Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1328.

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The Daily Dormouse.
(aka Bike)
Part 1328
by Angharad

Copyright © 2011 Angharad
All Rights Reserved.
  
-Dormouse-001.jpg

After placing my elbow in Simon’s ribs, he turned over on to his side and stopped muttering. I lay there thinking about my dream. Apart from the fact that I was interacting with a dead person, it was as if things had happened in a parallel universe. Had she been subversively educating me in housekeeping skills?

I remember I helped her make the lounge curtains which were still hanging in the house. In fact, I made half of them while she supervised, wanting me to be able to use a sewing machine. Dad was away playing golf or something. We measured and cut linings, put on the rufflette tape, hemmed and hung them. She even showed me how to measure the window width and curtains so there was enough spare material for them to hang correctly, and the same with nets.

She’d encouraged me to help choose the material so it matched or blended with the colour of the carpet and the suite–that wasn’t difficult, but judging how some people dress, her house was more colour coordinated than some people’s clothing scheme. Mine have subsequently been integrated, as she taught me.

How many boys can hem their own trousers? I could and did while away at uni, and almost offered to do a colleague’s jeans until I realised what that would say about me. I was the only one of most of my year who actually wore trousers and jeans of the correct length, most of the others bought them too short or frayed the hems by walking on them–mind you, most of the girls were as bad.

What else had she shown me? I would sit and watch as she applied her makeup, and once or twice she let me copy what she’d done–I was about nine at the time and she thought it was amusing–or was it? I never forgot what she taught me and have taught my children the same–well the girls.

When we babysat for the neighbours a few times, she had me bath the baby and dress her and then feed her with a bottle, burp her and so on. My father wasn’t too happy about it but she argued that I might have children of my own and at least I’d have handled a baby. It’s come in handy a few times since.

Whether she was deliberately feeding my feminine side or just passing on her knowledge, I can’t say. The dream might have been pure wishful thinking. I glanced at the clock, it was after five and light–I wasn’t going to sleep anymore, so I slipped out of bed and went down had a cuppa and a slice of toast and got the bike out.

I rode for about an hour including a slow ascent of Portsdown hill, it doesn’t get any easier when I’m riding regularly, so when I’m not, it’s a real struggle. I stopped at the top and had a drink of water and got my breath back. I watched the sun rising and the world awakening on a Sunday morning. It was going to be unusually warm by the feel of it, although it was still cool and a widespread dew everywhere, the day looked bright and sunny.

I rode back down the hill, hoping that it was too early for much traffic–except the odd dog walker–those people are out at all times of day and night–it seemed very quiet.

I flew down the hill, touching speeds well in excess of forty miles an hour with the adrenalin flowing through my system. You know that if anything happens at that speed you’re going to be badly hurt or killed, so it is exciting and hairy–it’s also exhilarating and I love it.

Nearly back at home, a group of male cyclists overtook me–I didn’t see them until they were on me–so I let them go. I’d done about seventeen miles and my legs had had enough.

I wiped the bike down and locked it away in the garage before going back into the house. Tom was up and seeing me clad in lycra knew exactly what I’d been doing.

“Guid ride, hen?”

“It was okay, but I’ve lost about ten percent of my speed.”

He shrugged, we both knew why, you have to keep exercise up or lose muscle tone. I made some more tea and ate a bowl of cereal while he pulled on his jacket and picked up the dog’s lead. He was having his constitutional and walking the dog–which he did most days whatever the weather. For an oldish man, he was quite fit.

I dashed up and showered which woke Catherine up, so after drying and dressing myself, I took her down and fed her. It wasn’t long before Livvie was down with me and she helped me feed Puddin’, who was also awake. I wondered how Stella was doing–I’d have to try and phone her later.

A little while later, the rest of the brood were up including Simon, who muttered something about a bruise on his ribs which he had no idea of getting. I had to look away and pretend I was sorting one of the children out.

