Accidentally flashing in a very short dress.

Friday October 10^th.

Our day began as normal with me walking the dog and Laura getting ready to go swimming. We did our 100 lengths and then spent ages chatting with Sarah, mainly about our tutoring school pupils as part of a scheme at Uni. She thought it must be great for the pupils to get support from someone of a similar age but who knew their subject backwards.  I described Olivia and Jenny-Leigh to her and she was amused by how different they were. I think Jenny may be the one to shine despite her appearance. She does seem far more switched on than Olivia, TBH.

A full stint at Uni today but still no trace of the wandering Frenchwoman. I did get greeted by a couple of people from the faculty who congratulated me on breaking my duck and getting a good report from Dr Mary. How did they know? I haven’t said anything to anybody. Obviously the jungle telegraph works just as well here as everywhere else.

Laura had a meeting with the post graduate careers service people today and they are going to give her details of several avenues of exploration for a career in Maths after graduation. She quite fancies statistical analysis, as I may have said, and probability theory; so we’ll have to see what may turn up. It is a little worrying that she may end up having to move away.

Dad called tonight to see what I thought of the new Flying Colors CD he’d sent through the post. (It arrived on Wednesday morning.) I said I thought it was OK but not as immediately attention grabbing as their first one. He was really quite down about it. He thought it was poor and a waste of his £12! I tried to cheer him up but he seemed a glum little bunny about it all. So much so that he is even considering cancelling his advance order of the new Pink Floyd album as he expects that will be a major disappointment too.

I had to try and make him see it was the fact that the first CD was so good it made the second one seem mediocre in comparison. The same won’t be true of Punk Floyd. It has been so long since The Division Bell that any new work has to be a bonus, regardless of quality. It struck me as rather weird that the daughter was having to reassure the parent! Although sometimes he does seem like a kid who has just grown older not up!

Loll’s first tutorial pupil came today, accompanied by his Mum. He is called Josh and he is a complete drongo. He is very tall and rather chubby and, I am sorry to say, a bit dim. He is needing extra help with his maths. He needs a grade C at GCSE an according to Laura, afterwards, if he gets it she’ll bare her arse in the middle of Carlisle!

I sat and chatted to his Mum, who was nice but a bit feckless sounding. Apparently, Josh doesn’t do homework so if Laura tries to set him some he won’t do it. He is a ‘good’ boy and is kind and helpful, but he can’t be doing with school. I almost asked her why they had signed up for the tutorial programme but she volunteered the information that Josh’s Dad had insisted. He knew Josh wasn’t going to be an accountant or anything but he needed to be good with numbers and currently he was hopeless.

That was the very word Laura whispered to me, after half an hour, when I went up with two drinks for the student and pupil! I guess he is a unique specimen to me, I can’t remember what my brother was like aged 15 as I was only 5 at the time and I have no contemporary 15 year olds, in my circle, with which to compare him. I did lose my virginity to a 15 year old when I was the same age but he was a genius compared to Josh! I bet he doesn’t even know what virginity is, never mind know that he has one to lose!

He and Laura packed in after an hour, rather than the two, as she didn’t want to over-tax him. He seemed quite cheerful as he left and was keen to tell his Mum that Miss Thomas was going to “learn him how to do his Maths proper”. Good for Miss Thomas, I thought.

I asked her if she was ready for some more sums. She said what did I mean? I told her some ‘gozinters’. She asked what I meant, so I ran my first two fingers along the front her jeans and said, “You know, 2 goes into 1!”

We spent a lot of time proving that it was easily possible to put more than two into one at the very same time.

Saturday 11^th October.

Bloody mother nature, eh? She always spoils your fun! Good job I was expecting her visit is all I can say. It didn’t interrupt our plans for the day. We went walking the dog and then swimming and had two showers as usual. We didn’t indulge ourselves in the shower, for obvious reasons. After breakfast I set too and gave the house a top to bottom clean. Well, you have to don’t you?

