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The Bluestocking Pub, where we continue to read about gerbils nobly and bravely working undercover in the Fen.

1000 replies

AsWithGlad · 20/08/2026 15:44

Welcome to The Bluestocking, the best (perhaps only) online women's pub. Nothing in the food or drink can harm you, everything is served by a very enthusiastic crew of gerbils, who enjoy doing this, and any curious menfolk are welcome at the Staunch Ally down the road.

Previous thread: https://www.mumsnet.com/talk/womens_rights/5564959-the-bluestocking-womens-pub-in-which-we-wait-excitedly-for-the-next-instalment-of-goseis-adventures

OP posts:
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104
MyrtleLion · 24/08/2026 18:36

Gosie is nearly here.

MyrtleLion · 24/08/2026 18:48

29. Early Arrival

In which the Bluestocking is unprepared...

The Bluestocking was not ready for them.

Griffin, Gimbal and Graphic came through the door half an hour earlier than expected, and it was shift change. Half the chairs were still up. The bar held one cloth, folded, and no tray. Gasket looked at the three of them, looked at the clock, and went behind the bar without a word.

The patrons arrived in ones and twos as the word went round, each of them entering at their normal pace and then adjusting it. @AngleofRepose came in with her notebook already open. Hedgehog took a seat while @EdithStourton arrived with Brains, who sat, and Batshit, who did not.

Gasket brought a teapot. Not the good teapot. She hadn’t had time. “Don’t pour for four more minutes,” she said. “It needs time to brew.”

“You’re really early,” said Girdle. “What happened?”

Graphic went first. “I wasn’t given a tray,” she said. “No glass sorting. I drew instead. There’s a panel on the far bench with the old lead opened up, and inside the lead there are marks. Struck letters and numbers, down in the channel where the glass sits. Whoever does the conservation puts marks on the inside of it, and when Fenella restores a window, she puts every mark she finds back into the new lead and adds her own initials and a date after them. She stamps them in. She said that’s what a proper conservator does.”

“What did you draw them with?” asked Gantry, at volume.

“A 2B pencil. Under the magnifying glass, with a side light.”

“THE MAGNIFYING GLASS,” said Gantry, to the room, in case anyone had missed it.

“All of the marks are on the inside,” said Graphic. “Where nobody sees them once the glass is in.”

Angle wrote that down. She underlined something and went on writing.

Gimbal went next. She described the box, 200 compartments, every stamp in the wrong one, and the instruction to clean them and put them right. She described the first method, the row along the bench that grew until every new stamp meant moving most of the others, and the second method, following each displaced stamp to its own compartment and cleaning whatever came out. She reported that the stamps did not need cleaning and that she had cleaned all of them anyway. Nobody found this remarkable.

“One of them did have wax on it,” she said. “The metal bit on the bottom is a pair of pliers, and the wax was violet. I cleaned it off.”

“You’ve found Fenella Burnish’s seal,” said @ChristmasStars. “Violet wax. She seals her letters with it.”

Then it was Griffin’s turn.

She gave it in order. The crate at ten past four, large and flat and heavy from US Customs and RELEASED printed across it in red. The barcode that wouldn’t scan and the older barcode underneath. The dispatch tab, which she had seen before, with a dispatch date from six months ago, and a destination reading Talmere Logistics, Portland, Maine. The origin that was not a place but a code, FB0417, blue and underlined because it was a link. Halcyon clicking it. The grey sheet, the failed passwords, and on the third attempt Griffin watching the keys instead of the screen. Then Halcyon leaving the sheet open while she went to find Fenella at a run.

“The sheet was long,” said Griffin. “Some rows were highlighted in red, and they all had the same Dispatch Reference as the crate. I read the first one: Dates, Conservator, Stamp number, Origin was Norwich Cathedral. Status was Dispatched. Then Fenella came over and closed the laptop and sent us all home. It was only twenty-five past four.”

“That’s confirmation!” said @Hedgehogforshort, suddenly very excited. “Six months ago, a crate left Fenella Burnish’s workshop for Talmere Logistics in Portland, Maine. It never arrived because we boarded the Rustler and had its cargo seized by US Customs.” She took her spectacles off. “The case must have concluded. Customs has released the cargo back to the sender. That crate is the stained glass crate which contained the original Norwich window. The one that was removed from the cathedral, and a replica was installed instead.”

