I only have myself to blame.

Being away from my usual home for a while probably makes me more appreciative of home. That's one of the advantages of getting away. The old saying goes, absence makes the heart grow fonder. Well, it may be doing that for me. I miss my two cats, for instance. Now it remains to be seen if they missed me. Probably not. But I won't let that hurt my ego. And it's gonna be interesting seeing deep snow again. Though I can't say I missed it. I've reached the stage at which I can live without snow. Without winter, in fact. Anyway, I'm more disciplined at home. In Minnesota. I keep a closer eye on my diet. And I exercise more. Aerobically. Got on the scale tonight, and discovered, to my chagrin, that I weigh 8 pounds more than when I arrived in Sardinia. That ain't good. The same thing happened to me when I was in Iceland this past summer. Put on weight. Came back weighing 176. So I trimmed down. To 168. That's what I weighed when I came to Sardinia. Now it's 176 again. I'd like to think the weight gain is between my ears. But it ain't. I'm no longer svelte. Good gawd. I'm eight pounds more than svelte. Italian food. Maybe I gotta learn to live without it. Or certainly less of it. But my true love suggests that it ain't the Italian food. It's other kinds of goodies. That aren't Italian. And that I only have myself to blame. --Jim Broede