T'was the month after Christmas....

[Morticia]

Twas the month after Christmas,
and all through the house,
Nothing would fit me,
not even a blouse.

The cookies I'd nibbled,
the chocolate I'd taste
At the holiday parties
had gone to my waist.

When I got on the scales
there arose such a number!
When I walked to the store
(less a walk than a lumber),

I'd remember the marvellous meals I'd prepared;
The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared,
The wine and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese
And the way I'd never said, "No thank you, please."

As I dressed myself in my husband's old shirt
And prepared once again to do battle with dirt...
I said to myself, as I only can,
"You can't spend a winter, disguised as a man!"

So, away with the last of the sour cream dip.
Get rid of the fruit cake, every cracker and chip.
Every last bit of food that I like must be banished
Till all the additional ounces have vanished.

I won't have a cookie, not even a lick.
I'll want only to chew on a long celery stick.
I won't have hot biscuits, or corn bread, or pie.
I'll munch on a carrot and quietly cry.

I'm hungry, I'm lonesome, and life is a bore...
But isn't that what January is for?
Unable to giggle, no longer a riot.
Happy New Year to all, and to all a good diet.

[Dave A]

One of my "resolutions" for this year - to try to move a bit of the waist back up to the shoulders. The downside of flying a desk nowadays - not enough mandatory exercise.

[daveob]

I know the feeling Dave.

The Crunch Punch was a Christmas time photo of myself sitting on the side of the pool - got a bit of a wake up call.

Looking forward to all the odd jobs that I need to do around the new house.

If you want to come help, I'll give you 30% off the cost you would have to pay at the gym.