An unexpected invitation

Monday 15^th December.

Well, nobody asked at the faculty meeting about Felice, so it looks like she has managed her hyper-skive really well. I bet if I tried it I would get caught and thrown off my PhD work or something.

I skyped Suze this morning and she was full of how nice Louisa is. Well, I know! She was gobsmacked at how young she was too. I know that too! The kids seem to like her, which is always the litmus test in my opinion. Apparently they have been telling tales of their mad Aunt Vic. That will do my ego a power of good! Rah, rah, rah!

Only Jill really remembers Dad very well, Annabelle has vague recollections and Jeff can’t recall him at all. That will be a blow to his attempts to be the cool gramps. Ha ha ha. They have been spending their time since they landed in the pool! You have to in the summer, it can be scorchio!

Last night for Trevor tonight and he bought Loll a pressie. That is an unexpected bonus.

Tuesday Dec 16^th

Full Uni day, and without Felice I seemed to just drift about formlessly and without focus. I am loath to do anything new without her but it is boring as hell. However, I now have the cleanest and tidiest office on campus. Perhaps in the whole history of campuses?

Oh, the girl tutee who gave me the invite to Friday’s party came to apologise for the guy being a pillock with Laura. She found out from some of her friends and they were a bit scared because apparently it looked like I was getting ready to deck him. How observant her friends were. I was getting ready to do him serious personal injury. We had a really long chat about her life and how much she has enjoyed her first term. She really loves Sheffield and would love to stay after her degree. She was also very complimentary about me as a personal tutor. It seems her friends at other Unis have a similar system but their PT’s don’t do anything like I do. (Maybe I am doing it wrong?)

We lunched at Lokanta for the last time this year, although it was much busier than usual. We have been such regulars this semester the waiter found us a table almost at once. We had the lunch special (as usual) and afterwards had a steady wander back through the shops on Broomhill, then back down to Uni. Loll has a couple of lectures, still, but I just messed about really.

Olivia had her final lesson tonight and still can’t get head round how long our holidays are compared to school ones! I gave her a past exam paper to attempt over Christmas, which was not a good idea, you could tell. Still, I explained she could do it on the nights we were still in Cumbria when she would have her lesson. Sadly her Mum thought that was good idea. Oh dear. How to make friends and influence people, or what?

Wednesday 17^th December.

Secret Santa Day at XXX & Y. My miniature whisky and pair of engraved glasses went down a treat. I was given a personal teapot, with stand and built in infuser with two large cups. This means I will be able to have leaf tea at work instead of bags. They really must have asked about me before shopping. It is a brilliant pressie. Sadly I hadn’t got any leaf tea with me to try it out, so I will have to wait until we get back in January.

Christopher came down with a top-up of his Mum’s Mince pies, which was unexpected but very sweet. My favourite barrister threw a spanner in our end of season works by inviting me and Laura to a soiree at hers tomorrow night. We had to do some frantic calling to try and swap Sally and Jenny-Leigh to this evening. Luckily we were able to do so. Bobbi has doubled up with Sally so many times this year they must be used to it by now.

The evening went pretty well and all three pupils were given past papers to tide them over the gap between their start of the new term and our return. It seems that in future the lesson will coincide with University semesters anyway so that the student doesn’t have to stay on beyond the end of their session. It is only because we started later that the lessons, owing to the police checks, haven’t quite matched up.

Thursday 18^th December.

The soiree was quite select and with only Laura and me from our chambers. The rest were people of MFB’s acquaintance, from all works of life. (OK, there were no dockers.) We had a great evening once I realised that dress casually means something different to people whose salary is four or five times that of mine. Laura went for her red tulip dress. She looks like sex on legs in it and I had to eat her a little before we left, as it makes me want her so much when she’s in it. I think she sort of knew as when I raised the hem I discovered she had no underwear on. “Do you know, you have done this the last five times I have worn this dress?” was her comment before my tongue brought forth a different sort of expression from her.

We agreed that she wouldn’t reciprocate yet, but if an opportunity arose at MFB’s we’d take it! I love it when she enters the spirit of sexual anarchy with me. [Who would have thought that less than two years ago she was a virgin? Technically, I suppose she still is!]

I went in my Mondrian leggings and a crop top under Dad’s leather biker jacket but when we arrived I saw this would be far too casual so I made a swift exit to the little girls’ room and changed into my multi-purpose black dress. It is a ruched fabric and so doesn’t show any creases. My FB said, “Weren’t you in leggings a moment ago?” I had to agree, but explained about my emergency standby outfit. She thought it was a hoot. We had a closer look at the fabric and she asked where it came from. That is the damning thing about this dress, I haven’t a clue where I got it. I know it was somewhere in London when Rick and I went shopping once but I couldn’t tell you which shop under pain of death. It is fairly loose fitting with an elasticated waist and round neckline. There are vague, flower shaped splodges on it, in purple, pink and silver.

There were eleven of us assembled and we had a sort of hot buffet followed by a selection of desserts. There would have been enough for double the number. It was hard to tell what everyone did for a living as all MFB did was introduce each other by name and that was all. No explanation of their profession or how she knew them.

I did recognise Adriana after we were introduced but as she had dyed and restyle her hair I was surprised as she looked so different (she is one of MFB’s clients). There was also a person who claimed to be an agent for a local MP who looked like a stuffed shirt but was amusing about life around Westminster.

We gossiped and joked and chattered and all we all got on like a house on fire. It was a really pleasant way to round off our week at work. One thing we did discover was that none of the assemble throng were spending Christmas at home. That must be unusual in itself. The destinations were many and varied. Three were ski-ing somewhere, a handful were catching some winter sun near to or actually in the tropics and the other three were staying in the UK – in the Lake District; me & Laura and a guy who sounded as though he was a doctor, or involved in medicine in some way. It turned out he is a dentist and was staying at the George Hotel in Keswick.

It was quite a surprise to discover it was midnight. We left just before we all turned back into mice or pumpkins. I think the best part about the evening was the unexpected nature of it all, the invitation came out of the blue and we met some very interesting people whom we probably would never have encountered at all in our lives.

One small aside, Adriana asked me if I had done anything about the ‘business’. I told her I just couldn’t, even though I had rationalised it in my head, it still felt as though I’d be cheating. She asked if ever her clients wanted a three way with her, would I like to be the second woman. I told her I would give it serious thought. I think the answer is going to be thanks, but no thanks.

Rescuing Laura and a Hobbitathon!

Friday December 12^th.

Maybe it was a mistake attending the party tonight. Or was it just the clothes we wore that was the problem? Laura decided, with my encouragement, to wear one of her buttock skimming dresses and I went in a trouser suit that simply screamed “Dyke!”. This wasn’t a problem for most of the evening. We arrived fashionably late – 10pm and we introduced to those in the room already, which was unusual for a student party, from my recollection.

By around midnight there wouldn’t have been the chance to introduce anyone to anybody else, the whole house was heaving. Laura had wandered off somewhere and I was engaged in a chat with a couple about Pompeii and the finds there. It wasn’t raucous or out of hand but there were far more people around than I would have felt comfortable with, if it had been a party at my house. I had been given scraps of paper with mobile phone numbers and e-mail addresses most of the night (I stuffed them into my jacket’s top pocket). I just smiled at the giver and put them away. I didn’t offer anyone my own in reciprocation, which [you’d have thought] might have told them all something, wouldn’t you?

