A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 61 The Green Dragon in the Green Dragon

The BEE’s, Bearthwaite Educational Establishment, approach to discipline was an even deeper mystery to outsiders, for poor behaviour was virtually unheard of in a BEE class. The ‘We just leave discipline to pissed off mums, other than that we just make it up as we go, because the kids know very well how they are supposed to behave,’ approach didn’t really seem to be a viable discipline model to outsiders, but it was all that there seemed to be. As far as any could tell there wasn’t even a set of acceptable behaviour protocols or guidelines or an effective chain of command either.

A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 60 Rizla® Papers

Brigitte had remarked to Peter that there were any number of XY girls who were far more natural at being girls than he was despite he being XX. Peter had caustically replied that that was hardly surprising because they were girls whereas he was not.

What it is to be a Queen

I am Banrigh, the most sucessful hive queen in our history on the planet, at least so far I am. My gratitude that our memories and awareness are passed on when we pass is beyond the comprehension of those of other species. Members of other species die and their descendants are left with what they remember of what they have seen and have been told. We remember as if we were the one experiencing what our entire line of direct ancestors remembered of their lives and experiences. For those of us with ancestors of influence, or ancestors who subsequently became to be recognised as major contributors to our current thinking, that puts us in a powerful position in society today.

My Friend Græme

Græme was to all appearances a villain as a young man. Poverty stricken, he stole to eat and to put rags on his back to avoid freezing to death. To me he was always a decent man, for he hurt none and always had done his best to help all and anyone he’d ever met. He’d spent his life being the archetypal Good Samaritan.

The Isle of the Wise

Lorik had announced at their first evening meal on the Isle, ‘I shall give Godwin till the next full moon to consider his boon.’

‘There is no need, Lorik,’ the young man replied. ‘If she has a mind to it I’d like to take Ailidh to wife. If she has no mind to it I have need of naught, so I’ll ask for naught.’ It was a bold request for Ailidh was Lorik’s second daughter. Many wondered why he hadn’t asked for Ceinwen Ailidh’s elder sister, for Lorik had no sons and marrying the elder girl would make him Lorik’s heir.

‘If she has a mind to it, Godwin, you have my blessing.’

A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 55 Just Three Longer Tales

“Yes. I’m interested. You said you wanted a wife and were honest as to why. I’ll be just as honest. I’d be grateful of the care and protection of a decent man, but I’ve a son to protect. I’m no whore, but the exchange of bed comforts and a well kept dwelling for the protection of herself and her children is an exchange so ancient it’s decent way beyond decency, so my price is marriage. When do we get married? because till then I’m not prepared to offer you the opportunity to father my second child.”

A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 54 Tekin Receipt of a New Un

If we can find any folk who fit here I’ll be as glad to accept them and take the money off the government thieves in Whitehall and the local authority bandits in Barrow, Kendal and Penrith too as the next person, but if they don’t fit here the government can keep the bloody money and the refugees and the victims of violence even though they be women and their kids. Being abused does not give any the right to abuse any of our folk.

A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 53 Deep Secrets

Continued on from GOM 52 on a Saturday evening in the Green Dragon Inn taproom

“Hang on a moment before you do, Pete. Jeremy, whilst we’re on about food, or at any rate stuff that sometimes passes for food, answer a question for me if you would. Why the hell would anybody want to eat pizza instead of food? I know millions of poor brainwashed bastards all over the planet do, and some of them go out to eat the stuff calling it a meal, dinner even, but to me it seems a not unnatural question because I’ll lay odds there’s not a Bearthwaite man who’s ever been offered it by his missus as food here is there? I’d far rather have a sandwich made with decent bread as is baked down at the mill, and our kids wouldn’t thank you for the stuff, for they’d all rather have a bag of chips [US fries] from Ellerys’ chippy.A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 53 Deep Secrets

A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 52 Political Analysis

Continued on from GOM 51 on a Saturday evening in the Green Dragon Inn taproom

“Christ, Lads, Dave missed his calling as a green grocer he should have been a diplomat. He’d have all the middle east conflicts sorted in minutes. Admittedly, he’d turn the entire spot into one big, f*** off, glassed down, radioactive plain, but the situation would be sorted permanently which would definitely be a result. We need more of that kind of thinking.”

