rolling with hard core folks

I acquired an invite to a book club in my Mother in law's village. My sister in law came too. It turned into a fairly entertaining evening. She and I were likely the youngest by about thirty years. The other ladies were of a mature age and very funny. This was a nice sort of book club where you aren't reading the exact same book. At this one (after the cheese sticks, cider, and wine have been passed about) you just discuss what you have been reading, people might ask questions about it, you give you various two cents about something, and maybe bring a few more books to throw into the communal pile. Everyone goes around and chats about this and that. In between all of that, there was what I might describe as the usual rural Britain talk. Gossip about other people in the greater area, (including dead writers who wrote bad poetry) how the cutting is going in the fields. (they are up half the night, despite the weather being fair, but it seems that when the contracted cutters show up, they will stay until the work is done.) who is taking over a family farm, who has a new flock of sheep, the admiration of someone's built up head of cattle, and the best manner in which to clean your fleece. (you begin with borax to get rid of assorted bugs, and then you can wash with laundry soap, just so you know.) A highlight was someone mentioning someone's sheep now being moved to their field and someone saying, "oh they are there? Tsk.. he said he would have the sheep in my field to graze soon." I don't think it was a euphemism... Then of course as many of the ladies volunteer in the village shop, there was literal shop talk. And more gossip about people in the villages. Somehow we made our way back to literature. One of the ladies is in a poetry club, where many of the members are down-right ancient. She was trying to talk some into joining. It seems that at one point there was someone who had been asked to join, and it turned out no one liked him and he turned out to be a bounder. Geriatric poetry clubs are a hot bed of potential sexual activity. Remember that. One of the ladies asked if the poems were rather... respectable. The lady who is a member said oh no... she then recalled a poem she had read that went over well. The poem seemed to be one of those where every other word was "fucking". So imagine if you will sitting in a lovely rural home by a warm fire with a bunch of ladies who are in their sixties and seventies, while a very sweet looking lady who used to be an English teacher, is saying fuck over and over. Everyone was in the floor with giggles, including my Mother in law who I do not swear in front of because I don't. I covered my face at one point because I was laughing so hard and slightly blushing. I was accused of being shocked by such things. I said, "oh I doubt that could ever shock me." I didn't add, "because my Mother has a mouth like that."
Then there was more book talk, which included stuff about Mapp & Lucia. I surprised a few by knowing of the books. (working in a library with a bunch of anglophiles helped) Some recalled characters much like those when they were children. There was some good talk about how it showed the hypocritical nature of middle-class English culture, how it is evocative of a certain age, and how wound up people get about gardening.
There was another book that someone talked about that dealt with the evacuation of children during WWII, and my Mother in law talked about her Mother's experience of being sent out into the countryside during the wary. I've heard Nanny D mention some of her experiences. The first family she was put with, was awful, and then she was placed with another family and was able to be with her brother again and life was much better. In fact she kept in contact with her foster family until they died, because they meant a great deal to her. They were placed in Kent and would watch the German bombers flying on their way to bomb London. Equally exciting and terrifying to a child's eye.
I ended up taking a book home, passing one onto my sister in law, and made plans to meet again. Seriously people. Hang with older ladies, they are a scream. There was one in particular I really liked. I thought, "Oh I want to be her when I grow up." She was incredibly clever and funny, plus so put together.

Today Senor Onion's teacher was out sick and so the substitute teacher (or supply teacher as they are called here) turned out to be someone I know. A slightly odd moment, as until recently she was a close friend of my sister inlaw's and for some reason this friend decided to drop my sister in law ever since the former took up with a new friend. (who has a reputation for being a trifle bitchy.) It was all very junior high. My sister in law was pragmatic about it and said, "I don't have time for this kind of thing. It was just surprising." And while I know all about this, there was the polite cheerful conversation with the former friend. Oh well, eh? It is funny that the supply teacher first met Senor Onion, when he was about four weeks old. Not often you have a teacher who knows a child so intimately.