By: Blonde Two

It is nearly the middle of the year – no, I don’t mean midsummer’s day and am going to leave you to puzzle that one out for yourself for a while.

Anyway, as we drove up and down the motorway from between Down-South and Up-North this weekend, I had plenty of time to contemplate the year so far.  I was trying to pick out some “Blonde Best Bits” (obviously we Blondes have some pretty impressive bits!)  You might be surprised by my final choice …

My favourite “Blonde Best Bit” so far was the end of our Silver D or E practice, Blonde One and I had just had three days of camping, fretting and walking with two groups of youngsters.  We were physically tired, grumpy with some of the kids and very, very  wet.  We had parked the car at the top of Newbridge Hill  and walked down to meet parents with the teams.  Despite my desperate hinting, none of the parents were able (or thought to) offer us a lift back up the hill so when everyone had gone, Blonde One and I were just left there, dripping in the empty car park.

It was an odd moment – I think we could both have cried.  Instead of turning round and walking straight back up the hill, we bought a cup of tea from the ice-cream van (as ever, we both had this thought at once) and sat down on a rock to contemplate our fate.

If there is one thing that Blonde One and I do really well, it is cheer each other up.  And after half a cup of good old English, we were laughing hysterically about the fact that we could have been warm at home like other, more normal, women of our age (we usually mention knitting at these moments).  This hysteria was helped by the fact that Newbridge car park was starting to do that flooding thing it does so well and we were sitting watching the water level creep up over our boots.

We must have been quiet a sight (not that anyone else was mad enough to be there) – two soaking wet woman, sitting in a puddle, clutching their sides with laughter.  Hot tea is good medicine but a giggle is even better and after our dose of both, we climbed the hill back up to the car quite merrily.  It would appear that a soaking wet Blonde is a happy Blonde!