The Bluestocking Arms Women's Pub, where women make friends with Beetles, Androids, Cakes, Dragons, Hedgehogs and other women, where wit and wisdom flourish

[inkymoose]

Here at the Bluestocking there's a place for all women. A break from Reality, and many laughs and stories to share. Have your fill of Tunnocks bars and tea cakes, sing feminist anthems, drink as much beer or gin or hot chocolate as you desire. It won't make you fatter or drunken but oh, it's fun. Sit in the garden with our Lion resident or the Quokkas and Capybara. Express your opinions loudly in Pedantry Corner. Ask for whatever you fancy to be served by our obliging Gerbil staff. Come in, all women, welcome!

I was going to feed the cats and then remembered I fed them an hour ago. I wonder would they have told me? I fed myself instead. Lamb chops, garlic, herbs, runner beans (from Morocco, but it's a treat). WINE

V nice

This was Bing's other borderline legible version of the Motto. It seems a bit threatening, but at least the Beetle is undamaged. I sometimes wonder what the world will be like in 18 months or so when AI takes over, using what we've taught it.

Well, so much for sobriety. I have been chopping down trees (sawing branches, really) with my neighbour and she rewarded me with a gin and tonic. It would have been rude to decline, as she is in her eighties. Women in their eighties are not to be refused.

I did lots of gardening and then had a beer. Did a bit more gardening, walked the dogs, brought the laundry in and got the dinner on, had a cup of tea and then a glass of wine.

Women who have done lots of gardening should never be refused alcohol. Your neighbour clearly knows this.

I've been digging up nettle roots and pulling up goosegrass, and am sorry to discover that I haven't got over my tendency to contact dematitis from the latter. Not as bad as it used to be, but still sore.

But am delighted to discover that a couple of years neglect of the patch of grass that used to have some (Irish, not Spanish) bluebells in it has resulted in wall-to-wall bluebells. Which is partly why I'm pulling up the nettle roots, I want to scatter bluebell seeds there when they're ripe.

Been driving back from Wales most of today, but stopped off to have a walk. I forget how lovely the native bluebell smells.

Telyn is on 3 eggs that are due to hatch in mid-May. Fortunately all the wardens I spoke to at Dyfi were blokes so unlikely to stop by the Bluestocking. I don't think I outed myself.

I saw a carrion crow in the sunshine. It really brought out the colours in its feathers. They're really beautiful birds.

Lots of red kites too. They're such wobbly fliers. Like they've got the flying equivalent of training wheels.

.

Beetle, we've talked about the stalking. That must have been a really long lens, I never caught a glimpse of you.

To be fair, you did have your eyes closed.

No nose either. I was obviously lying about imagining the scent of bluebells.

I blend in well.

That's just a picture of me in a field.

😁

I'm slightly easier to spot in this one.

Cute hat!

I really should open my eyes more often. Looks like I nearly ran into you.

Photograph me like one of your French patisseries.

OK

That's more like it!

'Women in their eighties are not to be refused'

you're not wrong there, Swash -
Natalie Clifford Barney met her last gal-pal when she (Natalie) was in her 80s. They met in a park It has to be said that NCB had a lot of experience of chatting up women by then, like the rest of her ilk in Paris in the early 20th century😏

She was much younger, and NCB's [v wealthy] family thought she was a gold-digger and didn't accept her at first; but it was love, and she stayed with her till NCB died, aged 95, and the family came to accept her and looked after her after NCB died. So it's a lovely story.❤

I'm looking forward to being in my eighties, it sounds fun!

I may have to call it a day on MN tonight… have actually just typed the words ‘I am as GC as they come but I find your posts to be the total definition of transphobia’ … feel the need of a G&T now as I fear I have crossed over to the dark side.

I once went on a macaron making class, at Mademoiselle Macaron in Edinburgh - it was my Mothers' Day gift from the boys. It was fascinating, and I have made macarons a couple of times since, though with a lot less success than when supervised by the experts!

I'm off to knitting group - where I will be crocheting leaves for my hydrangeas, which involved crocheting wire round the edges, so I have a pair of wire snips in my knitting bag, along with all the more normal stuff.

Thank you. It's my straw beret. It has a matching coat, that I'm just getting.

I've turned you into a colouring in page Cake!

And now I have sharpie all over my screen!

I think Co Pilot has had a update, or is starting to learn at a much faster speed.

I've just managed to get it to not only change the last picture it generated yesterday into a page to colour in, but also one from much earlier in the evening.

We may need to start worrying it's on its way to being sentient!

Perhaps you're getting better at using it?