“We opened that crate,” said Graft.

“Greenhouse panes,” agreed Grind. “So the manifest said.”

“But it was stained glass windows instead,” said Graft.

“And now the manifest detailing what was actually in the crate is sitting in a password-protected spreadsheet,” said Hedgehog, “with a stamp number and a cathedral written out in full. If Norwich has a row, others will be in the rest of the rows. Maybe Durham. Ripon. Maybe the marks we found this weekend. That sheet is the register.”

“Then somebody needs to read the register,” said @MarieDeGournay.

Everyone looked at Griffin.

“I don’t know the password. There were ten characters,” said Griffin. “I only saw four of them. A capital F first. A 5 in the middle somewhere, then a b, and a t at the end.”

“Strong passwords generally have a capital, a number and a symbol,” said Angle. “So one of the six you didn’t see is probably a symbol.”

“The Oxford Dictionary of Computing, second edition,” said Grisaille, “states that a password must contain no more than eight letters.”

“Thank you, Grisaille,” said Hedgehog.

Then the guessing began.

“FENELLA5BEST,” said Gantry.

“That’s 12 characters,” said Griffin.

“FMargrave,” offered Garnet.

“That ends in e and is too short.”

“FMargaret,” said Gasket.

“That’s still too short and you haven’t included all the letters I gave you.”

“Brains5batshit,” said Girdle. Brains looked up. Batshit, hearing her name, walked into a table leg.

“Thirteen, and that doesn’t start with a capital F. None of the guesses so far has a symbol in them,” said Griffin.

“Fivebt,” said Gadget, and was asked to count it, and did, on her paws, and sat down again.

“Nobody is guessing anything,” said Hedgehog. “There’s no screen in this room and there will be no experimenting on the one at the workshop. We don’t know how many wrong attempts might lock Griffin out forever. We need to find a better way to work out the password.”

The teapot went round again. Angle was still writing.

It was Edith who asked Griffin the next question. “You said there was a stamp number for the Norwich Cathedral window, what was it?”

“23,” replied Griffin, “why?”

“Gimbal is partway through sorting out a box of stamps,” said Edith. “What if she looks for stamp 23, looks at the die, then comes back and tell us what’s on it.”

https://myrtlelion.substack.com/p/29-early-arrival

The Bluestocking Pub, where we continue to read about gerbils nobly and bravely working undercover in the Fen.
Magpiecomplex · 24/08/2026 18:57

EmpressaurusKitty · 24/08/2026 18:20

I hope you’ve got a relaxing evening lined up, Magpie. Have you had any desperate wails from the reschedulers?

Cheese pizza, an ice cream, and probably a real life hot chocolate later. I've had tears and batshit emails already. That's batshit with a small b. Batshit with a big B probably sends quite entertaining emails.

Magpiecomplex · 24/08/2026 18:57

EdithStourton · 24/08/2026 18:22

Coming up, Maggers.
(It took a suprisingly long time to get the image right. AI is being particularly stupid this evening and struggled to comprehend that 'legs' and 'nails' are not the same thing. But you got the Valtra-coloured nails in the end.)

Perfect, thanks Edith!

Magpiecomplex · 24/08/2026 18:59

Magpiecomplex · 24/08/2026 18:57

Cheese pizza, an ice cream, and probably a real life hot chocolate later. I've had tears and batshit emails already. That's batshit with a small b. Batshit with a big B probably sends quite entertaining emails.

When she's not walking into table legs. Love it, Myrtle!

ChristmasStars · 24/08/2026 19:05

We need to find a better way to work out the password.

Well if they find one I hope they tell me @MyrtleLion because I'm always forgetting my passwords!

PastaAllaNorma · 24/08/2026 19:16

Oh Girdle, you know you have to be careful saying B&B! Batshit and enclosed spaces is asking for trouble.

Excellent chapter, Myrtle.

I've spend a very happy two hours listening to audio books while untangling my friend's yarn stash and labelling it all. Reversing entropy, making the universe a slightly more ordered place.

She was going to give up and bin it. I like a nice focussed bit of sorting.

