My weight finally fell below the old,(as in really, really old) fibbed weight on my driver's license, and I was feeling smug.

In case you were wondering, Wally's back home, and his family is much relieved. His "mom" had cried so long and hard that she had broken blood vessels in her eyes, He - lucky for him-  lived in a close knit neighborhood, and one of his neighbors spotted his picture on the flyers my daughter had posted and called his owners. His name was Tobey (not as good as Wally, in my opinion) and he had zipped out of a hastily closed gate that didn't latch. He took with him, on his return, two luxurious dog beds, one he had occupied while visiting, and one for his "sister," a couple of chicken toys and a bag of tennis balls.

 He had charm to spare and was hard to part with, but it was the right thing to take him home, especially to an obviously loving family. If his home had not been kind, I think Wally would have mysteriously disappeared. I am definitely not above that.

It was an odd weekend, food wise.  Saturday started off unusually early, and I was starving when we stopped for breakfast at a biscuit joint favored by my family. Somewhere between the banjo band and the picnic table in the gravel parking lot, I ate a heavenly, freshly made, buttermilk biscuit topped by an egg, further topped by runny, gooey cheese.  I didn't order the cheese, but hey, that's how it came and that's how I ate it. Sunday night brought my husband's grilled burgers and baked beans, and just let me say that he is the best burger maker in the Western hemisphere, at least the Southern part of the Northern part of that hemisphere.

I was feeling rather smug, because for the first time in my memory, my weight on the bathroom scale matched the weight on my driver's license. And that was a pretty old  license, since they let you endlessly renew, using the same data.

Of course they tell you to update your info, but who does that? I haven't had to show my driver's license in twenty years, except when I bought beer at the ball park, and really, who takes that seriously? So, my weight dipped below that number, probably a little white lie originally, but only for a precious moment, because this morning it was a pound above. So I hoofed it through my neighborhood with renewed vigor, and I intend to have the pound erased by my Wednesday weigh-in day. 

Unfortunately, tomorrow night is dinner with an out of town (do Hong Kong and London qualify as out-of-town in the true sense?) colleague of my husband's. As are many in his TV related business, she is preternaturally thin and blond and we are going to a semi-chic spot frequented by other thin blondes, male and female.  The good part! The menu includes "small plates," which I thought meant tapas, where you order several small plates of food that add up to a dinner, but I think in this case, they may just have really small china, aimed at a trendy, thin clientele who want to stay that way and aren't in to leftovers.

I'll let you know, if you're interested, or even if you aren't.