Laura and I had decided to mingle and I ended up chatting to loads of different undergraduates, all of whom seemed very young and very naïve. Maybe I am getting old. I found Loll after a while and refilled her drink [I was driving and so was on juice or anything non-alcoholic I could find]. I wandered back to the kitchen and got involved in a discussion about the merits of reducing the drink drive limit to zero. This was with a group of students who obviously had never been behind the wheel of a car. Their views were zealous, forthright and wrong! I asked them several questions and it was patently clear none of them knew the first thing about how alcohol makes you think you are OK when in fact you aren’t at all. Some of them didn’t even know why a car full of people is more dangerous for a novice driver than drinking.

I had to explain the altered steering dynamics of a full car and how it would perform in the same way as just a car and one driver. That was why there were lots of fatalities in situations where the car was full of people, especially young people! It was due to the increased inertia in the vehicle, which caused all sorts of unforeseen problems for a new driver which they would never have encountered or even been taught.

It was at this point I got a text from Loll with just “!” as the message. This was one of our quick instant messages and it means she needs me. I went back into the main room, but she wasn’t there. After wandering a bit I finally tracked her down in another room which was half full of people and may have been a dining room She was sort of in a corner, with a bloke standing in front of her. He had his arm out and was blocking her way out of the space. As I watched she tried to move out of his reach but he moved his arm a bit which meant she’d have to touch him to move or stay where she was.

She caught my eye and did they eye roll into the top of her head, which let me know she was alright but would appreciate some help getting away from this drongo.

I cheerfully, and in mock innocence walked across to where they were, and said, “Ah, there you are. It’s time we were going…”

The drongo came back with, “No she doesn’t. She and I are having a little talk, so run along and leave us alone.”

I asked her, again with fake naivety, “Do you want to stay or are you ready to go?”

She said, “I think it is time for us to go, yes.”

I muscled past the idiot’s arm, took Loll’s out stretched hand and we attempted to move away.

“Bugger off, bitch! She is staying here. She and I are getting to know each other…”

“You heard her, she wants to leave so we are going! Goodnight.” I pushed his arm away again and stood aside in front of him to let Laura pass.

“Not so fast, you cow. She and I haven’t finished.”

I wasn’t sure what to do next but Laura took over the situation, “Yes, we have you fucking halfwit. Actually, compared to you a halfwit would be gifted. If you were the last man on the planet I would kill myself rather than having anything to do you. But for her, I would do anything…” She turned back to me and kissed me hard and passionately for what seemed like forever, but was probably only about twenty seconds. “It is scum like you which make me so pleased I am a lesbian.” She linked her arm through mine and we walked out through the doorway.

Through the open door I hear a male voice say, “Ha ha, Andy. She had you pegged right didn’t she? Bloody gorgeous and a lemon, eh? You’d never have guessed.”

We strolled out through the kitchen door and on to the back lane where I had parked up a few hours earlier. As we sat in the car I said, “OMG I am so bloody horny. I can’t wait to get you back home, my lass.” She told me to drive and she would help me out on the way.

I once gave Richard a blowjob while he was driving and he was so turned on but nervous as hell that he would crash as he couldn’t concentrate properly. He pulled up at the kerbside, abruptly, as he started to fire his load into my mouth and then he needed a couple of minutes to recover before he drove on again. I had to do a swift stop just opposite the Middlewood park and ride carpark for a similar reason. I couldn’t concentrate as the orgasm her fingers had produced washed through me.

Callie was surprised to be ignored as we burst into the kitchen [a few minutes later] but I think she has witnessed what followed so many times now, not to be phased by it at all. She has also got used to a short wander round the back field if her mum has been busy making those squealing noises. We slept though until 9 am, even Callie!

Saturday 13^th Dec.

Lying in bed this morning, Laura asked what I’d have done if that drongo, last night, had turned violent. I told her I would have hit him with the ball of my palm, square on the end of his nose, with as much force as I could. She wanted to know if it would have been effective. I explained that for me, who has a relatively slight punch in comparison to a guy, it would have done the trick but if a muscular bloke did it, there was a chance the breaking nose bone could enter the skull and cause death. We had been shown how to do it as a last resort during our self-defence classes. It always breaks the nose and usually produces a lot of blood. Apparently most people, when confronted with their own blood, tend to stop and try to deal with the blood. Kicking them in the goolies is good but sometimes may be not as effective as a bashed nose.

I was probably blustering again, but she does know I have broken a guy’s little fingers using one of the techniques we were taught so I think she accepted it. It would all have come down to what he did first. Another thing we were taught was; do not start anything, in a court of law that would count against you. If you react to defend yourself, 99 times out of 100, you’ll get away with it. I can break most holds but if he’d been lashing out I would have been under more of a threat. Fortunately, it didn’t happen.

We spent a lazy day having a “Hobbitathon” because I have booked tickets to see The Battle of Five Armies tomorrow and I thought we should refresh our memories of the (drastically revised) story. We watched film one after lunch and film two after our evening meal. They really are excellent and make a brilliant holiday advert for New Zealand, even if they take extra-ordinary liberties with Tolkien’s tale. I hated the way film two just stopped though, so I hope film three just starts from there and we don’t get a “Previously on…“ section first. That would be utterly tedious in the extreme.

As the day was unusually clear, we took Callie out after the first film, but only down the road a little, to Loxley Edge, in case the weather turned on us. It didn’t. So we walked the really long circuit and arrived back at the car park just as the light was fading. We did toy with the idea of having sex, there and then in the car, but despite the dry weather it was really quite cold and the inside of the car was freezing. We drove back home and indulged ourselves before the second film. (And after too!) 

Our Christmas card count has now reached 50. It is going to cost us a mint to post all our cards out! Phew. Still, it is nice to get them. There have been several smug and self-congratulatory letters in cards from my friends from Norwich and University. I toyed with the idea of putting one in my cards but I tend to just scribble a little note inside the card instead. This year I have been putting:

“Summer in Australia was brilliant! We actually found a lot of culture in WA (no not yogurts!). The PhD. Is progressing well; we are about halfway through our translations. Life with Laura is as blissful as I imagined. We do seem to be very busy though; work, tutoring, concerts and theatre (it works out at over 1 per week!) plus Rock climbing and fell walking, not to mention all the swimming! Have fun…”

That seems better than the never ending boasting I have been getting about their children or their holidays or how much they have spent on trivialities! Maybe I am being unfair, but have my friends always been slaves to mammon and materialism? I hope I am not as culpable. I don’t think so. I think my life has always been about experiencing things rather than owning them, so maybe that’s why I am not bothered about the things they have written about?

We decided we would spend the first weekend up in Cumbria watching the complete Lord of the Rings trilogy as Middle-Earth would still be fresh in our minds. All three copies are actually up there already in my bedroom at Dad’s but we’ll watch them on Dad’s ‘council house telly’ as it is about double the size of the one in my bedroom.

As we were out late last night I was nodding during Montalbano. I did make it to the end and then sleep walked Callie for her last walk of the day. I sort of thing Laura was planning on more nookie when I got back as she still had the bedroom light on and she was lying fast asleep next to one of our double enders. I decided if she woke up as I slipped into bed I’d go for it, she didn’t. (We used in in the morning instead!)

Sunday 14^th December.

Good seats, aisle seats, you feel you can rush out in an emergency. I always book aisle seats for most shows. It is awkward having to keep shuffling to let people past but I don’t feel enclosed or hemmed in. [This is the girl who has flown the world in economy class throughout her childhood!] Our aisle seats at the cinema were pretty comfy, they were arranged in such a way that if you slumped down in your seat, you still didn’t get the head of the person in front blocking your view. Oh why aren’t all theatre seats like this too?