Laura commandeered the kitchen to make some apple scones and then cooked the meal for the day, a fish stew, a sort of Cullen Skink-ish affair. By the time she’d baked and prepped and put the meal on the timer in the oven I was ready to chuck her out so I could clean the kitchen.

We had a snack lunch and spent the arvo dossing about; reading the papers; reading our books; playing a version of two of tonight’s three pieces. I don’t have a copy of Marche Slave, but I have heard it a lot.

The fish stew was glorious and just what was needed on a day that proved Autumn had arrived. After that we had another shower and changed into our glad rags. I wore my clingy, jersey mini-dress, the red one with the long sleeves. I thought red knicks might be a good idea too, as it is a rather skimpy dress and given to revealing more than I intend at times. I had my stiletto ankle boots and denim bolero jacket to finish off. I didn’t bother with tights as my legs are still quite tanned. Laura was being the ‘butch’ to my ‘femme’ tonight, so she was in chinos, a crop top and work shirt. She had some killer heels too, in purple to match the colour of the striped work shirt (bought in Fremantle this summer).

We hit the circle bar at about 6.55 and ordered our interval drinks. We wondered if we’d see Mrs B before we went in but we didnae. When we sat down I discovered the major problem with my jersey dress and the City Hall seats. They made the bloody thing ride up! Huge flash of red under wear as I leant back in my seat and in a rather undignified way attempted to pull my hem lower than my modesty. Laura did say that if I was embarrassed she could let her hand rest about there during the performance! [She did this once in the cinema in Workington, when only a handful of people were in there. Different dress, that time. I had to feign a coughing fit to cover the orgasm she brought me to.] Once I reminded her of my situation she withdrew the offer.

Marche Slave was as stirring and heroically patriotic as I remembered. The violin concerto sublime as ever. It is so melodic and just typically Tchaikovsky. I was humming the main theme as we trooped to the bar, without revealing too much of my nether region as I negotiated the rising from my seat! I used to criticise girls who wore short skirts and them kept pulling at the hem as if they were embarrassed by the display, tonight I’d joined their ranks. I am sure the dress must have shrunk a little and it was much longer than this prior to its last wash. Mrs B was waiting by our little card and two drinks as we went into the bar. Laura greeted her with the words, “She’s having a wardrobe malfunction…” Thanks a bunch.

Mrs B smiled and said she couldn’t remember seeing anyone so embarrassed to be showing off such shapely pins. She knows how to build a girl’s confidence. I explained that since I had put the bloody thing on it had shrunk two sizes and instead of being a 10 was now a 6! She said she didn’t think the men in the bar were all that dismayed; most of the men’s eyes in the room could probably not care less that there was so much of me on show.

We discussed other wardrobe malfunctions we had known which made us giggle. Mrs B’s worst was a bikini problem in a swimming pool as a teenager. Her top had detached itself when she jumped in. That’s happened to me too. Whereas she brazened it out and just went to get it back I became ultra-coy and covered my boobs with my arm until I had recovered the renegade swim wear. Loll was disappointed that she hadn’t had any similarly embarrassing problems with her clothing. Both were surprised that I hadn’t just flashed my boobs to the world as I retrieved my top. I told them their opinion of me was very disturbing.

We chattered on about inconsequential stuff until the bell and then I decided to head off quickly back to my seat so I could avoid a repeat performance of the flashing. I was much better this time; holding on the hem as I sat made all the difference.

Part two of the Moscow Philharmonic’s performance was equally as good as the first and Laura said my description of the fifth symphony as a mere stop-gap symphony was unkind. Walking back to the car I watched with astonishment as girls tottered about in dresses shorter than mine with no apparent worries about whether they were flashing their all or not. Perhaps I should dress my age, not my dress size in future!

A swift change of outfit when we got back home saw me walking Callie up the road to Onesacre for her last walk of the day with no possibility of me showing my knickers to anyone. It would prove a trifle tricky in jeans. LOL

Sunday Oct 12^th

We had a mini lie-in this morning, this means I got up at about 6.45 instead of 5.45!

