The festive season

Okay, okay, the hissy fit's well and truly over and I'm back in the land of the living (and blogging). Further to last week's gain of 3lb, I weighed myself the day after and was 4.75lb lighter so it was obviously just the rich food and alcohol in my system causing things to be a little skew whiff. And since then, I've lost a further 3lb so am a happy little munchkin as far as my weight goes. Whether that will continue into the Christmas season is another thing entirely as I'm already craving seasonal goodies with a week still to go until the big day.

I've just walked round Waitrose sulking at not being allowed to have any naughty food and kept picking up boxes of mince pies, mini Christmas puddings, duck spring rolls, brie and cranberry parcels and the like, holding them lovingly to my chest then putting them down with a sob. Although I wouldn't say no to a mince pie or three (or a piece of Christmas pudding) doused in brandy butter, it's the party food that really gets me. Little morsels of pure badness that you can eat in the twinkling of an eye. I did actually buy three packs - an oriental selection, the aforementioned duck spring rolls and some cheese bites - for New Year's Eve, which we're spending in Cardiff with our beloved friend Gwilym. And that won't be nearly enough, so I'm planning on buying some more next week, particularly the tempura king prawns and breaded stuffed jalapeno peppers in Sainsbury's. At about 50 calories a piece, I'm going to blow my calorie allowance sky high but one day won't kill me. Okay, two days - if you count all I'll be troughing on Christmas Day too. Maybe three days, with Boxing Day!!

I ought to be resigned about putting on weight over the holidays but, for some silly reason, I still have it in my head that I can maintain my weight, if not actually lose a pound. Which is just daft. We're off to Jim's sister in Swindon on Wednesday to exchange presents as she's working over Christmas and we'll be having quiche and chips for lunch, which isn't exactly low-cal. The Jim and I are off to the Kensington Arms for our "works do" on Friday lunchtime so I'll be having something delicious, washed down with a half or two of their amazing hot spiced cider. Then we go to Abergavenny on Saturday for Christmas itself - five days of not being in control of the food will be difficult in itself but Sebs (Jim's sister - and it's short for Sarah, not Sebastiana as I first thought!) is a great cook and is planning lunches like baked camembert with crusty bread. And that's before I even think of the roast goose and all the trimmings.

And the booze. I can lay off alcohol when I'm at home but as soon as I'm in company a switch is flicked inside my head which makes me drink like the proverbial poisson. There'll be lots of wine (possibly mulled) and gin and champagne and port and, best of all, my home-made damson gin. We sampled it last night (only a teaspoon, to check the sweetness) and, boy oh boy, was it yummy!! I could polish off the whole bottle in one go. Well, I could if it was in a bottle. At the moment, it's in a kilner jar with the damsons still swimming around so I need to go and buy a bottle and a funnel to decant it before the weekend. The perfect drink to warm you up after a winter walk. At least we should be able to go for a walk most days along the canal to burn off some of the festive fare. We've been asked to bring some port so that must mean that there will be cheese. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.

But it's only once a year and I'm 7lb ahead of my scheduled loss of 2lb a week so I have a little bit of give. But it would be nice if the damage isn't excessive. And, actually, will I be able to walk much at all because of my bad back? I fell on our very wet and slippy path about 10 days ago and my back is a bad way as I landed on it quite heftily (and I'm a big girl, don't forget!). Despite the Nurofen Plus, Ibuleve and sticky heat patches, it has stubbornly refused to get better and, as Dietgirl would say, I've had a dirty cow of a week. I was supposed to go and stay with my bestest friend Sarah near Winchester at the weekend but my back took against the idea and landed me back in my sick bed. There was no way I could drive 100 miles with it crippling me, let alone enjoy the delights of Winchester Christmas market, which would have been ace. I love a good Christmas market. The one in Manchester provided hours of delight last year, apart from when it was absolutely rammed which, to be truthful, was most of the time.

But it did supply me with gluhwein and hot pork sandwiches, for which I am eternally grateful, though my figure is not. And it really got me into the festive spirit which is slightly lacking this year, mainly due to me not having a job yet. But we have a lovely 8ft tree surrounded by presents and a cat who likes to swipe the baubles, so that perks me up a bit. And it is only a week to go until Father Christmas comes. I'd say Merry Christmas but I think I'll make up for my absence by posting a few more times this week. Ho, ho, ho...