“I recently heard, Alice, that Hell is staffed by vegetarians and the security guards are all vegans, so I’m going to heaven where slaughtermen and butchers like me are well thought of because the angels who run the spot are known to enjoy a deliciously bloody, blue steak, and there are no security guards because none of the residents wish to leave.”

A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 51 Coneys, Bees and Fish

Continued on from GOM 50 on a Saturday evening in the Green Dragon Inn taproom

A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 51⅒ So Just Where is Bearthwaite? is included before the footnotes

For any as don’t know a coney is an adult rabbit. The lasses’ cuniculture business, that word always makes me snigger, but honest to god it is what the tax man refers to it as, so maybe they’ve not all had their senses of humour surgically removed.

Battles of the Sexes

The estrangement between men and women that had been becoming a deeper and deeper divide for over a century became a matter of hate to many if not most.

A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 48 Acquisitions Introductions and Interventions

After interviewing three potential pharmacists Murray was beginning to lose hope. All three had been male and chauvinists, pigs to boot probably too, he’d said cynically to himself. He’d just one more to go, Lennox MacUspaig, a name he’d never heard of. He was hoping that at the very least he didn’t have to deal with yet another MCP, but he doubted anything would come it. Twenty-nine years old, single and with a CV which was to say the least sparce. Murray was stunned when an attractive young woman came in to shake his hand. She saw the look on his face and asked, “You expected a man?”

The Plagiarist

Plagiarism is alive and well, and it is the greatest literary art form ever known.

The Silent Ghost

Trygg was an irritation to many of his teachers. He wouldn’t engage with any he didn’t wish to, and because of the injunction against the Ed Psychs they were not able to discover what his ‘problems’ and ‘special educational needs’ were. It would have been an impossible step for them to take to realise that they were his problems and his special educational needs were merely to be left alone so as not to distract him from soaking up information.

The Cat is Out of the Bag

Evelyn had always been considered a male name that only recently had been given to a few girls, and given that at twelve Evelyn was almost as big as Morpeth it was no surprise that despite claiming to be a girl she too was believed to be trans.

All Changes yet Remains the Same

I’m Hermione Clearwater and I’m about nineteen maybe twenty. I have an IQ that’s off the scale and a drop dead gorgeous body most women with give all they have to possess and all men would give even more to possess my body too, which can be seriously inconvenient.

George Georgina Gina

The newcomer to the area who’d moved into one of the small apartment flats, many of which were shared by pairs of students, was known to go by the name of George. George was five feet three, narrow shouldered to point of being puny and had short hair. Despite androgynous looks, George was naturally enough assumed at college to be male. That was till in an over heard conversation between some one who clearly had known George for somewhat longer than most George had been referred to as Gina and without being surprised had answered to the name. George or Gina had few friends and other than in class did not engage with others. However, eventually when asked about the two names by a classmate before the lecture started she’d said, “My name is Georgina. I get called George, Georgy and Gina.” That was all she said not engaging in further conversation before the class commenced and leaving immediately it ended.

Georgina at first was considered to be physically immature and flat chested due to the heavy, woollen sweaters and the heavy, fur trimmed, hooded coat she wore even in class during the particularly cold weather when she’d started college. However, on a warm, sunny day she had removed her coat before she entered the class room. She was not wearing a sweater and her figure hugging top meant all could see she was a well proportioned young woman with a feminine figure. One of the boys whispered to a friend as she entered the lecture theatre, “Damn it, Alvin. That’s got to be an E or an F!”

