Well folks, here I am again – heading homeward after a rather weird week.

For those that don’t know, my mum was admitted to hospital about a fortnight ago, and last weekend she simultaneously had a fall in hospital, while my sister fell over in her kitchen and was being x-rayed for what we now know is a broken bone in her foot. Upon hearing this news I of course started to fire up Skyscanner for flights, a little odd given I’d only just flown home after a scheduled visit for my Sisters 60th birthday.

So this past week, punctuated by a quick bowling trip and a solo trip to see the new Indiana Jones movie which I loved, I’ve been backward and forwarding to St James’s (Jimmy’s) hospital in Leeds on visiting duty.

I won’t share with you why she’s been admitted, because I value my teeth, but thankfully she is doing much better, and at time of going to press she is sitting with her worldly possessions in a carrier bag awaiting ambulance transport home. It should’ve been yesterday, but pending a physio talking to another physio talking to…, well…, you get the idea, it didn’t quite pan out. So thankfully I went to see her yesterday afternoon and said precautionary goodbyes, even though I was hoping to see her again before I left to fly home.

So, here I am again in the Yorkshire Lounge, a good 10 degrees cooler than the rest of the airport, with my second glass of rose in hand. I’ve already had 2 plates of meatballs, 2 (tiny) bits of Bakewell tart and 4 flapjacks, while the salad eating gin and tonic brigade pretend not to judge me. Bothered?! Nope. For some reason all of a sudden I’m Hank Marvin, and I won’t see home until 10.30pm tonight. I will never succumb to the Ryanair panini while there is breath in my body!

I may even do another walk past just in case the Millionaires Shortbread has reappeared. What are you going to do about it Karen?!

I’m seeing all of the storm clouds out of the window though so please no delays or diversions, or I’ll need further sustenance.

Massive thanks this week to Von for being both hospital taxi and airport shuttle, you’ve been epic – love you bud x

I am once again reminded that I hate the bustle and traffic of the UK now. I’m missing the husband I’ve barely seen in the last month, and all of my fur kids. I will need to do an immediate dahlia assessment for new members of the class of 23, and begin prep for friends arriving on Bastille Day .

Looking forward to disproportionately excellent fireworks (that rivalled Disney last year), over the medieval ZimZim tower in our local town, accompanied by brass band renditions of Adele songs that borderline verge on out of tune. Trestle tables in the square and some gaiety. Yes please. Even the massive queues for the disorganised beer tent I’m ready for.

Currently I’m sniffing the inside of both elbows to determine which of the 17 perfumes I tried I prefer, and trying to remember which one I’ve sprayed where. My plan was to wait until we go to Nice and then hit up the Fragonard shop, but I’ve run out of absolutely everything. Pretty sure I’ve settled on Guerlain Rosa Rossa. I like old fashioned florals, things that smell like the actual things if you know what I mean. Nothing too strong and headache inducing. I wanted to love the Gucci flora range because the bottles are so pretty, but it was not to be. Some I couldn’t smell, and some were so strong they would’ve floored a yak.

Do I need a third glass of rose, I ask myself?

I think we all know the answer.

See you back in France for more quality content!

Oooh, and I’m also now on threads as Rosbifblog. I’m calling it kind twitter for now. Come and find me if you haven’t already – I appreciate it’s kinda difficult if like the majority of my insta followers, you live in the EU.

Mwah xx