Excuse Me Linda….but….

I've always got alot to tell…. I usually forget most of it


I gave myself a credit on the Habit Hack challenge this week on the #12WBT program I’m on, because I hacked my habit the week I started 12WBT & it’s really worked, so I decided to share it with those who might be looking for a secret weapon to stop the “in front of the TV while relaxing” snacks.

These snacks were my downfall. It was the only time where I really didn’t exercise any self control. They could be healthy snacks, or not, it didn’t really matter, the problem was eating in front of the TV, every night. I had to rest my legs and my head after being at work all day, and I used to do that in front of the TV, but with one ritual came the other of mindless snacking. Pretty sure I could run up 1000 steps a night just going back and forth from the TV to the kitchen!

I kicked this habit by taking up knitting. Something I haven’t done in about 20 years. My theory is that you can’t knit and eat and you need both hands to knit. This really, really works for me!

I went out one lunch time with a friend from work, and we purchased the wool & the needles and that night I went home and cast on 102 stitches on one of those long cable needles and I started knitting.  No pattern…. my eating was mindless and without thought, so my knitting should also be mindless and without thought… If I had to think too hard about it, then I probably wouldn’t do it…..If I find myself really obsessing about food (which I hardly ever do now because I’ve hacked the habit), then the rules are that I have to finish the row first and I can’t put my knitting down half way through a row… 102 stitches takes long enough to knit that by the time I’ve finished the row the craving has usually passed

I started knitting a huge throw rug in some warm winter colours at the start of my 12WBT, and I’ve named it my Rescue Rug, because I think it’s rescued me from eating myself into an early grave! #12WBTHabitHackthe-rescue-rug-in-progress


Daily Prompt: Tree

via Daily Prompt: Tree


I can’t imagine my life without an important tree in it, or a time when a tree didn’t feel like the most comforting thing, or the best thing, or the thing that I truly loved being near or in or a part of.  At every stage of my life, there has been a tree, with a story.

One of my earliest happy memories was of the giddy euphoria I felt when my squeals of delightful terror, pleading “Higher! Higher! Push me higher” were answered with a firm adult hand pressed into my tiny four year old back, as I flew through the air on a rope & plank swing that hung from the giant bough of the ancient plum tree in our back yard in Merrylands, in suburban Sydney.

It could have been anyone of the four giant adults in my life pushing me, one of my beautiful Italian Grandparents, who loved me more than life itself.  I knew that love.  I was always certain of it.  Secure in the knowledge that I was the centre of their universe.

Or it could have been either of my amazing young parents, thrown together in their teens, challenged by a young family, while they themselves were still so young.  I never knew until I was much older that my parents were young and inexperienced and learning on the job, with me providing so many of their “first” lessons.  To me they were simply beautiful people who loved me.  They would look at me with such tenderness and what I now think, may also have been a measure of trepidation.  I never felt any of that insecurity they must have felt, I just felt the love.

I hardly ever closed my eyes when I was in that swing.  I used to hold on for dear life, and lean back as far as I could, just a little bit beyond safe, just until it felt a little dangerous, and catch glimpses of the sky through the tree’s purple leaves.

I could survey my whole world from that swing in my purple tree.  I could see the vegetable patch with my Grandfather toiling there daily, producing food for our family.  I could see the outside wash house, with my Mother or my Grandmother standing at the old (though new then) electric washing machine, with a mean mangle that I got my long hair caught in once, terrified that I would lose my locks forever, shifting the clothes by hand from the machine through the mangle to drain them  and then into the sink or basket while the water was drained from the machine, before filling it again to rinse the clothes.  My Grandmother was so thankful and proud of her magic, timesaving electric washing machine, the envy of all the other Nonnas.

I could see the backyard Dunny…. down the concrete path, halfway between the house and the back fence, just before the vegie patch…. that was like walking a 100 miles to pee when it was dark or cold or raining, but we never thought twice about it.

