I have just returned from Chatham, where for two hours I sat in the presence of a pecan pie, three kinds of potato chips, two dozen iced cupcakes, and a celebratory chocolate cake without touching any of them. I had some cheese, a few slices of kielbasa, rather a lot of diet ginger ale, and a single spoonful of somebody’s extra-special baked beans that I just *had* to try and did to avoid giving offence. At no time did I feel hard done by as everyone else chowed down on cake. I’m beginning to wonder who I am and what have I done with Charmion …
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