No, this is not about a "dog weight meme." It starts with the sad/happy news that Bissell has a forever home. This one was difficult for me. He was the first puppy that I've been "that" close to suggesting we adopt, which is surprising even to me, since I didn't particularly like him when I first brought him home. He was "ok," but he was replacing Chunk, whom I loved so much (but would never have thought of adopting). But Bissell really grew on me and the longer he was here, the more I started to wonder if we could, possibly adopt him.
But I knew that if we were to adopt him, (a) we could no longer foster puppies, and (b) I'd eventually regret it.
Ashley said she had two really good applications for him and had to choose from between them. The family who adopted him lives in the Sacramento area and they have a 7 year old Whippet. I've often wondered if Bissell had some Whippet in him. He was getting so tall and lanky and he had that built-for-speed body shape of a Whippet. Watching him "whip" around here chasing Lizzie did nothing to change that opinion.
I didn't get to meet the family, because Walt had the car and I asked Ashley to come and pick him up, rather than bring him to Petco myself. She offered to take me with her, but I decided to say my goodbye to Bissell here at home. There was a tear or two, but I know there will be new puppies. In fact, Ashley offered me a puppy that needs a home, but since my friend Mary will be here for a visit next week and then Walt and I are going to Santa Barbara again, I told her I'd prefer to wait until after we return from the next (last) baby shower.
My little puppy is now settling in to a new home. I missed him when I went to sleep last night--no puppy on my feet or climbing up onto my shoulder to pat my face before going to sleep, but I'm very happy that he has a new home.
The second subject of this entry is a book meme which I may actually have done before, but I read it again in Alan's book blog and I thought it would be an interesting way to give you a taste for James Lipton's book, "Inside Inside." The instructions are simple: Take a book, go to page 123, look for the 5th sentence and copy the next three sentences. So here is an excerpt from Lipton's book:
Of all the classical arts, dance is the most frankly erotic--when it chooses to be, and sometimes when it doesn't. I tried to describe the dance's sensual roots in my novel 'Mirrors,' asking, what is a classical pas de deux, in Swan Lake or The Sleeping Beauty or Giselle or Jerome Robbins' Afternoon of a Faun, but 'he basic configuration of dance and life: one male, one female, squared off face to face, one on one.
And here I was at the barre, in tights, constrained only by a dance belt, executing a grand plie in second position behind an exquisite eighteen year old danseuse in an identical inviting position.
Dancing is only one of Lipton's talents, which include acting, directing, producing, TV hosting, song writing, being a pilot, and, for a brief time, a pimp in Paris, among many other things. He's also married to Miss Scarlet...the real Miss Scarlet, the picture on the card in the game Clue.
Reading in the Observation Car on the train
And finally, here she goes again, folks. I think this is the third or fourth time that I've decided to deal seriously with weight in this journal. Stick around long enough and you discover how I live my life in circles. If I had known how this journal was going to be around, would have named it something like "YoYo Living."
So here's the deal. First of all my family, for some reason, wants to make sure I'm around for a long time and, having been reading all of my complaints about being dragged to the gym occasionally, they have decided to buy me a treadmill for my birthday. At first I protested that it was too much for all of them who are struggling financially, but Ned is adamant and I'm starting to get excited about it, for all sorts of reasons. Mostly that I won't have to actually dress for the gym; I won't feel self-conscious standing next to a jogging 80 year old when I'm plodding along at my own pace; I won't worry about accidentally bumping into Dr. G and not living up to his critique; but most of all, with a treadmill here in house, I will use it every day. It will become a constructive reason to procrastinate doing anything else in the house.
The need to get more exercise has become more important now that I've decided to go with the women's group to France and Italy next year. It will give me a year and a half to get to the point where I can walk down the driveway to pick up the newspaper without getting winded. I'm really excited about the trip, especially now that Jeri has decided she wants to come too. She's figuring out if she can do it, but I'm very hopeful. Charlotte's 3 daughters are coming, all of whom are good friends of Jeri's. The trip is already turning into something exciting.
Here's the rough itinerary:
day 1 - leave from US
day 2, 3 and 4 in Paris
day 5 in Provence
day 6, 7 and 8 in Nice
day 9 zip to Italy (doesn't specify method) and drive to Cinque Terre
day 10 in Santa Margherita Ligure (Cinque Terre)
day 11, 12 and 13 in Florence and nearby areas.
day 14 fly home
At the same time that I'm wanting to get in shape for the trip, Peach is talking about going back on Weight Watchers, not going to meetings, but using the materials she (and I) already have and forming our own support group. We'll check in with each other each Friday and compare notes and weights.
AND also at the same time, Ned's sister-in-law has started "The Biggest Loser" group, a bunch of people who have each put in $20 and at the end of six months, the one who loses the most gets all the money. I've joined that group too. Maybe I can earn money to help with expenses on the trip.
So it appears that all the stars are in alignment and that once again, this is the time to see if I can do it again, like I did for the Australia trip.
And yes, I realize this is like deja vu for those of you who have been reading this journal for years, but...hey!...my readership always goes up when I start writing about weight, so it seems inevitable that I'll do it again.
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