By: Blonde Two

By Blonde Two

As you Blondees and Blondettes know, Blonde One and I are the perfect partnership because we each play our own distinct roles in the World-of-Blonde:

  • I cook, she eats.
  • She walks in front, I try to keep up.
  • She makes the plans, I organise the kitchen.
  • I laugh, she cries.
  • She cries, I laugh.
  • I make fires, she sorts out routes.
  • She drinks coffee, I drink tea.
  • I give out Jelly Babies, she drives.

It all works out very well; but it is good for us both, every now and again, to have a go at doing the other Blonde’s thing. You have heard already about Blonde One’s attempt at ‘cooking’ gravy, and my attempt to drive somewhere and actually arrive there. Well, in the last week or so, I have had occasion to drive down off Dartmoor on my own! Even worse than that! I have had occasion to drive down off Dartmoor on my own, in the dark!

The strange thing is that both times, I have really, really enjoyed it. There is something very girl-affirming about driving around a very dark place, in either a natty sports car or a macho truck. I enjoyed it so much, that both times, I stopped in very dark car parks to sit and absorb what I was doing. When there is nobody else up there, you get the feeling that Dartmoor, because you know it so well, is actually yours; it belongs to you because you have named that odd tor, because you remember the adder under that cattle grid, because you naturally avoid the puddle that once splashed your fellow Blonde and because you can see your Christmas tree even in the dark.

I like it the very best when Blonde One drives and I navigate/watch her left/organise the Jelly Babies; but I think I will go driving across Dartmoor in the dark again soon. It doesn’t scare me because I understand that if the vehicle broke, and I had to walk home, I would know the way … because I am Blonde!