The Bluestocking: All You Need to Know About Risk Assessments, Jazz Hands, Battenberg and Sourdough (But Were Afraid to Ask) - and gerbils. Lots and lots of gerbils.

[MyrtleLion]

Welcome to The Bluestocking, the perfectly overblown, gloriously chaotic all-women’s pub where you can have a bit of a lie down if you need it.

Expect serious debates on musicals, cake and knitting, and whimsical musings on women’s rights and why the world’s on fire (again), all under the calm supervision of our support staff: gerbils, capybaras, and the occasional quokka on secondment.

The alcohol won’t get you drunk, the pastries won’t make you fat, but the conversation will digress, and that’s the point.

Remember to namechange before posting if you’re sometimes someone else.

Yes. I wonder if it depends on his age when he wrote something, or just his state of mind. I couldn't get into 'Stranger in a Strange Land' because of its adolescent fantasy view of women. But I'm sure it was Heinlein who wrote some lovely short stories which included happy M/F relationships, ageing together etc.

I recently discovered Kelly Boesch, who uses AI to make artwork, songs & videos. This is a narrated one which might speak to a few/many of us here at the Bluestocking:

https://www.facebook.com/watch/?ref=saved&v=1203013241327256

Most are more surreal than that...

https://www.facebook.com/reel/1285879213571675

I love this cooking show:

https://www.facebook.com/reel/1911217652807421

My cold feet are why God gave dh warm inner thighs! 😂😂😂

The Walrus is like a giant hot water bottle. We don't heat the bedroom and he has a fan on all night. Though he did admit that leaving the window open two nights ago when I was in That London made the bedroom "a bit cold".

He's still toasty warm though. I have a stash of "emergency socks" around the house in case I get cold so I can put them on and warm up.

I have emergency socks as well Myrtle. I have always had cold feet and hands and as a child had painful chilblains as schools insisted you went outside in all weathers.
Large hot chocolate to warm my hands on please bargerbils.

.

Re cats and rain, we have a thing with dogs and lightning.
Batshit is just overwhelmingly confused by it, nfi what is going on, baffled looks all round.
Brains has worked out that we can control the lights, and she'd like that flashy one turned off please, it's very distracting.

Blowing a gale here, and I need to go and do some gardening...

I'm glad you mentioned Batshit, Edith, because my mind immediately went to
'I wonder what Batshit's perception of the weather is?'
Batshit always makes me smile

Thank you for the link to that beautiful Kelly Boesch video, Android. Very beautiful.
I can't say I agree with a lot of the feelings - I still worry about what people think and I don't notice Nature any more than I used to, I obviously haven't acquired that serenity-of-old-age thing yet! - but the line 'I miss the firsts' really hit home.

And I paused the video to look at the titles of the books and was delighted to see that they made as much sense as Early AI Gerbilese - one of them was called Ibogies Uilin

At one point there is a mighty fine beetle, did you notice that? Such a fine-looking beetle I'm sure our Boily was the model ...

I'm looking forward to looking at her other videos - thank you Android for the introduction to her v interesting work.

Winter always reminds me of one of my old cats, who used to blatter the back door to get out, then look in bemusement at the snow before turning around and heading right back in.

Sometimes he would stick a paw in the snow and then jump in alarm, as if he had never seen or felt snow before.

I can't remember if that was the same cat who, the first time he saw a hedgehog in the garden, just sat down and looked at it with this screwed up face as if trying to figure out what this strange creature was.

I didn't get paid for that gig. Not all bad though, I was allowed to keep the carapace

I once had a cat who would ask to go out the back door. If the weather was too inclement she would go to the front door to see if it was any better there.

Before Boo lived in the house with me he lived under the shed with hedgehogs, and he returned from one of his first forays back outside after adoption (and worming, snipping and treatment for an infected bite from the Bad Cat) with parallel scratches on the top of his head from greeting one of his old pals with a skull rub.

It was a different cat who was antisocial and didn't get on with any other cats and chased them when he saw them, but there was a fox cub who would come around sometimes and the two of them would play together. They were friends, like something out of Beatrix Potter.

I had a tabby cat many years ago who used to ask to be let out of the back door (no cat flap then) and if it was raining he went to the front door in case it wasn’t raining on that side of the house. RIP Winchester.

I had a boy cat who used to sit at the door miaowing to be let out. I'd ask him, where are you going, and he'd give me a look like an adolescent teen as if to say, "out". So I'd ask, and when will you be back, and he'd look at me again as if to say, "when I'm back".

Then when it was time to eat, I'd pop outside and bang his bowl with a fork. He'd come running.

Because he was just a boy who like his dinner.

I'm very allergic to cats, so never had one again.

Sad times.

That reminds me of ...me!
Because it doesn't snow much in Ireland, esp in the coastal areas where we lived, I was probably about 4 when I first saw snow. I was soooooooo excited and couldn't wait to play in it like I'd seen kids on Christmas cards and in films playing in the show. Wow! Snow!!

Seconds later I was back in the house complaining that snow was wet and cold...😄

I'm now wondering what your other cats have been called.

Are we on cathedral cities (York, Durham, Guildford etc) or gun makers (Lee Enfield, Mauser - good pun there - Beretta, Purdey, Browning...)

I did once hear of a bloke who named his Labradors after items made of cloth - Towel, Napkin, Duster etc.

No overlying theme sadly. Winchester was a chemistry reference (DH1 was a research chemist). Next two cats were Flea and Snowball, brother and sister from the same litter. Flea was a grey cat and named for a rock musician by the friend we got them from. Snowball was a black cat because my friend has that kind of sense of humour. Both of those cats emigrated to the USA with me. Flea died at 15 and DH2's daughter gave us two tabby kittens, again sisters from the same litter. Sadly, they don't get on particularly well, and Snowball ignored them mostly until she died five years later. The tabbies are Skittles and Reese, which I guess is a candy theme.

You were in a few/many of her films. I guess, like God, she's fond of beetles.

My first memory of snow (other than on far distant mountain tops) was when we got back from our sojourn in Forrin Climes.

I was absolutely bloody delighted to encounter this mythical substance.

The snowy days of my adolescence were spent sliding down bumpy slopes on fertiliser bags. You had to make sure you stopped before you encountered either the rusty barbed wire or the stream.

You have slopes in your part of the world?

Don't tell her Pike! It might be an attempt at geolocating you!😁

only kidding JanesLittleGirl😄

😆
We see hills where others see gentle inclines...

Inclines steep enough to allow you to pick up a decent speed on a fertiliser bag if the snow has been packed down a bit and you have a following wind.