“You’ve got sex on the brain, Jerry, and you know next to nothing about girls. That’s barely a B.” It was then assumed she was trans and using breast forms. All the girls considered that though Georgina made minimal use of make up she probably used so little because she was pretty and with her flawless complexion she had little need of it. It was still assumed, though never remarked upon, that Georgina was trans. None of her peers thought any the worse of her for that, for theirs was an enlightened society. Enlightened enough for a number of her male classmates and a couple of female ones too to be interested in her to the point of wishing to date her. She’d always turned such offers down saying she had to look after Heather. It was known that she lived with Heather, a six year old who attended the local primary school along with a lot of their siblings too. It was believed that the two siblings were orphans and just about getting by. One of the girls had said that it was lucky for Georgina that she didn’t need much make up because it was so expensive that she needed to work on her dad before she could buy any more.

As the college year progressed Georgina’s short hair became a pixie cut. Then as it grew out a bit she had extensions, all of which seemed to support the contention that Georgina was in transition. One day she was spotted wearing a pair of double cross earrings by one of the girls who remarked they were pretty. She’d replied that they matched the one she wore on a chain around her neck. She further explained that they were crosses of Lorraine made of platinum and had been her mother’s, and she’d been given them by her mum when she was dying. Seeing that Georgina was upset at the memory the other girl asked no further questions and conversation returned to class matters. Many of her classmates interacted with Georgina on class matters, for she was intelligent and never seemed to have any trouble keeping up to date with her work. She was an effortless straight A student who had become popular because she was pleasant and helpful.

When Georgina admitted that she’d be eighteen in a few weeks her classmates had managed to persuade the daycare centre to look after Heather for a few extra hours, so they could all enjoy a Saturday afternoon out together. They’d had to settle for that because Georgina had point blank refused to go out in the evening, explaining she worked seven evenings a week at a local mini market store where her employers allowed her to take Heather to work with her, and she needed the money. Several of them attended the self defence and martial arts course that Georgina attended on Sunday afternoons at the local community centre, so that had been a no no for many of them too.

Many of Georgina’s classmates had younger siblings who attended the daycare, early years and primary school centre that Heather attended, and most of what they knew about Georgina had come to them via the younger children. Eventually they became aware that the two girls had moved a considerable distance away from their original home to escape an abusive father. It had seemed reasonable to conclude that he was abusive because Georgina was trans.

A few days after Georgina’s eighteenth birthday a man burst into her first class of the afternoon dragging Heather with him. Heather was screaming, “No, Daddy. No that hurts.” The man threw Heather to one side and slapped Georgina so hard he knocked her to the floor. He shouted at her to get up and told her they were going home. As he kicked Georgina to make her obey, Heather was screaming, “Stop it, Daddy. Don’t hurt us any more. We’ll be good. Promise.”

As she picked herself up from the floor, Georgina said, “No, Heather. No we won’t. I’m eighteen now, and I’m not going anywhere for him to hurt me or you ever again.” As she faced off with the man he grabbed Heather, pulled a knife and said, “If you don’t do as you’re told I’ll cut her face so badly she’ll never want to look in a mirror again, and I’ll give you a buzz cut again.” The lecturer had pressed the panic button as soon as the man had entered the room and the college police had arrived in time to hear what he’d said and to see Georgina close with the man to protect Heather. Georgina had both her hands around the man’s wrist keeping the knife away from herself. In the struggle he’d released Heather and focussed on hitting Georgina with his free hand. With him distracted she’d managed to turn his knife hand. Using her recently acquired skills she allowed herself to fall backwards pulling the man down on top of herself. Unseen by any as they fell she guided the knife so that as he came down it plunged into his heart. Obviously not known at the time she would later be deemed blameless.

It had all taken less than a handful of seconds and the police had hesitated whilst they evaluated the situation by which time it was all over. It was a few seconds before the police managed to pull him off Georgina. As they did, she’d had her hands around the knife which left his chest with a gush of blood and slid to the floor. When she stood she could see him twitching as the pool of blood on the floor spread out and within seconds started to congeal at the edges. Georgina stared at the knife at his side and hugging Heather said, “It’s all over now, Sweetheart. He’ll never hurt us again.”

