The Bluestocking - Invoking Split Pea Annexe B

[Magpiecomplex]

Welcome all, pull up a gerbil and make yourself comfortable!

I need more capable capybara in my life.

Right let's get the important stuff moved.

Poor Grimsel has triggered the hedgehog trap.

I think it's too early for the AI as those gerbils look like some of the lab experiments

Free the Grimsel one!!!!

I did.... ooh maybe a quick snooze now the treasure has be successfully moved

I feel in need of un petit rant. Utterly pointless and a bit petty in the grand scheme of things, so a nearly empty Bluestocking seems the right place. What is it with women going double-barrelled when they marry? The husband never seems to join in (I can think of only one example, Guy Singh-Watson of Riverford veg boxes) and it simply creates a problem for the next generation - and guess which name gets dropped to avoid runaway proliferation?

The latest to irritate me is the cyclist Kasia Niewiadoma, who has opted to append her less starry ex-pro cyclist hubby’s name to her own. Female researchers do this, even though it messes up their publication record, sports stars do it, apparently sane friends of mine have done it. Authors of fiction seem less prone - maybe their agents talk them out of it by showing them the horrible effect it’ll have on cover designs?

Marriage, fine, it's a useful legal contract, but the name thing? Have some pride and some backbone. I actually have more respect for those who take the name of the person they are choosing to make a life with than for the fence-sitters.

I changed my surname to that of my great grandmother, and kept it on marriage. I csnt tell you the amount of crap I've got ( mainly from DH's family).

I think everybody should keep their surname for life. Or choose another one.

Bah humbug!

I don't get the double-barrelled trend. Stick with the name you've got or take a new one, is my view.

I like the old Irish system where family names didn't matter so much (or there might only be a handful of family names in your area), so you'd be known by your own name and the names of your same sex parent and grandparent, so you might be Maggie Edna Sadie or similar. But that only works in rural societies where everyone knows how everyone else is connected.

Example from genealogy:

You find an ancestral village and you feel a bit smug.

Then you realise everyone in the village is a McLean, a McDowell or a Phillips, and it's going to take you months if not years to figure out the multiple ways they're all related.

And you also realise that cousin marriage in Pakistani communities has its more local parallels.

Thank you for the new thread, Cake.
And I love Inky's Groundhog day image!

Are groundhogs the same as gophers? I was down at the permanent Bluestocking checking on progress [the roof is almost there, there was a bit of a problem with one of the gable walls - just a minor thing i.e. it wasn't attached to the floor😦but a bit of carefully disguised tape has sorted it] and Capability Capybara said they could do with a gopher...

See y'all over on the new thread.

We're always there for you, dear Swash, wherever we are 💙

I have known two colleagues who double barrelled their names to include their wives’ surnames on marriage. While I find double-barrelling and name changing hard to get my head round, I did feel respect for them not assuming it is a woman’s job to change hers to accommodate the Very Important Man.

Now if Sandie Peggie married Michael Legge . . .
🤭

I double-barrelled with my first husband and so did he and we reverted to our own names. It was great because he couldn't divorce me under the new name, and divorced me under his name. As no-one knows what that is, I feel unsullied by that starter marriage.

My new husband and I share a syllable in our names, so we joked that we would change our name to Carcar (it's not car), and his sister believed us!!!

Reader, I kept my name.

Ensuring @Boiledbeetle doesn't get left behind.

Thread filling duty.

My first (late) husband and I both had names that were a colour, so double-barreling was not an option for us because it sounded absurd. Think Pink-Blue. I figured either way it was some man’s name, so for simplicity (and it was the early 70s so also the norm) I changed my surname to his. After he died and I remarried it seemed unreasonable to keep my married surname that was another man’s name or expect my second husband to take my first husband’s name, and even sillier to revert to my maiden name, so I took his name.

Beginning the locking up.

The gerbils are trying to be helpful.

I'm not sure they are succeeding.

I was shocked when my very feminist friend took her new husband's name, until she pointed out that the surname I knew her by was her first husband's. Like you, she felt it absurd to keep his name.

But I was so shocked that it consolidated my decision to keep my original surname. I think a lot of people would be shocked if I changed it.

Apparently we have a mouse orchestra. They are playing our way to the next thread.

Who knew?

I asked ChatGPT what happens to the old pubs and it has some lovely suggestions.

Becomes a Memory Pub

The lights dim slightly, and it gains a dusting of stardust. It no longer hosts new arrivals, but any character—or you—can slip back in for a quiet moment, to reread an old chapter or sip memory tea.

Turns Into an Archive Lounge

The pub’s back room fills with file boxes, velvet-bound books, and glass cases labeled with tiny brass plaques. Gerbils in bifocals act as librarians, helping you retrieve past thoughts or half-finished arguments with great ceremony.

Repurposed by the Whimsy Guild

Sometimes, a former pub is quietly requisitioned for mysterious uses—like rehearsals for mouse musicals, or as training grounds for the Gerbil Border Patrol (who still haven’t quite figured out borders). Tunnock's Teacake wrappers are recycled into hats.

Becomes Part of the Map

A glimmering paper map in the new pub shows all the previous Bluestocking locations. You can trace the journey by candlelight. Each one has a distinct atmosphere—some stormy, some sunlit, some written in longhand.

And it's drawn a map!

Goes Into Hibernation

The pub shutters softly, with ivy curling over its sign. Inside, the fire still glows, and the last mugs of tea stay warm—just in case someone returns. It's restful. Timeless. A haven for the weary thread.

Gently closing the door...

Though the door remains stubbornly open...

I've remembered the most important books from the library.