I woke to a tale of terrifying earthquakes - my beloved never dreams - but he'd been woken up in the night and thought there'd been some kind of geological shift or the lad up the road with the big wheeled truck had hit the house - finally. Radio 4 informed us that there had, indeed, been a quake at 1am in Lincolnshire and, lying beside me, my beloved felt it. Amazing, I never knew he was so sensitive. I am also a little concerned that I assumed he'd woken because I was snoring and, secondly I didn't hear/feel/sense a thing.
I apologies for my scary big knitting picture. I like it. It is now covered in pins, being art at college and representing how we try to protect ourselves but are continually attacked by consumerism and advertising. Deep, hey?
I was inducted yesterday, did I tell you? I joined the gym. I worked out that I only have to go twice a week to make a membership worthwhile. I'm going to go when S goes swimming on Mondays and then, at least once more, on Fridays while the girls are gymnasticating. I like the way the machines tell you that you've used up a mars bar and walked 1.24 kilometres. My usual schlep round the village is, I feel, unlikely to shift the pounds I need to. I'm going to have to surround myself with sweaty gym bunnies and feel the burn to get any results. I was given the middle-aged, unfit, start-off work out plan. I only have to use 4 weight machines and do 15 minutes on that eliptical thingy. Last time I went I was given 10 minutes on the rowing machine, 15 on the bike and 15 on the treadmill. I obviously look as if I need to start at the beginning.