Oh so many stories- choosing just one is hard. Shall I tell you about our Bronze expedition that had us eating freezing cold food and sitting on a cliff top chemical loo minus the tent? Or perhaps it was my silver with Air Cadet lasses who welcomed this chaotic and grief stricken Autist into their team, and with whom I fell in love with hill walking. Maybe my Gold expedition as an independent participant with a Naval officer and three public school choir boys? The expedition on which I learnt the value of reading the fauna when choosing a campsite. A useful skill on my lockdown 2020 holiday.
Maybe I will talk about my service- the First Aid certificate I have kept up, or the Brownie unit wasn't much use to, or the independent children's club who I thought I was helping. When here we are, thirty years later and the lessons those incredibly disadvantaged children taught me are ones I use every day. They made me a better person; a better parent; a fabulous tutor. There are people who owe their lives to those lessons and those children I learnt to respect.
It won't be the physical section. Let's be honest, D of E did little to change my intense dislike of sport. What it did do is teach me that I can do things I dislike and it isn't such a big deal.
My skills activities varied from corn dollie making to plumbing a bathroom. One lead to finding pleasure in vernacular crafts and stories. The other has lead to major self build. I can't remember what I did for my silver - I guess it was as too easy.
Even my residential is full of happy memories with an organisation I rejoined when funds permitted.
One way or another, my D of E Award activities, the people I met, the conversations continue to influence my daily life.
As you have no doubt realised, my journey from Bronze to Gold was chaotic and often adjusted thanks to the many changes in lifestyle.
For that and so much else, I thank Prince Phillip and all the amazing volunteers who facilitated my participation.