I hear a bird, Londonderry bird,
It well may be he's bringing me a cheering word.
I hear a breeze, a River Shanon breeze,
It well may be it's followed me across the seas.
Then tell me please

How are things in Glocca Morra?
Is that little brook still leaping there?
Does it still run down to Donny cove?
Through Killybegs, Kilkerry and Kildare?

How are things in Glocca Mora?
Is that willow tree still weeping there?
Does that lassie with the twinklin' eye
Come smilin' by and does she walk away,

Sad and dreamy there not to see me there?
So I ask each weepin' willow and each brook along the way,
And each lass that comes a-sighin' too ra lay
How are things in Glocca Morra this fine day?

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Staring at the scale tonight, I realized that it hadn’t budged in quite awhile as far as showing a loss of even a pound. In fact, I probably even gained a pound. So why am I okay with that? First of all, I am NOT okay with it. I have almost twenty five pounds to lose, so life is not wonderful in Glocca Morra. And it affects my sleep, my energy level and puts additional pressure on my overly delicate knee. And yet, things are looking up.

A few months ago, I was averaging less than one mile a day of walking. For the past two weeks, I’ve been averaging 2.5 miles per day. I get in two miles a day first thing in the morning, And aside from having to ice it afterwards, my knee is holding up fairly well.

Quantity of food for dinner is still excessive, but the quality of what’s been going into my body has increased significantly. Breakfast now has a couple slices of sprouted grain whole wheat bread instead of candy bar-esque granola bars. Blueberries are a go to snack. Evening dessert is a handful of blueberries crushed into a bowl of plain Greek yogurt. And dinners have more vegetables on the plate since I started cooking again.

I’m definitely not where I want to be from the looks of me, but I feel that I’m heading in the right direction.