Really, at the moment, I am so full of melancholy that this blog ought to be retitled lacrimae rerum. Things disappear from one's life all the time - important things, but sometimes it is the small things that really upset one. About 11 years ago I bought some striped trousers from a catalogue - I wasn't sure about them, but I felt they made a good change from the black and stone coloured ones I usually wore in the summer. They were very comfortable - and have accommodated various changes of size since then, and they had pockets. When I first put them on I had a brief happy feeling because I was reminded of the striped dungarees I used to wear when I was about 4 - I called them "kangaroos" and used to jump about when I wore them... being 4 must have been such bliss - jumping! if only...
When I got the trousers out this summer was delighted that they still fitted - and have been wearing them - weather permitting - for the last few weeks. Yesterday, sitting on a bench in the "zoo" I leaned down to pick something off the ground and felt a tear. When I got home - a few further tears later - I took them off and had a look. The seat had worn thin - the tear was inevitable, the fabric was beyond repair. They must go into the clothes recycling bag. I am very sad about it, they seemed to be a tenuous link with my happy childhood self...alas!
Tomorrow I am going to join Weight Watchers - otherwise, by the end of the month I will have achieved nothing...and I will have to investigate surgical alternatives. The only way this will work is if I am incredibly disciplined and stick it out to the end. In some ways it should be easier - no hormonal jolts etc. No weird water retention. Maybe by the end of the summer I can drag some new old clothes out from under the bed.
When I got the trousers out this summer was delighted that they still fitted - and have been wearing them - weather permitting - for the last few weeks. Yesterday, sitting on a bench in the "zoo" I leaned down to pick something off the ground and felt a tear. When I got home - a few further tears later - I took them off and had a look. The seat had worn thin - the tear was inevitable, the fabric was beyond repair. They must go into the clothes recycling bag. I am very sad about it, they seemed to be a tenuous link with my happy childhood self...alas!
Tomorrow I am going to join Weight Watchers - otherwise, by the end of the month I will have achieved nothing...and I will have to investigate surgical alternatives. The only way this will work is if I am incredibly disciplined and stick it out to the end. In some ways it should be easier - no hormonal jolts etc. No weird water retention. Maybe by the end of the summer I can drag some new old clothes out from under the bed.
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