Right then, gather round! It’s Wed-Nes-Day morning, which at the NPL Bread-Shed (that’s what we call our community pantry at NPLCC, because plain old ‘pantry’ is for posh types and people who iron their Y Fronts) means only one thing: the arrival of the legendary Fair Share delivery. Every Wednesday, I would say like clockwork, but you have a better chance of knowing when hell will freeze over.  We receive a whopping 35 trays of supermarket goodies that, if left to their own devices, would be hurtling towards landfill faster than I can dodge a question from a pissed-off customer.

Before you start picturing me rummaging through bins, scrubbing off bits of broccoli and flogging it to the unsuspecting public, let me stop you right there. No dumpster diving here! Fair Share is a colossal charity that one day, like a mum in a supermarket who’s just found out Easter eggs aren’t half-price, marched up to the government and said, “Oi! Stop binning perfectly good food, give it to us and we’ll dish it out to charities, who can then feed people for less than the price of a pint!”

Let’s face it, the cost of living these days is bonkers. Back in my day, you could feed a family for a week with a bag of spuds and still have enough change for a pack of Space Raders. Now, you have to sell a kidney just to keep the lecky topped up, and don’t get me started on what the gas meter’s like on a cold night!

Anyway, I digress. Back to Wednesday’s delivery, after all, that’s what you came to this blog for, right? Or is it? Who gives a shit? I stopped caring what I was writing 5 minutes ago. As we were down a few staff yesterday, it was just Nanna Bambi and me. That is, until Matthew sniffed out the possibility of free food and, just like that, appeared faster than you can say ‘reduced-to-clear Pots of Joy’. If there’s a whiff of free sweets, Matthew’s there with bells on (and not always where you’d expect, either).

The three of us lined up to greet the Fair Share van man, who, by the way, has a soft spot for our Nanna Bambi. Bless him, he’s got about as much chance with her as I have of running a marathon in a pair of Speedos, wearing no bra and making the 5 o’clock news without being arrested first. Still, you’ve got to admire optimism.

This week’s haul was a proper cornucopia: fruit, veg, a watermelon’s the size of my head- be quick if you want one! Cos there aren’t many. Start pitching your tents outside the yellow gates at 3 a.m., and you might just be lucky enough to get one. If you happen to miss out, you can always try to bribe one from a lucky customer on the street corner, like you’re buying crack from a dodgy dealer. The Fair-share delivery also included enough fresh, healthy food to make a rabbit weep with joy. But did Matthew care? Did he heck. Straight for the sweetie section, like a greedy kid at a birthday party. It’s a miracle Nanna Bambi didn’t throttle him with a string bag.

After some classic British bickering and a bit of ‘gently’ telling Matthew to get his sticky mitts off the chocolate, we got everything unpacked and arranged for Thursday’s pantry shop. That’s when Nanna Bambi opens up at 9am, ready to greet the community, hand out bargains, and offer a cheery chat (or a stern word, if you try to nab all the Jaffa Cakes).

We’ve warned her that her new comic-book name, Nanna Bambi, might become a local legend, and if she hears it more than 300 times in a morning, she’s to stick her head in the freezer for a cool down. With Matthew’s antics, she’s been driven round the twist three times this week already. But that’s all part of the fun at the NPL Bread-Shed.

So, there you have it: another crazy morning at NPLCC. Just wait until after the summer holidays, when everything that happens in one full 6-hour shift could fill a complete encyclopedia series twice over…..Am laughing cos you think I’m lying! ahahahahahaha!

Any-Hoo, tune in to the next episode of this blog for more crazy experiences that I could not make up if I tried.

Until then, chow for now!

Kind Regards

Kate x