You may remember an earlier post, How to confuse the Chartered Institute of Public Relations. Seems they really *did* get confused; got a phone call today asking why we hadn’t sent in a picture and 1,000-word summary for ‘Lines of Enquiry’. The answer being that I got an email saying that we weren’t short-listed.

Turns out that we had been after all.

Black-tie dinner on Weds 5 November at the Queens Hotel to look forward to again (if I’m allowed to go – it wasn’t really my event, after all).


Not having the car, and needing to pick up the phone that Orange insist I get with my new contact, even though I’m never going to use it (unless something really horrible happens to my N95), I went for a walk today to the parcel depot.

It’s one of the many I’ve been to over the last few years; up near the John Charles Centre for Sport and, co-incidentally, around the corner from 168 (City of Leeds) Squadron.

By my watch, it took me less time to get there than it does to drive to Huddersfield. Bizzare.

The European Union flag.
Me. In a Tornado. Are they mad?

Camp tomorrow! My first-ever Summer Camp, this one’s at RAF Marham. I have no idea what to expect, though the two tame Squadron Leaders of my acquaintance have done their best to scare me.

I won’t be able to make any posts form there though, it sounds like a bit of an IT wilderness! Not even sure if I’ll get a mobile phone signal.