Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 990.

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The Daily Dormouse.
(aka Bike)
Part 990
by Angharad

Copyright © 2010 Angharad
All Rights Reserved.
  
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The weekend passed without much to mention, I did visit Maureen again but the sympathetic nurse wasn’t there, so I just sat and talked to her, whilst holding her hand–low key life saving.

On Monday she opened her eyes and the hospital was very pleased with her progress–I said nothing. Her bruising was coming down very quickly, obviously she heals fast. Julie wanted to come but not as much as she wanted to tongue wrestle with Leon.

On Sunday, Simon took the boys out for a ride–they came back miffed that he hadn’t taken them to the pub nor raced them. He grumbled at me when he came back.

I did manage a ride on Sunday by myself and did a quick ten miler while Simon looked after breakfast. I was sore before I got on the saddle–hence the ten miles only–so you can imagine what I had to trade for his breakfast supervision.

Monday evening Si went back to London and I went back to being a banking widow, and that is not a spoonerism, dirty minded lot.

Tuesday, the kids were back to school so the usual routine continued. After it, Julie mentioned she wanted to save for a moped. I told her that two wheels are supposed to be powered by the rider. She asked about motorbikes and I told her that they were death traps.

She told me that Simon had thought she might have one. I refuted it, and overruled it. If she wanted to be a biker chick, she could do it when she left my house. Here there would be no motorbikes, except the battery powered push bikes–which she described as naff. I was inclined to agree with her, but didn’t say so.

Wednesday, she tried for the moped again and I refused. “Even if I pay for it?”

“I think they’re dangerous.”

“You’re being an old fuddy-duddy, you’re like worse than Gramps.”

“The figures for serious injuries and fatalities on motorbikes are far worse than for cycling, and those are bad enough. We’ll get you driving lessons when you’re old enough, until then you’ll have to use public transport or a bicycle, or possibly walk–it could be why we evolved legs.”

“Huh, I thought you’d have told me we had two legs because that’s like, how many pedals there are on a bike.”

“I think it might be the other way round, bikes these days are far more advanced than humans.”

“Is that because God didn’t have a computer? Oh, sorry, you don’t believe in God do you?”

“It depends upon whether you consider binary and sexual duality are coincidental or deliberate.”

“What?”

“I take it you don’t have an opinion on the matter?”

“You’re smart-arsing me, aren’t you?”

“You started it. Now, what about lunch?”

The phone rang and I ambled over to answer it. It was Tom. “Cathy, can ye tak this somewhere private?”

“Hold on, Daddy, I’ll just look in the study.” I popped into his sanctum and shut the door. “What’s the matter, Daddy, has something happened?” my stomach was flipping over like a waterwheel.

“Are ye on yer ain?”

“Yes, what’s happened?” I asked again feeling very nervous.

“Ye’ve bin nominated fa anither job.”

“I can’t do anything else, I barely manage now.”

“I dinna think ye can turn this doon.”

“What d’you mean?”

“Ye’ve bin nominated as pert o’ thae UK team tae work wi’ thae United Nations on conserving ecosystems.”

“You’re joking aren’t you? I’m a greenhorn–there are loads of people better suited to it than I am. I’ve got five children in school, how am I supposed to cope with something new?”

“I dinna ken, Cathy, but I doo ken it’s a tremendous honour.”

“How do you know before they ask me?”

“Thae letter’s in thae post.”

“Did you nominate me?”

“Dinna be a numpty, I’d hae pit ma ain name doon first, widnae I?”

“So who did? I’ll kill them.”

“Dinna be sae hasty, this micht hae cam fro’ government.”

“I don’t know anyone in government.”

“Ye’ve met various government ministers.”

“I met one at this house, gosh that must be a couple of years ago.”

“Aye, an yer hubby hobnobs wi’ Prime Ministers an’ sae does yer faither in law.”

“I can’t do it, Daddy, I physically can’t do it.”

“It wid look guid on yer CV.”

“Is that before or after my funeral.”

“Och dinna be sae pessimistic, ye’ll cope.”

