Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 2801

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The Daily Dormouse.
(aka Bike, est. 2007)
Part 2801
by Angharad

Copyright© 2015 Angharad

  
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This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
*****

I left Amanda talking to David, she was ironing and he was doing lunch to which I’d invited her. They seemed to be getting on quite well so I could get on myself, in looking through a short paper I’d done on polyandry in dormeece. Polyandry is multiple husbands, the opposite of polygamy as practiced by some weird religions still, though largely now forbidden in most modern democracies.

Dormice aren’t democratic as far as I know but it’s quite well known that the females tend to put themselves about when they’re in season resulting in litters which may have more than one father. In a low density population, such as most dormice have, the extra genetic mix may have some advantages. However it might also bring some risks as dormice tend to be territorial to some extent. Whether they actually come to blows is another matter, mind you I can’t see them settling disputes over a glass of acorn wine down the pub. Then again, neither do humans, we’d rather bomb each other into oblivion.

I gave up on my paper, and had a quick flit round the internet. The Murrays had just won a doubles game in the Davis cup final in Belgium. Tom and Simon will be pleased and the final match is tomorrow with Andy Murray, the world No 2, up against the top Begian seed who’s No 16 in the world. Apparently, GB haven’t won the Davis cup since Queen Victoria was a boy or some such thing—oh, it was 1936, so not far off then. Crikey, it was before Tom was born, that is a long time ago—he’ll kill me if he hears me.

I’d wasted an hour chasing facts round a computer screen. I had it drafted, I’d even got the bibliography done—is that tedious or what? But I wasn’t happy with the overall structure, so will rewrite it as time allows. I haven’t published anything on my own for ages, but this will go in the Journal of Mammalian Ecology when I finish it and it’s been peer reviewed—that can take months. I hope there aren’t any glaring errors in it. I spotted one in an Elly Griffiths’ story the other day, she was talking about a skull that had been smoothed inside to turn it into something you could drink from—pretty grisly I know, but the heroine is an osteo-archaeologist called Dr Ruth Dalloway, except she noticed she couldn’t see the iliac crest on the skull. She wouldn’t, it’s in the pelvis—the sticky out bit on the top of your hip at the front.

I went to see how my latest slave was progressing. She appeared to be doing very well and the mountain of ironing now resembled a mere hillock. She also had the girls taking things to hang up in their wardrobes—that’s more than I achieve. I wonder if she could get first year undergrads working—nah, that would require a miracle, for each one.

The problem is, lots of them have never been away from home for more than a summer holiday, where they partied all night and slept off their hangovers all day. I don’t have a problem with that unless I’m sharing a hotel and get woken up at two in the morning by, ‘We are the champions,’ sung off key and in falsetto by drunken revellers.

“When I was younger, I was in France with my parents when we had a group of English drunks pause under our window in the hotel and hold a singing competition. They were abusive when my father told them to clear off, though they went when he threw some water over them. The next night it was worse as we had twice as many so it was louder. They got fed up after that, especially when one fell in the pool and another joined him trying to pull him out. My dad and I went and hauled them out. They were only students by their age, I would guess. It pissed off my dad when they thanked him and his lovely daughter for saving their lives.

Dad was furious and told me I’d get my hair cut the next day or else. I went for the or else and ended up sitting for an hour by the pool in a bikini he made me buy and wear. The biggest problem was tucking my bits away between my legs. That no one said anything should have told him something, oh and I didn’t get my hair cut either, not for another month when I got the ends trimmed.

Lunch was a pleasant affair. Simon phoned to say he was at the rugby club watching the tennis. I thought it was over, obviously not. When I checked they’d only won the first game or set or something—trust me to get it wrong.

Amanda seemed to settle in with those of us who were there. Daddy danced attendance on her, I think I mentioned she was quite pretty. At least it meant he didn’t nag me about my dormouse paper.

When it was mentioned as dormouse paper, Amanda asked if it was for wrapping presents? Duh. Maybe I should design some and make a fortune—nah, I’m married to one already and it doesn’t make him happy, he just complains about the taxes he pays as being more than Amazon does worldwide. Doesn’t stop him buying books from there.

Unfortunately Daddy heard her and thought that the way it was going I would be able to use it for wrapping presents. In retaliation I told him he could wash his own socks and perhaps I’d have time to finish it. He looked at Amanda and said, “Och ye’re fu’ o’ blether, ye’ll wash ma socks f’ me won’t ye hen? Then mebbe, Charles Dickens there can get her paper finished.”

“He was born in Portsmouth, I’ve been to his house,” replied Amanda.

“Yeah, so’ve we, boring old fart.” Sammi declared which had the younger girls giggling. “Oh I’ve done those charts you wanted, Mummy.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Unfortunately, that meant I couldn’t use it as an excuse that I was waiting for some charts.

She looked at her watch and excused herself saying she had to go out for a couple of hours.

“I love the way they all respect you and Professor Agnew,” said Amanda as we were clearing the table.

“Who?” I knew it wasn’t my students that she was referring to.

