The Final Fundraiser

In my ongoing effort to hit my £800 fundraising target, I have not left the kitchen for a week. Well, perhaps I am exaggerating but considering I normally take the ‘I Only Cook to Eat’ stance on culinary activity, the past few days have been fairly full-on.

I never expected to hit my target simply from reaching out to friends and family, so I decided to send my sister to work with a batch of homemade brownies and flapjacks to sell. (I hasten to add that I have never made either before without using a pre-packaged mixture, so I was certainly feeling the pressure.) With my trusty kitchen aide – one Miss Beatrice – by my side, I knew I was in safe hands.

Flapjacks pre-oven. Never would've guessed you had to cook a flapjack!

Flapjacks pre-oven. Never would’ve guessed you had to cook a flapjack!

I have learned many things from this week, the most important lesson being that it is heartbreaking to produce a large quantity of yummy treats for the exclusive enjoyment of others, without so much as a tiny morsel to taste before you hand them over. I would liken the experience to naming a golden retriever puppy and caring for and nurturing it for a month before having to hand it over to a stranger, never to see it again. Heartbreaking.

Mixing up some drool-worthy brownie mix

Mixing up some drool-worthy brownie mix

That said, missing out on the taste of my sweet treats was a small price to pay for a successful fundraiser (collected about £30) AND the opportunity to be the first of my family to see Emily’s office from the inside. Very exciting, I must say.

One of Em's colleagues enjoying the fruits of my labour

One of Em’s colleagues candidly enjoying the fruits of my labour

I’m not sure I can take much more of this cookery business, so I shall have to leave it there.

Only one week to go before I head off to Zambia! My brilliant parents and sisters hosted a surprise going-away party for me on Thursday and, despite my debilitating fear of surprises, it was lovely to see my friends before I go away for the bulk of the summer. I wonder what my local pub will look like in Zambia… probably a carbon copy of The Griffin.


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