The auditorium was about half to three quarters full, which wasn’t bad for a Sunday afternoon. I was expecting it to be heaving but it was quite OK. The performance time said 14.10 as I knew there would be at least 10 minutes of adverts and trailers, we strolled in at 14.20. We had another 8 minutes of bloody adverts! Arrrggghhh! I hate having to sit through all that shit.

The film did start exactly as it had ended, in a way, except it began even before the first film started!! Then it jumped back to Smaug flying to destroy Lake Town. I am not sure how long the film was but it held me gripped throughout. I was so entranced I forgot all about the huge packet of midget gems I had smuggled in to scoff.

Laura wanted to know if the Orc leader was in the original book when we had watched the first two films and I explained just how much wasn’t in Tolkien’s story. The love interest element wouldn’t even have been on JRR’s radar when he was writing the book. I bet her that Tauriel would die at the end of the story, so she would have her absence from the LOTR trilogy explained. She didn’t! I knew that Fili and Kili had to die in the film but they didn’t die defending Thorin as they had in the book. I explained that in order to avoid convoluted inheritance they were probably killed off by Tolkien to make Thorin’s succession less complicated, Ironfoot becomes ‘King Under The Mountain’ in the book, if the two had lived then Kili would have been the next king.

Despite all the changes it still had unity and it held together as a convincing narrative structure [although, Mr Jackson, why isn’t Tauriel in the LOTR?]. I can’t wait to see it again.

It was strange coming out of the cinema, so early in the afternoon, into darkness. We caught the tram back to Middlewood and then picked up Loll’s car to drive back home. Automatic ovens are brilliant inventions, our meat and potato pie was ready to scoff as we arrived, a bit earlier than we’d usually eat but we had been on a long journey and fought a very tiring battle against overwhelming odds!

As a footnote we had an answer machine message from Felice. She had arrived safely back in Arcachon and wanted me to lie for her if I was asked where she was at the faculty meeting next week. Could I say she was at the Modern Foreign Languages faculty meeting? She had already briefed Antoine to say she was at the History faculty meeting if her absence was noticed in MFL. She has a bloody cheek. The nice thing about it being an answer machine message was I didn’t have to say “Yes!”

I am now not only Jane Eyre and Lisbeth Salander I am also Silvan elf Tauriel too!

The Works Christmas Party

Monday December 8^th

An aalii is an Australian shrub, so you’d have thought Dad would have known my scrabble word was correct. If he hadn’t chuntered on so much I wouldn’t have used a variation of those words towards him this morning. He sulked. If you can picture a 61 year old sulking, he did that this morning. I was sort of worried that when we got back from worked he’d have trashed the house and left. Luckily he hadn’t. In fact he’d got a meal ready for us prior to our trip to the City Hall. If Fasta Pasta is my ‘go to’ dish, then his is Curry in a Hurry. I do a variation of it but it doesn’t taste quite the same as Dad’s in the same way that his FP doesn’t taste the same as mine.

Our day at work was much of a muchness, it seems that at both Uni and XXX & Y everyone is already thinking of Christmas. There is a wind down feeling in the air and yet we are still three weeks away from the modified Saturnalia festival. What is wrong with these people?

Felice is still here but she is definitely going back down to the south of France on Friday which makes me wonder if we ought to wander up Dad’s this coming weekend and stay there?  We did a fair amount of tech. stuff this morning with the casket as though Feli is making up for a tawdry effort earlier on so she can skip off. I may be unfair.

I told all my worries about Christmas spirit to Mrs Briggs and she thought it was endemic. Not just here but across the whole country. She was particularly scathing about lights outside houses, I had to agree I think they are, first of all, common as muck and secondly I have a feeling that these people are sort of accusing those who don’t put out any decorations as being Scrooges! I have no proof of that latter statement, of course, but that is way it seems to me. The way our society is going, we are becoming more like Germany after Hitler was pronounced Chancellor than good old tolerant UK. Mrs Briggs was critical of UKIP for this as they seem to have swapped blaming the Juden for Immigrants, but the next step down UKIP’s road is bound to be the final solution.

I told her my history teacher started her GCSE course with these two statements on the board: History Teaches Us Nothing. (because) People Are Stupid. She thought this was really funny and so true.

Dad’s choice of concert has to be the worst of all the ones I have been to this year. I suppose it is my own fault for believing Dad when he said they were really good, and I must remember them from when I was a toddler. Well, Durr Dad! I didn’t. If I had I would have declined your offer of tickets! I suppose it is different when you don’t wear the rose tinted specs of nostalgia. I thought even Louisa was getting fidgety at one point or that could just have been my new sister playing up!

OK, to be fair they were OK. They played some rousing enough and melodic enough tunes to raise a smile from time to time and I did remember a tune called Dignity. Otherwise I wouldn’t actually have had them on my list of things to see this year. It appeared not a lot of people did either as the Hall wasn’t exactly bursting at the seams. Still, bonding with your parent is always good regardless of the circumstances, so that’s all right then!

Trevor was very good about swapping his day to Tuesday so we could go and see Deacon Blue, he did say “Who?” in a really surprised voice apparently, which should have made the alarms bells ring.

Tuesday 9^th December.

Dad and Louisa had made us breakfast when we got back from the pool today, which was unexpected, but very nice. They were heading straight to Lancaster for the day as Dad was sorting stuff out and then on Friday Errol is driving them to the airport. Good old Errol, say I. It means the Aged P. hasn’t roped yours truly in for both airport journeys. Yes, that’s right, muggins here has said she’ll collect them when they get back. They fly back on the 12^th, too. So we’ll get about three and a half weeks at the house by ourselves, which isn’t too bad really. By January there should be some decent snow for sledging and the like.

We left at the same time as D & L and I know we got to our destination first! LOL A full library day for Laura and a full cache day for me, but with a little aside; we’ve found a locksmith who knows the lock on the casket and is able to replicate a key. That is pretty neat. It will mean the lock will need some oiling so there have been lengthy discussions on what we should do. In those days mineral oil was unheard of it was all vegetable or animal. The upshot is we are going to do some tests of all three kinds of oil first on some odds and sods of metal and wood from that period to see what effect it will have before going ahead.

Now call me cynical but I cannot see the point in this exercise. It sounds like conservation disappearing up its own rectum to me. Naturally I didn’t put it like that but I did ask what difference it would make what oil we used? The answer I received was long winded, obfuscatory and didn’t actually shed much light at all. My interpretation of the answer was, they didn’t know and although best evidence suggests there’ll be no problem they aren’t going to run the risk. It seems the buzz idea in conservation these days is we must only do something which can be easily reversed in case a better method of conservation is found in the future. Now call me Mrs Tine’s Daughter (Phyllis), but even without a degree in chemistry or conservation or talking gobbledy gook to confound the listener, I cannot see how any kind of oil would pose a threat. I suppose it means someone in authority’s backside is covered if it goes belly up!

Olivia as the same question as Trevor. Although to be fair, and not to diss Olivia, she does think One Direction are good. Teenagers, eh? Totally lacking any musical discernment at all. LOL

There is no point in railing on at me about my musical discernment as a teenager. I was already loving Beethoven’s Missa Solemnis at 13. So yah boo to you!

