ALISON'S DIARY: Would need two Spanish skirts to fit me. Am I turning into such an impressive land mass I need a passport to get over myself?

Byline: ALISON CRAIG

Monday

Go to Marks & Spencer one of the few shops where I can buy things off the peg and know they will fit me and get a really groovy pair of sandals. But when get home I find they don't fit. I'd lifted my usual size six but it looks like I'll have to go back and get a half size bigger. Are my feet now suffering from middle-age spread?

Also saw a stunning size 12 skirt in Zara there is something about that shop, swear my heart beats a little faster when I cross the threshold. Lots of lovely stuff, all Spanish and linen. Well, loved this skirt but would have to buy two and sew them together to fit me. Are Spanish women very petite or am I officially turning into such an impressive land mass I may soon need a passport to get over myself?

Tuesday

It seems am not alone in having fat feet. Avril who works for sevendays mag, and is a few years younger than me, says her feet have started the middle-age spread, too. I was told your metabolic WHAT A NIGHT. WE FACE THE FINAL CURTAIN WITH CAMMY SINGING MY WAY AT KARAOKErate slows down as you get older but mine seems to have stopped altogether.

As well as worrying about my feet, I'm not happy about my stomach, either, come to think of it which I would rather not but it is becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. I'm still chopping and changing between the no-carb Atkins diet and the low-fat Rosemary Conley diet. Eating lots of carbs may explain the huge glut of stomach that bursts from the top of my trousers all the time.

And when I say trousers, I have only one pair that fit me. I've had them for about five years and there's a spilt in the side which I keep sewing up. Due to my lack of domestic prowess in the embroidery department and the strain they are clearly under, they usually burst open again.

Wednesday

If men did not exist women would all be supermodels. Men are always producing biscuits or making curry and other fattening things. Dave cooks as though he is catering for 40 and as a result, eat for 40.

Get a lovely letter from two people in Cullen, Aberdeenshire where I am off to this weekend for a pal's birthday saying I must try Cullen ice cream, Cullen Skink and have a good look at the railway viaduct. Thanks for taking the time to write, I'll do my best to try all three. We are also booked on a Puffin Cruises boat to go dolphin and seal spotting. Am geared up for all weathers and am ready to leave first thing tomorrow morning.

Thursday

Stop in Dundee at lunchtime and get lost as usual. Everytime go to Dundee I end up down a one-way street, the wrong way. Lose count of the number of fists shaken at me. turn round, wave, smile broadly and shout, 'Woman drivers, eh?'

That usually confuses the hell out of people.

Stop off in Aberdeen to see my Auntie Margaret, who knows everyone in the world. It takes about 30 minutes to walk round the corner as she stops to speak to everyone. There is one guy she has good long chat with. 'Who was that?' I ask once he has wandered off. 'Oh, he works in Safeway. His name is Jim and he used to help me when my daughter-in-law came up to stay as she is a vegan and never knew what to cook her.' My auntie's a lovely soul.

Friday

Finally head off up to Cullen. It is about an hour-and-a-half drive north of Aberdeen and the sun is beating down when I arrive at my hotel, The Seafield Arms. Check in and bump straight into the birthday girl, Tracy, and her man Graeme.

We go and explore the area and after five minutes go into a karaoke bar. It is 5pm and we are just settling in when we get a call to go back to the hotel to meet our pal Cammy and his wife Kathleen. We have a lovely meal, tell revolting stories and prepare for tomorrow's party. At 11pm, I head to bed. Tomorrow is going to be a big day so I must be fresh.

Saturday

Fresh my foot or fat foot in my case. Feel rough but a cooked breakfast helps. We then take a meander round Cullen. It's a lovely town, the beach is beautiful and completely deserted. On the way back we stop to sample the famous ice cream. I get a huge cone of homemade vanilla.

After a lie down, 12 of us including nine women meet for drinks and head to the dining room, which the hotel has done up for us. After we eat we spring the surprise karaoke and continue the party in another room.

I realise while striding around trying to be Cab Calloway doing Minnie the Moocher that it may be time for bed but I can't leave before hearing Tracy and Graeme sing Elton John and Kiki Dee's Don't Go Breaking My Heart. We face the final curtain with Cammy singing My Way. What a night wine, women, song and three brave men.