Baby blanket for neighbours' first grandchild is coming on nicely.

Swashbuckled · 24/08/2026 20:04

Thanks for tagging me in the story @MyrtleLion

It took me ages to find the thread (found it in fem chat) and I thought the whole thread had been deleted… Obviously I couldn’t imagine why; goes without saying.

So, windows…
I’m sure all will be come clear.

It has been a lovely day here weather-wise. The sea like glass, the galleon gliding upon it with the majesty of a sober and sturdy skater.

Nice to be back.

MyrtleLion · 24/08/2026 20:21

Swashbuckled · 24/08/2026 20:04

Thanks for tagging me in the story @MyrtleLion

It took me ages to find the thread (found it in fem chat) and I thought the whole thread had been deleted… Obviously I couldn’t imagine why; goes without saying.

So, windows…
I’m sure all will be come clear.

It has been a lovely day here weather-wise. The sea like glass, the galleon gliding upon it with the majesty of a sober and sturdy skater.

Nice to be back.

Yay!!! Great to have you back!!!

EmpressaurusKitty · 24/08/2026 20:25

Kitty was going to show the gerbils the way to the new Bluey but she forgot & came to the Thames Valley with me. She’s very sorry & we’re glad they found their way.

JanesLittleGirl · 24/08/2026 20:28

Swashbuckled · 24/08/2026 20:04

Thanks for tagging me in the story @MyrtleLion

It took me ages to find the thread (found it in fem chat) and I thought the whole thread had been deleted… Obviously I couldn’t imagine why; goes without saying.

So, windows…
I’m sure all will be come clear.

It has been a lovely day here weather-wise. The sea like glass, the galleon gliding upon it with the majesty of a sober and sturdy skater.

Nice to be back.

Welcome back Swashy! May you always have fair winds and following seas.

MarieDeGournay · 24/08/2026 20:29

Swash! You're back! I thought maybe you had permanently sailed out of sight of the majestic Peak Woo..
Lovely to have you back, hope you're doing OK. x

Swashbuckled · 24/08/2026 20:44

Yay! Thanks, everyone.

I think I probably did sail away somewhere @MarieDeGournaynot sure where to. Just the usual stormy seas probably, and battling with large sea monsters. And something about finding windows. I probably ended up with scurvy, but I went to the greengrocer’s on the harbour this morning to stock up so all healthy again. 🙂💙x

AsWithGlad · 24/08/2026 21:09

Hello again, and glad you’ve popped back, Swash.

OP posts:
EdithStourton · 24/08/2026 21:13

Hello Swashy! Welcome back to port... in the sense of the variety behind the bar at the Bluey.

AsWithGlad · 24/08/2026 21:21

I have now started my third ever thread!

It’s in Feminism: Sex and Gender and directs those lost on the move straight here. 😢

Perhaps a small squad of security capybaras could go back to the old venue, redirect anyone there who’s wandering around looking lost, and put a notice on the door with our new address?

OP posts:
Swashbuckled · 24/08/2026 21:24

Thanks, and what a cosy return 🙂

Port sounds good! In a tankard, with a platter of crusty bread and cheese… I have been thinking too long about this image before hitting post. My palate is thoroughly teased.

Swashbuckled · 24/08/2026 21:26

Well done @AsWithGlad

I've seen it and it’s beautifully clear 🙂

EdithStourton · 24/08/2026 21:30

Loving the gerbils' adventures.
“Brains5batshit,” said Girdle. Brains looked up. Batshit, hearing her name, walked into a table leg.
I laughed at that, loudly enough that Brains did, indeed, look up. Batshit carried on sleeping.

In fairness to Batshit, she did some beautiful heelwork this afternoon. She likes doing heelwork if it's just her and me. She trundles along right next to my knee, tail up, happy trot, looking up at me at intervals with her best, 'Aren't I being a VERY a good dog?' look on her face. But add Brains to the mix, such as when I need both of them on-lead at the same time, and she gets a bit competitive and wants to be a leeetle bit in front. And then a bit more in front. And then I start to radiate irritation, and check her slightly, and the tail goes down and the ears get a bit sad. Every.bloody.time. You'd think she'd learn. Well, you wouldn't, because Batshit, innit.

