Get the picture? by Sherry Hopkins
Rants include four-pound gain, price of gas and not my cats

This has been the weirdest week!

First I gained four pounds! Did you feel a slight tilt to the southeast? I don’t know how that happened.

Well maybe there could be a slight explanation for the gain. I’ve been reading a lot of women’s magazines lately. It seems as though everyone had the same full-page advertisement for white chocolate-covered Oreo cookies. I tried to look away, truly I did, but I just couldn’t. Besides I felt like it was my destiny to at least try them. You wanted to know how they tasted right? You were depending on me to tell you right?

Anyway, I bought a box. The calorie content is one cookie equals 100 calories. I can handle that. My morning and afternoon snacks are always around 100 calories so I will eat one cookie in the morning and one cookie in the afternoon. No problem.

Before bedtime the first day I had eaten the whole box. I don’t know how many calories that was and I don’t want to know. I justified this period of sheer gluttony by telling myself that at least now the box was empty. I wouldn’t have it on my mind 24 hours a day.

That in itself didn’t cause a four-pound gain, but the flood gates had been opened. I had had the sweet taste of nectar and it seemed I couldn’t turn back.

I told Dear Don (who by the way hasn’t gained a single pound) that I was going to get serious about dieting again on the 29th. I know that seems like an odd date to restart my program but if I try to start during a holiday then I will be destined to fail.

Besides I need time to wrap my mind around the whole thing. This time I will only go for a meager 14-pound loss. The four pounds I regained and the last ten I never lost originally. So please when you see me remind me that I look like I’ve gained weight…it will surely shame me into staying the course until I complete my goal.

I promised Dear Don that I would never get political here because boy, can I get political. But I must teeter on the edge of politics and say that I came close to calling the president yesterday. I’m fed up with price gouging for gasoline.

I’ve only called one time before, to the White House that is. That was because we owed more income tax than we had already paid for a year. I didn’t get any further than an operator who politely and sternly told me that she would relay my message to the Press Secretary. I’m sure that did a lot of good. Every year since then — and that’s been at least 20 years ago — we have paid extra income tax at the end of every year. So much for voicing your opinion.

But alas, I didn’t call George mostly because I knew I couldn’t actually talk to him and the operator probably has to pay out the Ying yang for her gas as well but nevertheless would not be particularly sympathetic. Also I didn’t want the Secret Service to show up at Plum Point and embarrass Dear Don. So it’s a moot point right?

The strangest thing has happened at Moseley Drive since we got Gabby cat. Prior to her arrival we couldn’t find a cat anywhere. Now, you wouldn’t believe how many cats are being supported by Dear Don’s income. They have come out of the proverbial woodwork.

At times we aren’t even sure which cat is ours and which is not. But you know what happens when they cross your border, you have to feed them and then they have little ones and you have to feed them and so on and so forth. All that could lead to another political rant but I won’t go there. You get the picture?

(Contact Sherry at sherryhopkins@bellsouth.net)