Ooh, I've been away a while, haven't I? Just that I don't feel much like an army wife any more, I suppose. There's almost nothing army about my life these days, other than walking to school past a live firing range, and the very aggressive sign telling me not to pick the daffodils (I've told the girls that if they do pick one of the daffodils they will be shot, or at the very least set upon by one of the barky old guard dogs - I don't think they believed me, though).
I did go to circuits on Friday. That was quite army - and nearly did for me. I did the easiest level, but still felt like death afterwards. Running up hills, doing chin ups and burpees...just feeling a little bit too much like the middle-aged matron that I am for that kind of punishment. I may go again at some point...or I may stick to trotting round camp listening to trance anthems and wishing I wasn't too old to go clubbing.
What have I actually been doing for the last three weeks? Taking people to karate lessons and school discos and helping out in school literacy classes and teaching 'used to' to talk about habitual actions in the past with ESOL students and recruiting new student volunteers for the gallery workshops and discovering root touch up to banish those pesky hairline greys, mostly. And drinking the odd can of cider.
All my lovely silk dresses are slowly mouldering in the wardrobe - can't remember the last time I went to a mess function, or even wore anything other than jeans and boots, for that matter. Sometimes I do hanker a bit after the life of wafting about in silk and jangly silver jewellery (don't wear that much either, these days - gets in the way when doing housework).
I had a bit of an awkward moment in school today. I went in to help support Twin 2 with literacy, and couldn't help but notice that the teacher was teaching something incorrectly. My inner Hermione Granger leapt out before I had the chance to stop it. The class teacher was just telling the assorted eight and nine year olds that one of the important language features of instructions is that they use the third person. Before I could stop myself, my hand shot up and I asked him if he didn't mean the second person. Once a smartypants, always a smartypants. I said I could be wrong (I wasn't) and apologised. He took it well, bless him. The materials he was using were incorrect - it wasn't really his fault. Still, oh deary me. All the teachers at that school will hate me if this gets out....