Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 153

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Easy As Falling Under A Bus.
by:Angharad Llaw Euraid.(see The Mabinogion)
part: 153.

At the hospital, Dad played up. He wouldn't eat his sandwich and he wanted to go to the pub. I didn't. I was tired and I had work to do. When I told him I was expecting to go for surgery around New Year, he got quite cross with me.

"Why are you doing this to me, you knew what was going to happen once I told you? I am not playing at this, this," I pointed at myself, "What you see is what you get."

He didn't want to discuss it. But I did.

"You seemed to accept that I was going to marry Simon, but you didn't contemplate I was going to have to alter something first? Did you think I was joking about Simon?" I played with my engagement ring.

"Daddy, this ring is real, it's probably worth over a thousand pounds knowing Simon, I don't know and sometimes I'd prefer to stay ignorant. It isn't a joke, it isn't some civil partnership ceremony. I shall be married as a female to a male. I would like you to give me away - I mean, as my father at the ceremony. Would you do that?"

I looked across at him, and he was sat very still, a tear was running down his face. I didn't know what to do. I was caught in that dichotomous tension of wanting to slap him and love him at the same time. He seemed to be able to do this at the drop of a hat.

"Will you at least think about it, because if you don't I know someone who would be pleased to do it."

He glanced at me, another tear followed the first one, then he looked away.

"I'm going Daddy, I love you, but some days you make it very difficult." I stood up and walked out, I had tears of frustration in my own eyes by the time I got to my car. I didn't know if this was deliberate, or his strokes or unconscious. I suppose because I was vulnerable to him, he pushed my buttons. I did the same to him. The only difference was that he needed me, I didn't need him any more. Yet I knew I couldn't abandon him, not without him giving me great cause.

I drove home, whimpering and when I got indoors, I had a real bawling session. Of course Simon called before I'd got my breathing back to normal.

"You've been crying, what's the problem?"

"Nothing, just tiredness."

"Don't give me that, what is it?"

"Daddy played up, he wanted to go to the pub and I said ,no, I was too tired. I was going to do a whole mass of work, but I've done nothing except cry. I might as well have taken him to the damned pub."

"Let it go babes, he's probably had a naff day too. Let's face it, he doesn't do anything does he, so the highlight of his day is when you visit."

"And I let him down, is that what you're saying?"

"No, not at all. I suspect it was a miscommunication, that's all."

"Maybe. I'm exhausted, so I'm going to bed with Paddington."

"If he makes one move on my fiancee, tell him he's an ex bear!"

"Before or after the move?"

"I'll let you decide."

"I think I'll pass on that, the idea of being seduced by someone wearing a duffel coat and wellies, is just too much."

"Oh damn," he paused for effect and I half suspected what was coming, "I've just bought new ones, why do ya think I sent Paddington, to smooth the way."

"Simon, if I thought for one moment, that any of that was true, I would show you where you could stick your ring, and it would be somewhere above and between your wellies, at speed!"

"Ouch!" was his only retort.

"Before you say it, "Yes I am a cruel woman, but I meant it. I am too tired to think, so I am going to have a cuppa and go to bed. If you wake me up for any reason, then I will personally grind your bones to make my bread! Goodnight."

I unplugged the phone and went to bed. It was about eleven by the time I'd taken my makeup off, cleaned my teeth and washed. I decided I wouldn't call into the hospital on the way down to Simon's, I would give Dad some space, and take some myself. If he saw it as punishing him, tough, I didn't give a shit. I was in a no compromise mood. If someone upset me tonight, annihilation would follow, knee jerk fashion. Good job I wasn't PM or US President, because if one of our soldiers got shot in Afghanistan, the way I felt, I'd have nuked Kabul, or maybe just Southmead Hospital.

I got cross with myself for such a silly attitude, maybe I should just nuke myself, except I was too big to get in the microwave. I slipped into bed and then couldn't sleep. Life's a bitch....and then you get insomnia.

It was two thirty, the computer had just won it's first game of Scrabble, but only because it cheats. It wouldn't allow me a two letter word, then played it itself and went out. I checked out the window, it wasn't a full moon.

