The hubby has been on a calorie counting kick since before Thanksgiving. Yes you read that right before thanksgiving. Why am I blogging about this now. Well he was really good about not obsessing through the holidays. Now he’s started counting  mine in addition to his.

Doesn’t he know that I love, Love, Love a good caramel Latte. This coming from the girl who hated coffee a few years ago. I was at Panera the other day and without the whipped cream a caramel latte is 460 calories. See now he has me doing it. Shocking! I know.

Image: Michelle Meiklejohn /

Because, I’m the girl who never worried about what I put in my mouth. Of course it helps that I always ate small portions to begin with. Since I hit thirty, the metabolism decided it would rather walk than run. Which means it’s ambling along and dammit I want it to run like a bear’s after it. At least until I burn off the belly.

Whatever happens I will not give up my chocolate. Speaking of things I won’t give up, books. In any form, shape, or fashion.  Not that anyone is asking me to but Jeffe Kennedy was hanging out over at word-whores the other day talking about buying her first romance novel. And while I don’t remember the first one I read. I do remember the most shocking find in my mother’s stash. Jackie Collins

Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather when I read the first book. In the privacy of my closet, in the middle of the night. It was bawdy and eye opening to say the least and I enjoyed every bit of it. And I’m still shocked to have found it among the books my mother read. I might be wrong but I think I found it next to a biography of Ghandi.