Vikki Philp

Hugo, Charlie (6 years old) and Georgia (3 years old)

Charlie and Vikki

Georgia (3 years old)

-Where are you now?
5 minutes drive from Stonehenge, England (World Heritage Site and magnet to long bearded druids at solstice time) for the moment. We move. A lot. 6 times in the past 5 years,to give you an idea.

-List household members:
Hugo: husband of 11 years, who will celebrate his 40th birthday 9 months before me. Officer in the British Army. A charming tall, dark quintessential English man. My rock and lifelong partner.
Charlie: our son, 6 years old. Tall red head (there are recessive genes on both sides) who is passionate about Power Rangers, all things to do with mermaids, butterflies and drawing. Plays rugby for Salisbury Under 7's and does tricks on his scooter.
Georgia: our daughter, 3 years old. Has the pretty curly hair I always wanted... Worships her brother and has been known to draw blood in his honour. Loves animals, speaks with a cute lisp and calls Stonehenge 'Honestenge' and Salisbury Cathedral 'Strawberry Cathedral'.
Tara: 2 1/2 year old Irish Setter Bitch. Cunning, likes gardening especially pruning.
Fergus: 2 year old Irish Setter Dog. Mate for Tara chosen in a moment of delusion when I thought breeding might be a jolly idea. Actually a pheasant in dog clothes... For those not versed in the species, pheasants are virtually brainless.

-What do you do all day? If you're a serial career hopper, list your stops:
I look after the needs of all household members (see above). Having indulged in city life to the full, leaving little space for domesticity I am rather enjoying discovering the pleasures of cooking, gardening, nurturing and playing like a kid - things I am ashamed to admit I scoffed at in the past.

- The last 20 years in 100 words, or less, or more... No-one's going to count.
Spent a terrifying number of months utterly directionless after leaving school (who else was told they could do virtually anything when discussing the results of those psychometric tests with the counsellor???), before doing a seccie course at the behest of mother and then deciding to 'travel'. (The 'travel' bit sounded terribly sophisticated...) First stop Paris for a year as an au pair. (Boy did I learn the meaning of hard graft then). Next stop London where city career began as a Bloodstock (race horse) insurance broker. Fab job but poor pay led to a switch to banking 4 years later. Four years at a derivatives house were followed by the balance of my cash earning years at Goldman Sachs (US Investment Bank). I met Hugo just before the career switch and we married two years later. Together we have travelled lots (and moved lots). After trying the 'working mum' mantle (very unsuccesfully - there simply wasn't enough of me to go around) for a year we decided to ditch the ridiculous mortgage, sell up and move into military accomodation. We bought a house in Wiltshire which we have spent one night in - I was damned if the tennants were going to christen all the newness we installed! Hugo's job changes every 2 years... allegedly... and has taken him away for two 6 month stretches during our married years. With Tony Blair offering assitance at the drop of a hat, I suspect a trip to the desert is imminent. When continuity of education becomes an issue for the children we will consider putting some roots down and enter into the commuting game. But we are kept on our toes which isn't such a bad thing, and there is a lot to be said for rationalising one's belongings every two years!

- Any shining moments from The School Years?
You find a school with a better setting. Science lessons (all those previous years worth of experiments sitting on the side and Mrs Thorburn demonstrating the difference between the atomic makeup of air, water and something solid (Nadia Dhansay's head) by brandishing a ruler), sunning ourselves on the hockey field, Billy Joel in the boarding house, Miss Watson's wake up techniques, rock buns at tea time, playing imaginary cricket in the corridor during post-lights out punishments, toast in the Matric common room, early morning swimming training (I seem to remember having a fry up on a camping stove behind the changing rooms after training one morning).

- Any less than-than-shining?
Matric Dance dress. Who doesn't remember that abomination of yellow fabric with gold thread? I know, I know... It was the 80's but I think there is a limit to how much you can blame on that fashion era... Grey dehydrated scrambled egg at breakfast, the priviledge scarves (???!!??), Miss Dreyer's cough, Mr Plampin jiggling coins in his pocket...

- Did you stay in touch with anyone? Who?
Ali Christie (the brilliance behind this blog), Sam Acland (bumped into her quite by chance on Sloane Square in our early twenties - been close ever since) and Jeanine Fick (reconnected as a result of this blog and she has susequently been to visit).

- With the benefit of 20 years hindsight, did St Cyprians prepare you for life?
I originally thought so, but on reflection I dont think the school was in a very good place during our final years. I certainly got away with not doing a stitch of work and set off into the world with a shockingly mediocre set of results and feeling very ill equipped. We were politically protected and lived in a little bubble that was not reflective of the society we lived in at the time. The confines of that bubble gave us the opportunity to live in a politically non-judgmental environment, which probably made us more open minded in the long run, but I think there were so many life lessons missing from our education. Of course education is an ever changing subject and each generation kicks up a whole host of ideas for the next, but the forum of school would have been the ideal place to pass on a little more than Pythagoras' theorum and the timelines of the Boer War.... I dont doubt that the opportunity to indulge in extra curricula activities like the debating society and experiencing a drama class, as well as having the opportunity to try out many different sports, gave me a certain belief in myself, which resulted in me blagging my way into banking without a university degree, but I am disappointed I wasn't encouraged to enjoy the pleasure of success. I have watched with interest how my son LOVES school and seems to have an insatiable appetite for learning. His teachers have managed to continue to capture his imagination.

- Any stand out teachers?
Mr Park - I WILL write that book. He did encourage.
Mrs Thorburn - regret never listening properly. Funnily enough her unusual teaching practices worked - there are certain facts imbedded in my brain from those hours in the science lab!

- Life lessons?Achievements?
Humility; the importance of manners in today's fast-paced world; appreciation of all that is good (A bout of meningitis towards the tale end of last year kicked me up the backside with regards that one); Patience (well I'm working on that!)

- Greatest hope?
Not to get it too wrong for the children.
Do something to slow the devastation.

- How different is your life from how you envisaged it 20 years ago?
Can a 17 year old really have any realistic visions? Embarrassed to admit mine were about comfort and security. Thankfully fate had another game plan.

-Living online?
FANTASTIC. I can satisfy all my consumer needs from the comfort of my desk, avoiding contact with other pushy shoppers! And when H is away we can maintain some semblance of communication. Though we joke about it, the global village makes 'Class of 87 - 20 years on' a possibility.

email: hugoandvix (at) hotmail (dot) com