I could see anyone approaching from the back door to spoil my fun, I could see the neighbours backyards on both sides of our house and if I stood up on my swing, I could usually see over the fence and spy on what they were up to.  I could pretty much survey my whole world from that tree swing.

As I got older and braver, I would climb it to pick it’s sweet, juicy black plums.  Eating dozens of them a day.  Their juice used to run down my arms, down my chin & typically would also ruin my clothes.  But despite the vast quantities of fruit I ate, my appetite for dinner was never ruined.  Fast forward 50 years and I still eat too much fruit and never ruin my appetite for dinner – that may explain my ample frame 🙂

That tree was bulldozed when I was 12 and my family sold that beautiful old house to developers who put up a huge shopping centre where our  proud old Federation style home had once stood.  Never mind.  Nothing has ever taken away the very real sensations that I can still feel, if I just lean back a little & close my eyes and bid the gown ups of my past to once again, push me higher!

<a href=””>Tree</a&gt;


When you bite off a bit more than you can chew

I think that’s what I’ve done.  Good ole Mrs Everything to Everyone who can get Everything done in no time at all, strikes again.

We fly away for a 10 day holiday on this coming Sunday afternoon.  I take Thursday & Friday off work and book tradesmen in to strip, sand back and re-polish two floors in my house, the living room and dining room. But the rooms have to be emptied don’t they, so move back to Tuesday & Wednesday night, and we can get that done right?

Except Tuesday night I worked back until 7pm, got home at 7.30pm, cooked dinner, ate (exhausted), said goodnight to Hubbit who goes to bed at 8.30pm and found myself the lone packer and carrier of boxes of shite I had only unpacked two months earlier after moving into our new home 4 months before that.  Collapsed exhausted at 11pm on Tuesday knowing that all the big furniture items as well as the remaining packed boxes needed to be moved on Wednesday and secretly hoping that maybe my son J may be around after work to help with the heavy stuff.  Alas, as fate and excellent misfortune would have it, there was no J, he was working on Wednesday night so it looks like it’s just Hubbit and me for part II of the pack up from hell.

I travelled home from work Wednesday night, but had to pick up some groceries, so another night of arriving home at 7.30pm, but no dinner this time, because not a single extra box has been moved from the previous night (I thought perhaps something may have been done in the two hours between Hubbit’s arrival and mine…but not), and Hubbit needs to get to bed.  He’s in his PJ’s and in the worst “Fuck Off” mood, and can barely manage a grunt at me.  God only knows what I’ve done wrong this time I think to myself (nothing apparently), but I’m walking on eggshells while carrying boxes to other rooms.

Next up is 10 dining chairs – while carrying these and jamming my fingers between chairs and door frames, I’m thinking to myself, do we really need such a big dining suite?  Can’t we just start dining middle eastern style, sitting on pilliows on the floor?  The lounge has been moved out onto our balcony on the weekend while I was away, so I’m grateful for small mercies, because that monster weighs a tonne!  But there’s still two armchairs, with matching footstools, a couple of side tables, a coffee table, a TV & cable set up and my exercise equipment that I promised myself would not sit in the lounge room when not in use…ooops!  Most of this ends up on the balcony, and while 1/2 the balcony is undercover, I’m praying for no rain for the next few days, just in case it blows in and wets the furniture.  What didn’t fit on the balcony was moved out to the carport and the place looks like a right, proper shit fight!

But 9.00 pm rolls around, I’ve kept Mr Happy up for an extra half hour.  He’s kissed (chastely of course) and wished a goodnight and I can finally eat, because right now, at this point in time, I’m so hungry I could chew the leg off a chair.  Dinner of no more than 442 calories (steamed fish with vegies and a pretty mean salsa verde that I whipped up) and a bit of a stint on Trip Advisor and Google looking for accommodation and things to do on our trip and what do you know….but it’s midnight already and the Tradies are arriving at 6.45am…. seriously, I’m exhausted and I know it’s only going to get worse.