Olivia and Trevor weren’t affected by the let’s shirk it’s nearly Christmas bug and I got a lot done with Livvy, so much so that I am convinced she’ll do well in her GCSEs. It is way too early to let her sail solo yet but she will be fine by the time June comes round. Both she and Trev are amazed at how much time we get off at Christmas, so I kept quiet about the amount of ‘holidays’ we get throughout the year. It will only make them envious.

Wednesday 10^th Dec.

The buffet meal was more meal than buffet really. In a function room somewhere out Ecclesfield way. In fact it was very tastefully done and the disco bit was in another room through two sets of doors, so you can guess what happened… A hard-core group of disco enthusiasts decamped in there as soon as they had scoffed (not perhaps a good idea to shimmy round like that after cramming all that nosh down your neck) and the more discerning gannets stayed put to pick at the carcase of the buffet like a flock of vultures. You can have more sausages on sticks or salmon fancies after you have eaten your dessert. We proved it!

We circled some of the tables, like wagon trains against the red Indians and had a major gossipy, boozy, cat-calling chat. It was great fun. My partner and I don’t know all the people at work yet as they are so many of us all in the same building. The Scampi Tails are drawn from over four different departments, for example. But we all knew enough office intrigue to interest everyone else.

There was a minor embarrassing moment as a girl from accounts started recounting a tale about a love struck member of their team who was besotted with a former full-timer who had gone part-time to do a degree at the Uni. I let her warble on like this for a while before I piped up, “Actually, I know all about Christopher and his crush but we are OK about it now.” Ground swallowing time. Kate was quite upset that she’d been talking about one of us round the table, but I was cheered by three others saying, “We knew you were on about Chris and Maia, we just wanted so see how deep a hole you’d dig…”. I wandered round and sat next to her and assured her that I was fine with her tale as I had come to terms with it three years ago. I went to explain in details which she didn’t know how it had all come about.

She did ask why I had spurned his advances and I pointed out Laura at the other end of the corralled tables, sharing a giggle with Sumira and Anita. “She is why…”

“Do you mean that….” Unfinished question time.

“Yep, we’re a pair of lemons. Don’t fret though, I am not after a new partner. In fact, before Laura my partner was male…”

We then embarked on a long and detailed chat about sexuality and how she had always been intrigued but had never had the nerve to do anything… She moaned about the men in her life and how they were all so boringly, mind-bogglingly dull (and predicatble).

I told her that her New Year Resolution ought to be ‘giving lesbianism a chance’. All of my immediate colleagues knew, and my line manager (even Mr Carr. She gasped at that!) and none of them had a problem with it. In fact once they met the object of my desires (and lusts and fantasies and ….) they were all blown away by how unlike a stereotypical lesbian she is. We ended up engrossed for quite a while until someone suggested we ought to show our faces through in the disco bit.

Grudgingly I collected the blonde bombshell at the other end of the table and we trooped through into the other room. The noise was really over powering. I mean very very loud indeed. It had been loud at some of the concerts I have been to (with Dad) but this was off the scale. Plus the excuse for music that was being played was execrable. We made a show of shuffling around for a bit and smiling and nodding to other people. After about five or six tediously repetitive numbers I shouted in the Lollster’s ear, “Are you enjoying this?”

“Not really…” was her reply. I gestured back to the doors and we sidled off back to the buffet room. Judging by the activity in the disco itself that bit was proving quite popular and if you looked at the ones still in the buffet room you could discern a noticeable gender and age split. We were now back in a largely male and older demographic than next door. For some reason it made me feel incredibly old. We snagged some more drinks from the side table, free wine and beer here, spirits had to be bought at the bar two rooms in the opposite direction (and different beer and wine too if you wanted). As we sat down we were joined by Tim Carr. He pulled up a chair and asked if we had danced out, or were we refortifying ourselves for a fresh onslaught. We told him we had ‘danced out’ and that we suddenly felt really old. He said that it happens to us all, except my Dad, perhaps. We went into a detour about Dad & Louisa and how he was either having a midlife crisis or was in his second youth. They have known each other since Harrow, so I guess not much is off limits. I told him I didn’t think Dad had ever left his first youth and that was probably why he and Mum had split up.

He asked what she thought of the new impending arrival. I answered honestly when I said she was shocked at first and then pleased for Louisa. I didn’t tell him she’d also said, “It means he’ll probably stick around until it’s 16 at least. That’s what he did for you!”  That is one of the most hateful things I have heard Mum say about Dad. She usually never lets her old emotions surface. I know enough not to ask questions when she says things like that, it makes her clam up. An encouraging or sympathetic grunt can often provoke even more revelations. We did have a big chat about it in Australia when we got sozzled at Margaret River. That was a wonderful night as I got to know more about what Mum really felt about things than I have before.

Even Mr Carr rolled his eyes upwards when I said Dad had gone to see Deacon Blue on Monday. He asked “Why?” with such feeling I just had to laugh in agreement.

He finally wobbled away to the next table and Loll and I decided that discretion was the better part of Valerie and we snuck off into the night. This was after I had the presence of mind to order a taxi for us; there were some benefits to the venue being in Ecclesfield. It was only two miles and £10 for us to get back home. The taxi driver disputed where we lived saying he had never seen our house number on Tractor Lane. I pointed out we were on the little private road off to the left, up the hill. He then wanted to drive along it to drop us at our door, I had to tell him it would be easier if the dropped as the end because if everyone is in, their cars would line the lane and there would be no place to turn round so he’d have to back out, about 80 yards on to the road again. He did as we asked.

When I took Callie for her last walk, in my party frock but with trainers and a duvet coat on, he was still sitting in his taxi, pointing back down-hill. He wound down the window and joked about my attire. As if on cue Callie jumped up at the door, put her front paws on the open window frame and licked him! I have never seen her do that before ever. She gave his cheek and ear a swift swipe. I don’t think he was amused. I was though!

Thursday 11^th December.

I think that parties mid-week are not a good idea for some people. We met several at XXX & Y when we arrived after Uni this arvo who still looked a bit worse for wear. This didn’t happen after we went to the theatre last year. LOL

Today was business as usual for the two blondes from up north, we hadn't drunk to excess and were bright eyed and bushy tailed and quite probably annoying as hell. I guess that is always the way when you've stayed relatively sober and others haven't. To be honest I have seen the phenomenon from both sides and I certainly know which of the two I prefer!

Plus staying sober means you don't wake up with a sore vagina and half of the campus football team lying next to you in bed! Not as though that has happened to me, you understand.

Jenny-Leigh, Sally and Bobbi all put in sterling work this evening and we got Christmas cards from all three of them, bless! The amount of trouble they had spelling my name was a joy to behold, I was a Mia, a Maya and a Maja (no idea of the provenance of the last one). It does sort out the Classicists from the common herd, I have discovered. Even little Laura didn't know how to spell it, but she had the nonce to ask.

A parcel from Aus. should have arrived by now, according to an e-mail from my sister. I will Skype her in the morning and see what's afoot. Assuming she isn't working afters this week, that is.

We spent a lazy relaxed post lesson chill out, just having a cuddle on the sofa and listening to Dad's burned The Endless River again. It actually isn't as mindlessly noodley as I first thought. It is good to snuggle up to. Laura decided that it would be good to make love to, so we got heavily into that just as it finished. She moaned that was just typical of men, giving up before the climax! We just giggled for ages.

Then continued where we had left off, with the same CD left on repeat...

Aalii as a scrabble word? You bet!

Friday December 5^th

One of those ‘where did it go?’ days, today. We followed the usual routines, walk, swim, breakfast, Uni etc and it seemed to fly past.

