Monday 16 July 2007

Nature notes

In National Parks round the country, breeding efforts have clearly been hugely successful.

Newly hatched clusters of grannies huddle together. At this stage in their life cycle they're almost defenceless, and without eating their own body weight in custard creams every day will quickly die.

This year, fortunately, there's been a bumper biscuit crop, though the rain has turned the gypsy creams soggy in the middle, making dunking a lonely and messy business. But every cloud has a silver lining - the rain has led to an unexpected benefit: the formerly rare call of "Ooh, you do look nice," such a characteristic part of the mutual grooming ritual, has now become relatively commonplace.

The grannies must also be taught the essential skills that will give them the camouflage that's vital if they are to dodge their natural predators - the muggers and rogue tradesmen. Several of the tamest grannies have been lured into the visitor centre by trained scientists calling, 'One pearl, one plain,' - a cry they're genetically programmed to recognise before birth. To see them manipulate the knitting needles - hesitantly at first, then with increasing speed - is one of nature's marvels. Starting with a small mitten, they quickly graduate to scarves. And by the time they fly off to establish their own territories, each one is sporting the shapeless, indeterminately-coloured cardigan that allows them to blend invisibly into any typical suburban street scene.

Bad Lindy, too, has been harvesting her own crop of men. They seem to have responded well to the rain and this year, the harvest is quite outstanding. Some haven't developed quite as well as she'd like, some have developed almost too well but the end result is the same. There's a man surplus.

She does her best to cope. She takes a couple on holiday and then, as the weather is a little unpredictable in the caravan park, packs a couple of spares to use as blankets for extra warmth.

But one woman just can't deal with them all, and confusion is setting in.

One afternoon, on the way home from the playground, Deborah's bike develops a flat tyre.

A car hoots and slows down. Bad Lindy is in the passenger seat, a man beside her. She is two bottles cheerful.

"Something wrong?" she shrieks. I explain. "Oh, it's no problem. He'll take the bike and drop it off home." She gestures to the man beside her. "Won't you, honey," she says, patting his cheek. He nods, then gets out, and together we load the bike into his boot.

Deborah and I wave as they screech off into the distance.

"Mummy," says Deborah. "They're going the wrong way."

Two hours later, we're home, the bike isn't, and Bad Lindy isn't responding to her texts. I can only assume she's going for a bit of crop rotation.

26 comments:

Mutterings and Meanderings said...

Fantastic! Loved the grannies description and 'two bottles cheerful'. LOL!

Omega Mum said...

M&M: Glad you liked it. I was cycling through a park and there was a group of them all huddled together just as though they were waiting to be fed....

Anonymous said...

Bad Lindy sounds like Lilian in the Archers - does she listen?!

Alda said...

A man surplus?? Oh won't my attractive, smart, fun, SINGLE girlfriends be happy to hear that!! Last I heard around here, there was a shortage.

So - where should I send them?

Omega Mum said...

Beta Mum: I suspect not but will ask. There's certainly no prodigal son in the wings.

Alda: One day, I'm going to post her mobile number. Until then, I'll let her know there's a line forming out there.

DJ Kirkby said...

You are mad, quite mad and delightful. This has been my favorite so far, those grannies need to be made into a movie sort of Wallace and Grommit style!

I Beatrice said...

There's a name for this you know - it's called stereotyping of grannies!

(There's probably a law against it as well.)

I Beatrice said...

Sorry OM, ignore my earlier remarks if you can - you caught me too early in the morning, with sense of humour in abeyance. Really, I can quite see how that image must have been irresistible -and can see the funny side myself, honest I can!

(Best publish neither of these comments, on the whole......)

Omega Mum said...

IB: I got both your comments together. I have to confess, I think I owe you an apology. Before posting this, I wondered if it might be potentially offensive to grannies. It was just this particular group who looked so newly hatched. Then I was overcome with the desire to write so I did, on the assumption that there are grannies and grannies. I hope never to have that fledging look - despite aspiring to grannie status myself. And I'd pretty much guarantee that anyone posting here would be have 'glamourous' rather than fledging as an adjective.

The Good Woman said...

However will Bad Lindy cope? I trust you'll keep us posted.

Omega Mum said...

The good woman: Judging by the absence of the bike (which still hasn't turned up), I'd say even she is struggling. More soon.

Omega Mum said...

DJ: So glad you enjoyed this. It was fun to write.

Suffolkmum said...

Loved this too. Brilliant. Loved the grannies.

Motheratlarge said...

Ah, but when do the fledgling grannies graduate to "rounding the horn"? A famed piece of grannymanship that tests them to the limits of their knitting skills. None but the most stouthearted are up to the task of turning the heel on a pair of baby's booties.

Omega Mum said...

suffolk mum: Glad you enjoyed it

M@L: I'll have to set up a hide and observe them secretly. I'll let you know what happens.

rilly super said...

it's all very well for visitors to the national parks to welcome the sight of the grannies, springing from every hedgerow and tea shop, but what about the poor farmer who has to deal with them, a long hot summer of tripping over thermos flasks, tartan blankets and wurthers originals when he should be filling in his RPA application? Bill Oddie doesn't show that on Springwatch, does he?

Omega Mum said...

Rilly: Fortunately, farmers with any sense are now launching the annual granny cull, swelling their coffers and giving nature a helping hand. Hedge fund managers get the chance to track them, following the marks left by the knitting wool in the ground.

Stay at home dad said...

Great, OM. There has to be a place for a surreal sitcom out there.

Omega Mum said...

SAHD: It would be fun. I bet all the Tristram's are saying that magic realism is so last week, though....(uh oh, too much AA Gill).

Anonymous said...

Stick with the magic realism! 'One plain, one pearl' is a lovely image... think it's 'purl' if it's knitting... or is that part of the magic? I have visions of plain and pearly grannies lining up.

My favourite phrase in the whole thing is 'starting with a small mitten'. Don't know why, it just made me smile.

Omega Mum said...

Anna: Whoops! Sorry about spelling. Think I did it the other day with stirling which is, now I come to think of it, sterling.....Glad you enjoyed it.

Gwen said...

Great Fun Omega Mum. I have a lovely mental picture of these grannies now.

lady macleod said...

My darling I think you have just gone a bit off have you? toppled off the rock did we? LOL well done.

Uh, Bad Lindy isn't an alter ego is she? (I ask hesitantly) I can see where you might need one...

Omega Mum said...

Lady M: Rock or blow to head. But what the hell. There are times when I would like to be Bad Lindy, times when I exaggerate for the purposes of a good story - but no, she is quite definitely founded on reality.

Gwen: Glad you enjoyed it.

Drunk Mummy said...

It's as if I can hear David Attenborough's voice describing the grannies! Hilarious!

Omega Mum said...

Drunk Mummy: I think he'd feel this was very much following in his footsteps.