Collective weight loss, recorded at our Weight Watchers meeting today: 15.8 lbs. That’s 8.6 for my beer swilling, pork guzzling husband and 7.2 for me.
But despite my bitterness, I’m proud of Fred. Although Weight Watchers tries, a little, to be male-friendly, it’s not easy for the hapless man who stumbles into this largely female realm. Today, for instance, Fred was handed a slip of paper to read out loud at the meeting, with the following tip for feeling good about himself during the weight loss process: “A fresh haircut, a manicure, or some new makeup can go a long way toward boosting your spirits while you’re trying to slim down.” Perhaps I’ll pick up a new tube of mascara for him. It would bring out his eyes.
The most stunning revelation, though, has been that our weight watching is turning us into responsible locavores. We’re relying on fresh, local produce because we’re being forced to eat far more vegetables than meat, and they now need to taste good. This also means that we’re looking for seasonal produce that’s flavorful because it’s not been grown in a hothouse or shipped from too far away. We’re getting most of this from the Farmers Market in Raleigh and our CSA (Community Sponsored Agriculture) deliveries once a week, and if we can drag ourselves out of the house before noon on Saturday we might even try Durham’s own Farmers Market.
But we WON’T be wearing sensible shoes or peasant skirts, no matter how much they might help lift Fred’s spirits while he’s slimming down.