It’s getting worse because, She Who Can Juggle 1000 Balls, has organised to go to beautiful Daughter A’s house (drive for 30 min) so we can do our fitness test for our Week 4 Check-in for the Michelle Bridges 12 Week Body Transformation Weight-loss Challenge that we’re both on.  Bring it on ….. uggggh!  So fitness test about to start (midday), followed by cuddles of most adorable, joy of my life, Grandson F, and then it’s 30 min drive back to be at the dentist by 5pm, and then home to do more research on trip because we can’t do anything else while all our furniture is on the balcony!  It’s also beyond me to just let a trip happen, and wing it.  I’m such a control freak, I have to have most of a trip mapped out before we leave.  Heaven forbid that anything should be left to chance!

Tomorrow, the tradies will be back to finish the floor, I still need to mow the lawn, tend to the plants before we leave, visit my parents, attend a doctors appointment at 3pm and do the laundry so we have clothes to take with us, and I need to fit in a workout so I don’t finish my life as a morbidly obese freak.

Saturday is more garden work, tidy the house, finish the laundry, get the travel docs in order and then a presentation dinner on the other side of town on Saturday night.

Sunday morning is packing day and double checking day, clean out the fridge, make sure everyone, including the dog, are settled and know what needs to happen while we’re away, and then it’s off to the airport, which needs a 90 minute drive.  I think I’m going to need to sleep for the first two days of this holiday, I’m going to be so tired from trying to fit a week into 3 days.  Why on earth do I do it?


Pretend the Perfect Parent Exists

via Daily Prompt: Pretend

Pretend if you will, for just a moment, that all parents involved in kids sport are perfect examples to their children of how they should behave when they grow up, or when they play sport.

Pretend that they teach their children to lose gracefully and win graciously and to treat their opposition and match officials with respect.

Pretend that they put good sportsmanship and healthy attitudes before winning.

Pretend they say things like “thank you” or “can I help you” to the volunteers who run their clubs and activities instead of bullying them or complaining when thinks aren’t perfect.

Pretend that they don’t always think that their child is better than, more important than, faster than or more skillful than the other kid.

Now pretend that I am a fairy Princess and I can grant wishes.

Each are as likely as the other 🙂

I will qualify this by saying that SOMETIMES I am a Fairy Princess, and therefore, SOMETIMES parents are all that they should be.

<a href=””>Pretend</a&gt;

Panic Renamed

via Daily Prompt: Panic

I’ve never written a response to a blog prompt, hell, I’ve only written a handful of entries, and when I saw this topic, I felt a little disappointed, because I thought, “you don’t panic, so what could you write about?”.  Then the pesky little voice said “LC, you’re such a big, fat liar.  You panic all the time, you’re just one of the best in your circle at hiding it”.

So in my very first responsive blog entry, I’ll expose the panic that I hide dozens of times a week, usually while I’m giving someone else a pep talk on why they shouldn’t panic, comforting them, encouraging them to be brave and have faith in themselves.  For what is panic, but a lack of faith in one’s own ability to succeed, control, conquer, achieve, survive or be respected, loved or accepted, and don’t we each battle that at some point and on some level almost every day?

Those of us who don’t think we panic, have just learnt the art of harnessing the fear and the adrenaline it pumps through us and we tell ourselves we’re excited at a challenge.  Most of us just rename fear, or panic or apprehension and we give it another name, so it doesn’t cripple us and in doing so, we make ourselves a hostile, infertile host to full blown panic.

So, don’t panic.  Just rename that sucker, embrace the terror that contracts your sphincter, shoulders back, head up, deep breath and…….go!  Smack that panic right in the face and rule your world for another moment.

<a href=””>Panic</a&gt;

Some days it just pays to be me.

