Pigging Out

I snack on chocolate biscuits and home-made shortbread between main meals, put lashings of butter on toast and cream in coffee, and end the day with honey-roasted nuts, crisps, a pint of beer and a large measure of whisky.

‘You seem to be doing all the right things,’ says my dietician.

Lucky me, I can hear those of you battling to lose a few pounds murmuring.

Not really. It’s all down to an operation fourteen months ago for oesophageal cancer.

I’ve shed twenty one pounds and no amount of bingeing makes a difference.

Now where’s that biscuit tin?