…since we have eaten anything we pleased while the whole house was torn up; we had yams with butter, pasta, pizza, Mexican, all-you-can-eat Chinese, we had desserts, cookies, candy, even the dreaded Swinging Door carrot cake [enough for an army] and you name it.

I feared I’d have gained at least 15, maybe 20 pounds. To my delight, in spite of epic reckless behavior, I have only gained 8 pounds. They’re where I don’t want them (waist)—but they’ll be easier to shed than some.

I think that’s a tribute to the sanity of the South Beach style diet we’ve been on: mostly stir-fries, a little noodles and rice with a huge amount of veggies, a moderate amount of bread and dairy, and a very little meat—mostly chicken.  When off it, the weight didn’t pile  back on.

So I went shopping today to fill the veggie larder. And then I realized it’s Valentine’s.

So I got Jane a card, remembered we’d sworn not to get more flowers that have to be planted, added the cost of most all cut flowers, and decided, y’know, there’s the bakery. Who should start a diet on a holiday? So I got a cream cheese filled cake and a card, and we’re having ham and baked yams tonight. Yay for us! We’ve earned it!