Bloated. Fat. Muffin top. All these words relate to me today after a three-course meal on Saturday night followed by scrumptious Sunday lunch yesterday and then a spicy supper.
I blame Mrs Bancroft. She's the one who has always taught me never to turn down an invitation.
I am doubled up with wind, the belt on my jeans is digging in to my stomach and making an interesting imprint. I will need a crane to lift me out of this chair. Beware anyone who comes too close behind me when I walk the dogs later on.
I feel like the woman on the Nimble bread advert but for all the wrong reasons. She flew like a bird in the sky, light as anything, floating in her hot air balloon. I, too, will be shooting across the field. But in the way a balloon filled with helium does when it is let down.
With my iPod on, I will be oblivious as the whole village crumbles in my wake.
That's about all I can manage
Love Maddie x
As I write, it’s a mad scramble to get things done before heading off on the annual weekend trip to North Devon. In years gone by, there w...
It's ten thirty in the morning and a bus pulls up outside our front door. All aboard for the Sidmouth Special. For just £9 a head,...
I'm up here in shorts, a floral top and Birkenstocks. New shorts and bright pink Birkenstocks, it's true, but I'm feeling rather...
There's been rain for the first time in weeks in this long, hot summer. This morning, it belted down on the conservatory roof, fil...
A smell of garlic began to make my nostrils twitch. I was inside the house, the shutters were closed to keep out the sun and mosquitoes and ...