The last fag in the village

I’ve been wondering whether or not it’s wise for me to put this piece of information out for public consumption…but then I decided that if I’m serious about it then I shouldn’t have any worries. So, are you ready? Because this is going to shock one or two of you…

Here goes…

Fag-ash Geoff has stopped smoking.

There, I’ve said it. I am now officially a non-smoker. The funny thing about it is I wasn’t thinking about stopping. Hugo just happened to leave one of those ‘self-help’ books on the coffee table which I picked up with the sort of cynicism I usually reserve for the Daily Mail. Then I read it from cover to cover and before I had even finished, I didn’t want to smoke another cigarette. So, damn me and my sceptical ways. You were right all along. I have always been wrong. So that’s that then. The end of an era. Marlboro Man better go seek out a new sucker.

So, Boxing Day. The sun came out for a bit and so we went for a long walk along the Dordogne to use up a bit of energy – all this sitting around and eating can really cause the lethargy to set in. I got on with a bit of writing, then we popped around to M&A’s for a swifty before returning home for champagne and a roast dinner cooked by yours truly. Now I’ve been a little bit afraid of the oven, especially since last time I used it the results of my culinary efforts resembled the product of the end of a busy day at the crematorium. This time I kept a constant eye on the proceedings and my roast looked like something Gary Rhodes would have been proud of. The most fantastic bottle of St Emilion wine (purchased in St Emilion back in November) accompanied, and then a couple of crème brulee and raspberry tarts. Mmm hmm.

We finished the evening with a screening of Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind which was one of my Christmas pressies. I love that film – and yeah, OK, I had a tear in my eye at the end – but that’s probably something to do with the nicotine withdrawal.