“Your children, are they all girls?”

“Fraid so.”

“You almost have a football team, but no boys, were you trying for a boy?”

Nice thought. “No, they’re all adopted, I couldn’t have children of my own.”

“Oh, I’m sorry—I did think you were a bit young to have girls who were grown up.”

“They needed a home and parents and Simon and I took them in and eventually adopted them.”

“Gosh, it’s true what Maureen said isn’t it?”

“What did she say?”

“You’re really an angel.”

I blushed, “Don’t tell anyone will you or I’ll have to start wearing my wings again and it plays havoc with designer jackets.”

She roared with laughter, “Lady Cameron, you are so funny,” she doesn’t know the half of it.

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Comments

Seems promising

Which probably means that angharad has something up her sleeve.

Song

"‘We are the champions,’ sung off key and in falsetto by drunken revellers."

Is there any other way to sing it? :)

Thanks for continuing this tale.

not as bad as

Maddy Bell's picture

Bohemian Rhapsody sung by drunks!

Nice chapter Ang


image7.1.jpg    

Madeline Anafrid Bell

not as bad as

OMG!!! PLEASE NO!!!! As a KJ in a couple of bars, I hear that and 'Don't Stop Believing' (AKA 'Don't Stop The Screaming') on a regular basis. They should both be considered as violations of the Geneva Convention and listed as Cruel And Unusual Punishment. LOL

How to sing it?

Maybe an astrophysicist will show up to demonstrate.

The fidelity myth

Rhona McCloud's picture

The polyandrous dormouse reminded me of a New Zealand bird that was a symbol of fidelity in its pairing until a recent genetic study of offspring of the same mother showed…. well let's say 'Girls just want to have fun.'

I don't understand why Amanda didn't know dormouse paper was for wrapping dormice and can probably be bought on Amazon as they sell everything else; she does on the other hand seem to be fitting in nicely (especially with David?).

Rhona McCloud

Drunken reveling days

I seem to have missed all that in favor of gazing at my navel and contemplating the eternities. What a monumental waste of time that was. "Vanity of vanities, all is vanity".

Now that I've at great length understood, all the peerish potential drunken buddies are themselves hobbling about on canes, or in wheelchairs while they gaze into their own navels and contemplate repentance that is far too late.

"All is Vanity.

Worse Than "Champions"

joannebarbarella's picture

Maoris get collective amnesia after a bucketful of beer and sing "Ten Guitars" ad nauseam all night.

I Suppose

joannebarbarella's picture

I could be classified as whanau. I worked with a gang of Maoris and Islanders for several years and they were great guys drunk or sober except for singing "Ten Guitars" over and over and over and over on those nights when they had had more than a few (which was quite often).

10 axes

I was becoming fascinated with the hip roll, and thinking the only thing missing was a grass skirt. And how often a big man is a tenor.

Karen

I thought Vicky had rather large hands

You mean it's not a light purple toothpaste 8-).
It's Saint Lady Catherine. She and Stella turned their wings in after Cathy's mom died.
Eventually, I'll meet myself reading from the back and ketching up( I like sailboats ) like this.

Cefin

If they are designer jackets

then they would have to design around the wings too! Wouldn't they?

Wonder if Cathy will tell

Wonder if Cathy will tell Amanda to call her Cathy, as she really never seems to do well being called Lady Cameron unless she is going to take it out on some lout or to prove a huge point to some bonehead who believes they are so much better than she.

New staff

Amanda sounds like a good find but that's perhaps owed to Maureen's input.
Still lovin' it

bev_1.jpg

Polyandry Among Dormice

Dear Angharad,

Things are looking better in Simon and Lady K's household. All jolly and happy, as we might yearn after for this time of year.

Liked your comment on the crass stupidity of those Clowns in the House of Clowns. As an individual who at age 2 had to be dug from the ruins of the family home, because the Germans at that time thought blitzing the Brits would probably put them off trying to send soldiers in boots onto the Continental Ground to interfere with their "fun and games", and who still has one foot smaller than the other as a result, I agree the Polits are daft about bombing those totally crazy folk in Syria.

Polyandry is quite common among Arachnids (spiders), some species of Woodlice, many Fish, and Amphibia, though in most they don't actually stay together after the fertilization act. Coming closer to H. "sapiens" The Bonobos (sometimes called Pygmy Chimpanzees), who live in Bands, and are Matriarchal, have Polyandry. In SE China there is a protected non Han tribe called the Yellow Ghosts, where the females have several husbands, and a lot of evidence supports that the advanced Bronze Age Civilization based upon the Aegian, volcanic island of Thera aka Phera aka Santorini, now thought to be the origin of the legend of Atlantis, was Matriarchal and Polyandric.

Early humans were probably mostly Matriarchal, and only when population densities reached a level that shortages of land and shelter brought them to warfare did the males start to have the upper hand.

Automation and modern technologies make the traditionally advantageous extra muscular strength of the male human obsolete now, so perhaps we can revert to become Matriarchal again ?

Briar