Cordless Phone

Once again trawling my Facebook Archives has produced little to amuse so I’m resorting to my ancient Morris dancers blog.  This was the twentyseventh and first published on 27^th March 2008.

Chateau Midden Cordless Phone

Tyne Bridge Morris has our first dance out of 2008 this Saturday at Morpeth Gathering:  Thunderthighs has just reminded me of something that happened at the Gathering a couple of years ago.

Tyne Bridge Morris’ kit comprises blue skirt and waistcoat, white blouse, black tights and clogs and red sash.  Some of us are fortunate enough to have big blue woolly jackets to match.  As Morpeth can be chilly (it will be this year) I normally take mine to wear mine when we’re not dancing.  I always put my kit on (except clogs) before going to a booking as I can’t be bothered to find places to change, or to carry extra clothing. 

However much information I hand/email out, and however often they are told, before most bookings someone will always phone me to check on times, meeting places or whatever, invariably when I’m upstairs putting tights onto freshly showered legs.

One Morpeth Gathering morning a couple of years ago Mrs East phoned me at the crucial moment.  Having a cordless phone meant the handset could be brought to me, infinitely more convenient than getting downstairs with half-mast tights.  Having given her the details yet again I finished dressing, put on my jacket, and remembered to take the phone downstairs.  I also remembered to put my mobile in my clog bag.

The drive to Morpeth was uneventful, parking was easy.  

I got my mobile out of the clog-bag and slipped it into my left hand pocket.

Walking into town I felt something heavy in my right hand pocket.

I put both hands in both pockets and brought a phone out of each.

One mobile and one cordless phone handset.

I had a vision of someone phoning us and Fester getting increasingly exasperated whilst failing to find the handset.  Although this image was amusing I also knew that he would assume (with good reason) that one of the children had moved it. 

Ferretfingers’ autism causes him to echo back any question he doesn’t understand or know the answer to.  I could see things getting fraught to the point of apoplexy – or worse.

 

Fortunately we have another line into the office in our house (ok box room over the stairs) so I could phone Fester on that and leave a message.