Day 14 Week 3

Apparently, according to my stars I've got to energise and lead. Truth is I'd rather be energised and led.

Received an e-mail from C, here it is

'Hey ma, Thanks very much for the number, will give them a ring as soon as I can about that.Bayliffs?!? Bloody hell! How much money are they demanding? Tell them to do one!TBH Its been so long since Ive had to deal with Den that I cant remember... The only place I can think It would be is in the car itself? If not I havent got a clue! Almost certain I got her SORNed though... But as I say, was a while ago now!Just to let you know things are going fine with me here, bin out and about a fair bit, the temperature is noticably dropping as time goes on. How are you doing en angleterre?? All well after the op? Hope so. Have tried to give H a buzz a few times so when you speak to him tell him Im doing fine. Same to mou as I havent spoken to her in a while. Lots of love, Keep me informed about the bayliffs saga! x'

So looks like Swansea hasn't made a mistake afterall.

Lusty back in home waters so H able to ring home last night. He's exhausted but apparently playing war games in the middle of the Atlantic with 10 other navies is good fun. He's had a stint at being a Warfare Officer and loved every minute of it which is fortunate because if everything goes to plan that's what he wants to do - on submarines. Why?

It wasn't supposed to be like this. I was always a left-wing activists who thought the definition of a brilliant day out was hours spent freezing in a demonstration against western imperialist tyranny, singing 'we will not be moved', whilst eating a mung-bean casserole. Boyfriends had to have hair longer than mine and perish the thought they would wash or have more than one pair of jeans - too much ownership of anything was a sinister sign of capitalist exploitation. The thought of voting for anything other that the Labour party was akin to treason and one of the worst rows I ever had with my then husband was over the validation of the Falklands war and the sinking of the Belgrano. When my friend and I turned up (ironcally in something called an 'Afghan' which was a stinking coat made from goat's skin and boy you didn't want to be anywhere near it if it rained) to hear Jim Callaghan speak in our local church hall during the 1970s, we burst with pride as the policeman said 'so here's the troublecausers'.

A friend recently said to me 'as a former kaftan wearing CND supporter what does it feel like to have one son running around with a machine gun and the other with his finger on the trigger of nuclear annihalation?'. I think it's called irony.

If you want to make God laugh - make plans.

Have a good day

Speak soon. A soldier's Mum x