Sheltering, Settling, and Salads

It’s not the “Covid 15” as I’ve heard the Sheltering weight gain referred to.  No, the number on the scales has stayed the same.  But not so the number on the tape measure.  Or so I assume.  I haven’t checked, but my blue jeans get harder and harder to button and so my suspicious are no doubt justified.

After a certain age, we’ve all experienced a thickening of the thorax.  That seems to come along between 40 and 60.  No matter how one tries, the sylph-like silhouette of one’s youth just expands into oblivion.  Then the vertical shrinking begins and the girthy middle regions become even harder to control.

At least that’s how I have it figured.  These recent months of Sheltering seem to have compounded the Settling Issue.  And don’t bother to mention exercise.  That has never been part of my agenda and, in fact, since Nyel has been wheelchair-bound and I’ve taken on some of his duties, my Exercise Program has increased by triple digits.

So, we are going into Emergency Mode around here.  That means that one meal a day will be a salad.  Period.  No accompanying buttery bread just out of the oven.  No side of crunchy crackers with a bit of cream cheese on board.  Nope.  Salad plain and simple.  Until further notice.  Which, of course, means when my waistline is back to “normal.”  (Well, normal for an octogenarian-and-a-half.)

Leave a Reply