I don't think that our worlds could be further apart right now. Hagar is hot, dusty in the darkness of battle and I am just about keeping my head above water in the wetness of summer.
I feel like a hamster in a wheel. I am clinging onto control in a tug of war between chaos and order. Two weeks ago I entered a new phase and this hopefully will continue for the rest of the next quarter of the year from September to December. It's about stretching my writing and taking me into new territories that hopefully will result in global domination but also giving me time to raise my children as well. Time and space to fulfill all my obligations to all.
So much newness - I can only say so much - but I can say this. I have a new literary agent. He is great. He loves my writing and he thinks that I have a fresh voice. He is talented, perfectly connected and one of our favourite books is The L-Shaped Room by Lynne Reid Banks.
I have a new editor who is going to be my guide and gauge my candid content to help me navigate through the treacherous waters of my truth and make sure that I don't give too much of myself away. Behind the scenes in slow time we are working on a two book proposal to reveal my life behind the wire. I really wasn't cut out to be an RAF wife. I like my freedom too much. Freedom of thought, freedom of adventure and freedom of speech.The proposal won't be ready until the autumn as I have too much to do on other projects. But if you happen to be a publisher and you happen to want first dibs on the bids of my kiss and tell about my domestic imprisonment and slavery to the MOD then;
please, email me: email@example.com
and I'll hand you over to my agent - let the bidding commence.
As I am universally loathed by many in the MOD community and I am sure there will be lots of harumphing and disgruntled tutting so let me be very clear from the outset. This will be MY experience of my decade of marriage to the military. I am not the voice of the community. Watch this space.....
Before I begin my tome I am also back in the land of spectre writing and I am working on a super secret, very exciting, international project that will make a positive contribution to the world. I am thrilled and excited to be involved. But I can't say anymore about it.
I have been so behind on the toy testing that nearly caught up yesterday and completed seven reviews on the Facebook Toys R Us toy box app.
Baby Alive - My First Luv N Snuggle Doll
Handz On - Drawing table
Pumpaloons - blowing up inflatables games
Bubble Burster Game - popping bubbles
Power Rangers Samurai
FyrFlyz - cool spinny thingy
Melissa & Doug Jumbo Colouring Pad Princess and Fairy
Duties, duties, duties and so I am also in a month's time about to be a bridesmaid at my best uni chum's wedding over in the East of the UK. The flat bit with piggies that I have never visited before. I have been a rubbish bridesmaid so far and so now I have to step up to the plate. She has asked me to give a sort of 'best woman's ' speech, which I am very excited about. Fortunately, my little pockets sized chum (she is a bijou friend) and I have many drunken and embarrassing tales to regale so I am not short of material. I have decided however, that I must park my cynical - "Noooooooooo, don't do it........don't get married......it's a prison sentence......don't be lured by the frock and shoes......it's a trap" attitude and embrace the moment with optimism and hope.
We did enjoy a fab hen weekend in London town, which included lunch at Nobu. I had the Bento Box - it was divine. We then had cocktails in a 1930s speakeasy private members club called Milk & Honey. Followed by Karoake at Little Voice where we bounced around mentally like multi-aged, multi-coloured , young and middle aged atoms and drank Prosecco. After two hours we rolled out of Little Voice and attended Punk, where I danced for hours. The next day, hungover, I scoured the internet for hours looking at many different purple shoes, amazed at the vast array of purpleness that was wholly unsuited to the purpleness of my very nice frock of maid of bride variety.
Yesterday, I had the single bed challenge. I had purchased a great Laura Ashley bed from a neighbour who was moving. It was just what I needed for The Menace, aged 3, who has grown out of her toddler bed. It has another bed underneath presenting a range of sleeping options for a variety of occasions. But I needed to get the bed from my neighbours house to mine - down her stairs, half a mile down the road and up my stairs. With little planning and no co-ordination, a friend's big car - me, myself and I, and another milly wife managed to execute the whole operation seemlessly!! Girl Power.
Meanwhile back in Afghanistan there was an eerie silence echoing over the Internet superhighway. Hagar was very busy. Busier than usually. It's hard with the Chinook crash so recently passed to not face the reality of war. In the silence, I lie awake late night, fretting about the silence and what it means. The insane irrational me wonders how they would tell me that Hagar had been killed. Who would it be? Would it be someone I know? One of our mutual friends? I have known his boss for almost as long as him. Or would it be the station commander who looks like Mike Yarwood? If it was him - would I be able to hear the news without being amazed about how much he resembles Mike Yarwood. Then in the day I constantly look out of the window and think every car is one of them coming to break the news of his death. Eventually, the Internet silence breaks. I receive an email from Hagar. Op Minimise was in place and someone else was receiving the news that their loved one had been killed. 'It seems at the moment someone is dying every day' he writes. And the battle continues on....
Follow Clare Macnaughton on Twitter: www.twitter.com/amodmilitarymum