By: Blonde Two

Hi there Blondees and Blondettes.  Today the Two Blondes had an interesting, if a bit draughty time yesterday in the hangars at the Ten Tor’s Managers’ briefing at Okehampton Camp.  I have stepped up, for this year, to be our Ten Tor’s manager and I have to confess that I am finding the whole “name-on-the-piece-of-paper” thing frankly rather terrifying.

I think I spent the whole day needing one of the nice army chaps who were giving briefing instructions to come over and tell me to pull myself together.  I know that, with a big portion of help from Blonde One and the rest of the team, I can do the job but there are so many things to worry (and worrying is Blonde One’s job not mine) about that I have lost count.

All of the other managers there looked as though they knew exactly what they were doing.  If they didn’t, they were hiding it well.  Every time those 3 “R” words “Rescue”, “River” and “Regulation” were mentioned, my stomach contracted into a tighter knot and I started planning for all sorts of ridiculous, never-going-to-happen emergencies in my head.  I don’t know if anyone else does that but it is a speciality of mine.  For example, I know exactly what I am going to do if I drive the car into a river, if I find a man unconscious in the woods and if I arrive at work having forgot to put my knickers on that morning!  Yesterday gave me a whole host of new unlikely to happen scenarios to plan for but I am doing my best not to think about them.

Blonde terror is a little bit like blind terror but has a certain element of hysterical giggling to it.  I think the giggling with Blonde One is the only thing that is keeping me from complete panic at the moment.  That and my new little Dartmoor Rescue fella – I shall keep him in my rucksack to remind me that (Devon forbid) should things actually go wrong, there will be help at hand.  I know that I will feel much better once we have had our first training expedition and will just have to practise my meditation techniques until then!