I have become so fat and lazy that we knew we had got to go swimming again tonight.

We haven’t been for ages, the last time was before Christmas, and I have taken on the appearance of an overturned pot of pinkish lard. This is because of such a lovely Christmas with home made apple chocolates and hotel chocolats and alcoholic mince pies and fat goose and roast potatoes and lots of things cooked in butter, all washed down with liberal quaffings of red wine.

During all of this time of joyous face-stuffing I have done nothing more taxing than ambling around the Library Gardens with the dogs and occasionally carrying the hoover up the stairs.

I have become portly.

Mark says that he has become portly as well, although he looks exactly the same as usual to me.

We originally thought that we would go swimming last night, but at the last minute virtuously pretended that we were duty-bound to spend the time at work trying to earn money, and instead sat in our taxis eating popping chocolate rescued from the Christmas tree and an absolutely gorgeous cheese bought on the Christmas markets called Sticky Toffee Wensleydale.

Tonight I almost did the same thing, because it worked so nicely yesterday, but I knew really that it was a very idle thing to do. Also Mark pointed out that since we pay for the membership we might as well use it and save the cost of having showers at home.

This was unarguable, and so tonight we packed up our swimming bags for the first time in ages and went off to the PamperMe Loveliness Holistic WellPerson Health Spa, where I puffed up and down the swimming pool imagining that I could really feel the lard melting away from my bottom.

When I got out of course it hadn’t, to my disappointment, so we will have to go again tomorrow. This is a nuisance, because it is a lot of hard work, it would be very nice to be able to be slim and healthy without having to eat boring things and get red-faced and out of breath.

After that we went to sit in the taxis, where we had lemon cream chicken with garlic potatoes for dinner, so it is a good job we have done so much exercise.

Mark has spent the day at the farm mending a gate. I boiled the sheets, because of the dogs, and then I sat in front of the computer composing my hopeful attempt at children’s literature.

I stayed there for a very great deal of the afternoon, occasionally getting up to refill the teapot, and thinking hard. I noticed after a while that whilst I am writing I am making the sort of face that I think my characters might be making, scowling if they are cross and smiling if they are happy, and so on. I was glad that nobody else was there, because it must look completely ridiculous, sitting all by myself in the office and grimacing and waggling my eyebrows about. I expect Tolkien did the same.

When Mark came home I realised that I had become so completely enthralled that I had forgotten to buy half of the things we needed for dinner, never mind cook them, and so we had a small emergency as we rushed around trying to fit in an entire day of unfinished jobs into the last ten minutes before we went swimming and to work.

Of course we didn’t manage it and I will have to put the sheets back in the bed when we get home tonight.

I wonder if Tolkien forgot all about the laundry as well.

 

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