Diary of a Mummy Misfit #1 (27 page)

When we told her she calmly opened her ruck-sack and produced two hundred and eighty pounds.

“De cow leaves me viz about five hundred emergency house-keeping.  I use it for de petrol or stuff for de kids.  Now
she
vill have de job of getting it back from de udder mudders.  Ha, ha!  Leave it to Olga, I vill tell her tonight and enjoy to do dis ting very much!”

Vot a brave girl Olga! 

Fenella expressed her gratitude and made Olga assure her that she wouldn’t get into any trouble with Lydia.

Olga tutted and shook her head, “No vay.  I am far too valuable to dem.  Zey fall apart vizout me and anyvays, if she fire me I get new job somevere better.  I not stupid!”

Think Olga was quite looking forward to dropping the bombshell tonight - can’t say I’d be feeling quite so brave.

Mrs S emailed to say that she has signed up for a computer course at the local college.

‘I am very much thinking that this is the way of the future and I am not wanting to be left behind.  I will probably be oldest lady there with lots of hoodies and naughty boys but maybe I can teach them how to be good boys like my Pritesh.

PS: I got leisure panties for one pound seventy.  Pritesh forgot to tell me about postage so they will be costing me six pounds seventy but at least I won.’

PM

Ned not very happy tonight.  Talk of redundancies in the office and he says you can never assume it won’t be you.

“We’d be totally up the proverbial if anything happened to my job, Lib.  It just doesn’t bare thinking about.”

O.K, so I won’t think about it.  Went to bed and stuck my head under the duvet like an ostrich in the sand.   ‘Don’t think about it and it won’t happen’ is about to become my new motto.

Wednesday 24
^th
September  AM

Shitty morning.  Dropped Max off at school and got dragged into an impromptu Christmas fair meeting with Shaaaron and a few other committee members. Fenella had asked Josh to do the school drop off so I had to deal with them alone.

Left the school reeling with a list of ludicrous changes they
now
decide they want to make, only to find that I had a flat tyre.  Was just doing a John Cleese and giving the sodding thing a bloody good kicking when Colin-the-caretaker appeared at my side, “Now that’s not going to help much is it? Want me to change it for you?  I’ve got a few minutes.”

Was so grateful to him because I was desperate to get home and call Fenella with the updates - must buy him a bottle of something and drop off at school this afternoon.

PM

Got home after collecting Max, to a message from Colin saying he was absolutely stunned by my generosity (a bottle of whisky not even single malt).  In the six years he and Jenny have worked there no one has ever given them a token of their thanks - apart from a half empty bottle of wine shoved in a gift bag by an out-of- it-Prozac-mum at the end of term and a box of cheap candles.

Called Jenny straight back and we’ve arranged for them to come for dinner next week, as promised.

Settled down before bed to go through our ever-growing list - smoked another 6 cigarettes.

Quality of donated tombola goods is not to a high enough standard.  Must be checked on a daily basis and any ‘past sell by date’ or ‘undesirables’ can be saved for next Harvest Festival.

Oh, so it’s not good enough for us but it’s OK to poison the local pensioners with?

Must have a crèche set up in the nursery area manned by 3 nannies or au pairs - the committee will pay them £10 for their services.

Apart from having to cook all the pizzas and prepare bagels, they’re also expected to work (on what is probably their day off?) for less than the minimum wage.  Vonder vot Olga vill hev to say about dat?

Vintage clothes stall must be cancelled.  Too degrading.  Nobody wants to wear second hand clothes so will be a waste of profitable space.  Araminta has kindly recruited a friend who designs corsets and bustle skirts. (Prices from £275 upwards)

Poor Fenella now has the job of telling her own friend that she’s been refused a stall to sell her ‘rags’.  And,
silly me
, not realising that no one else wants to wear second hand clothes, despite their pedigree.

Recipe book to be completed at least a week prior to the fair so that we can start to take orders and judge print runs.

So far we have 5 recipes for the book.  One each from me, Fenella, Jenny, Sarah and Eva (our two eager helpers).  We’ve been met with total apathy by everyone else.  Must do reminder letter tomorrow and get things moving.

