General Chat

My wife belongs to a group of ladies who meet every Monday for sewing.

The group meets in a small town near us and there are probably 12 - 15 regular members.

Each Monday I help her pack the car with the sewing machine and various other things packed in cardboard boxes.

A couple of weeks ago I received a phone call from her saying that she had left her embroidery arm at home (shades of Wurzel Gummidge? ) and could I take it to her.

Having located the said cardboard box, no doubt protected by incantations, and serious spells, I arrived at the meeting venue.

As I walked up to the door, I could hear the chatter of conversation, as well as the clatter of sewing machines.

On entering, the chatter stopped, but the clatter continued.

Thirty pairs of eyes slowly swivelled in my direction.

I had invaded the inner sanctum :-0

What amazed me was that there was only one lady actually at her sewing machine! :-0

The rest (ladies, not machines) were in the kitchen drinking various brews, whilst their sewing machines were automatically continuing.

This got to thinking about the phantom RR'r ;-)

I was not aware that sewing machines could carry out a task by themselves.

Mine was my mother's and there was nothing automatic about her...

Are they programmed to do this.... ? Oh I get it Phantom RR'ers clatter away and flip their bobbin automatically.

Yes this would definitely needle quite a few of us when it happens.

Oh's machine is programmable. You set the pattern, and the machine does the rest.

However, this tale is not about machines but a secret society ;-)

Watch this space, and I can promise that you will not have to watch it for long :-D :-D

What if there is not one phantom (or secret ) RR'r but a world wide network whose aims is to restore righteous thinking, and public morality, to the masses.

Imagine, if you will, a dark winter's night.

A figure surreptitiously slips out from the front door of the house, collar turned up and hat pulled down, clutching a small case.

This case contains the 'Regalia', a small black laptop computer and a collar of twisted wires.

This is a junior member!

Senior members have larger cases and their laptops are of a different hue.

The junior member, casting a swift glance left and right, scurries off down the street.

Allan - you have just blown this Secret Society's secret!

Not yet, Dermot, just give me time ;-) :-D :-D

Allan - Please tell me more about secret societies - You have my undivided attention. :-D :-D :-D :-D :-D :-D :-D ;-) ;-) ;-) ;-)

GP

All will be revealed GP, at least within the bounds of discretion ;-) :-D :-D

Dermot and GP you will need to learn the secret handshake..

I don't think you have delved into secret societies yet in your writings Dermot.. so maybe you should take notes..

I nearly always enjoy your writing.

Persie

Persephone - I'm taking notes - what comes after secret hand shakes. :-D :-D :-D :-D :-D :-D ;-) ;-) ;-) ;-) ;-) ;-)

GP

:-D :-D :-D :-D :-D

I DO HOPE THAT YOU ARE GOING TO FINISH THIS STORY ALLAN....

..isn't that right Perse!!! :-D :-D

GP- It also involves a certain dance routine..ay Allan ;-) ;-) ;-)

Not actually a dance, Jem, more trying to avoid a goat :-S ;-) :-D :-D

I didn't know animals were involved. :-0 :-0 :-0 :-0 :-D :-D :-D ;-) ;-) ;-)

GP

Sometimes, but I wish to assure readers that none were harmed in the writing of this fable ;-) :-D :-D

Very Troll

OK, Persie, you've caught me out :-(

The goats are used to feed the trolls who hide under the bridge ;-)

;-) Now where have I "herd" that before.

I can see why you two are such good friends!!! ...Herd :-D :-D :-D

From all directions, these anonymous people scuttle off to their meeting room.

All greet each other as brother or sister ( this being an equal opportunity secret society) and enter the robing room.

There, snippets of conversation can be heard:

"bit bl**dy parky out there" ; "that wind was fair winding my neeps tonight"; "Bugger, I've left me Hdml cable at our Flo's"

Still, soon all are ready, the long flowing pinnies donned and the brethren and sistren make their way to the Room.

The terms Brethren and Sistren (and if medical personnel are involved, Doctrine) are rather cumbersome so I will combine them into the unisex word Blisters for ease of understanding.

The Boss (the big Blister) calls the meeting to order

"Have all Blisters registered?"

There's one, there's always one, who sheepishly rises and says "Oops!"

The big Blister stares at the recalcitrant blister and sighs. "Get thee without and so do!"

On the blister's return, the formal meeting commences.

:-D :-D :-D :-D :-D :-D :-D :-D


The Long-Pinnied Sistren sound like the Stepford Wives :-D