I tried to take a photo of the luscious blackberry cobbler I made night before last, but it didn't look very luscious at all. Take my word for it – and take my husband's word for it, too – it was quite yummy.
He ate all the crust from the top. I used a recipe from a Southern Living cookbook, which called for a biscuit topper but it was a little different from regular biscuit dough. It was very puffy and light.
We heated the remaining filling and ate it on waffles last night.
I'm totally carbed up now. Heh.
So, I walked 30 miles last week – five miles every day except Monday. It takes about 90 minutes (it's a very hilly route) and I haven't tried to talk myself out of it – or into it – at all.
My attitude has been that taking that walk is like applying antiperspirant, or brushing my teeth. I wouldn't not do it on a daily basis. So it hasn't mattered how hot it has been, or how busy I've been, or how fill-in-the-blank (tired? cranky? sore?) – I've just resolutely set off every day for a five-mile walk.
The point, of course, is eventually to lose some weight, but I haven't weighed myself. One week of walking will hardly make a difference on the scale. (Those of you who have "known" me for a long time – back to the Shrinking Knitter days – know how difficult it has been for me to go down a size or two.) But if I keep it up, eventually I should see some results.
At least that's the theory. In the meantime, I'm trying to enjoy the walk for the walk's sake, not for any future benefits which might result.