All Change

The boy and I fancied a change of scenery so we hotfooted it down to Bucks for a very long weekend. Suffolk was freezing when we left, and it was no better when we arrived, but we didn't spend much time outdoors. Our venue was a pristine house with a lot of light colours, and normally a black dog would not be welcome inside. Or any dog. But thankfully good old Hugo has already worked his magic, and we were in. For four days I didn't prepare a meal for him or myself, or even make a cup of tea. Food was produced with no effort from me, and wine flowed (I supplied most of that: I realise there's a quid pro quo element when it comes to hospitality). While we were there I sold my gold in a posh jeweller's shop, and received a large bundle of £50s for the old wedding rings. There was really no reason to hang on to them. We walked Hugo every day, but there was no possibility of talking a country ramble. The fields would have been too wet, and anyway it was too darned cold. It was a bit different from the last time we stayed, when October 31st was a scorcher.

Mostly Hugo behaved in an exemplary fashion. But the recycling on the kitchen counter proved to much for him to bear. First he stole the empty carton of Ben & Jerry's chocolate chip cookie ice cream, looking suitably and convincingly chastened when discovered. But not 5 minutes later he was back, this time for an empty tub of cream. He's a very bad dog.

We arrived back home again in time for the second half of the France v Scotland six nations match, and I was glad I'd left the heating on while I was away. Is there anything worse than trying to heat a frigid, neglected house in the middle of winter? I hadn't missed the other matches on Saturday either, Ireland finding their form just a little late but smashing Italy 63-10 with some fabulous play, and England just managing to hold Wales at bay. They may be the leaders at the moment, but there's a way to go yet. I may not be able to watch the very last match of the series, Ireland v England, but if the result is good I'll catch it later. Otherwise my language may be too foul and the neighbours might hear.

On the way home I stopped off to buy an M&S prawn risotto for my supper. So why then did I stick a potato into the oven for a couple of hours and tuck into that instead, lavishly slathered in butter and cheese, the skin crusty and crunchy? I finished my meal with two bananas baked with golden syrup and lemon juice, served with thick, creamy Greek yoghurt. Wine may have been involved too. Now that I'm trying out a box of red I don't feel that I have to drink a glass every night once the bottle is opened. The pressure is off. It doesn't mean I can't. I just don't have to. How's that for a bit of reasoning.