The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2536 by Angharad Copyright© 2014 Angharad

“I was thinking back to when my mother taught me how to make a dress.”

“Wow, you were lucky, my mum can hardly sew a button on.”

“I thought you could do your own these days?” I threw back at her.

“Yeah, but it’s nicer when someone does it for you.”

“Is it?” I mused out loud. “If you’re very busy somebody doing something for you, which you could do yourself if there was more time, like making a cup of tea...” None of them took the hint. “Like making a cuppa, you mean?”

“Yeah, Auntie Cathy, we can all make tea for ourselves but it tastes much better when someone makes it for you.”

But they don’t in this house they’re too bloody thick. “Hmm, I could just do with one.”

“What about my dress?” asked Danni.

“It’ll have to wait while I make myself a cuppa, won’t it?”

“Make her a cuppa, Cind, or we’ll never get started,” Danielle urged her friend.

“I’ll do it,” sighed the brain, strolling off to the kitchen.

“Make Cindy one as well.”

“Zap—you’re a cup of tea,” said Trish turning at the doorway. Cindy nearly collapsed in laughter.

“That is so funny,” she said tears running down her face. Given that Trish has very good dramatic or comedic timing meant that the throwaway was delivered very well, but I still think the girl needs to get out more. “You’re all so funny, it’s one of the reasons I like to come.”

Some people seem easily pleased, but then we all fell about laughing watching her reaction, which was funnier than the joke, especially when you’ve heard it ad nauseum.

I cleared the dining table of the decorative centre piece and spread the velvet protector across the table. We’d work on the table, or try to, if necessary we also had the floor, but my back preferred working at a decent height rather than crawling round the carpet.

Trish brought the two teas back on a tray and Cindy and I thanked her for her trouble. The first thing, measure your model. I took the tape out of my sewing basket and called out the measurements in inches—they all looked at me as if I were a cavewoman. I’d been brought up with both systems, SI in school and university and imperial at home. It was my parents’ stand against becoming part of a European super state, to ask for pints of milk and pounds of spuds. I’m happy with either, it’s when you mix them the wotsit hits the fan, or not if the directions to the transmitter are mixed.

For the next hour we trimmed the pattern, pinned it to the material and marked then cut it out. By that time it was time for another cuppa and food. David had done some scrambled egg with smoked salmon on top with crumpets as a base. Two of those and I was full as a pig. I did find room to force down some more tea—I’m such a martyr—before reconvening our dressmaking class. This dress was going to be more complicated than the one my mother had shown me, including things like facings and bound hems. I’d bought several lots of petersham and bias binding. I meant the dress would take longer to make, but they’d learn a few new tricks as we went along, plus the fact the material would run unless it was over-sewn or overlocked as they sometimes call it.

After lunch,Trish and Livvie had had enough of playing at seamstresses and went off to play on their computers. I asked them not to reprogram the international space station. Trish went off cackling. I’ve searched her part of the room but I can’t find a broomstick or cauldron.

Cindy and Danielle stuck it for another hour before admitting they’d had enough. “I didn’t realise dressmaking was so complicated, Auntie Cathy.”

“It depends on the pattern and the material. This one will run unless we either overlock it or bind the hems with bias binding.”

“I thought cutting them with pinking shears also stopped it running.”

“It will with some but not this one, so we over-sew the seams and bind the hem. It gives a more professional finish and it’s more robust regarding washing.”

“I’m really enjoying it, I wish Sister Ignatius had your patience and way of teaching us.”

I shrugged, it wasn’t my place to comment on other teachers. I know Trish calls her Sister Ignoramus, and torments the life out of the poor woman, or did until I stopped them doing scripture lessons, but they do current affairs and Trish clashed with her over global warming. The pope has declared he’s going to help stop it. If he can, I’ll consider the things I do small beer by comparison and admit it to anyone. The problem is global and somehow despite Christianity growing in leaps and bounds in China, I can’t see them cutting CO2 emissions because some well meaning chap in a white dress asked them. But I’m pleased to have him on side—better than his predecessor suggesting transsexuals were the cause of all sin or something similar. I ask you, when did I last commit a sin—apart from that—okay those ones. I’ll have to ask for a few more to be taken into consideration.

Cindy sat and talked with me while Danni was upstairs shoving a broom handle somewhere quite tender, and may well be walking funny for a short time afterwards. She asked me about dormice and how I got into them. I explained that I was better at counting things than chopping things up or boiling them in test tubes, having done things like counted hedgehogs when I was a schoolkid. I was invited to help a postgrad student at Sussex and fell in love with the little critters. It’s perhaps ironic that I went on to become an authority on them and he disappeared without trace—I think he went to Canada to study wolves or polar bears or unicorns. I took over his project, transferred it to Portsmouth, did my master’s and doctoral degree and the rest is history so to speak.

“Danni said she sometimes comes with you when you count your dormice?”

“She’s come a couple of times.”

“D’you think I could, I’d love to learn more about them. Your film was so interesting.”

“You want to come on a survey?”

“Yes please.”

“Unless we have a very early spring, that probably won’t be until late April or even May.”

She nodded.

“Okay. I have to warn you it’s hard walking in rough woodland so you’ll need clothing and footwear to cope with it. If it rains, you’ll probably get rather wet.”

“I’ll cope.”

“Okay, remind me in the spring and you can come along.”

“Thank you, I really appreciate it. I know I’ll never be as clever as you or Trish, but I’d like to be part of it.”

“Sometimes I’d rather work with enthusiasm rather than clever people. Enthusiasts do as you tell them clever people often think they know better.”