There’s a duck analogy about how life should be conducted – “Be like a duck. Calm on the surface, but always paddling like the dickens underneath.” (said the actor Michael Caine). Today, I was a duck with spasms. It seemed no matter how focused I was on trying to keep it all together the kids would spin around like two Tasmanian Red Devils and create carnage.
The challenge I am facing is that as a freelance consultant, following my two week holiday, I am having to cram an entire months work into two weeks to ensure I make the moolah. This means that I am working until 10pm most nights, trying to keep life in Monica from Friends order, and deliver on the contracts. I am not complaining – it’s just a bit manic. I spent hours trying to get my head around the workload, the washing and plus a few other bits of technical wizardry.
I am hopefully interviewing Maj Dan Kearney, from Junger and Hetherington’s, hotly tipped for an Oscar, award winning documentary, Restrepo on a skype video call. I am trying to work out how to set the video up, and record the interview on my lonesome, from my little cupboard of an office, without looking like a complete biff, and at the same time, retaining some degree of dignity and professionalism. This matter is still pending resolution.
Meanwhile, the Menace, in the midst of this business, emptied the entire contents of a full washing up liquid bottle into the kitchen sink and then smeared it all over the counter. At lunch, she knocked a full bowl of baked beans on the kitchen floor, at dinner while watching Merlin (I really love Bradley James – like properly, not just a pretend girl crush. This is the real deal!)
*swoon* where was I?…….oh yes, she tipped peas and spaghetti all over the the living room carpet and then I had to clear up a battle scene. By this I mean, The Grenade had constructed an enormous Tolkeinesque Halo and plastacine battle, which dominated the dining room table…….you know the drill – mess, chaos, dynamic, constantly frenetic, little balls of energy, and so, as I was clearing up supper and trying to work out where Bradley and I will live when we betrothe, I called up to The Grenade, “er what’s The Menace up to?”
“She’s in her room rubbing herself with white stuff!”
“Shit!!” I knew instantly what had happened. Seriously, I thought I had bloody well hidden it. She must have found that hiding place now. As I turned into the bedroom, there she was sat on the changing table……
Fuckity, f*ck, f*ck, f*ck, f*ck!!! Sudocream is so gloopy, tacky and thick and very white! It just added more time on what needed to be done so I didn’t get my work done but there’s always tomorrow.
Just as an aside, this week was Divas Dine at the Officers Mess, which was a great evening. The delectable Divas who were organising it did a great job of breaking the ice with party games. There was pass the parcel. When it stopped at me I opened it up and there was a sachet with an avocado on it. I was a bit perplexed and wondered why I had won some salad dressing; but when I inspected it more closely it turned out to be a lovely face-pack. (After the day I have had today I shall be needing it to keep my face from cracking under the strain.) We played the ‘Who Am I?” game which got people up, moving and mingling. It was such a fab idea because forced everyone to chat to folk we each didn’t know. I talked to Mrs Staish (the Station Commander’s missus) and Mrs Gizfour (the wiflette of one of the wing commander’s) about creating a social do that all wives can go to and not just Officer’s Wives. There is a road at RAF Odiham that physically and metaphorically divides those that are officers and those that aren’t. It is a barrier to inter-rank mingling.
As a resolution we are launching a new Divas event. It’s a get together for ALL RAF Odiham Divas. Details will be available via Odiham FYI – ask at the HIVE how to subscribe. Don’t be shy now – WAGs come out, come out wherever you are.