"It's 2.30am on a Saturday morning, and I must lick your face!"

You know, by cleverly judging the time between heavy rain showers, Jack (my Jack Russell terrier) was taken for a one hour walk last night. There's no way he should have been awake enough to demand to go outside to post an urgent wee-mail at 2.30am this morning.

But he did.

Dammit.

Welcome to summer. No wonder it's raining.

(I cheated and peeked at the scales a day early; if I walk heaps today I can be under the magic 90 kg again tomorrow. Whew! I thought I'd been really tough on myself this week, but there hasn't been a lot of change at all. Last week, i knew there'd been a sudden two kilogram drop. i could just tell that i felt lighter, and skinnier. There are mornings when I get dressed and feel amazed at all the extra room in the waistband of my pants, and how they'd fall down without a belt holding them up. There are other morning when i catch myself side on in the mirror and am horrified that the tummy ain't never gonna look better without some exercise beyond walking. (My thighs always look muscular, but that's because a life time of walking builds 'em up. Such is the life of a pedestrian.)