One has been slightly unwell recently. Of course, one put it down to the spectacular failure of the Fortescue party to seize control of government at the recent general election and the resulting blue funk that followed. However, ones quack begs to differ, claiming a dissolute lifestyle of far too much Port and Brandy and good food is to blame. Absolute balderdash! If the dashed new fellah at the surgery knew anything of cooks culinary peculiarities he would understand why one spends most of ones mealtimes eating at ones gentlemans club. At least there the last fatality was when Sir Basil keeled over from a surfeit of plum duff rather than shuffling off this mortal coil after just smelling the food as most of cooks victims do.
Anyhow, the upshot of it all is that one has been forced to go on a regime of healthy eating which seems to involve consuming the kinds of food that look like the fodder one used to feed ones horse when one was in the light cavalry. Damned stuff comes in sacks too, not sure whether to eat it or get Clackthorpe to resurface the long drive with it. Was convinced for days that one of ones niece Jemimas pet rabbits had done number twos in the cereal bowl. The mem' has gone all organic and environmentally friendly too and has been using it instead of a couple of rounds of OO when she takes potshots at the ramblers in the lower meadow.
Unsurprisingly cook has thrown herself somewhat wholeheartedly into the new regime, whipping up such delights as Alfalfa and Sprout surprise...unfortunately the surprise comes two hours later when ones evening game of bridge is interrupted by a series of small explosions from the staff quarters lavatorial facilities. What's more, the verger has not been quite the same since she tried out her Tofu and Spinach casserole on him and has become convinced that the sulpherous stench that follows him wherever he goes is a visitation from Beelzebub. It took the vicar three days to convince him to emerge from the vestry where he had locked himself with a supply of crucifixes and holy water and was awaiting armageddon.
Of course, the fast food franchise in the neighbouring village of Slymme-On-The-Water is loving it as ones staff have taken to eating there. After all when faced with death by Tofu and sprouts what's a little diabetes to worry about.