Feel like I’ve accomplished so much this week, and feeling really good about myself.  Better health, better energy levels, better fitness (non existent compared to really fit people!) and  better mental clarity, except for that one day after only getting 3.75 hours sleep….I was pretty fucked up that day!

Really not sure why I’m even writing this blog, other than this is a blog where I get to write whatever I like, so there you go, I’ve just answered my own question!

Hubby & I, after my exercise session this morning, took ourselves off to the other side of Sydney to visit DB, my Monster-in-Law (that’s just my pet name for her, she really is quite sweet(ish).  After leaving DB, we headed into town to shop up a bit of a storm.

After doing it pretty hard in our early days, I’m enjoying the financial freedom that this time of our lives is delivering.  Pretty sure we won’t always be this flush, and I know that a sensible choice is save like a demon so we don’t go without later, but there’s also that other option of, enjoy what you have while you have it because you might be dead next week, which also has its own merits…anyhow, the hubbit needed a new computer, because Apple officially called his old one “Vintage”, and after listening to him lament his situation for so long, I decided that it was time to treat the old boy to a new toy.

Of course, while there, I best buy myself a few little bits for my belated birthday, so Apple Watch, new bluetooth speaker & Apple TV box so I can hook up our devices to the Smart TV (listen to me getting all TechSavy on you!) and we were all set!

While in the Apple Store, we saw a friend of J’s (our son) who works in the store… that sweet, sweet girl without any request from us, gave us her staff discount!  She saved us $260 in discounts…what a beautiful soul….bunch of thank you blooms will need to be sent!

So I’ve had retail therapy…. I’ve lost 3.5kg. in 2.5 weeks of my diet, and feeling really positive about losing more soon and I’m no longer “hungry” all the time, so I really feel like I’m kicking goals there too, and to top it all off, I’ve had a killer few days at work too, getting heaps done, which I’m putting down to my clarity and better energy levels, so go me I say.

Clocking off now to cook up a storm… lovin life…just thought I’d share some of the positivity with you



Fitness Queen For The Day

Just a little bit chuffed with myself, so I’m going to do a little bit of showing off.

Up this morning, let myself have a sleep in because it’s my day off, and after rising, had that little niggle of “ah my knees hurt, what’s the road of least resistance so I don’t have to do too much work?”

Then I remembered the  12WBT quote of “JFDI”, which is supposed to mean “Just Friggin’ Do It”, but who says Friggin???? so “Just Fuckin’ Do It Lard Arse”, the theory behind it being (which is a great excuse buster by the way) just start it and stop when you can’t go on, if you’re really sick or injured or tired, you can stop, but just give it a go to start with.  Just fuckin’ do it!

So I did.  Mrs Wobblybits herself put on her active wear costume, had a heartstarter coffee (with one sugar instead of 2 1/2), cleared the lounge room floor, put on Budda Radio and set the iPad up on the stand in front of me so I could follow the workout.  Start workout, and trip on the rug!  Haha…..just laugh, fix the rug and move on.  Remember to pull up through your Core….. I still don’t really have a core, but found a bit that might eventually be a core, so pulled up through it.

I totally owned that work out, smashed it and couldn’t believe it, by the time I’d finished, I wasn’t dead, was smiling like the Village Idiot and decided that I still had energy to burn so I’d go for a walk.  But not my customary 1.5 km walk, because I’d be too tired for that, so I’d scale it down to just a quick 1 km walk.  Guess what?  Mrs Wobblybits in her active wear complete with wrist bands and cooling towel and trusty dog in tow cracked the 2km mark!

Now the thoughts that go through my head while I’m walking are scary, there’s about 4 versions of myself, all battling for centre stage, and that one little part of me that no one sees, the quite, contemplative one, just sitting back quietly in my head saying “wow, I’m so blessed” and feeling really thankful for all the amazingness in my life and just appreciating the beautiful views I have while I walk.  I thought, right here, right now, I am so content, thank you Universe…… and then one of the four other biatches in my head completely intruded, and brought to my attention that I was walking with a very uncomfortable one sided wedgie…. there goes another pair of undies I need to throw out, never mind, they were going to be too big for me soon anyway…lol.

