Too Much

After three successive weekends of rich food and good wine (my 50th, my mum's 80th and a gate crashed wedding) I thought it would be a good idea to get back to some simpler and healthier food and a bit more exercise.

As I sit here with my stomach full of a cassoulet type supper, I am feeling as if I have a lead weight in my stomach and realise that it's all gone a bit wrong. It just seemed the natural thing to do with the left over chicken and the jar of haricots blancs but now I just want to lie down.

To add to my misery I have a chronic toothache and a self-inflicted burn across the palm of my right hand. The burn is all my own stupid fault - completely forgetting what I was doing by picking up the pan of cassoulet that had been in the oven for the last 45 minutes. Idiot. The toothache is an ongoing problem that was half solved when I was last in the UK and needs further attention when I next get back - in the meantime effervescent codeine/paracetemol big tablets are my best friend.

I have at least booked my next visit to the UK and got an absolute bargain price for the flights. It doesn't happen very often but when the prices and the dates come together it's an absolute joy - so €23 to get to London including a bag in the hold and £13 to get back again - those are the cheapest set of return flights I have ever booked and what makes them even better is that they get Debrah and me together again. Joy indeed.

After the wedding on Saturday, Debrah flew back to London and I returned to Carcassonne to cook dinner for my poor neglected guests. It was all a bit of rush but dinner courtesy of the Chateau Rigaud vegetable garden and fridge was on the table at the appointed hour - 'merci' Anna and Aib.

The wedding weekend was a lot of hard work and a lot of fun too. It was a chance to see Debrah that I couldn't pass up and somehow I felt like an integral part of the wedding planning having listened to the cursing over the months as deadlines were missed and changes were made. The least I could do was help Debrah bring it all to the reality that she had envisaged.

The weather on the day itself was glorious, having been changeable all week, the bride looked lovely, the service was emotional and beautiful (Debrah cried as we looked on from a distance), the chairs were all moved one more time (from lawn to barn for the wedding dinner), the speeches were predictable, the band were excellent and the bar was free (as in paid for by the client) as we joined in the late night celebrations with a few vodka shots.

In Debrah's case too many vodka shots - she was not a happy bunny on Sunday morning. Reflecting my newly found sensibleness (everything's relative) at some point during the evening I decided I had had enough and just put myself to bed - even though there was a full blown party going on - crazy.

If only I had been as sensible with the cassoulet - I really must go and lie down.