New Year, New Age.

Yes, I am back from my Christmas retreat. It is amazing what a diet of freshly-pressed wheatgrass and spring water does for the inner man. I was lucky to have made friends with the Native American in the Teepee next to ours. He plaited me a smaller belt (made from discarded dream-catcher twine) to keep my now far-too-large trousers up.

The days since I last posted have been dedicated to nurturing the Inner Phantom. Three hours a day in the lotus position contemplating the eternal questions such as “Why is Christopher Biggins?” and “What sex are Turkeys?” has honed my spiritual acuity whilst still leaving me time to practice my yoga, especially the Cleaning Dog position. (The first few days are the worst, until the tendons loosen enough to get both legs behind your neck at the same time.)

Only time will tell whether I will be able to keep my New Year resolutions of blogging at least every other day and always telling the truth.

OM.

The Battle of The Bulge

Two glorious weeks of sitting by the sea or the pool with a cold drink in hand are taking their toll. My waistline has started to take full advantage of my "Comfort Fit" jeans.

Work is still exhausting, and we are chasing our tails doing umpteen things at the same time.

I know I should be getting more exercise, but at the moment the 45 minute walk to work is about my limit, and I'm not doing that every day either...

My Learned friend Welsh Dog has decided to start a new blog which may serve as a shining beacon of inspiration to us all. I suggest you point your browser over to Fat man On A Diet.

After a hard days work there is nothing better than relaxing and reading about someone else literally slogging away on a treadmill.

As Mark Twain said, "I love hard work... I could watch people do it all day long!"