It’s another classic Friday Lunch Club at the community centre, where glamour meets chaos, and the aroma of ambition (mainly garlic and bubbling cheese) fills the air. Dazzle Dutchess Debbie, armed with her apron and a spatula that could double as a baton, is orchestrating a lasagne operation that would make Gordon Ramsay cry tears of joy! The lunch is so banging it sends over 20 people waddling away with a smile and probably a cheese-induced nap on the horizon; it was for me, anyway.

Meanwhile, Kate is hunched over in the corner, surrounded by piles of paperwork; her head is spinning with numbers, fixed assets, and account numbers for the next biggest funding application of her life.

Later, after she gets home and in full post-lasagne recovery mode, Grandchild Number One swoops in straight after school. She’s barely through the door before she’s off again, setting a new personal best for shortest hello, and possibly breaking the sound barrier on her way out. We didn’t even have time to ask if she wanted tea before she ran over to her friend’s house, let alone find out how her week was. Yeah, hi, Rose Bud. Nice to see you. How’s your week been?….. Gone, puff!

We wind down the evening with a gourmet McDonald’s tea, because nothing says ‘fine dining’ like cold fries and a barely warm burger, because our delivery guy takes more than one order at a time. He thinks he’s saving time, not realising he’s actually taking his time.

But looming on the horizon is Monday: the day we’ve been waiting for! Matthew’s results after Rodney’s eviction have FINALLY come through, and we have to attend a meeting with the medical team at Scarborough Hospital on Mon-Dee afternoon. Have you noticed how East Yorkshire folk pronounce Monday, as Mon-Dee… So this weekend we’re slightly on tenterhooks, holding our breath, and possibly crossing things we didn’t know could be crossed.

So, keep your fingers, toes, and eyes crossed for us. The lasagne’s gone, cos it was banging! The paperwork is still multiplying, even when I’m not there, and the next adventure is just a phone call away. Stay tuned, and pass the parmesan!

Have a great weekend,

Kate x

Stupid Disclaimer: No grandmothers or lasagnas were harmed in the making of this blog post. Cheese-induced naps are entirely at your own risk. All events described may or may not have been exaggerated by an extra scoop of parmesan. Please consult your doctor before attempting to eat enough lasagne for 20 people or break the sound barrier during family visits. Side effects may include excessive smiling, spontaneous Italian accents, and the urge to cross all available fingers, toes, and eyes.