Life really likes to be mean at times. Just when our finances are tightest, I need to get a new phone. My current one is an oldie from Hairy and it’s really giving up the ghost. It’s not even worth going into details of its tiny memory when it won’t receive phone calls. I’ve just started on a spate of job hunting, and how am I supposed to be successful if I’m not contactable by the number on my CV? Huzzah! Or not.
So here I am, hunting for a second hand phone so that I can at least get phone calls because I can’t afford to miss out on job offers or any wedding related shenanigans because I can’t pick up if someone tries to phone.
And the rest of the title that so effectively drew you in? Well. Guiding is a dangerous hobby; it lures you in and when your guard is down it bites you on the knee. Literally in my case – on Monday we took our little goblins up to Common Lane which is just a lot of open land and woods where we can build fires and run around. We played an awesome wide game called the Vanishing Postbox and I got to be the postbox.
To play you need:
- Three older girls (or younger leaders willing to run)
- A horde of young children
- A plastic bag.
- Space to run and hide.
The girls get divided into teams and given a colour. The three older girls go off into the woods – one has the paper, one has the pens and the last is the postbox with the bag. The aim of the game is to get the most messages in the postbox, but it’s not that easy. You need to visit each of the people in turn – collect paper, take it to pen person and write your team name on it and then to the postbox to deliver your mail. Even more tricksy is the fact that each of those people is moving all the time and likely to peg it if they’re seen. I know, I have the nettle stings from legging it down a muddy path from a group of hollering children.
That bit was the easy bit. The bit that sucks and is sticking with me comes from sitting still and hiding – super effective, but unfortunately meant I was easy prey for mosquitoes and other nasty biting bugs. Weirdly enough, they’ve only bitten my knees and the side of my little finger. I am not a happy bunny.
And finally, bladder control. I never realised but when you work in retail, you need to be able to hold on like a trooper. Yesterday I was alone for 2 hours on my floor – couldn’t pop to the loo as it’s up two flights of stairs and customers get grumpy if you aren’t around to harass. Later, after lunch I was okay to pop upstairs as there were other people on the floor. I told my colleague I was going to the loo – no such luck. I was collared by a customer. I deal with said customer, and turn to leave. Two strides across the floor and I’m grabbed again. Twenty minutes later, I’m finally free to go to the toilet.
Bladder control. It’s important guys.