I became Vicky for a morning today. I wore a low cut blouse – just like her, and then hoped like hell that no one would notice that I am nowhere near as pretty as her and that my hair is crap. No one was fooled, strangely.
She had rung me last night, this time high on some herbal caffeine thing called Guarana. Vicky is one of my loveliest friends, but really, she doesn’t need to be hyped up. Anyhow – she was ringing to ask me to be her (Camp Mother) today at our cafe craft group, with the promise of free food and drink if I agreed, and also the promise that I wouldn’t have to teach anyone, which is good because I have found myself a tad impatient of late.
So I attempted to be her, and it was fine. Even easier than normal because its the start of the school holidays this week and most of the mother aged women stayed away. I successfully didn’t kill someone who insisted on trying to get me to teach her how to make a felt duck. And I had, once again, some bloody good conversations, including a fascinating one about shamanism. The only person I know who was into Shamanism, had to be buried, as if dead, for the night – he said it was a awesome experience and that I should try it – I was not convinced.
And to top it all I ate a plate of the most wonderful spinach risotto and drank a huge flat white. All in all a damn good morning.
Now I am getting ready to depart this house to catch a train. Looking forward to seeing my Mum and catching up on all the gossip. Mum is 83 and has been very ill over the last year and it has taken her a long time to heal. I love it that every time I go to see her she is just that little bit better and is now almost back to normal.
Hope you are all having a good day