Full, but not in a nice way

Even better than “Happy drunk, I’m Christmas, I saw this on Adam Batterbee’s Facebook yesterday which seems to sum up Christmas excess rather well; “The last time I was this full I was partaking in some very niche pornography.” This reflects exactly how I have been feeling since Christmas day and it has not stopped.

Full is a very good description of how I felt after we arrived home from the Buftons following  a very unexpected but very welcome last-minute lunch. The more attentive readers of this column may recall that yesterday there was nothing in the communal diary for the day, but a phone call at around 1pm, just as we were contemplated opening something festive proved too much to resist. Roly and Lesley Bufton had decided to curry the Christmas left overs and needed some people to help them out with the eating of said remains. We are nothing if not hungry and thirsty helpful so felt it our duty to help some friends in need. So after a smidge of champagne, a rather nice St Emilion Grand Cru, Pouilly Fouisse and several other offerings upon which I was eventually rather too “tired” to focus on, we arrived home to the Mary Celeste.

Where were the insatiable hordes of children and their manic hordes of friends who had plagued us for over a week? Had they finally emptied all the fridges of everything edible and drinkable (not necessarily in that order)?. It turns out that it was the turn of some other poor parents who were to be subjected to their careful constructed collective attentions and whoever they were they had all my sympathy. That and my thanks. My thanks because for at least one night over the festive period it was not my responsibility for the feeding of the 5000.

Its Christmas and, after al, we do have the myth of Jesus Christ to thank for allowing us an excuse for excess. You may think that avid and regular reader and contributor to the comments section the Revered Jeff may have some objection to a biblical reference in this column compiled by an atheist of the first order, but he must surely be pleased for me to refer to this obviously believable event in favourable terms. I have been to Glastonbury and I know how little food is required to survive for days on end, as long as there are copious amounts of drugs available for sustenance. Perhaps that is why the story of such a big biblical crowd were so easily satisfied? Maybe Jesus’s minders were handing out the ganja?

Talking of mind bending properties, I wonder what the artist or creator of this piece of artwork below was consuming? It is a mural (or muriel as one of my oldest friends always describes them) which has been etched onto the walls of popular pizzeria the Valbonnaise in Valbonne. I have yet to work out its full meaning but the positioning of the meat cleaver is a worry. Also what is the significance of the words “French house” in English in such a parochial though charming place, one of the few places in Valbonne where little or no English is spoken?

So, whats happening here then?

Once again today there is nothing in the diary although tennis was discussed with the Wingco yesterday, so perhaps I will spend the day with the new love of my life, the Ipad, my Christmas present from that nice lady decorator or Iwife. I don’t know what made me think of it and it is not something that could apply to me but when a marriage comes to an end, could that be construed as the limit of her shelf wife?

Chris France