Of course the exception was Julie, who like most teenagers didn’t like going to bed and liked getting out of it even less. She could sleep for England–perhaps they should try that instead of football, they might win. She usually rose about midday on a Sunday, unless she was going somewhere. Though more frequently, she wasn’t because she’d been out half the night. She’d passed her driving test and Simon gave her a little runabout–one of those Smart car things, so she could only have one passenger. It was economical compared to my car or Si’s–mind you he does tend to have a lead foot–and I suspect Daddy’s car as well. His Land rover was reasonably good but he usually only drove it about town, I couldn’t remember the last time he drove any distance–oh yes I can, that bloody woman who nearly got him killed.

Once breakfast was cleared away, I put the joint of beef in the oven and prepared the veg. I used to par boil the potatoes for roasting, now I whack ‘em in the microwave for a quick fix and then dump ‘em in the oven. Trish helped me with the veg and then laid the table.

I then asked the girls if they wanted to do some sewing. Meems was very interested and Trish hemmed and hawed but eventually decided she might participate, especially when Livvie agreed it could be fun as well. Billie was very reticent which surprised me a little. Usually sewing is seen as a very girly thing and most transgender kids like to do girly things (unless they want to be boys). When I spoke to her later, she was afraid that she wouldn’t be any good at it, so she wimped out.

Meems had the best idea, Trish and Livvie were halfway there, but needed more practice. I had them cutting out and tacking after we measured a piece of cloth and pinned it. I’d seen something in a shop that I could copy, so we were making little hanging bags for putting knick-knacks in by the side of their beds–a torch or pencils, that sort of thing.

I did it for an hour with them then had to attend to the dinner, which once again Trish came to help–she seemed more interested in food than sewing, and I promised her she could help me make the gravy later on.

She duly did, and we served the rib of roast beef with roast potatoes, carrots, broccoli and swede. For desert, I did a fruit sponge, which Trish helped me make, with chopped apple baked under a basic sponge, served with single cream. I passed on the sweet, feeling too full after my main course–I think Danny probably ate my share–some days I think he has hollow legs, because he eats like the proverbial equine yet doesn’t seem to gain an ounce let alone pounds.

After clearing up, I fell asleep over the Observer crossword while Simon and Danny messed about with a football in the garden–until they broke some glass in Tom’s greenhouse, which the girls thought was hilarious.

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Comments

Thank you Angha,

ALISON

'for another delightful episode.Despite having two elder sisters,my mother taught and encouraged me to use the (treadle) sewing machine,and even at my advanced age I still now have an electric one and enjoy using it.

ALISON

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1328

I remember one ride that she had down hil that almost had her weeing in her pants. But that as well before any of the kids showed up.

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

Day in the life of.

Except for the sowing thing this was a nice 'day in the life of'.
It's good for all kids to learn some simple stuff with a needle. I was taught to sow sailmaker and tarpauline repair style early on at sea. All my stitches are 'half hitches' but at least my seams never run.

I've never carried a tachometer or speedometer on my bike so I've never known how fast I'm going. Usually it's fast enough down hill to get my blood racing and for that I don't need to know the speed.

Nice chapter Angie.

Still lovin' it.

OXOXOX

Bev.

Growing old disgracefully.

bev_1.jpg

Cycle computers etc

Bev, I bet the girls weren't using a sail-makers palm to push the needle through the fabric :)

A friend of mine, a very successful racing cyclist, hated the speed readout of his computer. He said he was either going as fast as he could (which was very fast!) or as fast as he wanted. He just liked to know the distance. I find in old age the speed I ride is depressingly slow. I was never fast but I could manage 10 miles in 25 minutes and 25 miles in an hour and 5 minutes (an hour and 10 on a trike) - I daren't even try now :) My wife records every mile she does, cycling or walking. I don't bother.

Nice steady episode, Angharad. Glad the router problem is solved. However, I have a feeling things aren't going to remain peaceful for long.

Robi

One gets the impression Mum is still guiding her

Well whether her dream was just a dream or not it is guiding Cathy along. She is a great mum BTW and her teaching basic sewing is cool. I was the only one in my family who paid attention to my mother when she did sewing and stuff, not that she was that good but I am pretty sure I can do the basics of repair and hemming if need be.

