I think I have just about accepted that I’m never going to be a size 10 again.  As the end of January approaches, my dieting stint has resulted in the paltry weight loss of just three pounds.  This is not enough to have the button easily meeting on any of the jeans that have been languishing on the wardrobe rail.  Hitting the mid-fifties has seen a total re-arrangement of lumps and bumps, with everything relocating to the waistline.  How do celebrities like Michelle Pfeiffer and Jane Fonda manage to keep such youthful figures?  Do they simply never eat?  Or do they work out every hour of every day?  Or perhaps they just visit some Hollywood liposuction surgeon, nod at his fat-sucking machine and say, ‘Fill it up, dah-ling’.’ Regrettably I don’t have a celebrity-sized bank balance, but at least I can afford to buy myself a new pair of (bigger) jeans.  Which was what I did yesterday.  I must admit, it was wonderful to do up the button without feeling I was being sawn in half.
          Meanwhile, the wardrobe has been gone through with a fine toothcomb.  It’s been a heart-breaking, but cleansing, exercise.  Every garment was tried on again, and then a large black sack was filled to take to the charity shop.  I was in my stride by this point, which immediately had the attention turning to shoes. An avid collector of heels, I knew there was all manner of strappy stuff that had not been worn for years. Shoes were the next to go. I’m now down to about six garments and a pair of muddy wellies.  From the sublime to the ridiculous.  But as I seem to spend most of my days wearing joggers and t-shirts covered in dog and cat hair, it doesn’t matter. Spring is just around the corner, along with a new ensemble!  Which reminds me (rude joke alert, stop reading now if easily offended).
          A very voluptuous lady was trying to board a bus, but her skirt was too tight for her to make the step up.  She reached behind her and discreetly lowered her zip before trying again. Unfortunately the skirt was still too tight.  So she gave it another go, lowering the zip a little further.  But still the skirt was too tight.  Determined to catch this bus, she once more reached behind her and lowered the zip all the way down.  Suddenly she felt two hands on her backside propelling her into the bus.  Angry, she turned around to the man behind her and said, ‘Sir, I don’t know you well enough for you to behave in such a manner,’ to which he replied, ‘Lady, I don’t know you well enough for you to unzip my fly three times either…’