|Not a climbing frame in sight|
At the risk of sounding like one of those tedious alternative fad diet promoters, this weekend I've also tested the benefits of laughter, mattress wrestling, bathroom cleaning, rope climbing and intense artistic study of the athletic Principals of the Royal Ballet. Now they really did have figures to die for but they are professionals after all!
Which leads me on to a different type of figure. As my ever decreasing flatmate is very clever, she has been using a new system of code to write an excellent converter of weight. So she can now tell you who much you weigh using 38 different systems from kilos to baby elephants via conch shells and apple pips. It looks rather marvellous and there have been mentions of 'graphs'. I wonder if I can get her to calibrate, plot and triangulate the disappearance of that Pythagorean dirty cheese with how much time I'm in the flat on a weekend?
boing around whilst I failed utterly to climb anywhere. I suffer knee crumbling vertigo and my wobbly leaping off the apparatus left me with palm tingling rope burns.
On the bright side, laughter and (lack of) flexibility will continue to help us on our way to zipping up figure hugging frocks with ease.