The Iron Lady

First off, my thanks to Lesley of Caxton, Sue of Indigo Dream and Julia of Even Balance for their support and best wishes in relation to the Diet of the Century. It’s funny, this boating/online community thing, because although I have had the pleasure of meeting Lesley, feel as though I know Sue through our blog exchanges and shared love of greyhounds, I wouldn’t know Julia if she passed me in the street. She’s a perfect stranger in that respect. And yet she is paradoxically a friend because she, like me, is a ‘Friend of Snecklifter’ and if you are a FoS, you are a friend of mine. Through the Holloways weblog, I know about Jess the dog, for example, in much the same way Julia knows about my wild bunch. And these ‘virtual’ acquaintances are none the poorer for being virtual (for the moment at least), as can be seen by Julia’s very kind gesture of donating a fee for a professional survey to the Retired Greyhound Trust – a great fillip for me on Sunday night just as I was getting really, really hungry. The fridge door was banged shut immediately. I do very much hope that one day I’ll get to say thanks in person, albeit as a greatly reduced person.

Now to the weekend just gone. Flippin’ ‘eck, that was the severest test of my self-control that I’ve had in a long time. The motorhoming newbies duly arrived on Saturday and before they’d even plugged in the power they were whipping the cork out of a bottle of red. Within the hour they had some sausages on the go and it sort of went on from there, a continuous stream of food and drink until they left on Sunday afternoon. Amidst all this temptation, I took a little of what I fancied and stopped there, while others who shall remain nameless got on the Eats bus and went to Chocolate Roll Square via Mince Pie Avenue, with a small diversion up Old Speckled Hen Lane. I sucked on a satsuma.

In retrospect, my iron will did not impinge on the weekend in terms of how much I enjoyed it, which is a good thing. I don’t think it would have been any better for eating three rashers of bacon rather than the one modest one I did have, as it was the company that mattered. But I’d be lying if I said it was easy…I don’t think I’ve ever coveted a banger quite so much as I did on Sunday morning and the grilled tomato substitute just didn’t cut it somehow. However, if it takes me closer to my target and earns some dosh for the greyhounds, it will be worth it.

We’ll be here in the forest until tomorrow afternoon as we have an invite to a pub quiz down the road in Nantwich tomorrow evening – more public eats, so another test of will. If sticky toffee pudding’s on offer, I might be a goner. A girl can only resist so much…I don't even want to think about the four lunches in eight days that I've got coming up. Maybe I could smuggle Ranger in under the table? I can see it now - "Yes, he's an assistance dog. He's assisting me with my diet". I don't think anyone could quibble with that..