Had another ciggie and went to bed unable to sleep with all manner of things rushing through my head.  Dreamt I was sacked as fair organiser because I was caught leaving a piece of used chewing gum as a tombola contribution.  Fenella was left to do everything, wearing nothing but a bunny girl outfit with a
real
rabbit’s tail because fake fur wasn’t considered ‘de rigueur’.

Don’t think the nicotine is agreeing with me.

Thursday 25
^th
September

Mrs S back from her first computer class.  “Well, Libbybeta.  I was right.  I am very much the oldest person there but I quickly made friends with Skunk and Dean - such nice boys, really.  They have eleven tattoos and fifteen piercings between them, although I could only see nine.  They also showed me a place I can go to in my computer where I can watch any Barry Manilow ever recorded.”

Bet Skunk and Dean found it hard to contain their composure when they saw Barry strutting his stuff but I’m glad she’s enjoying herself and that her classmates seem to be so accepting.

Caught up with Elle on the phone - she’s feeling quite pregnant now and very sick.  Felt really sorry for her because she’s trying to remain as high powered as ever and finding it all a bit much.  Her man - Rob - sounds lovely and is begging her to stop work so that he can take care of her and the baby.  She won’t hear of it though and is determined to work to the bitter end and then return as quickly as possible. 

Never knew my sister came from the ‘other breed!’  Fenella reckons she’ll change her mind as soon as she’s had the baby but I’m not so sure.  We’ve got a hat bet riding on it and I really rather fancy the lime green silk jobbie I tried on last time - here’s hoping.

Had an email from Poo confirming all changes made at yesterday’s meeting.  She’d also added:

‘This morning, a jar of
Robinson’s
jam was left in the tombola box.  Although within its sell-by date, we would prefer only
Bon Maman
or such like.  The jam has been removed and placed in the store cupboard for the elderly.’

Sometimes wonder if they’re taking the piss.  Fenella assured me they’re not.  The jam has been quarantined because it’s considered to be common - but perfect for those who are too old or too grateful to know otherwise!

Called Ned at work to have a giggle about it but he wasn’t really in the mood - too preoccupied with culling rumours.

Head in sand, head in sand …

Friday 26
^th
September

Ned came home with a bottle of cheap bubbly - only one redundancy and that was old Jeremy who’s been hanging out for it for two years now.  Phew, head now out of sand until next time.

Had belated laugh about the jam fiasco and discussed what might be acceptable but reasonably priced for our contribution.

“We’ve got that foul liqueur your mother brought back from Magaluf.  That doesn’t have a sell-by date on it and if it’s not good enough for Manor House, I’m sure it’ll give the OAP’s a buzz!” Ned joked.  “Or I could always pick up a couple of fancy jars of mustard or something from Harrods on the way home one night.  Not
Colemans,
of course, that would just be too, too crass!”

“Do you ever wonder what kind of mad world we’ve moved into?” I asked as I poured us both another drink.

“Often,” Ned nodded.  “But I just content myself with knowing that Max is happy and we’re doing the right thing by him.  None of the other crap matters and we just have to take it on the chin and roll with it. We’re not the only ones to see the lunacy in it all so we just might be in the sane minority.”

Got told off then for lighting another cigarette.

“I know we can’t afford them but I just need them to get me through the stress of the fair and then I’ll give up again,” I defended myself.

“I know a much better cure for stress and tension, Libs.”

Had a much needed early night.

Ding dong! - all stress gone!

Saturday 27
^th
September

Mum phoned to ask what we wanted for Christmas!  Says she wants to be fully prepared and is doing all of her shopping online and making sure she leaves enough time for delivery.  Think three months should just about do it.

Tried to have a laugh with her about the tombola but don’t think she quite grasped it.  Four bottles of Yardley bubble bath and talc will be in the post this afternoon, as her contribution.  Oh well, the local oldies will at least smell good this Harvest Festival because you can guarantee that’s where they’ll end up.