Mar. 29th, 2009

blackberry444: (Default)
It's a lovely day today, but with a f-f-f-f-freezing wind.  Even the cats are staying indoors.

Morgan lost his collar a few weeks ago, when he got himself stuck in Martin's backyard and we hadn't bothered to replace it, but recently he's been making his way round from the back alley to the street and has been meeting us when we return in the car, loudly demanding to be let in the front door.  Once, before anybody else had been out, but after the cat-door was opened, John opened the front door to go out and collect his paper, only to find Morgan on the doorstep.  I've seen him recklessly crossing the road, too, and we get a lot of impatient traffic here, since every other man in this street is now a taxi-driver.  They all used to work in Indian restaurants, but they've decided that taxi work is better with less anti-social hours.  They're all getting a bit chubby, though!

We can't allow this to continue with no visible identification, so he's had to have a new collar.  I chose it very carefully, sapphire blue stretch fabric with gold buckle and a gold identification tag, and he looks very fetching in it, but he hates it and has spent half his time since it was put on him last night scratching to show us how uncomfortable and unfair it is.  He should be pleased that I took the bell off!  I've hardened my heart, because when we finally get round to replacing the back door and the cat-door, which I aim to do this summer, he won't be able to get in unless he has a magnet on his collar.  Even our sensible Phoebe who never strays beyond the yard has to wear a collar.

We are going to have to replace the yard door as well, because it's started falling to pieces.  Quite some time ago the top of the wall over the door fell off, and although I've reminded John many times, he hasn't done anything about it.  Now the damp has penetrated the door, which is an old fashioned heavy security door made with compressed wood dust, or crumbs, or whatever you call it, and it's swollen, making it difficult to bolt, and impossible to lock.

On Thursday we had our last writing class.  There were only five of us there, but we'd clubbed together to buy G a large book token, which she was very pleased with.  These last few classes with just the core of people who've known her for years have been lovely.  She has been very relaxed and happy and the classes have been great.  We've all of us, including G  got stuff from them that we will be able to use or refine.  In fact she wrote what sounded like a finished poem on Thursday.  She said she would fiddle with it a little more but agreed that it was practically finished.  I'm so glad the last class produced that for her.  It was quite sad, but I shan't lose contact with those of the group I care to keep up with, or with G herself, because I'm determined that she shan't lose touch with us.  As I said to Charles, it may be a corny old saying, but it's perfectly true that all good things come to an end.

One of the pluses of this is that I have a completely free diary for four weeks, followed by a couple of weeks with hospital appointments and a CT meeting and then another four weeks completely free.  Well, I say free, but there's a cardiac rehab class at the gym every Friday.  I haven't been for weeks, because something has always cropped up, but I'm determined to start going again.

In fact I'm going to overhaul my lifestyle.  My diabetes has been out of control for several months, and while the people at the diabetic clinic have said not to worry and to persevere with the Byetta while adding some Amaryl, my BG has still been far from ideal.  I value my toes and my eyes, so I'm going to make a big effort to eat more healthily, less carbohydrates and more protein-but-not-meat. And more salads;  I love salads, but the two men aren't very keen except for the occasional salad niçoise. Charles quite often does what he calls a salad, but as it's usually got fried bacon, chorizo and halloumi, or other stuff unsuitable to someone who's dieting, it's not a great help.  Mind you, the salad with chicken livers and nuts he did a couple of weeks ago was excellent!

As a final salute to comfort eating we're having a luxurious fish pie tonight, although not as luxurious as I had hoped because I couldn't get any monk-fish and they probably won't have any for another fortnight.  Apparently it's been bad weather for monkfish fishing.  Never mind, I shall savour every mouthful of the mashed potato, because it will be the last I shall have. 

It does seem unfair that even though I hardly ever eat pudding, or cake, or sweets, I still can't get my blood sugars to behave themselves.  I must get myself a jar of mixed nuts from Costco for "good" snacks!

I have already decided that I will relax my diet a little on Sundays and holidays.  I don't feel ready to say goodbye to roast potatoes, Yorkshire puddings or crumble just yet!

I don't really know what else I can cut out, except white rice.  That will prevent me eating a lot of the lovely Spanish dishes Charles has taught himself , or at least, only eating them occasionally.  He's going to be cross when I tell him.  On the other hand, there's nothing to prevent Charles and John having them and I could have a small spoonful with a piece of fish.  I never get to eat as much fish as I would like to because  neither of them is very keen on it.  And I shall have to give up eating Charles' wonderful chips!  It's a great shame that the fruit I love and eat lots of seems to affect my BGs worse than it does other diabetics.  I shall have to restrict myself to fruit with lots of fibre, and just have it as puddings.  I must stop having fruit juice, too.

I've also got very slack about meal-times and when I take my medication.  I've always hated early breakfast and I often don't eat it till the morning is far advanced, which means my medication is delayed because almost all of it, except the Byetta injection is meant to be taken after food.  I'm going to have to discipline myself to eating breakfast first thing, so as to take my medication at reasonable intervals. 

I haven't tried porridge again recently, but someone on theladiesloos has suggested putting half a handful, uncooked, into my breakfast yoghurt, so maybe that will help, since the latest research suggests that eating porridge helps keep blood glucose down and helps people lose weight!  Now that I've written that, I've decided that I must try different ways of making porridge till I find a way I like.  I've always loathed porridge since I was a girl when my Aunt used to make it for my cousins and me.  I could only ever be persuaded to eat by covering it with Far Too Much Golden Syrup, which is obviously not ideal for someone trying to keep down their blood sugar and their weight!  I'm going to start weighing myself every day again now that I've finally got round to replacing the batteries in my scales, because it's only too easy too slip into bad habits if I don't.

I've also resuscitated my old Excel spreadsheet, charting what I eat every day, when I take my meds, and my weight.  Maybe stopping doing that is what has led me into bad habits!  Or maybe it will help the diabetic team pinpoint what I'm doing wrong.

Ooooo!  I've just noticed that our new DECT phones have automatically updated the time!  How clever!  Apart from the boiler, my mobile phone and my watch, everything else electric or electronic seems able to adjust itself.  Not so long ago I had to adjust fourteen or fifteen different things every time the clocks changed.  Mind you, we no longer have the time set on the oven or the microwave, the TVs or any of the set-top boxes, because they're turned off at the wall when we've finished using them.   We never tape anything from the TV nowadays, for the simple reason that there's nothing we care enough about to bother with, so the VHSs aren't showing the correct time, and the DVD doesn't care.

Ooops!  It's time to go and cook dinner.  Where has the day gone?  Well, I didn't surface until it was time for The Archers, so obviously I'm not in synch with the new time, buggrit!


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