After another cuppa, only this time a milky coffee, I went back to bed and finally slept. I woke hearing lots of traffic noise, when I looked at the clock it was nine thirty.

I showered, packed, dressed and threw on some lippy, at half ten, I was on the road. I'd not prepared anything for my father so I went straight to the cottage as I'd planned. I felt very guilty, but I'd live.

Simon was out when I got there, he was driving his car. Fortunately Stella was there, so I unburdened to her.

"I'd just let it go Sis, it's not worth the effort of the upset. If you knew if he was playing you up deliberately, then you could take action to thwart it, because you don't, you can't. Let it go and see what happens."

How come everyone else was a better expert on my life than me? We had some more tea and I went for a walk in the garden to get some air. The garden to the cottage is large, as is the cottage, a misnomer by any standards.

Near the French windows, is a patio giving way to a lawn and flower beds. Beyond that is a pond with small fountain, one of those solar powered things. Past the pond is a vegetable patch, with some sprouts and leeks still in situ, the rest had been dug and spread with manure.

Once past the smelly element, there was a large garden shed plus compost heap and water butt, and so on. There was more lawn, then a wild bit, with apple and pear trees and a hawthorn and hazel hedge, with various other trees and shrubs growing in it. The hedge was probably ten feet high and almost as deep. I could just about see, though it, bearing in mind it was autumn/winter time. Then I saw something I could not believe.

I ran back into the house to get my camera, and called to Stella. She came rushing out, "What's the matter?" she asked thinking there was an emergency.

"Who does the garden?" I asked.

"Why?"

"Who does it?"

"An old boy called Sam, why?"

"Tell him to do minimal work on this hedge."

"He chops a bit back each spring or winter or some time, I don't know, Simon arranges it all. Why, what's the problem with the hedge?"

"It isn't a problem, see this green leaved stuff, ouch!" I pricked my finger, "this is hawthorn, very good hedging material. Properly laid, nothing will come through without armour plate. This really needs relaying, but there could be a problem."

"Oh why is that?"

"The other dominant growth here is hazel, it's been coppiced in the past by the look of things, that provides fire wood and stuff for hurdles, bean sticks and so on. It also provides catkins and hazel nuts, favoured fare of...."

"I don't know, squirrels, we get them in the garden fairly regularly. Even had one get in the house few years ago, what a mess."

"Quite, no not squirrels."

"A bird of some sort?"

"The hedge presumably gives food and shelter to dozens of birds at different times of the year. No, look there," I pointed.

"What am I supposed to see?"

"See that clump in the hawthorn?"

"Oh yes, bird's nest is it?"

"Yep, Muscardinus avellanarius, to be precise."

"What bird is that then?"

"A dormouse bird."

"What? A dormouse, we have dormice in our hedge?"

"Yes."

"Hooo-weeeh, wait till Simon finds out. How did you spot that?"

"See the footprints?"

"You can identify them from that?"

"Pretty well, plus the gnawed hazel shells, then look for the nest. there it is. The shells are jagged not round like mice eaten ones."

"Oh wow, this is brilliant, you really are an expert aren't you?"

"Sort of," I blushed.

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Comments please, this was nearly lost when the site went down as I was posting it.

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Comments

Hurray ...

... first reader tonight!!

lovely

G :o)

Nesting Dormice!

I figure this story needs an illustration:

Sooooooo Sweeeeeeeeeet

Aah, look at the wee darlings, waiting to have theeir tummies tickled.

Everybody say "AAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

Sweet dreams,
Gabi

Gabi.


“It is hard for a woman to define her feelings in language which is chiefly made by men to express theirs.” Thomas Hardy—Far from the Madding Crowd.

Re: Nesting Dormice!

Thanks for the very appropriate illustration, Pippa! Those dormice are very cute! It's easy to see why Cathy is so smitten by them!

And thanks for the wonderful episode, Angharad! If ever there were a sign from God in Her infinite Wisdom that Cathy, Simon and Stella belong as a family, that nest of dormice on Simon's property would be it!

Jenny

Simon's Cottage Dormice

Auntie,

You are a naughty girl. ;-) Cathy now has her study objects outside her bedroom window.

It would seem, in Cathy's case, that it is "Easy As Falling Off A Bike".