The weather seemed to be much better than I had expected, so when I got back home I asked the breakfast preparing Laura if she fancied going to rock. She nodded. We had our petit dejeuner, showered and then packed up our rucksacks. I put two ropes in the car as I was planning on doing some climbs which might push Laura’s technique a bit. She was a bit apprehensive but willing to give it a go. Before we left I phoned Mum and asked if it was OK for us to pop round after our arms went wobbly on the edges and she was very keen for us to come for lunch. We arranged to be there at about 3pm.

My plans were to cover a few of the trickier pitches on Stanage, but owing to the nice weather it seemed that lots of other rock monkeys had the same idea. Laura hasn’t climbed Groove Is In The Heart before and so I set up a belay to give her extra reassurance. We scaled it twice each before a party of five burly looking guys came along and asked if they could climb next. Naturally etiquette dictates you don’t hog the route once you’ve finished so we let the incredible bulks have the groove to themselves.

We moved on to Archangel, another first for Laura and another for which I set a belay first. It gives her a bit of extra confidence and I suppose it is safer. When I followed her I noticed that part of my harness was getting a bit worn looking. One of the leg tapes looked like it had been caught by something at one edge and was starting to fray. Not much, but enough for me to have get out my repair kit when we get home.

Our third foray up the grit was to be on Hargrave’s Original but the foot was stacked with at least two other parties all waiting for a go so we pottered about bouldering and doing some technique practice for Laura. There are some good places along the edge for some small scale chimneying and doing lay-backs, so I took her to those and we messed about until our arms went wobbly. It is a technical term for over exerting yourself! LOL

By now it seemed that everyone who had a bit of rope was dangling from the edge, so we gathered up out gear and took Callie a sweeping walk along the edge before driving to few miles to Mum’s house at Holmesfield. Dinner was a huge roast chicken, cooked with rosemary, and a mountain of veggies. We ate until we could eat no more. Not even a “waffer thin mint!”

We sprawled in the lounge on Mum’s sofa, sipping tea and having a chat with Mum. She was dead keen to know how my first foray into academia proper had gone. I told her all about Thursday morning and how I thought it had gone well. I think the students who came will appreciate it and the fact the assignment accompanying it will give part of a credit too.

Laura described our private tutoring experiences to her and made us all laugh with her portrayal of Josh saying he didn’t “get it”. Mum was pleased something had finally come from the programme as she thought it might have died a death, like so many initiatives that the Uni starts.

She then dropped her mini-bombshell. She has been seeing a new fella. He’s called John and he owns a sheep farm on the moors on the edge of the national park. She began to see him during the summer, while we were in Australia and had been out for a few “dates” during that time. She was surprised that he isn’t a dour, grumpy type like the hill farmers we have known in Cumbria. He is divorced and has three children. I said, “Snap, mother!”. They are grown up and have moved away, except Judy who has come back to the home after her marriage went belly up. She is proving to be the best sheep farmer he has known, which surprised him enormously. Mum has met Judy but not the other two girls, yet. I asked when we were going to meet him and she did go all shy and teenager on us. She wondered if we fancied coming round next weekend for a meal and to meet both him and Judy. I had to disappoint her and tell her that we were in Cumbria next weekend. We have booked for the following one, instead.

We stayed at Mum’s until about 9.30 and then headed off back to my little house. After walking the dog and having our showers I found Laura busy with the new rabbit. She said I was going to wait for you but you seemed to be taking for ever… I did my best pretend indignant stance but just giggled. I told her that the rabbit was good but a mouth would be better. I spent a while proving that. She gave my little bump a good seeing to with her fingers and the rabbit. Obviously we didn’t play hide the bunny with me. After my sky had exploded we just cuddled for a while and I ran her hair through my fingers as she fell fast asleep. I couldn’t seem to nod off, so I spent another hour or so catching up with my e-mails on my tablet, listening to the sound of her gentle breathing next to me. There is nothing so reassuring as watching the one whom you love sleeping.