Hiya, well the end of the month is imminent, so I thought I'd better get another one in, especially as I have news...ooh, what news?
Well, only that I'm not going to be an army wife for very much longer.
No, I'm not leaving my husband to run off with the slightly-plump-but-very-cheery-and-firm-of-calf postman. My husband, who has been in the army for a whopping (yes, I'm going a bit tabloid-speak on you, but the content seems to merit it) 31 years has only gone and found himself a normal job. No more zipping off to war zones at the drop of a weapon. Nope. Which means, obviously, that I won't be an army wife any more. Unless I very quickly divorce him and have an affair with one of the random soldiers I see running up and down the hill on a Tuesday or Thursday morning (not that I look, heaven forfend, I'm a middle-aged married woman, don't you know!).
It's sixteen and a half years since that morning with the hangover and the borrowed suit in the local registry office.
Sixteen and a half years since I thought "Good Lord, what have I done? I've sentenced myself to a life of gel nails, bingo and obsessing about cleaning products!"
Anyway, I haven't quite succumbed to the delights of Mecca Wednesdays, nail art and Mr Muscle, although I do actually hoover the house these days (well, Bertha the robot does), which is an improvement on 16 years ago.
My husband has decided to shake off his military shackles by becoming a water-gypsy. He's in the process of buying a narrow boat. I hope they throw in a pipe, bandana and mandolin as part of the deal. The plan is to call the boat SS Vengeange and get a cat called Admiral Marcus (apparently you will understand this if you are a Star Trek fan). I'm not, however, going to transfer from army wife to water gypsy wife, as the kids and I will be staying dry in a very boring house in suburbia - because it's near to a 'good' school.
Anyway, thought I'd let you know. Exciting, huh? xx