T-Bird Anni Rides Again

I am trying to set up a formula that looks at a date of birth, looks at today’s date and then tells you the age.  I’ve played in Word but think I’m going to end up in XL as Word doesn’t seem to play but I just don’t know where to start with this one!  I used to be really good at formulae in Office but that was a lifetime ago, when I was single, slimmer and could guarentee 8 hours uninterupted sleep at night!

I dunno really!  I got half of a mind map done, in between interuptions from cat, daughter and daughter’s friend.  I updated the waiting list for Rainbows but didn’t quite get round to phoning the 3 at the top of the list to invite them to start.  I did manage to remove the cover off the rubarb which I put over it ages ago when it started growing before the weather was done with being frosty and was greated with a lovely surprise - enough lovely juicy fat stalks to do stewed rubarb at teatime!  Somehow it tastes better when it’s come out of the garden and into the pan less than an hour before eating it.

Tomorrow I’m doing radios for a half marathon, assuming it’s not washed out.  Actually, washed out would be lovely but only if they decide NOW and not at 9am tomorrow by which time I will ahve crawled out of bed at 6:30 BST (that’s 5:30 by my body clock)and dragged my baby’s sad little body out of bed and into her carseat (and gone are the days I could do that without waking her!) in order to drive over an hour and be set up ready (including hoisting up a 20 foot aerial mast that the MOD gave up looking for in the 50s) before the briefing starts at 8am (the race starts at 10:30 - obviously this is going to be a very long briefing!)  ACtually, the whole thing is p***ing me off really.  I only found out I was expected to turn up a week ago and it was just assumed that I would turn up.  It is also assumed that my child will trail around and be thrilled to be couped up in a shack with a grumpy mummy who can’t play with her cos she is wired into a radio (well, okay, I’ll be wearing a headset with a fairly short cable because the speaker is duff on our set so I can’t leave the desk) and 2 grumpy old blokes running the radios for the organiser’s side of the event (why can’t they run the Red Cross freqency too i hear you ask?  No idea.) who don’t like chatting girls in their radio shack. It was also assumed that Duke would turn up and it cocked up their plans mightly when he told them taht he’s working so not available, and they only had a week to sort out a replacement.  I desperately wanted to say no but somehow didn’t quite manage.  Bad girl!  Weak girl!  Must, must, must learn how to say NO and mean it. 

So I do beleive that now I should go and crack open a bottle of wine and drown my sorrows.  It’s a small bottle so even I should be able to avoid nasty side effects in the morning but it’s the thought that counts.