We helped it at lunch time by strolling down to the Millennium Gallery to look at the Handmade for Christmas Sheffield exhibition. It wasn’t exactly what I expected. I thought it would be a look at the things being manufactured in Sheffield but it was a shopping exhibit. Having said that, there were some gorgeous things for sale in there with a huge variation in prices.

I found a gorgeous make-up bag thing which was about the size of one of those old cylindrical pencil cases you used to get in school, but was full of zips and pockets and the like. I was very tempted to buy it. Until I saw it was £45! The tag had a web-address attached which I noted down. Back in Uni I was able to discover not only was it the maker’s website, selling more hand-made bags, there was also a link to buy the pattern for the make-up bag. Not being one to shirk a challenge I have ordered a pattern. It is about time my Janome sewing machine began to earn its keep again.

The beauty of the bag is you can make them out of a multitude of fabric scraps rather than having them all the same material, so that should make it a lot cheaper to buy. All I have to do now is wait for it to arrive.

I phoned Mum after work to let her know Dad & Louisa were coming down on Sunday. She likes to know these things so she doesn’t turn up and find them at my house. Awkwardness has followed such a chance encounter. She knows I am house sitting for Dad at Christmas and we think it would be a wonderful ruse if Mum and Gran came across as well, while Dad & Louisa are in Australia. Dad has always let me invite guests to stay, so why not my Mum and Gran? She thought it was a great idea and she is going to Skype Gran this evening to ask what she thinks.

We discussed the tree decorations and arranged to swap colours again. Last year I had red, gold and green and Mum had blue, silver and clear; this year we’ll swap our boxes so we each get the others colours. It is a neat arrangement and avoids masses of boxes needing to be stored. Steve has told me to expect a Christmas tree on Saturday morning so we’ll have to think of a method of making it stand up! I am not going to dress it until Sunday as I have invited Dad & Louisa to help. Well, it seemed like a nice thing to do.

Looking out my bauble boxes from the under-eaves storage I rummaged in my material trunk, this fits in front of the under-eaves access door, hiding it from view. It is full of off cuts of material I have accumulated over the years. I don’t know why exactly but it seemed like a good thing to do. I should have enough scraps in there to make at least 10 of these bags if I wish. I think I may make it a house sitting project at Dad’s. He has enough space for me to spread my stuff out and to leave it out, so I can just come back when I feel like it. Laura has said we could make a production line, she does the cutting out and I do the sewing. I will need to visit Fun2do Carlisle to buy hundreds of zips, first.

Saturday 6^th December.

I get up pretty early to walk Callie. I am usually out of the back door and through my conservatory at 6am, or just before. This morning a large, green, netting sausage was leaning against my gate. The Christmas tree! God knows when Steve put it there, but I am very impressed. I stood it on the stump and it seems to be just about as tall as me and I am 5’ 7. I have already worked out how to stand it up. I have some pieces of five eights ply wood in the shed. No Idea why I have it, but never mind. If I saw the stump of the tree off level, I can fasten a disc of this plywood to the bottom and then place it in my zinc bucket, which I will fill with gravel. I have a few spare bags of that for the front drive. (It’s my OCD, don’t worry about it!) This will be this morning’s project.

Funny thing on the walk today, which shows how much of a people dog Callie is. Every morning (or most mornings) I pass a woman (girl probably) in a high-vis jacket coming out of a drive and walking towards the main road to catch the bus to work. This is usually just as I am heading back home along our little cul-de-sac. I think she works at a Nursery in the City as in the summer she was wearing a polo shirt with a nursery name embroidered on the front.

We pass a few words and she always stokes Callie’s head. If Callie spots her first, she’ll run on ahead doing her doggy squeal of excitement (it is a weird noise she makes!). This morning, coming out of Bernard Road was a guy (who I have never seen before) with two dogs on leads (bitzers) heading towards me and Callie. I was just about to call her to heel when she took off! Bloody disobedient dog, although as I hadn’t given a command that doesn’t really work, does it?

She got half way towards the dogs and then saw the girl in the high-vis jacket leaving her house. It was as though I could actually see the thought process going through Callie’s head. She stopped dead, like she does when she’s scented something out shooting, she looked at the girl, looked at the man with the dogs, looked at me and made a bee-line for girl. When she got to her the girl did her usual scratching of Callie’s head whilst the man with dogs walked on up the hill ignored. I asked her if she felt honoured. She asked why? I told her that faced with a decision between her and the two unknown dogs, Callie had chosen her.

That might tell you something about dogs’ psyche, or it might tell you something about Weimaraners or even something about how I have trained Callie. It was strange to watch her have to make a choice between a human or a dog and she chose a human!

Back home Laura said, “She just likes having her head scratched, don’t you girl?” To which Callie wobbled over and allowed Laura to scratch her head as if to prove a point.

We had our swim, breakfast and read of the morning papers before I finally got round to dealing with the Christmas tree. I decided to leave it in its net to make it easier to handle, and Loll helped me cart it down to the shed to have its stump cut. It hardly needed a cut. The chopping down had been done almost at 90 degrees to the trunk. I measured the base of the zinc bucket. Found a smallish piece of the ply wood and drew on the circle on to it, after measuring again just to make sure I was correct. A swift hole drilled through the centre of the wood and a smaller one in the trunk of the tree allowed the two items to be fastened together with the longest countersunk headed screw I could find in my tool box. (Yes I have a tool box. Who else is going to do stuff when you are single and a homeowner? So I got myself sorted.)

Without the net removed, it stood up fine by itself but I wasn’t planning on having it fall over in the lounge fully bedecked, so we hoicked it back into the conservatory, placed it in the bucket and I emptied a bag of gravel over my handiwork. “Job’s a good un” – as my Dad would say. We left it netted in there for the time being.

Mum arrived at about 12.30 with her box of baubles, so I carried mine out to her car. She stayed for a cuppa and one of Christopher’s Mum’s mince pies. She had two cups and three mince pies and talked us into going over to Wentworth Garden Centre to look for some new light for her tree! This was foolish. It was packed! You could tell it was going to be busy by the queue for the car park! We elbowed our way through the teeming hordes and Mum did find some lights she liked. We then walked around the craft section of the garden centre; this is a series of small buildings turned into little workshops and shops. There must be about 20 there altogether. Guess what? I found another woman selling bags similar to the ones at the Handmade for Christmas exhibition. Hers were £35 which is still a lot of money.

In order to stop Mum spending £35, I promised to make her one when my pattern arrived. So, I have to make some now, or else…

Back home we had a swiftly prepared mid-afternoon lunch type meal and Mum whizzed off back to Holmesfield all set to decorate her tree in red, gold and green with some new lights. She and Gran think going to Dad’s for New Year is a great idea and they are all for it. Mum will drive up to Hawick to collect Gran on the 30^th and they will drive straight across to Tallentire. I mean, what is the worst that can happen?

Spent some time re-arranging the lounge to take the Christmas tree. Not a long job really, as I have a minimalist approach to furniture and clutter. It is now in its place ready for the aged parent’s visit and tree decoration.

Sunday December 7^th

Up and out before dawn with Callie. I am so glad the shortest day will soon be here and it will gradually become lighter again in the mornings. I don’t think I suffer from SAD but I do prefer it to be light when I walk the woofie in the mornings. I don’t think she cares so long as she is out, with me, in the open air.

After a leisurely breakfast I was all prepared for Dad and Louisa to roll up at around lunch time. To that end I put a ham in to boil for lunch and our evening meal and it had only been bubbling away for about half an hour when the aforementioned aged-parent and step-mother arrived on our door step. 10.45. They must’ve been up with the larks too.

