Feminine
Persuits
by Oonah V
Joslin
I was a bit
late to the Lady’s Craft Circle, so I
sneaked in and sat down quiet-like. The coffee
smelt nice and the home baked biscuits were laid
out on a fancy doily. As the new girl, I’d
decided to keep my mouth shut and play it by ear.
I’d brought some mending.
“Every
house in the street got a letter. It offers to
take our case to Brussels if necessary on a No
win – No pay basis,” said Edith Price.
“Brussels?”
said Mrs. Burke, “I wouldn’t take a
case of mumps to Brussels. Charlie and I went to
Brussels once and…damn! Isn’t that the
trouble with knitting socks on four needles?
I’ll have to get one of those stitch-counter
stoppers.
“What
case is that?” Millie Petree was crocheting
a blanket for the third world but it was doubtful
the third world would ever be that desperate.
“About
the road noise,” said Edith. Her prayer mat
was coming along nicely.
“What
road noise?”
“From the
new bypass.”
Corrie Lemon
lived right up at the top of the village, near
the main through-road and would tapestry your
backside if you didn’t sit quickly enough.
“But the new bypass will cut traffic through
the village, so there’ll be less noise.”
“But
it’ll attract more traffic than the old road,”
said Greta Hunt, “so there could be more
noise.”
I supposed
noise was an important consideration when
you’re on your fourth pair of bootees.
“Where?”
asked Millie.
“Near the
bypass.”
“Well, I
live right next to the bypass and we haven’t
heard so much as construction noise since they
built the baffles,” assured Mrs. Bartle
attending to her French Knots – the silk
ribbon was just so delicate to work with….
“We even held a barbeque last week and the
baffles completely cushioned the noise.” The
others exchanged smiles. Less because of the bad
pun than the fact that Mrs. Bartle’s husband
just happened to be the subsidiary contractor.
“What are
baffles anyhow?” asked Greta.
“Any
barrier that prevents light, liquid or noise from
getting through,” said Mrs. Bartle.
“In this
case, a big mound of earth with trees planted
along it,” said Edith. “I still
can’t fathom why we got the letter at all.”
“What
letter?” said Millie.
“Solicitors
drumming up business,” said Mrs. Bartle,
ignoring her. “That’s what my Derek
said. After all they’ve already built the
baffles.”
“What
baffles?” asked Millie.
“Everything
apparently…” remarked Mrs. Bartle.
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