The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2710 by Angharad Copyright© 2015 Angharad

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This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
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I’d made several girls happy and one, especially so. What is it about red shoes and bags? It’s not just me, there was that film with Moira Shearer—I saw it as a kid and loved it, then Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz wears red shoes. I’m sure there are more. I know I was envious of a pair my mother used to wear when I was a girl and as soon as I could I bought myself a pair, plus of course Stella gave me a pair of red boots. As for red bags, if you have red shoes then a matching bag is essential—but only if you’re going somewhere special. I use a black leather bag most of the time whatever my footwear and most of the women I see have differing coloured bags and shoes, but at least I’m trying to teach my daughters the basics, what they do after that is up to them.

It was a lovely afternoon and we got a line of washing dried and ate out on the patio without being eaten alive ourselves. During the early afternoon the antics of the birds showed us that the ants were swarming. Trish spotted a nest and we went to watch, as they arose through the grass the ground appeared to be moving, alive with these glossy black insects who would make their virgin flights, consecrate their nuptials and probably get eaten by hungry birds all in the same day. Those that survive and have mated will chew off their wings—they’re no use underground—and form their own colonies, becoming queens in their own right. They will have saved enough sperm from their mates to lay hundreds of eggs, most of which will be worker ants who will then dedicate themselves selflessly to the colony. To humans, it seems rather a robotic thing to do, to give up a life to serve a mistress, but it has to be remembered that in most social insects, such as the bees, wasps and ants, the colony are all composed of the same genes so it’s about preserving those for the next generation. Arguably, the higher animals including humans, invest much in their children and obviously their genes that we have evolved complex and sophisticated mechanisms for pair bonding and child-parent bonding. We like to think that we developed love through our abilities to rise above the animals—no that was our cognitive abilities, which may also be involved in protecting and nurturing our families—the emotional stuff, which makes us human—a medium sized, hairless ape—is designed to protect our genetic material by protecting the package it comes in—our children. Remember, human offspring aren’t really independent until they’re about thirty five—if you’ve managed to get rid of them by then. Actually, they’re independent in their late teens but not fully grown and their prime starts around their early twenties.

Emotional elements of us are much more ancient than our cognitive intellects. I suspect our ancestral species of hominids had much the same sort of affections for their children as we do for our own, but obviously as life has become more complex, especially in our social interactions, our emotions find it hard to cope which seeing as they’re probably the same as our caveman ancestors. Even our intellects often can’t cope with modern life—I know when my computer has a funny turn, I can’t cope with it and have to get Sammi to sort it.

I roused myself and after watching the ants flying to their destinies and the stomachs of many different species of bird, went to do some more work on the survey. Daddy was doing hardly anything on it these days, so I was effectively the director of it. It took nearly as much of my time as the department did. I decided that when Delia went off to become a student, I’d keep her on as a secretary or clerical support for the survey, which would mean she earned some money without it being too onerous and without her having access to confidential material about herself or fellow students. We’d advertised for a replacement and Pippa and she had drawn up a shortlist to be interviewed. I hate doing interviews but seeing as the new recruit would be my personal secretary, I had to be involved. Sometimes the thought of how simple life was when I used to count dormice for a living felt very attractive. Nowadays I seem to spend almost as much time counting my children to make sure none are missing.

For the older ones, viz., Jacquie, Julie, Phoebe and Sammi, we agreed—that’s them agreeing to me making rules for them to follow—that if they were not going to appear for a meal they let the cook know. That usually means telling David or me, if he has time off. The adults, and I use the term advisedly, are also supposed to say if they’ll be absent for meals. Usually, it’s Si who misses out on David’s cooking as he does have to spend time away through his work; though it isn’t unknown for me to occasionally miss as well and so does Stella. She does have a life away from the house now, she’s back in work at the hospital and takes her girls to the crèche. Pudding will be starting nursery in September, guess where? If we pay much more in fees, we should be able to claim majority shareholder rights.

Simon eventually rolled in for dinner, smelling of beer. He’d taken a cab to the rugby club and got a lift home. He was cock a hoop with the Ashes result and told me he’d won two grand from his Aussie friend, plus another because they won the series without it going to the final match—England lead by three to one, with one last match to be played. How he can risk such large sums of money without blinking annoys me, especially when he complains because I just spent seventy pounds on a pair of shoes for one of the girls—school shoes at that. But that is Simon. If I asked him for the money, he’d just hand me his card and tell me to take what I wanted, but now and again he grumbles, possibly so I don’t take him or his money for granted. I don’t plus I have the fallback position of having a reasonable amount of my own and do in fact spend much of it on the children, but I let him pay for their school uniforms—a ritual we go through in August every year, and will have added Hannah to the list for this one.

I know there were grants available for her as she’s not one of my children, but she is one of the family now, so we’ll treat her the same as the others as long as she stays with us and buy her clothing for her. I do get a monthly amount for her as her foster parent, but I have that paid into an account for her to access if she goes to university—so that could be when she’s eighteen or nineteen, or if she goes to work instead, she gets it when she’s twenty five. She has no idea the account exists. Simon manages them for all the children and he kick started all of them with a couple of thousand. He told me that as Hannah seemed to be staying, he’d done the same for her. I thanked him and told him he was wonderful and agreed to prove it to him when we went to bed if he’s sobered up by then and doesn’t fall asleep on the sofa.

The joys of being a working married woman and parent.