defragging the hard drive.


Using this as a total excuse, henceforth, instead of harshing my own mellow, I plan to be kind to myself and revel in my loveliness.

I’ll wait while you throw-up.


Anyway, as we all know, I’ve put on quite a good deal of weight over the past year.

I recently visited Serge for a follow-up after The Operation and did not receive the most positive of news (which we might go into later). Serge did confirm that the mirena (which has done many good things for my issues) has been known to cause weight gain. Great!

This, combined with my recent purchase of size 16 yoga pants(!), has made me decide to document my food consumption – just to be sure that it is not my piggishness that is contributing to my delightful curvaceousness (you see what I did there).

And so I began tweeting my eating (or “tweating” as the ever-excellent smallstakes termed it), but now I think I might save it for the blog (as is mucho easier to track).



Unkind people (ie. Don) suggested that rather than documenting food as explanation of my chubbosity, I might want to start documenting my alcohol consumption. Pish to that! Already already I’ve ignored muffins and handsful of chips in my quest for authenticity.


As part of the whole be lovely thing, on Friday I lashed out on some lovely items including a vanilla candle (long time readers will be aware of my adoration of vanilla).

Once lit, the candle was less of the vanilla orchid and more of the rainbow paddlepop, but as rainbow paddlepops are my second favourite scent, I could not complain and would totally smear over self – except for that burny wax thing.

Holy Goodness! Surely middle aged candle-buying is something that happens to other people.


And on middle-agedness, Don and I attended an open for inspection on Saturday afternoon in a suburb I’d not really considered. My primary criteria for a property is the ability to walk home without dying (or taking more than 1.5 hours) and to stroll out onto a nearby street at any time of day or night and hail a cab (I don’t know why, it just is) and this (just) fit that criteria

We walked in and the haus smelled of vanilla. From that point I was pretty much sold.

We’d not planned to even start looking in earnest until February, but Don will be placing a call our lovely (ex-SaltMinesLimted) mortgage broker tomorrow.

2 thoughts on “defragging the hard drive.

  1. Take it from a fellow Sagg, the right house will not turn up at the right time, it will not be what you expect and you will need to jump through some tiresome, metaphorical hoops to make it all happen. But, in your essential, saggishness, you’ll make it work. And feel awfully pleased with yourself afterwards.

  2. Fortunately were not too wedded to this place, but are seeing mortgage broker extraordinaire on Wednesday to explore pre-approval, so that when that mythical perfect haus eventually appears we should be good to go (except for the gazumping and inevitable problems the building reports uncover, but hopefully no crazed relatives)!

    I hope we’ll be as delighted as you are with the amazing cottage!

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