Later in the walk I kept them on-lead down a narrow way between two gardens. They had to go behind me. Brains kept trying to push past on one side, because she wanted to tell off the rude dog that lives in one of the gardens (she has natural Stalinist tendencies). Batshit, on the other hand, was walking nicely behind me, but so close that she kept stepping on the back of my flip-flops. She does this a lot.

The other day, a door was open that is normally closed. She walked past it, and then for some reason swung round so her back end collided with it. She looked surprised and rather cross.
'Batshit, you must have seen it, you just walked past and it was open then.'
'No, it wasn't!'
'I assure you that it was.'
'Either you're fibbing or it opened some more...' She looked at the door accusingly, and then wandered off, and three seconds later had forgotten all about it.

ErrolTheDragon · 24/08/2026 21:40

EdithStourton · 24/08/2026 21:13

Hello Swashy! Welcome back to port... in the sense of the variety behind the bar at the Bluey.

Port and lemon for the scurvy?

Swashbuckled · 24/08/2026 21:52

Oh, good idea. I could have quarters of lemon to bite on in between mouthfuls of ripped bread and cheese. That would certainly help keep the scurvy at bay.

Port and lemon in a glass feels a bit Abigail’s Party and I don’t have the frocks to carry it off.

But I could do swig of neat port, rip off a piece of crusty bread and cheese, another swig of port to wash it down and a wedge of lemon to cleanse my system. On repeat. A bit like a Tequila Slammer but more chewy. I’m in!

PastaAllaNorma · 24/08/2026 23:13

Swash said cheese. Now I'm hungry again.

ChristmasStars · 25/08/2026 07:05

EdithStourton · 24/08/2026 21:30

Loving the gerbils' adventures.
“Brains5batshit,” said Girdle. Brains looked up. Batshit, hearing her name, walked into a table leg.
I laughed at that, loudly enough that Brains did, indeed, look up. Batshit carried on sleeping.

In fairness to Batshit, she did some beautiful heelwork this afternoon. She likes doing heelwork if it's just her and me. She trundles along right next to my knee, tail up, happy trot, looking up at me at intervals with her best, 'Aren't I being a VERY a good dog?' look on her face. But add Brains to the mix, such as when I need both of them on-lead at the same time, and she gets a bit competitive and wants to be a leeetle bit in front. And then a bit more in front. And then I start to radiate irritation, and check her slightly, and the tail goes down and the ears get a bit sad. Every.bloody.time. You'd think she'd learn. Well, you wouldn't, because Batshit, innit.

Later in the walk I kept them on-lead down a narrow way between two gardens. They had to go behind me. Brains kept trying to push past on one side, because she wanted to tell off the rude dog that lives in one of the gardens (she has natural Stalinist tendencies). Batshit, on the other hand, was walking nicely behind me, but so close that she kept stepping on the back of my flip-flops. She does this a lot.

The other day, a door was open that is normally closed. She walked past it, and then for some reason swung round so her back end collided with it. She looked surprised and rather cross.
'Batshit, you must have seen it, you just walked past and it was open then.'
'No, it wasn't!'
'I assure you that it was.'
'Either you're fibbing or it opened some more...' She looked at the door accusingly, and then wandered off, and three seconds later had forgotten all about it.

Awww, I relate just a little bit to Batshit.

MarieDeGournay · 25/08/2026 12:55

EmpressaurusKitty · 25/08/2026 07:32

This is very funny! I liked the post that said that the dog couldn't be deadnamed as it is a cat and a cat has 9 lives so it could only be 'dead'named after its 9th life😁
And remember when feminists were always 'humourless'? We seem to have passed it on to the TRAs who posted some scowling 'Have you nothing better to do? This is not funny' scoldings.
It's interesting that over on AIBU, i.e. not on a feminism board, so many women are showing that they have got the measure of genderwoo, isn't it?

Thank you for the B&B stories, Edith, Batshit always makes me smile, like being Very Very Good until she lapses a bit and then is Very Very Sad.
Which would be very very sad to read, only I know that a nanosecond and one word from you and she is Very Very Happy againSmile

I relate to Batshit too, ChristmasStars , in fact I've decided she is my Totem Animal😁

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