By: Blonde Two

I am getting increasingly concerned about the amount of maths that has recently been creeping into the world of Blonde.  For a start, Blonde One has been challenged to learn some maths by our Gold DofE team.  Yes, you are right to gasp, this is she who has very recently claimed to have an allergy to numbers.  Although the team appear to have got the level completely wrong (something weird and algorithmic called “decision maths”), they have got Blonde One completely right in that they know full well that she will never say “no” to a challenge.

Now, out of the Two Blondes, I am actually the better maths qualified.  A very long time ago, after some big telling off and visits for my parents with the head of sixth form, I managed to scrape a pure maths and statistics A Level.  I seem to have lost my maths head though and am fairly convinced that the obvious answer to any suggestion of “decision maths” is to make the decision not to attempt it.

I looked “decision maths” up to try and work out why on earth Blonde One might need to learn it.  There is something about crossing seven bridges which kind of makes sense for expeditions.  Although on Dartmoor, if there isn’t a bridge, and if you are Blonde One, you just drag your hesitant Blonde companion across the nearest jumpable bit of river.  She wouldn’t need maths for that, just a rather stern face.

The next, vaguely useful thing I found was “shortest paths” – again, that makes sense out on the moors but we all know that the Two Blondes are forever roaming off the “shortest paths” in search of map based treasures like holes in the floor.  I think we would be even later home than usual if we tried to do maths about it.  I gave up looking at decision maths after “critiical path analysis” (I always think there is a reason that the word analysis is spelt like that – something to do with the people who do it).  “Critical paths” seem obvious to me – they have a start, an end, not too many bogs and a pub somewhere along the way.  I think Blonde One will be fine with that one!

Getting away from all of this posh maths and back to some more normal calculations.  I bet you can do this one better than I did this afternoon!

Two minibuses (17 seats each), 21 wriggling youngsters, 4 tired adults.  One bus is found to be missing a wing mirror and is thus designated “unsafe”.  In my head, this was fine because we could replace one 17 seater bus with one 5 seater Blonde Mobile. It took me about six hours, a glass of rose and some very good pasta to realise that 21+4 in no way equals 17+5 (not even in Blonde Land does this work).

It looks like I am going to have to drive again and we all know what happened last time I tried to do that (a sad tale of getting lost in Buckfastleigh).  I think I am going to leave all maths, “decision” or “minibus” to Blonde One from now on!