Post-Yule fallout

Boxing day. A day when the fridge is full of leftovers and the house is full of wrapping paper. Today is going to be pretty much an all-day snack and I know it.

Thanks to Pizza on Christmas Eve, and the feast yesterday, I'm back up over my 95-Kilo celebration border. So I will be attempting [underline attempting] to keep my sweet tooth in check.

It's not going well. Today's breakfast includes four jelly lollies and a snowball [that's a chocolate-covered marshmallow treat] as well as some Creaming Soda.

The first casualties of random snacking have doubtless been the prawns. When I left them, there were about for or five attempting to hide in a small bowl in the fridge. I suspect that, should I peek, there will be just the empty bowl and a faint echo of prawn smell.

The next big casualty will probably be the turkey. But not the stuffing. I have oodles of that stuff. So much so that I made a sort of meatloaf out of it. But I only had cake pans, so it's a very round loaf.

I'm still walking around two blocks. It's about the spoons I have left to deal with the rest of the day.

Later today, when the sun is higher in the sky, I shall do something about the drifts of cloth items in the laundry room. At least one full washing line.

A minimum of a basket a day until it goes away.

And in case you don't realise what I mean by 'all'... I have mountains of problems in the laundry. Some sorting, a lot of washing. All left behind by people who hate to do the laundry. Including me.

I will whittle it down, or perish in the attempt.

But you don't care about that. You want the stories again. Okay. I'll do that and then bitch to myself about the mountains I have to conquer.