Put your hands up all those who are glad that the eating and drinking binge time is almost over. I'm not quite the size of this cartoon lady alongside but - give me another week or so of chocolate and champagne consumption like it is going out of fashion - I soon will be. It doesn't take much to make me lose control; any old excuse for second helpings and my plate is the first to be outstretched.
The Christmas lunch went off okay, although my roasties weren't as perfect as usual (arrogant? moi?) - I think they were more suited to be plain boiled spuds, the sort used in salads and, unfortunately, the only ones I could find. There were masses and masses of roast veg - far too many for the three of us (is it just me who gets carried away with quantities at Christmas?) but I'll tell you what. All leftovers worked out really well as a Christmas shepherd's pie eaten on the 27th - with the turkey and stuffing as the base and the poorly roasted spuds and the rest of the roasted veg all blitzed together for the topping.
Presents were good - I won't list everything I received but the highlights were definitely an electric motor for my trike to enable me to whizz up the Breton hills without breathing my last shallow breath; runner-up best presents were a little disc-drive attachment for my notepad that I type all this drivel on and a big brown leather case in which to put all my OU books of the current course (beats my old carrier bag any day).
I've just done the Big Tidy Up - with a hangover too. Last night we went to some neighbours for Breton Coffee (this is their answer to my English AfternoonTea) and a lot of red wine and champagne was drunk. It was good we only had to stagger down two paths and a bit of street to get home. I'm very behind with all my favourite blogs and one other thing that is currently occupying me is that a big pile of books that I ordered last week from Amazon has now arrived and I'm busy working my way through them, beginning with Alan Bennet's Writing Home. I should really be getting on with an essay plan for William Wilberforce but - quite frankly - the old head is banging away a bit too much.
So, chocs and booze away, I'm off for a snooze.