Well, what can I say? The weather this morning is an absolute shambles. D.I.S-MALLLLLLL. Honestly, what the is going on? Yesterday, it was so hot I wore shorts and a vest, looking like a questionable extra from Love Island, and today? Today, it’s foggier than my memory after bottomless brunch. I can’t even see across the field. Maybe it’s for the best; less chance of spotting the dog trying to eat its own tail again.

But of course, it’s the Bank Holiday weekend. We live in England, so naturally the weather’s decided to ‘do bits’ and absolutely piss it down. I swear, the Met Office must have a roulette wheel for these forecasts. Still, we made the most of the sunshine yesterday and legged it up to Sands-End, where we hit up Fish Cottage. Now, Fish Cottage doesn’t just serve fish & chips; it serves other banging food too. The twice-cooked chips were so good, I nearly wrote them a love song. Instead, I had to lob the dickhead dachshunds back in the car while I scoffed my chips and gravy. The little idiots were woofing at everyone and everything, especially our new friend Cedric the Seagull. (Queue dramatic new character music.)

Poor Cedric was doing laps around our table while his mam nipped off to do the big shop. She was probably scoping out someone else’s chips, trying to feed Cedric and his siblings before they start squawking for a Just Eat. Still, if you’re in the area, give Fish Cottage a bash, or don’t; then there are more chips for me.

Back at the cottage, we soaked up the last of the sun until Matthew announced it was nap o’clock. Fair play, he’d been pushing his luck since yesterday. As soon as he face-planted into the pillows, I had a classic brain fart and started piecing together the first issue of our comic. Sent it off to the publishers….done. I’m breaking all my blogs down into 30-page issues, so I don’t bore you all to death. So, it won’t be long before I’m holding a physical copy of our nonsense in my hands. Bonkers, isn’t it?

As I’ve said before, this is all to wind up NHS nurses, who’ll have to tell patients to SHUSH on cancer wards up and down the UK. I want to change the narrative and turn something usually daunting, sad, and miserable into moments of snorts, smiles, and proper tongue-in-cheek humour. That’s what us Brits are good at. Well, that and wet bank holiday weekends.

And the best part? You get to ride this bonkers journey with me. Aren’t you a lucky, lucky sod? Hahaha. Anyway, must dash; I left my straight jacket on a wool cycle, and the pet frog’s eyeing it up. Can’t have him looking more stylish than me, can I?

Chow for Now!

Kate xx

Disclaimer: No dachshunds, seagulls, or straitjackets were harmed in the making of this blog post. All weather complaints are purely for comedic effect. If you take them seriously, please consult your local weather man; failing that, your mum. Any resemblance to actual events, people, or chip-related incidents is entirely intentional. Side effects of reading may include spontaneous laughter, mild confusion, or a sudden craving for twice-cooked chips.

All brands mentioned (including Fish Cottage and anyone else featured here) are not sponsors, and they have not paid me in chips, gravy, or straight jackets. My opinions are entirely my own, formed through rigorous, highly scientific methods such as eating and complaining. Read at your own risk; bring an umbrella just in case.