I Am Eloise.


This was an Eloise sort of day. Played with a little smush-faced dog (or three). Ate a raisin or two. Stood on my toes. Got dizzy and fell down. Made a terrible face. And here’s the thing of it most of the time I’m on the telephone. Or so Eloise would say.

If you don’t know Eloise, she is a six-year girl who lives at the Plaza Hotel. Or did. The 1955 book by Kay Thompson, with perfect illustrations by Hilary Knight, is said to have been suggested by the childhood of Liza Minelli, who was the god-daughter of the author.  These are just details though. Eloise is really a rawther busy little girl whose days fill up with tiny adventures accompanied by Weenie (her pug) and Skipperdee (her turtle.) And when Eloise does not want to do something, Eloise cannot be budged in her opinion. I seem to remember that Nanny had an awful time getting Eloise in the bawth.

I did not feel like going for a walk. I did feel like going to play in the pedal boats at Winton Woods, but no one would go with me, citing bad weather or some such thing, so I just sighed and returned to my desk. Later I spent  much of the evening stretched out across the sofa watching television, a marathon of “America’s Top Model”, which I don’t even like. Someone suggested that I might want to go walk on the treadmill, but I just glared at him.  I am not mad. Or sad. I just couldn’t be bawthered. Some days are like that.

Some days it would be nice to just stay six forever.

. . .

Today’s target number 64. (It’s just fluid, I tell you.) Walked 717 steps. Breakfast was a piece of toast, a banana and two hardboiled eggs. Lunch was tuna salad (5 oz solid albacore, 1 tbsp mayo, 2 tbsp fresh squeezed lime juice, 1/2 tsp. sriracha) sliced tomato. Afternoon snack 4 oz trail mix (spiced pecans, cranberries and chocolate) dinner 4 oz NY strip, 2 tbsp green beans, half a small ear of corn, quarter cup lemon sorbet.


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