sorry

Oh no, I've upset everyone and the fun police are out. I think my children and their friends have just caused too much hullaballoo at the swimming pool, and now apparently there is an email winging its way to Hubby's work computer telling us all that we can no longer have more than two guests in the pool, wear face paint, or wear see through swim suits. Most of these rules are, I suspect, down to me inviting friends round for a swim after school (although I'm not sure where the see-through swim suit thing comes in? Mine is a sensible matronly black - although the rebel in me now wants to go out and buy a white stringy thing, but I don't think it's fair on anyone to see any more of my dimpled flesh than they already do). Sorry, sorry, I have upset BGN. I can only apologise for having too many kids and for asking too many people over for a dip and for being generally lax and un-military about the whole pool-use thing. 

I am contrite (although secretly I want to get a gang of people over for a face-painting and skinny-dipping party, but I must put these subversive and frankly unsafe and unhygenic fantasies to one side for the sake of the greater good). Goodnight x

venting

Right, I just have to have a moan about this. I love living here, I really do, but I think even Mrs Patient from Patientsville would be a bit pissed of about this: I went to the post office this morning, to post something, natch. The post office on camp says it is open between 8.30 and 12, Monday -Friday, with a half hour tea break at 10. I went at quarter to nine today, and it was shut. When I asked around, I was told that the postie would be back from PT at around quarter past nine, and the post office would be open for about half an hour, as the whole camp is going on a museum trip this morning. 

You would be annoyed, wouldn't you? Tell me you would. Its not unreasonable to want to be able to post a letter during the post office's stated opening times, is it?

Yes, so the whole camp and his/her wife/husband are off to visit the ex-royal palace this morning. I decided not to go. It sounds quite interesting, but I can't face the bus trip and group photo thing. Hubby isn't going either. He says he has too much work to do.

Our boycotting of the museum trip has probably sealed our fate as being known as anti-social non-participating grumps, hey ho.

manic monday

Another monday, another band (general strike). Managed to get the kids to school, though; the police just waved us through. This band seems a bit lacklustre, certainly over this side of town - no tyre burning or anything. I sent Vasu home with the car, straight after school drop off, and I walked home after my very important trip to the spa (emergency reflexology). Lots of the little shops in side streets were open, they just had their shutters down, so I was still able to buy (almost more important than reflexology) strawberry and banana cornflakes.

Not quite sure how I'm going to get the kids home from school though, as Vasu has the afternoon off (yes, I know, he is always taking impromptu bits of time off at no notice and I did have to have stern words with him this morning, which made him look even more Kevin-the-teenager-ish than usual - the thing is, he is studying for a degree in business management, so he of all people should understand the concept of asking your manager for time off in advance. When I said, "Vasu, why am I paying for a driver and then paying for taxis as well?" his expression pretty much said, "Whatever". Pah! Students! Of course I was never like that when I was a student...). Anyway, unbeknown to him, he's on borrowed time, because Twin 2 will be able to use the school bus after the summer holidays, which pretty much makes him redundant, unless he pulls some 'added value' out of the bag, which I very much doubt.

Right, must get back to my irritating heroine, who does seem intent on snogging Mr Wrong, the silly bint!

he is necessary because I have no money

I learnt how to say: "I'm unhappy because my husband is short and weak, but he is necessary because I have no money" in Nepali. I think that will be a far more useful sentence than: "I like mangoes", which is about all I've managed so far.

Went to partners' club (one husband, forty wives) dinner last night. There was of course lots of smiling and telling people how nice they looked. I found someone who had brought her car, hurrah, and managed to sneak off after dinner, rather than going along to the disco. Good job I did as shortly after I got home, Twin 2 started to cough and have hideously high fever so I slept next to her bed to be on hand with damp flannel/cough medicine throughout the night. Turns out she has a bit of a chest infection, which is very good news so far as she's concerned as she gets to stay home and watch Disney films all day.

Of course I should be doing some writing - I've got to the bit where the protagonist is about to kiss the wrong man (stop! stop! I keep telling her; he's just a charming ne'er-do-well. But will she listen? Will she buggery! That's eighteen-year-olds for you...) - but I'm quite tired after my night on the Twins' floor so decided to do some very exciting internet shopping (for bread mix and yoghurt mix, since you ask) instead. Well it's either that or watch 'Ariel' for the zillionth time. And of course it means I have time to write to you, which is always a good thing xxx

Bangkok, oriental city

We're off to Bangkok (oriental city) in the summer. Don't think we'll be doing any chess playing though - apart from Son, perhaps, who is turning into a right old geek and beats us all at tigers and goats (except for last time, when he took pity on my uselessness and gave me some hot tips on how to trap his tigers, and then I won, hurrah, and what's more refused a re-match as it was past seven o'clock and thus bedtime, double hurrah). Hubby and I have both refused to teach him chess ourselves as we're just not up to the task, but he'll be joining the chess club at school after the holidays. It won't be long before he starts playing Dungeons and Dragons and writing his own software, I suspect. My prediction for him is a career in IT (unless Lego decide to take him on as a spaceship design consultant). 

Quite excited about the prospect of Bangkok. We're planning to get some kind of last minute deal on a suite in a posh hotel. Feel sorry for the poor hotel that ends up with us - it will take weeks for them to clear up every last Barbie shoe and Lego attachment after we've gone.

What I really ought to be doing right now is writing my book and doing my Nepali homework, but this blog is turning into an exercise in procrastination, soz.

Nepali lessons get scarier every week, as Hubby has turned into a right girly swot and practices all the time at work. I however, am too scared to attempt much with the disaffected youth who drives our car (Vasu), so I am the dunce in the corner, drawing stick men in my notebook and sneakily checking my watch.

Really must go now xxx

I have planter's fistula

I have Planter's fistula. Or something like that (the locum was Nepali and I may have misheard). It sounds very exciting, but merely means that my foot hurts. I wonder if it could be linked to the fat-busting shoes, which, I might add, have not lived up to their marketing claims one tiny bit. 

Wild excitement this week with the Partners' club farewell dinner planned for tomorrow night. I am just giddy with anticipation of the tasty tuck and scintillating conversation that the night has in store (my mother always said that sarcasm was the lowest form of wit - sorry, Mum). Ah well, at least I can tell lots of people about my Planter's fistula. Hubby is not interested, mainly because it will involve listening to me, and dishing out some sympathy, but also because it doesn't involve water treatment solutions or management strategies...

ps

ps - talking of fish...Son re-named the sole surviving goldfish 'Life' as it was the only one still alive. Sadly this turned out to be a bit of a misnomer as it died the next day. The goldfish bowl is now more of a gravel-and-shell-feature on the sideboard. If I were an interior designer (and not an aspiring tripe writer with the Fishy Express), I would recommend this in articles in glossy magazines: "Why not try putting an empty fish bowl on the sideboard in the dining room? Arrange the gravel and shells asymetrically around the plastic weed for a casual-yet-elegant feel. The bowl will not only give the room a focus, but provide a talking point at dinner parties (where are the fish? Oh, they're all dead; Life died yesterday so we flushed him down the loo - took three flushes as he kept getting stuck in the U-bend)...."