This week I read up a little bit on smart tvs.  Not being even a little bit technical I might be one of the last people in the uk without the ability to record anything on tv, but switched off the idea entirely when (assuming I understood correctly), I read that smart tvs ‘listen’ to you.  (I admit, I did initially think ‘well they wouldn’t hear much hear, the vast majority of conversations in my lounge consist of me asking Norman what he’s done while I was at work, requesting that he removes himself and the dead mouse / bird / sausage from the house right now or pleading with the smoke alarm to stop going off just because I looked at the oven’. )  I think the TVs take note of what you watch, and as all the devices in your house use the same ip address they will target adverts at you based on your watching.  I know my ipad already does that, but the idea of devices talking about me behind my back made me feel a bit peculiar.

But I think they’ve already been doing it – just not very accurately.  I occasionally get spam that isn’t removed by our filters on my work email address and yesterday I got not one, but two on dealing with the menopause and one titled ‘over 50 and undervalued?’  I started to take offence as although I had my big birthday last month, it wasn’t that big birthday.  But then I got one about obesity and started wonder if these were right for me – just the me a few years down the line.  Because I have put on weight since giving up smoking (it has been 72 days, 17 hours and 29 minutes though – hooray me!) and maybe the future older, menopausal me would have just continued expanding too.  So it’s time to cut down on the biscuits.  I might be running, fitballing and yoga-ing, but not at the rate that I am devouring chocolate hobnobs.  I got to the stage of ‘able to get into my work trousers, but any rapid movements could prove disastrous’ a few weeks back.  Today I put on my skinny jeans and…well I kind of got stuck.  So I am hereby declaring that I plan on losing the weight I have acquired on the last two and a bit months as blog announcements usually helps me achieve my goals…the unfatness plan is back on with enthusiasm.  Well, maybe not enthusiasm.  More a desire not to get harpooned when mistaken for a whale on holiday :o)

And in other news, in the skinny jeans that miraculously didn’t split at the seams, I picked up Little Pea from nursery today and was met with a hug and an ‘Auntie Pog!’ which was absolutely the best thing to have happened this week.   Little Pea had been busy – he had made a crown, a lantern (we thought) and a jam tart.  He dropped the jam from the tart on the car park ground and I pretended I didn’t see him pick it up and eat it…  I am a bad Auntie Pog.  Maybe if I dropped more of my food on the ground I would be a slightly less round Auntie Pog though.  That could be worth a try… :0)