Unless this is the first time you've read my Blog you will be quite used to my heights of stupidity and the daft things that go on in our lives at Camp Frog.
I am currently the Chairperson of the Friends association at my eldest daughters' lovely school. When I took the post on I tried to dissuade the committee because I felt I wasn't sensible enough, but here I am, voted in.
The first meeting I Chaired was very scary, I had no Agenda to refer to, just some previous minutes. I was glad to be able to draw on my improvisation techniques learnt in Drama at college.
I was asked to contact a Professor of Glaciology (is there such a thing?)to confirm the Lecture she will be giving at school. I felt a little concerned that no-one seemed to have actually ever spoken to her. Thank goodness for Google, I say. I found her, she's coming, I've even spoken to her, now comes the problem of what do you give a Professor of Glaciology as a Thank you gift? A scarf? Heck it's a tricky one.
Then there's the matter of our Ball. Our new Head desired a Ball in the marquee after Speech Day.
Hurrah! thought I.
Oh no! As Chairperson I have to organise it.(OHMYGOD!)
Not only that but I have to attend it!!
Darling Husband will have to come with me (no you can't wear your John Deere waistcoat)
Now I am a Frog with very little brain, and had no idea where on earth to start.
Cue the help of four fab ladies in the know, proper private school parents, ones who no doubt already own a number a ballgowns. I doubt my fuschia Hunter Wellies will cut it...even if I do scrub them clean!
We've had very civilised meetings in the Bursars office, and kept in touch via email.
I managed to email a fashion agent in BlackHeath instead of one of the lovely ladies to confirm a table booking, phew, could have been embaressing on the night.
The Head Chef has presented us with sample dishes for the Ball, all yummy, but one served in a peculiar way and I was not sure how to explain I wasn't happy with it.
Bursar "You think it looks like dog poo don't you?"
Me " Erm, yes, can't we have it served in ramekins?"
Next meeting we have a wine company coming in to let us taste their wares.
As Dulwich Mum would say, 'What a hoot!'.
My one relief is that I don't have to stand up and say anything at the Ball, I just can't let people know how daft I really am!
So, can anyone lend me a posh frock?