“Only because I’m not interested. No, is my final answer. I have to go, Daddy.” I replaced the phone.

“What’s the matter, Mummy.”

“That was Gramps, he called to tell me they want me to work with the UN on ecology.”

“Wow, does that mean you’ll have to go to New York?”

“What for?”

“Oh, I always wanted to go up the Empire State Building.”

“Don’t tell me assisted by a fifty foot gorilla?”

“Absolutely, like how did you know?”

“It was an inspired guess,” I shook my head. “What am I supposed to do about five school children who are my responsibility?”

“I’m sure they’d like to go to New York, as well.”

“Look, I hate to disappoint but it’s more likely to be based here than the US. It will be about running teams of pen pushers and writing policy statements. Sitting in boring meetings and trying to stay awake; that sort of thing.”

“Oh, I thought the UN was very glam.”

“Tell that to the people who died on Haiti.”

“Oh.”

“What about the fact that the country which destroyed proportionally more of its forests than anyone else between 2000 and 2005 was the US–how do we deal with that?”

“Oh, I’d have thought it was Brazil.”

“The deforestation there is still going on apace as well.” As we were talking the doorbell rang. It was the postman requiring a signature for a package. I signed and took it inside.

It was one of those with a plastic security bag surrounding what looked like a small box file. The return address was a PO box number. It told me nothing. I looked at the delivery address, it was to Lady Catherine Cameron and my home address.

There was nothing for it but to cut it open and see what was inside. I knew who it was from; Tom’s call had ensured that, so at least it wasn’t entirely a surprise.

I read the bumf letter attached to the front of the file. It explained that the government through Defra and Natural England had recommended me for this post of Ecology Team Leader. It listed the other members of my team, there were two professors, a number of well known scientists and a leading natural history writer/broadcaster. I was probably the least qualified to do this–so why had they picked on me?

The contact number was Gareth Sage. I was going to tear him into shreds–no–I was going to chop him up with a pound of onions and stuff him up a chicken’s bum. I put the documents safe and went to show Julie how to make chicken soup. She was filling the bread machine, so that meant I’d let her live at least until after lunch.

“Okay, kiddo, let’s see what veg we have…”

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Comments

There are only 24 hours in a day!

As Cathy herself states, how the heck is she going to fit in the UN work if she accepts the post?

She's already got to look after six children and 2½ adults; assist with the mammal survey; research, write, present (and possibly produce / direct) the harvest mouse film; assist with the maintenance of the university dormice; deal with occasional visits by the Russian Mafia, homophobes and the media; heal the occasional hospital patient; keep fit by cycling...

 


There are 10 kinds of people in the world - those who understand binary and those who don't...

As the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, then only left-handers are in their right mind!

2 1/2 Adults?

Tom maybe counts as one, but Stella and Simon put together don't make one whole adult. In fact, when you put Stella and Simon together, the adult factor likely goes down! The kids need minders, S & S need keepers!

Having a head's up on what was in the package, she shoulda refused it. ;-)

Karen J.

"Being a girl is wonderful and to torture someone into that would be like the exact opposite of what it's like. I don’t know how anyone could act that way." College Girl - poetheather


"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin

LOL - It doesn't just rain...

does it.

I was wondering when Cathy'd find something else to fill up her empty days. I mean, she's got absolutely nothing to do all the day long, what with only a half dozen kids, a documentary to produce, consulting for the bank, finishing her doctorate, teaching, research, mammal survey, need I go on? Seriously, the girls got sooo much time on her hands.

Now, they want her to have this "titular" position, and let the others do the work again. I mean, get real. How long will she sit around relaxing, while the others do all the work. Yeah, Right...

Sooner or later, she's going to have to give up on something (okay, she's already postponed quite a lot)... I wonder what gives.

Thanks,
Ann

Rhymes with banker...

Simon or Gareth?

That's two episodes running now we've had references to fowl rear orifices. Is this a trend?

I sense that fireworks are on the way. A Cathy riled is a dangerous beastie.

