These are not pajamas. They are Baggy Pants. (And that is my cat and my dog and my pudgy toes on our crappy floor and our disintegrating carpet. Who lives a lifestyle of the rich and famous?)
My friend Pamela Steel (who lives up the road from me and, as well as being my Euchre Nemesis, is the author of TWELVE books and I am not jealous ONE BIT) gave me these pants and told me I could wear them all the time except when I have a meeting at Head Office during which time I should probably wear pantyhose and sensible heels and not forget my deodorant. Other than that, Baggy Pants are what she says we should all wear, all the time.
See? I saw people wearing this stuff around and I just thought, pajamas! Pffft. I know from nothing, obviously. They are the new fashion craze and can be seen in all the fanciest places, except, apparently, Head Office. And maybe at Buckingham Palace, although there are rumours that Prince Harry likes to romp around his grandmother's apartment wearing the Disco Monkey with Plaid pattern.
So I shall wear them to work tomorrow, even though they are rather tight across my arse and this is the opposite of what Baggy Pants are supposed to be, which is baggy in the arse, not so tight that the seams are about ready to burst with flesh, but it's not the fault of Baggy Pants, it's the fault of my flabby fingers which keep stuffing food in my great big greedy gob.
I have to stop EATING. If dieting well is the result of a light switch in my head turned to the ON position then I have every reason to believe that the switch has been turned to OFF. You may think that turning the light switch back ON is an easy thing to do but this is not true in my case. I am, in fact, challenged when it comes to light switches. I have lived in this house for two and a half years and still go through a bloody big rigamarole every night trying to turn off the lights in our house. There are two switches in a row, you see. One turns the living room lights on and off. The other turns the back room on and off. I am forever turning on the living room when I want the back room and vicey versa.
"Having trouble?" Dave says, drolly, from the bedroom where he is reading a Louis L'Amour book on his Kindle while I flick the light switches on and off.
On. Off. On. On. Off. Off. ON. OFF. FECK.
You should see what I go through with the cruise control on the Jeep. One control arm that does five different things. I am about ready to divorce Dave or at least punch him straight in the nose if he makes one more crack about the cruise control. I will. If I can figure out how.
So I'm at home sick today. Blargh. I swear, I'm going in tomorrow if it kills me. God knows, I've been away so long they've probably given my job to someone else. To keep myself occupied I have made cookies. These are healthy cookies, from Weight Watchers. I made some the other day to give to Pamela and I don't think I gave her food poisoning so I made more today. I swear to God, when I made them before they were only one point per cookie. Today they are two points. Same cookie, twice the points. What gives, Jennifer Hudson? You're not making a believer outta me today!
Usually I don't make cookies when I'm dieting because, even though one cookie only has
For those who need to make these Health Nut cookies, which have no nuts, here's the recipe:
Health Nut Oatmeal Raisin Bites
1 1/2 cups uncooked rolled oats
3/4 cup whole grain wheat flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
2 tsp cinnamon
2 tbsp natural bran
2 tbsp wheat germ
1/2 cup margarine or butter (I use Becel because I am a Health Nut but Dave uses whatever is on sale)
1/4 cup sugar
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1 large egg
2 tsp vanilla
1 cup raisins, the good kind, not the kind with the crunchy bits
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
In a medium bowl combine oats, flour, baking powder, salt, cinnamon, bran and wheat germ; set aside. Cream margarine and both sugars until incorporated. Add egg and vanilla; mix thoroughly. Add oat mixture and mix until just combined; fold in raisins.
Drop rounded teaspoons of batter onto two ungreased cookie sheets lined with parchment paper, about one inch apart. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes for chewy cookies and up to 14 for crispy ones. Remove from oven and LET THEM COOL. Don't be an ass and burn your mouth on a raisin like I did, OK?
By the way, I had a really nice time at the wake for Mrs. Champion. Lovely is the only word I can use to describe it. That family is so incredibly nice that I just want to hug them all. Also it was nice seeing my old neighbours, including Leanne Baird, who used to fight with my little brother in the ditches and is now a talented artist, and her firecracker of a dad who is NINETY YEARS OLD and is still a card and cute as a bug. I see where Leanne gets her sense of humour. What a sweetie.
Mark Champion, you get your arse up here and spend some time with us, you hear? I miss you.