Ok… so I know it was just walking and not jogging, but my poor old arthritic knees aren’t ready for running yet.  But, I am soooooo proud of myself.  I know it’s nothing in the scheme of things, but for me, who a month ago was starting to picture myself as that morbidly obese woman who can’t get out of her bed, has to be sponged bathed by community nurses and whose only form of income is posing for fat calendars, this is like climbing Mt Everest for me…. so let me glory just for a while 🙂

I’m going to have a meal, and then tackle the gardens.  I’ve included a photo of some of the view I get to look at on my walk.

Adios amigo

Diet Hell…Where all the big girls go at the end of Winter

It’s spring here in Australia.  I think there’s some sort of uncontrollable rebirthing mechanism within most of us that just automatically goes off somewhere in the last month of blessed winter (my favourite time of the year), and without really meaning to, I find myself wanting to shed half my body weight.  That’s no joke. I really do need to lose about 1/2 my body weight, but right now I’m feeling exceptionally motivated to lose just some of it.

Having agonized for so long about what my options are, and not liking most of them, I set myself a goal to lose 25 kg by 01Sep17 or go under the knife to have some fairly radical gastric bypass surgery.  While such surgery, I believe, will save my life, I’ve really no joy to derive from spending the rest of my life with a stomach that won’t even hold 1/2 a cream bun!

So once again, I’m embarking upon the weight loss journey!  I expect that I’ll have lots to tell you over the coming 12 weeks about this journey, but it’s not the reason for or the focus of my blog, so here we go again.  Enjoy riding with me 🙂

No “real” photo with this post

Gaaaaaaaaahhhhh! That’s my retching, vomit sound.  Just took my photo front on & side on in a full length mirror for my “Before & After” photo expose`.  Have been firmly reminded why people shaped like me should never take selfies in active wear.  You’re just going to have to rely on my written updates on how good I’m looking as I morph from Hippo to Meerkat (What? Meerkats are sexy!).  Trust me baby, you’re gonna want me if we just use my words 🙂

In fact, I’m thinking of forming a vigilante movement to take out anyone who wears active wear in public.  It’s horrible.  You either look so amazingly good, young, fit & healthy in it that it makes me what to trip you over for making me hate how I look, or you look like I look in it, in which case, what the fuck were you thinking leaving the house looking like that?  Really, girl look at yourself.  No one needs to see your saggy bits!  God invented flowing fabrics for a reason.  So you and I can wear them and feel lovely and pretty and swan about like Her Royal Highness Princess Prettypants.  So, turn around, go home, get out of that active wear that shows off your back tits as well as your front tits and put your MooMoo on.  We won’t even talk about Camel Toes and active wear.  That’s a whole other chapter on it’s own.

Big Grandma day coming up today – off to see my boy Flynn.  He’s such a joy to my heart.  I’m not such a joy to his heart yet, his Mum & Dad are the only ones who take that honour at the moment, but the smiles are getting bigger and more plentiful, and I’d like to think (and don’t you dare tell me otherwise!) that the smiles of recognition are also happening with more certainty.

Day off from work today too, so I’m pretty pleased about that.  Held the last of our “Finals” last night and I’ve got to say, I’ve had so much of the “nice” knocked out of me this season by some of the sweet community athletes that, quite frankly, I couldn’t have given a shit who won or who lost last night.  I would have been just as happy for the prima donnas to chase the ball right of the edge of a cliff.  OMG…you can always tell when I need a rest.

So, it’s off to KMart before visiting my girl.  Will probably spend the equivalent of my Smith’s Chips and CC’s budget, which is no longer available to me in that format, on home workout equipment that will also double as attractive occasional tables.  Bring on the getfit/weightloss era x 4 reps!

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