Prospective Stuffing


Bike Archive

Whew, someone wants Cathy busy

I suspect that she's far more pleasing as a leader/spokesperson than the more qualified members of the team.

Could it have anything to do with the new prime minister.... a relative?

or, she could hire

Maureen to be the kids governess, and Leon's mom to take care of everything else. Move into the Hotel, and have built in baby sitters, and raise the kids in the urban Jungle. Hire away Tom and Tom's staff to run the surveys, and drop kick Stella to make the next movie, since the camera hog can do the pics. Cathy might have to do a voice over guest appearance. Let the government go bankrupt and make hubby take over the domestic staff, and run Cathy Enterprises,LLC, Ltd, or Cathy and Cathy, since there are obviously two of her. Wonder how many transgendered people she could help get a start in a new life with a decent job? Bet Cathy could get elected and then get a whole staff to take over the minor jobs while she fixes it all . But then I have been told I have no imagination, so this has to be a dream.

Smarter than that

Cathy is too smart to become a politician. ;-)

Karen J.

"Being a girl is wonderful and to torture someone into that would be like the exact opposite of what it's like. I don’t know how anyone could act that way." College Girl - poetheather


"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin

Just curious ...

... what's a bidow, Angharad? (I know what the other is) :)

Funnily enough I've suffered far more serious accidents on pedal cycles than ever I did from the 100s of thousands of miles I did on motor cycles. So, for me, the case that motor cycles are more dangerous than push bikes doesn't hold.

What are you doing to poor Cathy? The things you make her do just for our entertainment. Isn't it great?

Robi

Bidow

Urban Dictionary: bidow
bidow - 1 definition - A word to be used when a conversation gets boring or awkward. You randomly shout "BIDOW"!

poppykin

Bike pt 990

They might want Cathy as the Pretty Face seen by the Public. If so, then she would basically be a talking head.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

24 hours in a day.

Don't worry Cathy, if you keep the hours Angharad keeps you'll have no trouble sorting out the UN on Eastern Standard time, (office hours of course,) while busying yourself in England.
This one must have been posted close to midnight or even after.
Ah well, being as I'm on Tokyo time it's another all-night comment.
Go on Cathy, be brave take the hord to the big apple. It'll do wonders for world peace.

Still lovin it or why else would I be writing comments at 2 o'clock in the morning.

Nesum dorme, nesum dorme.

OXOXOX.

Beverly.

bev_1.jpg

Tom is bonking clueless

If he thinks Cathy will take it merely because it looks good on her CV.

There is no way she can add that in.

Now who can we get to volunteer to hold it open while Cathy prepares the stuffing?

^__^

Cathy is not being creative enough with the stuffing. A liberal dose of habanero would be much more fun but then again she would have to wear gloves preparing it! 8-).

Ooops, I thought Cathy was going to cut up a chicken and stuff it up his bum! Never mind.

*blush*

Kim

Good Heavens Woman !

I am afraid that I can't even speculate where the bloody hell this is going? I think she needs some eye o' the dog and chips and to think on it.

Righto, Jolly Good, on with it now.

Khaduuj

Maybe now we have

a Cameron as Prime Minister, The U.N. think Cathy has some family influence....

Kirri

trees

I'll agree USA chops alot of trees but most of us (I include me also) but we do alot more conservation than public sees & trees normally fallen now are trees meant for harvest, not old growth. In this state it's nearly killed the ecomomy over the past 2-3 decades as timber was a major industry.

Unfortunately tho the USA,Canada,& Brazil do not have top billing anymore. It's China. they are opening up new areas so fast it's mind blowing & those open spaces are primarly going to industrial stuff, so you get a double whammy ecolologically speaking

Cathy

Problem is, for Cathy, she can not help herself. She will throw herself at this job, and do it to the best of her ability. Then she will have a nervous breakdown.

International Recognition !

"chop him up with a pound of onions, and stuff him up a chicken's bum." I'm laughing so hard I peed myself.
What kind of a mind comes up with these expressions ?
Is the chicken still alive ? or Plucked ready for stuffing ? makes a difference, you know.

Cefin