After a reviving cup of tea and a bit of a natter, Dad and Laura decamped to the lounge to decorate the tree whilst Louisa and I set to on prepping the veggies for lunch. I always do a mountain of vegetables with our meals. They are good for you and I like them. Today I had broccoli and cauliflower in the steamer, with mange tout below and carrots and peas in the bottom layer. I had potatoes ready for mash, a pan of savoy cabbage and some leeks set to go in the microwave. My plan was we’d eat the ham, hot with pineapple, and then in the evening we’d have it cold with a bubble and squeak made from the left over veggies. It was a big enough ham that with judicious carving (I would defer to Dad, even though I am adept enough myself) we’d have enough to fill our sangers for Monday’s lunch.

By the time we had chopped and sliced and en-panned the assortment of greenery for lunch the Lollster and Dad had decked the tree with all our baubles, lights and tinsel. All that was needed was the grand switch on. Rah rah rah. It does look lovely. 

Dad disappeared for a moment and came back with a medium sized cardboard box. He told me he’d bought it to go in my conservatory, so I would at least have a token gesture of outside lights showing for the festive season. I could have hit him. He knows I hate all that ostentatious display of how full of the Christmas Spirit a house is by the number of gaudy and tacky lights strung up outside. It turned out that in the box was a 3 foot Christmas three with fibre optic lights at the end of each of the branches. Tacky it wasn’t, actually. It also did look lovely on the rattan and glass table in the conservatory. I know I will get remarks from the neighbours but it looks very cute. It is relaxing to watch it change colour.

After lunch, which we only half demolished, I asked if they wanted to go for a stroll. Nothing strenuous for Louisa. They agreed and I took them over to Burbage and we walked along the edge where Laura and I regularly rock climb. It was only a brief walk and the wind was whipping at us quite cruelly. There was no snow yet on any of the tops, which was a disappointment. Dad said there was a dusting on the giants as they drove through the Lakes on their way down. That’s something to look forward to when we are house sitting.

Dad cooked the bubble and squeak and Laura was his sous-chef for the evening. We finished with some apple scones I had baked which were really much nicer than I imagined they’d be. Dad played scrabble against me whilst Loll and Louisa sat and gossiped about the new arrival. For someone who has sworn she isn’t ever having one of those ‘boody things’ inside her, she seemed quite animated.

Dad was annoyed with aalii in my final go at our game, but had to concede it was in the Official Scrabble Words book so he had to concede defeat. It was a pretty poor game though, no seven letter words at all. We had the new Pink Floyd album Dad had sent me playing in the background and, even though I am still of the opinion the bleeding river is endless, it was a good background to our game. He rummage through my storage system for another CD he had burned and told me this was the album which he’d been playing all the time after I’d been born, so he thought of it as my album. The Division Bell. Now that is much better than The Endless River IMHO. Dad and I have agreed to differ.  

Endometrial synchronicity?

Monday 1^st December.

Well, less than a month to go. This Sunday, I suppose, we’ll be putting out the decorations and the tree, being the second Sunday in Advent. That is when we always used to get the decorations out at home. Dad is doing his too but not until after next weekend as he’ll be with us on that Sunday because he is going to see Deacon Blue at the City Hall on the following Monday night. He is going to leave his house decorated, as when he went away for Christmas once before, with me in charge, he didn’t bother. So I bent his ear about it. I have promised to take anything down carefully and if he leaves the boxes in the garage, I will pack it all away carefully.

At work this morning we had a revelation. The missing papers have finally turned up. They were underneath some French Faculty papers in a French Faculty box file in Felice’s office. I knew I hadn’t had anything to do with their disappearance but I got the impression out Gallic friend was hinting I may have tidied them up as part of my OCD.

This is such good news I was even prepared to overlook the imagined slight!

Our work party is scheduled for a week on Wednesday and I am having second thoughts already. I mean do I really want to go to a disco and buffet? I think not. I much preferred the previous years’ events where we went to a show at the theatre and then those who wished went on clubbing afterwards. It seems we are being held hostages to fortune this way. I suppose the thought of seeing a Soap ‘Star’ in the pantomime or watching ’Anything Goes’ was a bit of a Hobson’s choice for everybody really. In fact I think the current proposal is actually worse.

The City Hall’s Christmas Concert with the Black Dyke Mills band cut no mustard either. Nor did the Remember When at Christmas either. So we have settled on something even worse.

Trevor arrived with his Mum in tow tonight for his penultimate lesson with Laura. We had been brought a present. Trevor’s Mum was surprised that we hadn’t got any decs up yet. They have had theirs up since mid-November! Well, I had to bite my tongue. I almost said, “We aren’t that Chavvy!” Phew. We put the gift wrapped box on the small table where we locate the Christmas Tree and assured her it would be there by next Monday.

Currently all our pressies are in a pile of carrier bags in the second bedroom, so we need to get the tree up on Sunday or there’ll be no room for Dad and Louisa in that room! We don’t actually have a tree yet. Steve is bringing us a real one on Thursday.

Tuesday 2^nd December.

A full day at Uni and already some of the undergrads are in party mood. The semester ends two weeks on Friday but I guess after the weekend of the 12^th it will begin to resemble the Marie Celeste around campus again. It did last year.

I got an invitation to a Christmas Party from one of my pastoral group today, which was nice of her. It is for Friday 12^th. I am not sure if we will turn up but we’ll see. It is their ‘house’ having the do, which can spell chaos. I have been there and done that and had to fetch the emergency glazier to prove it. Some drongo at one of our parties in Cambridge fell through our kitchen window! Can you believe it? The window glass was sound, as far as we were aware. He said he’d just leant against the glass and the next thing he knew he was in the back yard on a heap of bin bags with splinters of glass all around him.  This was one of the first manifestations of my DIY prowess, as Rick was several bottles ahead of me already, he was in no fit state to do anything about it.

I recalled there was some ply wood in the garden shed, so I measured up the window gap and in my party frock and high heels, went into the shed, measured up the wood and cut it out. I was all set to whack it into the frame with a hammer and some long panel pins when I was relieved of the task by a couple of Rick’s friends who weren’t as pissed as he. The two guys found it amusing as hell, that I had been busy with an electric jigsaw at two in the morning dressed up the nines! But the wood fitted perfectly into the gap and the two of them were able to fasten it in place. They even spent a few minutes removing the shards of glass from the frame before they put the wood into place and then picked up the glass from outside too. I gave them a kiss each as their reward. (One of the cheeky buggers fondled my bum in the process!)

I have always been a handy little soul. I was taught to sew (by Mum & Gran) when I was little and Dad showed me how to use some of his wood work stuff. I wanted to make a Noah’s Ark for church when I was about 6 or 7. He tried to fob me off with carving the animals out of balsa wood but I was having none of it! I found plans for a toy ark in the local toyshop and I saved up to buy what I needed, Mum matched my money, and when I had got the stuff together Dad and I built an ark which looked like all the biblical pictures of one. I painted it bright blue with a green deck and roof and red cabin. I even put a black plimsoll line around the bottom. I was really proud of that silly little boat.

I eventually made some animals but I used Dad’s bench top jig saw and they were just flat sided ones. There never were giraffes on my ark as I had an accident with their necks! They ended up as donkeys instead. It is ages since I have even thought about this. I assume it has long been washed up on the church equivalent of Mount Ararat. LOL

Felice and I spent a full day of uninterrupted work on the cache today. This feels like the first time we’ve done so for ages. It was good to get stuck in and work together. We finished the day with a warm satisfied glow each and a feeling of a job going well.