It is a very domesticated chapter and it seems to be all peaceful on the Cameron front until the next time that is ....

Kim

Yes, I do believe...

I do believe that Danny's at that age where many young boys grow those hollow legs. That, or they have a fold in space where their stomachs belong. They can never be filled up (unless you serve them something they REALLY do not like)... This stage can last quite a long time. (I think some never grow out of THINKING they have that calorie burning engine.)

I wish my mom had taught me how to sew - with the machine that is... MAYBE I can get my wife to - now that she knows I don't mind... Though, with only one functioning machine in the house (an old Pfaff)... I'll not likely get near it. *sighs* At least I learned to sew by hand (& can do a nice stitch, if I do say so myself...) and do needle point and such. I can recall a bit of crochet too... But that's been a long time. We'll see. I'd probably best learn to sew though. I somehow don't expect to be finding lots of things "off the shelf" that will fit well... *sighs* Broad shoulders do not belong on ladies - or so the designers seem to think.

Thanks,
Anne

We knew that 1 machine would be hopeless

so we have 5, or is it 6? With 2 households, I believe 2 machines are with the Professor, and I have an everyday machine, and my mother's Singer that she bought new in 1953. There's a couple of others that we don't use, and of course the kids a machine or two...

I think the next acquisition will either be a serger or one of those computerized embroidery/quilting machines.

Janice

Cycling in Bike?

Thanks A+B+I (Roast beef & veg): it was nice to see Cathy getting out on her Bike--something that she rarely seems to have enough time for anymore. I half-expected one or more of the children to join her.

All-in-all, a nice domestic Bikesode, with the children learning some skills that will serve them well. I just hope that some positive parenting might turn around Billie's attitude to not trying things that she might not be good at--self-fulfilling prophecies and all that.

Practical Skills


Bike Resources

Poor Simon

his ribs must bee so sore, Sleeping with Cathy should carry an health warning , Having said that that , I'm sure its not one he would change, Living with Cathy has bought an excitement to his previously mundane life, One which i'm sure he will share with his grandchildren, When they are sitting around his feet listening to the tales of Granny Cathy...

Kirri

life subj.

I have Raleigh w/hi end shimano (tour bike and mntn bikes) they do what i want, so.... I'm more of a tourist than a speed demon. When i get there is good enuff for me. I dont ride slow, but it's not racing either generally. I used to do alot of long distance camping/riding when I was younger and still have my Burley Trailer I used. I never really liked paniers, and the burley let me take stuff that was maybe not heavy, but bulky. I'm still really into camping albeit now more car camping (tents) or with a 36 foot 5th wheel that's def. in the luxury class and expense.
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I can sew, (meaning I can mend things). never had any inclination to do or takeup other variations on a theme. As I'm rather long armed, it'd be nice at times to find women's blouses,suits that fit off the rack, alas, generally not, but I do know a tailer, she has no qualms on gender issues, so that' been a big plus for both sides of my life. Altho i was born interesexed, had surgury to make me male(didnt even know that till I was an adult). I do consider myself a transsexual, that started transition, ran into some obsticles that would NOT let me do full time, so i'm sorta physically in an inbetween state and I do more a crossdresser routine than maybe what i would have preferred. It works for me, or least does now that I've come to terms with my decision. Now being retired + more or less out in open, I've decided I'll do what I damm well want, and if others dont like it... They can do their own thing.
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on Danny ... well, any boy in general, but this could include girls in teen years that are atheletes in particular. 3,000-4,000 cals per day is not unlikely, and I've heard of some doing up into 6,7 thousand. In comparison the avg. adult is susposed to be in the 1500 range. In other words Danny is YES eating like a horse, but he's also burning it off also at a higher rate. #1,just being a growing boy, #2-athletics.

anyrate - my two cents worth and now back to reading next :-)

A domestic day of bliss,

it is funny Cathy becoming aware of her Mom's awareness of her issues.

I suspect Dad is not too proud of himself how he handled his kid.