It would seem I’ve lost my taste for booze. A strange thing indeed.
Perhaps I’m COVID positive and I’ve lost my sense of taste in a very specific way!
I tried a sip of gin and tonic and it tasted like poison. Red wine tasted sour and white wine, while slightly tolerable, wasn’t very enjoyable.
It’s a bit surprising as I’ve always enjoyed a drink but there’s really no point if I don’t like it and so for now, I’m accidentally teetotal!
It’s been a cold week with high temperatures of minus two and lows much lower than that.
Snow fell for two days but couldn’t be bothered to stick. It was very small snow not like the lovely big flakes we had last time. Mean snow. Then ice. And a cold wind which felt like minus seven. Brrr!
Two pairs of everything and I was very glad to have my sheepskin gloves as nothing seemed warm enough. Hat, scarves, puffer coats, boots, jumpers, layers and layers.
We celebrated the birth of Big T quietly, stayed in and turned up the heating and shivered through the week.
It was a challenging week as summer in France felt like a distant memory and an unachievable dream for the future.
We went to Trafalgar Square where the fountains had frozen.
By Sunday it warmed up to a balmy two degrees and we walked to Hyde Park (again) taking our hats off to enjoy some fresh air to the hair, returned home for lunch and later the rain started falling signalling the welcome end of the Big Freeze.
February 3rd and not a drop of alcohol has passed our lips since midnight on December 31st. It’s taken a while to look better but there’s certainly been some weight loss, a definite improvement in sleep, toxicity and overall coping mechanisms so it seems gin may not be not the answer to everything!
After a month, I think I’m looking better but more important is that my mood and stress level is much better and work has been going well with a sense of humour intact.
I would like the willpower to keep going and after this weekend’s celebration of Big T’s birthday, I’m keen to resume the drought. Not sure whether I’ll continue on alone, but we’ll see…
After a fairly insane week where we had a carpenter in to build a wardrobe, slept in the spare room in a tiny bed, had late night zooms going on for work and had mad barking dogs and foxes at 4am, it stayed light until almost 5pm!
It’s always good when it starts getting lighter as spring is certainly on her way and with spring comes hope.
The trees are in bud waiting patiently for their moment and the first daffodil popped up bravely in the garden. A bold move as more snow is forecast but an encouraging sight nonetheless.
With the lightening sky comes a lighter mood and whilst we’re not exactly skipping in today’s heavy rain, perhaps we feel a little more optimistic.
One day at a time!
It’s a depressing milestone this week as the UK passed 100,000 deaths from COVID.
It’s hard to know what to say. Are people in the UK fatter, unhealthier, more susceptible? Is the super mutant strain responsible? Is our government completely shit? I suspect most of the answers are yes but it’s still an enormous number and warrants a moment of thought.
How is this tiny island fifth in the world and first in Europe for deaths and worst in the world for population death ratio? It’s not something to be proud of as we struggle to contain this beast almost a year on.
Will the vaccines be the magical answer or will we be too busy fighting over who gets them?
All I know is that my initial thought that this would last two weeks was way off!
After weeks of anticipation, it finally started snowing and suddenly the world felt a little bit more magical!
While we were all excited, one of us was ecstatic…
Yesterday Agnes and I went to the vet. The excitement of leaving the house and going in a taxi (with face mask of course) was quite heady and finally seeing an osteo vet was worth the wait indeed.
Upon examination, the vet couldn’t find anything wrong with Agnes’ little tiny kneecap and suggested that she might have a torn cruciate ligament but wasn’t sure without sedation and x-ray. Hurrah, no surgery for us (yet!).
As we’ve been making progress with rest combined with glucosamine, MSM and chondroitin (which she thinks is a treat because it’s meat flavoured) we’re continuing with observation rather than sedation for the next couple of weeks. I’m going to add fish oil into the mix as Agnes is very keen on fish although it’s not so good for the breath.
Agnes seems to be much better in general and her mood has improved as she’s back to her normal happy self. In the spirit of solidarity, I am also taking multivitamins, D and bone health supplements so we’re feeling quite mighty this week.
Hopping along!
This weekend’s excursions consisted of a trip to the butcher where Big T bought a retro Chicken Kiev.
This week the ‘70s continued with the delivery of a lovely pair of sheepskin gloves, perfect for the wintery weather.
I’m gradually building up my collection of sheepskin as I’ve had a lambikin jacket for years which is still going strong, an old pair of Ugg’s, sheepskin slippers and now gloves. While not exactly kind to sheep, the warmth is lovely and the garments last for years.
I’m not quite sure why we’ve gone retro, life just seems quite simple and the 1970s, the years of our childhood, seemed like happy simple days.
Maybe a hat next?!
I have entered the smug phase of Dry January where, after two weeks without alcohol, I realise what I should really look like.
My eyes are brighter, my skin is smoother, healthier-looking, a better colour and less angry or maybe I’m less angry! I’m sleeping brilliantly and am needing less sleep to feel more energised. Hurrah!
Oh the joy of not drinking, not feeling toxic, not feeling tired or hungover. While I enjoy a drink or two at the weekend as we try not to drink during the week anyway, I prefer the alcohol-free version of me. Smug, smug, smuggity smug!
Of course, I say this every time. I decide I’m never drinking again until Big T’s birthday shows up in February and then it’s all over for another year (or until Oct-Sober comes around). Why am I such a lemming?
Maybe this year will be different…
We seem to have regressed to life in the 1970s.
I’m baking and cooking a lot and strangely all recipes seem to require a lot of butter. At the weekend I made a meat pie for the first time and it felt very retro (my version of the classic Fray Bentos). Before Christmas I made a Black Forest Trifle which seemed to combine everything from the seventies. Will the next step be fish fingers followed by Angel Delight?
The working day continues to consist of hours of zoom calls interspersed with doing loads of washing, vacuuming a lot of dust, waiting for bread to rise and doing a daily yoga class of breathing.
I’m not sure Covid has done much for the emancipation of women as I feel I’m doing a lot of cleaning and cooking these days but we are eating well, staying reasonably clean and keeping warm!
