Right, my loves, you know the drill: grab a brew, put your feet up (preferably not on the dog), and prepare to donate another 10 minutes of your precious existence to my ramblings. If you’re new here, welcome to the circus. If you’re a regular, you know you’re just as much to blame for encouraging me.

This week? Oh, pull up a chair! A new sheriff is in town, Colin. Yes, you heard that right. Colin. I see you cocking an eyebrow, wondering why, in the name of fook, she called him Colin, let alone a half-decent-looking one. Well, brace yourselves: Colin isn’t real. He’s not a dodgy neighbour or a forgotten cousin from Bolton. He’s AI-generated, my loves. That’s right, I’ve named my CBD gummy supply ‘Colin’ because, frankly, it’s the only name that felt right to walk hand-in-hand with Cannabis. Don’t question it. I’m menopausal, and this is what my brain does for shits and giggles.

Anyway, back to the action: Colin is here to shake up the Wild West of pain management, ready to face off with Carrie’s Codeine and the Mighty Morphine Power Stranger. I’m half expecting handbags at dawn and maybe a cameo from Martron Walker of the Wards with her trolley of sausage doom. Stay tuned!

Honestly, though, Colin (CBD gummies, just to be clear, not a bloke with an earring and a love for darts) has been an absolute game-changer for both Matthew and yours truly. Yes, I’ve joined the revolution. If it’s good enough for Mr Batten, it’s good enough for Mrs Batten, you bet your last hobnob on it! I can now, hand on heart, say I’ve stopped taking co-codamol for chronic pain, slashed the migraine meds, and started feeling more like myself than I have in months.

But this is where I do my best impression of a responsible adult: please, for the love of all things holy, do NOT take this as medical advice. My only qualification for dishing out advice is a degree in criminal psychology, NOT a PhD in medical science, which means I can tell when you’re lying about how many biscuits you’ve eaten, or what your motive for murder really was. Always check with your actual doctor if you are on medication before leaping aboard the CBD train.

Matthew? Well, he’s doing brilliantly. Maybe too brilliantly. The gummies have convinced him he’s Superman minus the cape, plus a wonky dressing gown. He reckons he can conquer the world, but his body occasionally pops up to remind him, “Oi, mate, you’re still in cancer recovery, maybe don’t try to mow the lawn, paint the shed, and run a marathon before lunch.”

So now it’s about finding the right balance: using Colin’s magic when it’s needed, and not using it as an excuse to try to leap tall buildings (or, let’s be honest, the washing basket). It’s basically like parenting a sugar-fuelled toddler on a pissing down bank holiday Monday.

Meanwhile, the little rascal has a queue of home chefs at the door, all desperate to make him dinner. If you’re one of them, just know, you’re not the only one. He’s cheating on you with other chefs! I, for one, celebrate this: once you couldn’t get him to eat a crumb, now he’s working his way through the entire Brid menu. As for me? Don’t judge me for being a shite wife and not cooking for him. I’m the only breadwinner in this house; someone’s got to keep a roof over our heads. I have been looked after myself a few times by Nikki at Seaside Pies and there is always food happening at New Pasture Lane Community Centre – Bridlington so I am always fed too.

If you do wish to buy gummies yourself, we do have a £20 cash off coupon link, and will advise you the best licensed UK seller to purchase from, not some back alley Jim selling you rat poison moulded with bicarbonate of soda in a silicone mould, with a tinge of green food colouring for good measure. Just reach out to us and I will send you the link.

That’s all for now, darlings. Tune in at the end of the week for more tales from the Batten madhouse, the happenings at the community centre in more detail that you couldn’t make up if you tried, and a random note I am wondering if my skin will turn green with eating gummies each night?

Chow for now

Kate x

Disclaimer:
Warning! Reading this blog may result in spontaneous tea snorting, excessive eye rolling, and a sudden urge to name your next baby Colin. The author is not a medical professional, a chef, or even a vaguely competent gardener. Any advice given herein should be taken with a pinch of salt, a dollop of sarcasm, and a sturdy biscuit for support.

Please consult your doctor, your mum, or a responsible adult before making any life decisions based on these ramblings. Side effects may include laughter, confusion, and the irresistible urge to put the kettle on. You have been warned!