Still staying with my grandparents in the country. I’ve been having a gay old time chasing rabbits and terrifying the post boy until the Fun Police (aka mum) came home for a visit. She’d barely got in the door before declaring I’ve got fat. Charming. Everyone knows curves are in, heat even said so this week. SHE can talk – she barely has her hand out of a bag of Kettle Chips, not to mention the amount of white wine that goes down her throat. Anyway. I’ve had my beloved evening cheese taken away from me AND she’s even confiscated my Good Boy dumbbells. What fun is left now? It’s enough to turn to drink myself. *eyes up Jacob’s Creek*