Little House on the Potomac

Little House on the Potomac

Way west, out here on the edge of the prairie, this past year has felt like four. If only it was so. Still, we persist. Unlike at Mar-a-Lago, it is frigging cold here. 

Closer to home, we have returned to the Lou from Ann Arbor. Unfortunately, our lovely holiday visit was marred by the plague. Multiple family members succumbed to the flu and I think that they all had had their flu shots. The boys drove us home. Still, our Christmas was magical. Harry prepared scrumptious meals for both breakfast and dinner. The ceremonial opening of presents was also grand. But not too long after all that everything started to go downhill… 

It’s an ill wind that blows no good. I weighed myself and I have successfully lost all of my holidays weight gain plus more. It looks like I’ll be heading into the new years with a running start. I should market this dieting technique, maybe by writing a book about it. I could call it the Beverly Hills Influenza Diet, because all things Hollywood always sell. Instead though, I’d rather call it the Skid Row Hit Rock-bottom Diet, because that’s more how you feel with it. 

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