Tonight is a night for celebration! It's going to be the 1,000th night I've spent away in the caravan since I took up this happy pursuit in 2002. (I keep a spreadsheet to tell me these things, naturally!) Normally I'd have a Slimming World compliant lunch, fairly lean, and then cook a tasty (but still Slimming World compliant) evening meal of sea bass, potatoes, asparagus and tomatoes, with soy sauce. But in view of this Auspicious Event - the 1,000th night away, no less - I think I may justly treat myself to a meal out - lunch or an evening meal - and not worry overmuch about the cost, nor the weight consequences. After all, in many ways caravanning requires a good deal of personal effort: organising the bookings, loading up the car and caravan, towing the ensemble over long distances, setting up at the destination, and a number of daily chores that need mild physical exertion. It's mostly a laid-back kind of holiday, but the rewards are definitely earned with a significant amount of personal input, and tonight's celebration is a milestone pay-back to myself for a long series of trips that required a lot more than just a few clicks on a holiday website, and a taxi ride to the airport.
I had considered - completely out of sentimentality, if I'm honest - attending the Slimming World group meeting in Fremington late this afternoon. I've paid for the weigh-in, and I'm perfectly entitled to go. (And indeed the same applies to the SW group meeting in Axminster next week) But I think I should stick firmly to my recent executive decision to end attendance. I will save myself the hassle of making my way to Fremington through Barnstaple's rush hour (believe me, it's the worst traffic in North Devon). Besides, it seems nonsensical to get weighed, as if striving to get a few more pounds off, after a big lunchtime blow-out, or with a big evening tummy-buster shortly to come.
And it would be so dishonest: to make out that I'm as avid as ever to become a SW Life Member, when I've already stopped the show, and got off the bus, and let the train go without me, preferring instead to go it alone - sticking mostly to the excellent SW plan, but allowing myself to be a trifle more relaxed about my food and drink intake. I don't want to deceive anybody, and fib about what I'm now doing. But nor can I be frank, and say 'Well, I got my two-and-a-half-stone-lost certificate last October, six months ago, but haven't made any more progress since then; and on the basis that this is as far as I can comfortably get, I'm calling it a day.' That (as fellow ex-SW friend Angie has said) might easily be interpreted as 'giving up'. I have no business to say such things in the midst of people whose willpower to get down to a healthy weight might be very fragile indeed. And if I did attend, I'd surely be remarked upon as a third-time holiday visitor - and quite possibly congratulated in front of everyone there as a super-keen SW member! That would be rather embarrassing, in view of my firm decison to quit. I don't want any such spurious acclaim. I'm strictly last year's heroine. It's thank you - thank you very much indeed, from my heart - but goodbye.
Mind you, I'm not contemplating a monstrous pigout at lunchtime or tonight. Oh no, it'll be something much more restrained! At a pub or hotel probably, but an upmarket one where I will feel a proper sense of occasion. And I will go for fish. Hmmm...there's the Seagate in Appledore, the usual place I have a posh lunch during the Appledore Book Festival. Or why not the Commodore Hotel at Instow again? Today's project.
It was lunch at the Seagate - a pork main course and no dessert, washed down with one gin and slim and a black coffee. Satisfying, though, and quite elegant enough for this kind of personal celebration.
Of course, after a proper lunch, a weigh-in later in the afternoon was completely out of the question! But you might say my little indulgence was a deliberate tactic - so that misplaced sentiment, or a wish not to waste a session I'd already paid for, wouldn't drive me to attend SW.
Fish tonight in the caravan. I do like my own cooking.