Olivia was a much happier bunny tonight too. She is looking forward to the Christmas hols and they are getting an enormous amount of time off. They break up on the 18^th and don’t go back until the 6^th of January. Phew. That’s nearly as long as we get.

Wednesday 3^rd December

I was almost run over by a car this morning as I walked Callie! We had done the long walk through Hill Top Woods and then onto Lumb Lane. I stopped at the bench by the grit bin, like I often do, to look at the twinkling lights of the city away to the right shimmering in the distance. When this drongo came whizzing down the lane and almost missed the corner. He drove along the grass by the seat and narrowly missed that too. If I had been standing where I was when I heard it approach I would have needed to jump out of its way! I have no idea why he was so careless, the road wasn’t icy or anything. It wasn’t a local plate on the van though and at that point Lumb Lane does turn through 90 degrees with no chevron markers to illustrate how sharp a bend it is.

The rest of the day was singularly lacking in near death experiences, thank goodness. Not that I wanted any, you understand. We did a lot more work together this morning and this arvo I was back putting the old paper files onto the computer system once more.

We have to have our Secret Santa gifts ready for next Wednesday, apparently. I have a male to buy for. I have already bought a boxed miniature of Glenfiddich Malt Whisky with two glasses etched with the Glenfiddich logo on them. I think that should be a suitable gift for a man. I bought Dad something similar years ago and he still uses the glasses for his whisky today. That was Laphroaig Whisky, though, which is one of his favourites. I find it way too peaty for my taste. It also came with four glasses rather than two.

Christopher came down to ARR mid-afternoon and handed me a Christmas card, a box of his Mum’s mince pies and an invitation to a New Year’s party they are having. I think he was disappointed when I told him we were house sitting for Dad over the holidays. I don’t think he is still holding a candle for me. He would be a bloody fool if he is. I kissed him on the cheek and he did blush really deep red, though.

It was just Bobbi tonight, our student for Laura, so I am getting my head round an embroidery style from Japan called Yubinuki. I think it is a term for a kind of thimble with geometric patterns on them, in silk thread. I call them thimbles but they look more like rings. I have been watching a couple of tutorial videos and have ordered a book from a lady who teaches the technique in Japan. I have a feeling the book will be all in Japanese. I may need a swift visit to the language faculty to find someone to help translate it. The tutorial shows you how to go from a set of raw materials to the complete finished item. Tonight I had a go at making the inner part of the ring, with card, wadding and cloth.

My third one looks about the best of the bunch. It isn’t fiddly it is just awkward. The stitching looks to be tiny. Working out the stitch count for each one is going to be a challenge.  You have to decide which finger the thimble will fit and then it becomes bespoke for that finger. They rest between the first and second joint of the finger (looking from the finger tip). I think I will be loath to use on as a thimble when it is finished!

Thursday December 4^th.

Still felt nervous this morning about the lecture, but once again I was just borrowing trouble. It went really well, I had masses of questions at the end of the session, which was unusual. Normally there is just a handful but I must have had over a dozen today. I wonder if they’d put up to it? Thinking that way leads to madness.

We had lunch in Lokanta as a mini-celebration. They are all over until next year. Rah rah rah! I had the special lunch which is always amazing.

Loll and I had a long talk about her car and we have decided it is a bit of a pointless item down here. When we go up to Dad’s to house sit, she is going to drive it back up to Cumbria and leave it at her Mum and Dad’s. That way it can be kept in their garage and avoid the nasty weather. It will still be there if and when she needs it and that may be required next summer after she graduates. That is a hurdle to cross nearer the time. She hasn’t got anything sorted yet but she has sent off around twenty applications to firms in Sheffield and within a 20 mile radius, so we’ll have to see what happens. Most are jobs involving maths in some way or another. She has even been talking about doing a PGCE and going into teaching! Arrrggghhhh! I have spoken to Mum about this (on the phone) and she is prepared to do her best to put her off the idea.

Work at XXX & Y continues much as before. Mrs Briggs is surprised at the lack of Christmas events we have planned but she didn’t know about Dad’s house sitting. I invited her and her significant other to come up after New Year if she wanted but she is having a fortnight of avoiding winter in the Canary Islands! That sounds like a good plan. I imagine next Christmas will be at Dad’s again but with their new daughter having her first Christmas; that is something I don’t want to miss. I would even bet he invites Phil, Jane and Family to stay too. It would be the sort of thing he does.

Jenny-Leigh and Sally came for their lessons as per usual. I can’t see why J-L needs to come for extra classes at all. I said the same thing about Olivia too. Maybe they are being less open with their teachers than they are with me. But each of them is coping easily with the stuff we’ve been doing (all provided courtesy of Mum and her old teaching resources). I will have a chat with J-L’s Mum in the New Year and see if there is an underlying reason why she thinks she needs extra help. I guess it could be a clash of personalities having a negative effect on them both. When I think back to my school days there was one teacher who seemed to go out of her way to be unpleasant towards me. I hadn’t done anything wrong, as far as I knew. It appeared my only crime was being the daughter of the Head of English. This is probably the reason why I hated Physics even though I loved Chemistry.

There was just a little bit of rain for Callie’s stroll tonight, so we did the toddle round the back field instead of a long walk through the woods. We surprised a fox! Well, I did. Luckily Callie didn’t see it, when I caught it in the torch beam. It scurried off up the hill and I lost it pretty quickly. As we continued round the field you could smell where it had been though, that pungent, acrid fox aroma was quite noticeable.  

Once again our bodies have synchronised themselves to reline our endometria at the same time. It is getting quite weirdly funny. I have read about it happening in Convents and other places where women congregate together, but two women living with each other? Should I contact someone at Uni to do a study? LOL

Cinderella, the Halle and E1 Rock climbing in the same weekend.

Friday November 28^th

When I was a wee lassie, in Norwich, my Mum took me to see a version of Cinderella [The Ballet] at the local theatre. I remembered the Cinderella story from having seen it as a pantomime a few years earlier so I knew what to expect but for a time afterwards being a Prima Ballerina was my heartfelt ambition.

Today we saw the Northern Ballet’s version of the same story at the Lyceum Theatre in Sheffield. It was so different from the version I had stored in the back of my mind but equally as enthralling and I wouldn’t mind betting there were plenty of little girls who went home afterwards also wishing to be Prima Ballerinas.

My Mum, Mrs Briggs, Laura and I rendez-voused in the bar before the show and I imparted what may have been unwelcome news, the music for tonight’s show wouldn’t be the Prokofiev we all knew and loved but a new score written by a chap called Feeney. Apparently he is a ‘go to’ writer of scores for ballet and dance companies so we sort of knew it wouldn’t be avant garde or left field music. The pair of us (Laura and me, that is) had been to a concert of the Prokofiev in September at the City Hall, so the ‘old’ music was fresh in our minds.  

Once again the old theatre was heaving, and there were a fair few children (mainly girls) in the audience. We needn’t have been concerned about the new tunes, the score was lyrical and empathetic and a bit old fashioned in places. The set was brilliant, simple and very effective – especially Cinderella’s kitchen with its huge range and stack of pans over it.

Some liberties were taken with the story. Cindy’s Dad is killed near the start as a result of her actions. Why? Was my thought, couldn’t it have been enough that the step-mum was wicked? In this scene Cindy actually meets the Prince for the first time, although she is meant to be a child.

