bellybegone’s blog

Still not weighing in but I tried a pair of pre preggers, still-rocking-it-around-marylebone-and-spashing-wads-on-decent-wine-and-interesting- tapas trousers on last night- and they are roomy. Wasn't skinny in them days, but wasn't overweight either. In your face Weightwatchers!! I can eat my rick stein fish cooked in beef dripping and get away with it!

In other food related news, my freezer was left open for a few hours yesterday afternoon (little boys hunting for lollies) and as a result now resembles an iglu. It needs defrosting, so I need to construct some filling and nutritious meals involving the following ingredients;

chicken thighs 

lamb mince

mushy peas

real peas

babycorn

carrots

chips

2x unidentifiable containers containing something which might be chicken stock, and another which might be gravy but the date and description has rubbed off so I am sceptical.

 In my fridge there is:

butter

milk

lettuce

peppers

celery

3 mushrooms

half a chorizo

3 rashers of smoked bacon 

and in the veg rack there's plenty of

onions 

garlic

courgette 

a mountain of carrots

a cabbage.  

Please bare in mind, I have a reasonably well stocked pantry of herbs, spices, dried stock, lentils, pasta and rice, sauces and oils but I have run out of eggs.         

Help please 

First off: if you are ever pottering around St. Ives, and its a sunny and warm evening, go here and eat the specials. Or, just eat anything.

because its reasonably priced

because its relaxed and welcoming

because the view over the little bay is utterly breathtaking

because paddling in a turquoise sea and walking on a white beach after a good feed makes you feel happy to be alive.

And then we arrived home and all hell broke loose once more. Not least the fact that we are utterly broke.

Thinking back to my student days, I now have a homemade tomato sauce, in a glass jar in my fridge 

I'd forgotten how versitile it can be. Its all about the onions and garlic. Sloooooooooooooooow cooked. It tastes bloody good (I always add a bit of chilli, for kick not heat.) It gets better with age. So far the kids, him and I have had it twice each, and there's still masses left. We've eaten it with fresh herbs and pasta, used it as a sauce for chicken, added parmesan and spinach. I've even bunged it into tonights paella. How did I ever live without a weekly jar of home made sauce? How long will it be before we are sick of the bloody sight of it?      

Eating the leftover food, we had bacon, mushrooms and eggs for breakfast.Oh, yeah.

I'm making a picnic for lunch tomorrow, given that we could be stranded in traffic for hours, with two little people (the horror) or days if we run out of petrol (we will eat the smallest one first. He's got more meat on him).

I've shunned the usual granary baguette, international cured meats, funny smelling cheese, olives, pickles, and fruit I normally pack (and only I enjoy), and instead I'm going for the masses. I'm going old school.

Potted beef sandwiches, cheese spread sandwiches, white bread, real butter. Cherry tomatoes, big chunks of cheese, fruit, crisps, juice and chocolate biscuits. Flask of tea. Don't look at me like that. You know you're jealous.  

I intend to eat my way around Cornwall, as I would normally. I will have a fish from Rick Steins, cockles and mussels, oysters, scones and clotted cream, cornish pasties. With ale. This year it will be without guilt or regret.

In a wierd twist, I have also packed my running shoes. I wasn't even aware I was doing it- I just visualised myself running around the forest in which we are staying, before dragging the kids out for a swim, and I thought it a reasonable thing to do.

Ah, but will I actually run? Who knows, these days,anything could happen.     

My sis and I were going through some old (and previously unseen) pics of the family over the years. One set of photos was of a holiday to majorca when I was 14 and she was 12. One photo shows me in a bikini playfighting with my cousins.

sis "Ooh my god! Look how great you look. You can see your ribs!"

me "Wow!"

Two things struck me. Firstly, when those photos were taken my consultant gastroenterologist was concerned because I was underweight, and felt I needed treatment for stomach ulcers. Secondly, I was fourteen and very obviously just post puberty. I looked like a girl. How broken does that make our perception of health and attractiveness? 

As we flicked through others I realised some other less serious things;

No matter how slim and young, I always have a double chin when I laugh.

I had bad forehead spots when I though I was at my most fabulous.

My sister has worn a fringe for 90% of her life.

I have worn shorter skirts whilst blubbier than I am now.

My hair has been shocking.

My dental braces really were the best thing I have ever done and the pain was worth it.

Signing off, I am still only eating when I am hungry (mostly) and stopping before being full. I've had two experiences recently where I have overeaten and felt dreadful. Most importantly, I don't give a crapola about how much I weigh. And I am a size 12.                      

Last night, I won two toyota cars, and my sister and my husband snogged in the garden (I was more annoyed about the lack of childcare options now they'd betrayed me, than the actual snogging) and my mum was chatting away, making sausage sandwiches, and the coffee perc was perc-ing.  

I woke up with a need.

I leapt out of bed, into the shower then pulled on some still damp jeans over still damp legs, threw the boys and john in the car, dropped them where they needed to be dropped, whisked Seth to mini movers where we liberated a massive spider. All the while drooling, fantasising.

I whisked into the garage for petrol, ran through the supermarket picking up bread, milk, eggs, with Seth trailing behind eating free sample cheese and onion pasties.

We liberated Ez from nursery, I whipped up some lunch for the boys and then set to work.

Porkinsons, Tiger bread, grilled tomatoes, rocket.

Mustard, ketchup and mayo on the side.

Fresh coffee.

Bliss.

What are you wishing for?    

I am planning on a return to the gym tomorrow, if only because people have sponsored me to run and therefore, I should at least make the effort.

Aint nothing like Paul mck, bad teeth, abstinence (from booze) and worry to shape things up.

I was here in january

I am now:

36

30

38

22

trap nerve in back

develop painful absess tooth

find a suitable loved one who will experience serious and profound life altering illness on your behalf (this might prove difficult at first, but perhaps you could bargain and offer to do the same for them once recovered)  

visit hospital regularly

feed family, including dad who has lost the will to nourish himself

avoid gym for 6 weeks

result: lose a stone.

Signs up to run 5k

Breaks back

The end

I absolutely refuse to weigh myself ever again.

Like the watched kettle that never boils, since the gym scales broke and were removed leaving naught but a lone cement slab in its wake, I have noticed;

My arms seem less fluttery in the wind

My trousers are literally falling off

The chicken skin under my chin is less, chickeny

I occasionally catch my reflection in the mirror/window and think, "hmmm, not quite so chubster any more"

So, I don't want to know the truth.

Truth begone.