Sunday Funday

I think I have now passed the point of what might be termed a "normal" relationship with food. I mean, I keep track of every little calorie I put in my mouth. I log and tally all through the day, which makes for a bit of an obsessive-compulsive thing on my part anyway. But last night I knew with all certainty that I'd gone over the edge.

I went to a hockey game. At one point in the game a penalty was called, which the referee signaled by lifting his bent arms to chest level and making a rolling motion. The woman next to me innocently asked what the signal meant, to which I replied: "roll it, pat it, mark it with a 'B' . . . . ah, yea. I'm pretty sure that no one else thought of the Baker's Man when that ref rolled his arms. Ya think?

The people around me were speechless for a moment, then laughed and corrected me. For the record, the signal is "charging," which means the the player took more than three steps before checking a player from the opposing team. It has absolutely nothing to do with baking me a cake as fast as you can! Ha!

In any event, although I had planned to go out to dinner with the team after the game, I opted for a meal with the coach, trainer and some other very important people. I splurged with two glasses of wine (8 oz of a Riesling is about 180 calories). I also had a fabulous chicken cranberry salad. The waitress was kind enough not to choke when I asked her to go back to the kitchen and get the nutritional information on the dressing. Even more so when I asked her to measure out exactly 2 tablespoons of it so I could keep track of what I was eating. But that's what I did. And that's what she did. And I'm glad.

So another good weekend. And tomorrow, it's back to the ice!!! I was finally able to put on regular shoes. Then I bought wrap and tape and band aids, so I'm ready to burn it up. You'll have to look up the numbers for burning calories ice-skating. They're so high its crazy!! Now tomorrow the schools are out for president's day. The rink will be more crowded so I am quite sure I will get a few chuckles from the younger, more graceful skaters. I don't care. I'm Dorothy Hamel, remember?

Okay, so I'm signing off here or I'll end up sleeping right through open skating time. Good night all. And God Bless.