Boxing Day

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Boxing Day brings it's own problems, and I don't mean transporting the kids to aunts and grannies to collect more gifts. I mean standing on the weighing machine and wondering why the spring flew out, I mean looking at the collection of dishes filling the sink and wondering why there were so many as, in my case I ate only once and alone! How come that tin of 'Quality Street' looks half empty when it was full to the top last night?  How can I feel that tired when I finished off the apple tart this afternoon, was there too much left over custard on it perhaps? I suppose this is a result of eating in a considerate manner all year and foolishly letting myself  eat slightly more than normal over two days. It is not often I sit wondering why the TV is so poor at nights but find it difficult to get up and switch it off (oh where is that remote?). I did manage to wander across to the church opposite this morning, that's almost 150 yards you know, and then slither my way back home again. Walking on hardened ice is quite tiring and I suspect that walk is why I am tired, not the nan bread and chocs I ate for breakfast.  Ah well, back to the routine tomorrow, after I finish of that tin of chocolates as no-one else has come to eat them......

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