In front of a silent and deeply shocked lecturer and class, a police woman gently asked, “Who was he? Ex boyfriend? Husband?”

Georgina was at that point shaking with relief and unable to answer. Heather answered for her, “We left home and came here because Daddy did mean things to us and was always hurting me and Mummy.”

Pronouns

This is a snippet out of GOM 46 that I am currently working on, but I thought it may be of interest as a short short stand alone. I’m still working on it in GOM 46 so it may end up slightly different and probably much longer. These are the words of a fictional character in a tale that is pure fantasy, so whilst comments are always welcome it is pointless to have a go at me.

Crying

To those who helped I give my blessing.
To the rest, may you one day receive what you deserve,
On my deathbed, alone as always,

Occulta puella. [Hidden Girl]

A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 44 Spring, Broadband, and Natural Justice

Since being a toddler, Violet had heard many conversations concerning war, it was something regularly discussed by Bearthwaite men, a number of who had served in the armed forces, and she had taken it all in, for to her the Bearthwaite view made perfect sense. Much of what she’d heard over and over again could be summarised in short pithy sentences. ‘Wars are caused by idiots who have the principles that ordinary blokes don’t give a toss about, but end up dying for anyway.’ ‘The number of armed conflicts a nation gets involved in is a measure of the incompetence and stupidity of its leaders because in the end all conflicts are settled around the negotiating table. It doesn’t actually require that much intelligence to have the negotiations before the conflict.’ ‘A squaddie I knew a long time ago who’d been in the mob for twenty-odd years once telt me that a battle that doesn’t happen is one won by the lads on both sides.’

A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 43 Bearthwaite Beck, Solid Fuel & Limned Letters

If Dr Tenby had any surprise at seeing a naked, eleven year old, biological female holding his father's hand she kept it to herself.

At the end of Peter’s appointment, Dr Tenby stood up and said, “You have an amazing relationship with your son, Herr Meltzer. A relationship that many of my younger patients could only dream about having.” She escorted them to the door and shook hands with them as they said goodbye.

A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 41 Bearthwaite Politics, Law, Lore and Reality

One of the pupils at Whiteport Academy was Fergus McCann. To others fourteen year old Fergus was the ultimate alpha male. A big strong and physically unstoppable boy who was the star of all the physical sport games he played for his school. It was a surprise to most when they discovered he was more interested in the creative stories he wrote for his English teacher than he was in his endeavours on the fields of sport. The boys thought he was a bit odd because he admitted to enjoying reading, and even writing, poetry, drawing and painting, but none made anything of it because Fergus was not someone whose ire they wished to court. Without doubt Fergus was a masculine male, and he had never considered being, nor had he ever wanted to be anything else. But his day dreams would have been considered by most of his peers to be in a word, pink, if that is any other than himself had been aware of them. He had absolutely no desire to be in any way feminine and like other typical males of his age from time to time he had sexual fantasies concerning his friend’s mothers and sisters, but naytheless he had a very different view as to what constituted masculinity from that of the males of his acquaintanceship and especially his father, Davy, who he did not get on with. His father would have liked him better if he’d been a male chauvinist bully, and better still if he’d been a chauvinist thug like himself, but his mother, Eunice, was delighted that Fergus was naturally polite, helpful and considerate, especially to girls, but his father unremittingly reviled him for being a sissy. The only reason it had not come to blows between them was that his father was like a lot of bullies a coward and was deep down afraid of Fergus who had for a number of years been bigger and stronger than his father.

Intergalactic Love

“Please leave and trouble us no more with your lies. I may be of Irish descent with strong connections to the Sidhe, but I don’t live in a færie story, and I’m not Cinderella.”

James Kirkpatrick was not quite fourteen, small, and trans. Of a timid disposition she was constantly bullied by both girls and boys alike at school and in the neighbourhood where she lived with Keely her nineteen year old sister.