Apart from the tears, the tantrums, the Brownies who were either bestest-friends-forever or Never-going-to-speak-to-each-other-again turn and turn about once an hour, the Brownies who needed collecting by Mum (actually, that was fine. She made the biggest, most impressive, bravest effort to stay, but just could not manage it: she joined in everything but staying overnight was Too Much This Time), it was actually quite fun. Well. Apart from the cleanup at the end, with Miss Hitler the Warden insisting that Sepha scrub the carpet and that I clean months-old-grime from the cooker, and the two old dears who were visiting tutting over our leftover food (although they had the grace to a. take some of it off our hands and b. give us a donation for it. Miss Hitler only took food off our hands).
Brownies are very funny with slugs. Rainbow Owl is even funnier: we put mealworms out, in a dog food tray, with water, for the hedgehogs to eat. The slugs set up a hottub with the mealworms, and produced some babies. Just like Big Brother, really! Brownies are very good at sucking up slugs through pooters. They also like looking at toads (there was a lift-up hatch to peer under, and a toad, and poor Mr. Toad moved out after the first day's worth of peeping. I think he had a headache). Brownies have appalling table manners, and can't manage to sit at the table for more than five minutes without trying to get up to go to the loo, turn round, play clapping singing games, juggle jelly (or jello, if you're American), tilt their chairs, or generally wander off to have a peer at the notice board. I put a moratorium on trips to the loo during one meal. This improved matters. Also improved were the table manners of the Brownie who started the weekened with her nose in her food (literally), and by the end of the weekend was sitting up and taking the food to her mouth rather than vice versa, even if not chewing with her mouth shut. I believe that the Children of London Town are not lucky enough to sit down and eat en famile.
Brownies do not sleep when you want them to. A new record: asleep (finally) at 1.45 am on the first night, and the first stirrings and thumps and bumps at 5 am, as the sun came up (why there were skylights in the dormitories, sans blinds, I do not know). They demand naps during the day, but still do not settle to sleep at night. Unless you sit there, in the room, until you hear 80% snoring. They tend to try and sleep 3 to a bed, which generally results in one of them falling out, and one of them sitting up to announce that they "can't get to sleep", not realising that Brown Owl is a mere two feet away, on a chair. Five minute later, that one was snoring happily. I think they're all adenoidal. Some Brownies can sleep through bombs. Others have very interesting dreams. I think it involved a dead zombie with which she lived for 21 centuries. And Daleks. Methinks she watches too much Dr. Who.
Brownies are not good at chopping, but do eat cucumber by the bucketload (why I had 7 left was beyond me. Dad took two, I gave another 2 to my downstairs neighbours, along with 6 pints of frozen milk, and I have 3 left to share with my flatmate). They are not sure about eggy bread, they fight over chocolate spread (never again), and ignored all the cereal. They will eat everything they are not allowed to eat at home (jelly, chocolate spread, sugar on their cereal, gallons of squash, tons of ice cream). They will not eat what they said they liked. They sigh over the 'cost of things nowadays' when told that food for 40 over 4 nights costs about £500. They are not good with spices, and do not believe that cheese reduces the spicey burn, until they try it. There is always one more vegetarian than expected. They like home-made biscuits...and do not notice that the custard creams are wheat free (but do mention that they're terrifically crumbly. However, asking for a plate is beyond them). They will walk and eat and drink simultaneously, regardless of how many times they are told to sit down....
Really, they're not terribly good at sitting, are they?
They enjoy singing: and will sing 'Alive, Alert, Awake, Enthusiastic!' at 7 am without prompting. Long may it last. They love clapping games, and love it even more if you're co-ordinated enough to join in: I learnt a lovely new one which was a variation on Mallet's Mallet (using names). They dance, and sing, and do ballet, and know all the words and the moves to Grease. They surprise you with the vibrancy of their colouring in, are incapable of cutting in straight lines, and make Much Mess With Glue. They decorate picture frames with pasta in unimaginable combinations, they nearly learn to sew, they love glitter (the only advantage of carpet is that you can hoover it up - it is the very devil to remove from lino). They marble paper and make flying Pigwigeons and adore imaginary games. They might burst into tears, but they can be jollied out if it, particularly if you try looking for a Brownie Smile in your pocket. Or their pocket. They learn how to use their inhalers properly, so the medicine has a chance to go inside and wriggle into all the corners of your lungs. Magic Frozen Peas cure all ills. They love to have Oscars for Making an Effort and Best Cooking Helper and Best Improvement in Table Manners and things of that ilk - and they like it when you are very, very silly....or a ballerina.
And, even the one who was very upset with me for calling her on tarradiddles (and who made a Very Good Effort to stop telling lies towards the end of the weekend - it's hard to believe someone when you catch her out several times in two days and I told her so), seems to have enjoyed herself. I've just had a text.
"Jane, I wld just like 2 say thanku on behalf of M 4 giving her a geat pack hol, she enjoyed it immensely."
What can I say, but (and I'm getting all teary yet again) My Pleasure?
xxx
Toothpick. He shot in, put the detector up, picked up some Guide badges for his outfit for School Disco tonight, and shot out again....
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