Many years ago, before the farmer and I were married but when we were 'skirting around each other' neither of us actually saying anything but both within ourselves thinking that perhaps we had something worth developing in our friendship, we both belonged to a walking group. It fell upon me to organise the next walk so of course I had to do the walk to make sure I had it right - (nothing worse in a walking group, believe me, than getting lost when the leader for the day is supposed to have planned it down to the last blade of grass). The farmer said he could come with me on the planning walk after the Sunday morning milking. So off we set.
I undertook to make the picnic lunch and he said he had a rucksack he would bring to carry the sandwiches and the flasks. ('Never have a dog and yet have to bark yourself' as my mother would have said). Off we set - I had my map-reading skills well-oiled and the walk (and the picnic ) went off without a hitch.
As we sat in the car (we had left it in the village car park) finishing off the flasks before returning home, I noticed we had parked beside a red telephone box - not many of those around these days). I pointed it out to the farmer saying that it was a long time since I had seen one. He looked at me in astonishment, pointing out that there was still one in the village where we both lived.
I was sure he was wrong - I had never noticed it (these days we are almost all on our own phones so why should we need to notice one?) So sure was I that I bet him the very largest bar there was of Dairy milk Chocolate that I was was right. We drove home and on the way to drop me off at my house we stopped in the village - at the red telephone box!!
I knew he loved dairy milk chocolate. He put the bar on the window sill next to his chair. It took him almost a year to eat it - one square at a time - now and again offering one square to his young nephew who always came on a Sunday.
I also love chocolate (what's not to like?) - I would have had a job to make that bar last a week. Self control - that's what I lacked. At Christmas this year I bought two boxes of chocs - one for me at home to offer to callers along with a sherry and one to give a particular friend if she called. She didn't but by New Year's Day (when she did call) I had finished off both boxes single handed more or less.
The moral (for me at any rate) is do not buy chocolate unless you want a spreading waist line. I am weak-willed where chocolate is concerned. I allow myself one cup of hot chocolate a day (made with water - just a touch of milk) - I buy one tin of the mixture each week on my Tesco order and when it has gone it has gone, Too bad if I fancy another mug of hot choc.
A rather silly story about a rather silly addiction but believe me addiction is no laughing matter. I have a friend of more than forty years who is addicted to alcohol. I haven't seen him for a couple of years until this week. To say he has gone down is an understatement. My heart bleeds for him and the fact that things have obviously gone far too far and there is nothing left for him and he knows it. I said nothing when we met - what is there to say. When he went I cried = for a life governed by alcohol. The alcohol had won - as it always does.