The mountain of food that was accumulated over months has now been reduced to a small hill and leftovers stored away in Tupperware boxes in the freezer where they will remain until September next year at which time they’ll be thrown away to make room for next Christmases mountain.
The stress that Christmas brings with it to usually content households where everyone just rubs along is over.
Or is it?
Because now the repercussions begin arising out of the fact that it wasn’t only the ‘goose/turkey that was getting fat’.
Eating and drinking over three or four days what would usually last three or four weeks has taken its toll leaving people lifeless, listless and in some cases seriously bloated.
Belts are being loosened around girths that feel as if they’ve doubled in size and on top of that people feel broke not only physically but also financially.
Across the nation and even here in sleepy Ipplepen ladies are trying all they can to prove that the previously ever reliable bathroom scales must have developed a fault.
They stand on them as erect as a guard on duty at the Royal household, they stand precariously on one leg arms outstretched to maintain their balance, they stand in what is their lightest clothing and in some case with no clothes on at all – but it makes no difference.
The scales scream back at them “you have put on weight – do something about it”.
Families sit in anticipation of what is coming and is now an annual post Christmas event as the ladies dressed in their Christmas dressing gowns emerge to announce..
“That’s it we are all going on a healthy diet and doing more exercises until ‘I’ get back to my target weight”
The family of course now go through the annual confusion of trying to understand why and how an “I” issue has suddenly become a “we” problem?
And what are we going to do with all of the mince pies, unopened nibbles and chocolate that hven’t been consigned to the freezer?
More importantly to some is what do we do with the half bottle of Bailey’s or port from which only two glasses have been taken and the ‘left over bottles of wine, proseco and beer?
For those who don’t know because of its location between Dartmoor to the north and the sea to the south, or more specificly between Newton Abbot and Totnes we have a micro climate which causes any opened alcohol to ‘go off’ within 72 hours of being opened.
Which means it has to either be drunk or disposed of.
But back to the post Christmas ordeal.
The men naturally have the solution to taking more exercise which basically amounts to the simple device of when walking the dog taking the long route to the Welly.
It never has worked before and never will but the intentions though not noble are at least optimistic.
“No” the women say, “that isn’t good enough we are going to make and stick to our New Years resolutions this time, healthy food and real exercise”.
Which is all well and good but most men of my age in Ipplepen think that a physical warm-up would be sufficient if it was no more than a rub down with the sporting life and an extra strong mint (the later to try and hide the smell of the last pint we had).
On the positive side seven days after Christmas it’s New Years Day so nothing is going to start until the second of January at the very least and resolutions for all of the good intentions are usually ended by the seventh so it’s just a case of hanging in there for a fortnight.
There is a saying that goes along the lines of “the road to hell is paved with good intentions”.
If it is then – and with apologies to our vicar – I have the feeling that the majority of my neighbours in Ipplepen will not be needing their extra Christmas jumpers in the next life.