Please keep the EXCELLENT work up.

G/R

Spike is the dormouse

Angharad's picture

Simon is the boyfriend, concentrate! 8)

hugs,

Angharad

Angharad

The question is Priorities

I mean, sometimes it seems the mice have her priorities, sometimes it's Simon, sometimes...

Well, sounds like a nice guarden to me. :-)

Guess her dad's strokes affected his math ability. He had trouble adding 1+1 and getting 2...

Thanks,

Phran

nice line

kristina l s's picture

..lifes a bitch... and then you get insmomnia, well had me laughing anyway. Another lovely little rollercoaster episode. Keep em coming.

Kristina

Part 152

I forgot what I was going to say during the procedure of logging in, that is I had to concentrate on remembering names, passwords etc. Obviously I am not good at "multi-tasking," a popular buzzword here in the States (Don't know about the UK.). It's a good thing I don't have a cell phone as by now I would have run my car into a tree or worse.

I do remember now. What happened to the dastardly poison pen notes? Did they die with the crazed woman who attacked our Kathy?

marie c.

marie c.

Exactly

That's precisely what happened. She was the poison penner.

Poisen'd Pen

Are you SURE they're all gone? How about the one that was delivered to the windshield when she was visiting her dad in the hospital. That's harder to lay on Mary's feet.

Phran

Wrong hospital,

Angharad's picture

Cathy was visiting Simon part 119.

hugs,

Angharad

Angharad

Easy 152

I can just imagine the opposite. Sheila gives a big scream that they have mice and organises the whole hedgerow to be burnt and all mice destroyed!!

Hugs

Karen

Who?

Angharad's picture

I think you mean Stella, KP. Sheila is the young cop, and it was part 153 not 152. You haven't been at the mulled wine again, have you?

Hugs to Luton,

Angharad

Angharad

Catched up again

I wonder if Angharad "works" on Christmas Eve..

Hugs,

Kimby

Hugs,

Kimby

Season's Thingies

Nadolig Llawen a Blwyddyn Newydd Dda to Angharad
and
Happy Christmas and a Happy New Year to all
R

Sinisterpenguin

Siarad 'Taffy'

Angharad's picture

Diolch yn fawr Pengwin Ysgeler.

cofleidiau,

Angharad

Angharad

Que? (EAFOAB 153)

Please.

I'm an English person on an American website, plus I'm only a bloke. I can't understand this foreign stuff.

It's a good job the story's in English or I'd be lost - probably wouldn't have read nearly so many episodes either!

NB

Keep the barnet on Nick,

Angharad's picture

We wuz only rabbiting in Welsh.

I only said thank you to Sinister Penguin, who had wished me a Merry Christmas and Happy New year.

You'll have to get used to f'urners in France, place is full of them. Makes me smile, that 'Welsh' means 'foreigners' in Saxon, it was them who were invading us!

Angharad

Angharad

My barnet's fine thanks

I won't hold that against you.

It'll be weird to be in a place full of foreigners and be one of them - er, foreigner that is.

I have to get my head round the concept that talking loudly and waving my arms around won't necessarily get the job done or the message across. Still, my French isn't that bad, but I do have a long way to go...

By the way, I do hope you had a good Christmas and wish you a happy New Year.

NB

How to keep things straight

Totally in awe of the ability to keep things in their correct order. Angharad you must be possessed of total recall ! some times when other's comment they appear in Welsh also Even though it's really English.
Having owned several large pick-up trucks that I towed a 7000# horse trailer with, I did mileage this way. How far on a tank of gas. the only true way. That being said, I reside in a suburb of Boston USA where bikes are used by many including MDs to and from the Hospitals. A very green, quick and unfortunately dangerous, way to travel many instances like Cathy's occur but not with such charming results
I know that I'm posting 7yrs after the fact, including comments, but hopefully others will discover this story which is obviously a labor of love.
Angharad touches and changes the lives of any who take the time to read it, even only 200 chapters
It is a humbling experience , and an impossibly clear and warm look into the life of a young tg who is not a freak or an abomination But a true woman who in the final weeks before her birth the body beat the mind and soul in determining physical gender
Well, my gasbag moment is over. Back to the story !
Kevin