Water, water, everywhere...

Duh! Friday was one of those days.

There was the fat lass, thinking she felt hungry, but knowing she couldn't actually still be hungry because a delicious lunch had been munched not all that long ago (OK, if you must know - it was two large, juicy, deep red and fragrant chopped tomatoes and a spread of hot pepper paste on a slice of rye bread) .

The old 'bad' side of her started hunting about for something 'acceptable' to eat, and was getting close to doing something she'd regret when (thankfully) the penny dropped. Silly old fat lass! She was not hungry at all. What she was feeling was thirsty!

I usually fill my water bottle first thing when I get to work, and then have emptied it to refill again by just after lunch. What's more, I usually have a big mug of lemon tea mid-morning. However, Friday was a little hectic and although I drank most of my tea (albeit cold) my water bottle remained, filled to the brim and unloved, on my desk. It was also a summer's day, even if not the hottest summer's day ever.

Aha, dehydration! OK, that was remedied easily enough and... as if by magic, the hunger disappeared. Elementary, my dear Watson!

A trip out to a lovely waterside pub (on the banks of the River Nene) for lunch with friends on Saturday was also on the cards. We knew this was going to be a serious indulgence so planned accordingly and daintily nibbled a suitably 'minimalist' breakfast before we went.

I couldn't even consider fighting my way through three courses (oh, how things have changed!), so skipped the starter and sipped a spritzer instead. Mind you, lovely hubby's starter of home made chicken liver pate looked and smelled delicious and I did steal some of his salad accompaniment. He had a monster-sized battered fish fillet (from Moby Dick?) and thick-cut chips as a main course, and pronounced it to be very good - but couldn't finish it all, it was such a big portion.

I opted for the Ploughman's for my main course (laughably on the 'light bites' section of the menu) and was not disappointed. I think it would have stuffed two ploughmen, to be honest. There it sat, on a wooden trencher, a substantial hunk of freshly-baked, warm cottage loaf (and generous pat of butter on the side), an ample(!) chunk of cheddar, a thick slice of lovely home-cured ham, a quarter of a gorgeous home made pork pie with beautiful hot water crust pastry and loads of lovely jelly (which was delicious!) and the usual, plenteous, accompaniments of pickled onions, a Branston-style pickle and a fantastic chunky and spicy piccalilli (of which I am a serious fan). I'm afraid I couldn't do the cheese, bread and butter justice... but the rest disappeared!

Between the four of us, we shared some deliciously indulgent (and highly calorific) puds. Even so, we didn't manage to eat everything and felt a bit guilty that we couldn't. We groaned outside for a stroll by the water afterwards. Neither lovely hubby nor I wanted anything to eat for the rest of Saturday!

More water on Sunday morning. This time in the form of a lovely walk along the river Cam, setting off about 7.30 out towards Baits Bite Lock. We figured that we probably walked about six and a half miles in total (when we added in our little 'oooh, I wonder what's down there' diversions) and had a fabulous morning out in the sunshine. Chatted to people out for their own constitutional, made friends with a variety of dogs, saw rowers, runners, cyclists and strollers, watched herons, ducks, swans and a gazillion pigeons. Food was rather more restrained than on Saturday and our tummies said a heartfelt 'thanks' for that. A very good day.

In fact, a very good weekend.