Walking the Line

I hereby confess my sins for Sunday 23rd October.

I was walking the line, but fell off this morning.

After a very abstemious celebratory dinner on my part, for my stepdaughter's birthday last night, I was persuaded to partake of a raspberry bun in Peter's Yard this morning.
The persuasion was so easily accomplished by his Lordship, who had had a slightly less abstemious dinner and who hadn't managed to face breakfast at the usual hour, but who felt slightly hungrier at the bewitching hour of 11am.

No sooner consumed than the guilt set in. I cannot rely on a few Hail Mary's to assuage this; we Scottish presbyterians have no simple way of atoning for our guilt and must suffer the consequences under baggy jumpers and trousers with elasticated waists.
There is no doubt that bulimia has its attractions, but this is no solution for me either.

And so I must either starve until supper, go forth and exercise ( how much stair stepping equates to a raspberry bun?) or read the Sunday papers and resolve to step back onto the line tomorrow.

Yes, that's the answer, Sunday paper reading and the line tomorrow.