Just call me Brown Owl!

If you’d have told me three weeks ago that in the near future I would go to a wine, cheese and quiz night at the local village hall and end up practically volunteering myself as a Brownies and Guides ‘Leader’, I would’ve branded you stark raving mad. Yet here I am, the morning after the night before (I was driving, so unfortunately can’t blame the booze), wondering how this could have happened.

To retrace my steps and revert back to the cause, Fraser’s Aunt invited me along to the evening last week. Although quiz nights at village halls aren’t exactly my idea of a ‘good night out’ – back down South, a ‘good night out’ would suggest something entirely different, usually involving vast quantities of alcohol – I felt I should go. Actually, this one turned out to be quite fun. The quiz was well put together (admittedly I felt like a bit of a dunce when the section on ‘Scottish History’ came up, but was quite good on ‘flower anagrams’), and there was a raffle. I won precisely nothing, although wasn’t too bothered, since the most exciting prize in there was an assortment of jelly sweets.   

So I must admit that the night was a good laugh; that is until I caught myself semi-agreeing to ‘help out’ at Guides and Brownies on a Wednesday night. Apparently, as a ‘Leader’, you get to accompany them on camping trips, and supposedly: “I look like the sort who would enjoy it”. Not sure whether that’s a complement? I would even earn my own ‘camping badge’ if I played my cards right! In knowing this sort of thing isn’t really my cup of tea I should have smiled and politely declined. Unfortunately I find it impossible to say “no” and before long I was offering the kind of fob off that won’t wash forever: “terribly busy moving in, etc, but let me call you in a few weeks”. So, in the months to come, you might well be calling me ‘Brown Owl’, or something similar. Oh how the times change!