There was a lot of magic and sparkle in the show. (No I don’t mean a Marks and Spencer’s advert). There was one scene where Cindy goes to the town and encounters a circus. There were tumblers and stilt walkers and a magician doing tricks. In a clever twist the magician turns up later to send Cindy to the ball. The transformation is very clever and eschews the pumpkin and mice scenario altogether. The sleigh, not carriage, is pulled by huge dogs. I suppose they were meant to be huskies.

The rest of the story unfolds as normal until almost near the end when the Prince, having discovered that Cindy is the owner of the slipper, rejects her as she seems to be a scullery maid. I was really disappointed by this idea as it seemed to suggest that the Prince didn’t really love Cindy for herself but was just as shallow and superficial as most men. The reconciliation had to happen, obviously, or the story would have been ruined but for me that silly extra twist ruined it anyway. In my mind the couple weren’t going to live a happy ever after fairy tale life. Impending divorce was already hanging over them.

My Mum said I was just being a cynic. But she, too, found the rejection idea a bad one. I tried to ask myself why did the choreographer do it? However, rack my brains as I might, I cannot see any sensible narrative reason for them to have that scene at all. Was the dance run-time too short and they needed an extra five minutes?

Despite this terrible flaw in the story, the overall impression was of inventive choreography (the ice skating scene, for example was really really clever), beautiful (if safe) music and excellent dancing from all the cast. I think it was the excellent dancing which ultimately lets you overlook the flaws.

In comparison to the two versions of La Fille Mal Gardee we have seen this year, Cinderella didn’t come close to knocking them off their pedestal but I think all the girls in the audience tonight would have been truly enchanted by the whole show. If the Northern Ballet visit again, with anything, I am certainly getting tickets to see them.

Saturday 29^th November.

Out of deference to my Gallic, Giggly, colleague I spent an hour going through all of my folders, box files and crates of junk which I have in my study, to see if our missing papers are anywhere at home. I know they are not because I am obsessive about stuff anyway. So I make absolutely sure I have filed things away in their proper places before doing anything else. Laura is convinced that Felice has lost them a she is such a scatterbrain, but having witnessed her real panic I am not so sure. Maybe we have to think outside the box on this one.

We did some retail therapy in town today. Catching the tram in seemed a good idea, avoid traffic and parking problems. Heading back to the Middlewood Tram terminus loaded down with about six carrier bags each and a full rucksack too, wasn’t such a good idea. However, with the exception of two presents, I have now bought something for everyone. Rah rah rah. I posted the bulky Australian ones in October, to make sure they got there in time for Christmas. It is a pity we don’t have their “surface/air” option of postal delivery which I used to send stuff home whenI was out there in the noughties. I have got Dad to put some smaller, light things in his luggage so there will be even more than they expect out in Warnbro.

The present shopping has meant we haven’t done a grocery shop for a while. Our fridge is getting a bit Mother Hubbardy, but we have enough for tomorrow and Monday, so we’ll get some ‘fud’ then. Unless I decide to shop tomorrow instead; I am not keen on grocery shopping on a Sunday, it seems to spoil your day.

We spent the rest of the day just loafing about really. I wrapped up some of the presents until we ran out of sticky tape (what an oversight). I then sewed some more of my embroidery and Laura had a go at her cross stick piece. We must have looked like a pair of old spinsters busy at our needlework in a painting by Vermeer or someone of that ilk. I said Laura ‘had a go’ at her cross stitch, she keeps getting stuck and tangled up, so I do spend a fair amount of time having to untangle her work. I have started to refuse to do anything unless I receive a large bribe first.

The bribe for the first time she got stuck was a fresh cuppa and a slice of chocolate cake, warmed up and served with ice cream. Yummy in my tummy. The second time she got into a mess, I said the bribe needed to exceed the chocolate cake one of earlier. She assured me it would, and proceeded to sit between my legs and gently caress my magic triangle with her fingers. Very delicately at first so their touch was so light I could hardly feel it. This got steadily more intense and when she started to unzip my chinos I simply had to put my embroidery down and help her out too.

I didn’t get her cross stitch problem sorted out for at least two hours after that!

Sunday November 30th

The weather looked decidedly promising this morning so after a huge breakfast, we sallied forth and drove out to Burbage to park up for Stanage Edge. We didn't get there until about 10.30 and there were already plenty of parked vehicles. The owners of them had probably decided to 'get some in' as the day looked fair. We trooped off to the egde with Callie dancing about as though she was going on a long walk. We had to disappoint her as we had decided to do some sticking to rock instead.

Despite being sunny, the rock was a bit wet in place and quite greasy on some of the pitches. I have discovered it can do this for no immediately obvious reason. No doubt a meteorologist would be able to explain the phenomenon we just consider it a bloody nuisance. 

We pottered about on a couple of HVSs for a while until some of the surfaces had dried out. This also involved walking Callie out along the edge until it dropped away towards the Snake Road, so she didn't feel too left out. As it was Sunday I had brought her dog spike and bit of old rope so she wasn't going to present a hazard to fellow rock monkeys. On a week day we just let her wander to her heart's content.

After a lunch of ham salad sandwiches and hot, sweet tea (that was the reason we were delayed in getting here) we did a couple more pitches.

Laura has been itching to lead climb for a while now. I have been a bit reluctant to let her, which is stupid of me as she is technically quite proficient now, but I agreed. She wanted to do On a Wing and a Prayer. So off we toddled to the foot of this wall.

It has a tricky first section but then is pretty straight forward after that. Until you reach the overhang near the top. This was still a bit greasy, according to Laura, and she talced up a bit more before shooting over it to the wobbly stone at the top. It is only about 12 metres but is a good test for a newer climber. 

She was right about the greasiness, what I also found a problem was my fingers were getting cold. We walked back along towards the car and climbed Niche Wall Direct before calling it a day. The sun was still out but the temperature had dropped and I wasn't a happy bunny with cold fingers.

Callie wasn't bothered by the cold, though and ploughed straight into one of the pools in the stream at Burbage. Mad bloody dog. Luckily I had two dog towels stuffed under my seat of she'd have to drive back home in the boot soaking wet. I made a mental note to wash up all the dirty dog towels. I don't like doing it as I am sure it isn't good for our clothes to follow a dog towel wash. I am thinking of buying a really cheap washing machine just for dog towels and beds and the like.

We were home by three. Washed, showered, spruced and fed by 6.30 just in time to head into town for tonight's concert. The Halle (again) performing Kodaly "Dances of Galanta", Prokofiev "3rd Piano Concerto" and Dvorak "New World Symphony". We had not heard the Kodaly before and the pieces were very good, one to look out for in the future when shopping at Amazon. The pianist for the Prokofiev was excellent, Sunwook Kim, I assume is Korean, he won the Leeds Piano Compy in 2009. 

The New World was played much in the way of my own recording, that is; hell for leather on the final movement. Some conductors try to slow it down, but I much prefer it this way. It left us with a warm glow afterwards and a reflection that this is our last event of the year (apart from seeing Deacon Blue with Dad and Louisa, which doesn't count as left to our own devices we wouldn't have gone). 

Our next event is more ballet. We are going to have to drive down from Dad's to see Swan Lake by the Moscow City Ballet on January 6th. Dad isn't back from Australia until about the 26th of Jan. This is another group visit, with Mum, Mrs Briggs and Felice joining us for this one.

We sometimes have a lull in the proceedings, when life can seem quite empty! LOL