28 is almost the same as 30

Barely a week goes by when I don't say to Husband, "Shall we get another dog?" and he says, "No."

Anyway, last night I was faced with the eternal question when wearing a dress and going out, "Will my knicker elastic hold?" There's always that lingering doubt, a result of my childhood upbringing most likely. That and, "Are you wearing clean knickers in case you're knocked down and have to go to hospital?" Because, of course, the worst thing about that happening would be the family shame at the nurses' disapproval of dirty underwear.

Twenty-eight days into my 30 Day Cut the Craving and I figure twenty-eight is almost the same as thirty so I can go to Slice and not refuse puddings. And was I glad I made that decision? Well, actually it was never really a decision but more of a foregone conclusion.

Has it worked? The next few weeks will tell. I haven't found it that hard to resist so maybe I will stop being a little piggy because I know I can. Incidentally I am not impressed with the magnesium tablets I'm taking. My night's sleep is still disturbed; it hasn't worked the miracle the advert promised. (Yes, I was a fool to believe it.)

So last night's meal. Yum yum. Perfect until a group of five quite posh loud people came in. I wouldn't have minded if I'd been able to hear what the woman was saying - the snippets of which were fascinating -but the men were also talking at the same time. Fortunately we were on our pudding by then.

Crab mousse inside the avocado