I am starting to lose track of which day it is, which is disappointing; part of the problem is that I've stopped writing what I'm doing each day in my diary, which means that I can't think to myself "I'm in House today, so it must be Wednesday". Instead, all I know is that I am definitely in House, and the question of what day it is has to be discarded in favour of easier questions, such as "how much GH31 detergent do I put in with a wash that is roughly 5/8 full, and therefore right in the middle of a half load and a 3/4 load?" (the answer, by the way, depends on what you are washing. Kitchen articles, for example, take more than Pinks!) And to make matters even worse, I am going to have to start paying attention to what day it is quite soon!
For example, Kat is coming on Friday this week, and staying until Tuesday- or Wednesday, I can't remember. This means that I need to know when Friday is, and when Tuesday or Wednesday are, and not get them in the wrong order and drop Kat off at the station before I've picked her up (or not picked her up, if I get Friday wrong too). Still with me? Good, because the Wednesday before Kat is here we have a General Staff Meeting, which means I not only have to know which day that Wednesday is, but also not confuse it with the next Wednesday and leave Kat on her own while I go to a meeting that happened the week before (assuming that she is even here on that Wednesday and that it wasn't the Tuesday which she was supposed to go). Also, on the Sunday that she is here, we have Staff Evaluations so I need to remember which day Sunday is. So, that's (maybe) two Wednesdays, a Tuesday (maybe), a Friday and a Sunday. Oh and then the Thursday after Kat's gone it's Staff Day Out... or was the Wednesday? No it might be Wednesday, in which case Kat definitely goes on Tuesday... or if she is really going on Wednesday then I've made a right hash of organising things! Then on the Friday after Kat leaves we are deep cleaning the staffroom, so I need to get Friday right or Miguel will get very upset when I try and vacuum his bed when he's still in it. Thankfully I can distinguish between morning and afternoon still, so it's actually unlikely that I'll vacuum Miguel's bed while he's still in it; more likely I'll have stolen all his bedlinen before he goes to bed on the wrong day.
Anyway, sorry for that long and confusing paragraph. I am quite tired from my journey to Our Chalet today. For the uninitiated among you, Our Chalet is an international centre for the World Association of Girl Guides and Girl Scouts (or WAGGGS, rather amusingly). It's essentially the same as KISC, I hear, but a bit smaller and rather prettier on the inside. I had a day off and an invitation from the maintenance guy over there, so I hiked over Bunderspitz and down to Adelboden, and amongst the plethora of chalets dotted around I finally found the one with a giant trefoil on it. Walking up, I was greeted by a rather friendly looking ginger cat, and I suppose it was my fault for picking it up but it still bit me, which I thought was unwelcoming to say the least. Setting aside whatever doubts I had germinating in the soil of my soul, however, I pressed on up to the chalet proper. A car was just pulling out as I got there, but there was still a car and a van left so I reasoned that there would be at least one person around. It is the quiet season after all, and the website said that they were renovating, but I figured that there must be someone around to feed the cat (or maybe not, which would explain the little horror from down the drive)
However, there was nobody there. The place seemed deserted. I knocked on a few doors, and peered in through a few windows, but nothing. It was like they'd seen a smelly boy coming up the drive, set the cat on me and all gone and hidden in the basement. I even rang the phone, to see if that could galvanise someone out of a cupboard of wherever they were hiding, but instead I just stared at the phone in the reception, three feet away from me, which stared back at me as it rung, and smugly remained unanswered. I sat down on a bench, hoping that the person who had driven off had just gone to the shops for a newspaper or something, and as I sat there two things happened: firstly, I remembered that Kristoff, who had invited me over in the first place, was on holiday and so not in. Secondly, another cat came and sat next to me. And then promptly started clawing at the bench. Understandably, I was a tad nervous. However, I didn't seem to be in immediate danger so I continued to sit there, refusing to be cowed by the threat of being shredded like a chicken. Understanding this, and obviously wishing to push the envelope a little further, the cat took an interest in my sandwich. It almost climbed into my lap to get to the sandwich, and when I gave it a corner of said sandwich it immediately ate the ham and cheese, and then left the bread! Speaking of sandwiches, have they always been spelt without the 'h' after the 'w'? Really? When did I start making that spelling mistake?!
Giving up on Our chalet as a bad job, I had to get the bus back home. At this stage I realised that I had no cash. This meant that I had to go all the way over to Adelboden to find a cash machine. Interestingly, it turns out that when they say that Our Chalet is in Adelboden, what they mean is that it's on the other side of a little valley and the village itself is set all the way up the hill, and the genius who designed the place thought that the best place for the cash machine was right at the top. So I missed my bus, and to be fair it could have been worse, but remember that I was still bearing a nasty cat bite and the disappointment of no girl guides to show me round their stupid centre, so it was a crushing end to the day! The hike itself was lovely, though; perfect weather, and no blisters which is always a bonus!
Anyway, I need to do some captions on the Facebook photos from my time here, so I guess that's all for now! And who knows, by the next blog post I might be a Pinkie no longer...
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