Tuesday, July 10, 2007


I suspect that anyone coming here to be appalled by the foul deeds of a man and his dog, or perhaps tales of dysfunctional housework must have been a tad miffed over the past couple of weeks. I am not sure what’s going on here on Hallett’s Mountain. And if I am not sure then what hope have you dear reader. I am always anxious to steer away from the fluffy kitten blog of course. I choose not to stray into other more worldly areas as well, as noted from time to time. I can only say that I have had my mind on womens underwear.
Mothers of small children, fear not. While I shall set googletraps in this post, I won’t cross the line. ……just don’t follow the links….
On the weekend I found myself faced with a dilemma that I was unable to refer to Miss Manners.
My guests, the honeymooners, had left, and I decided to spruce the old place up ready for the summer. I have to say that they left it shiny as a new pin. Spotless. And they cooked a very nice loaf of bread and left it in the kitchen where me and The Boy buttered it for breakfast. So. Before going out to mow the grass, a source of unfathomable male pleasure, I just stuck my nose in the other rooms.
The Tegan (I fear I am doomed to call her such, as I did it the first time by mistake and I am too embarrassed to admit another editorial mistake) was visited by her sister while on the mountain. The whole brood stayed up here for one night, so I thought it best just to see that they hadn’t left anything.
Staring at me from the right hand side of the spare bed, was an item of intimate feminine apparel. Laundered, I hasten to add, and folded in a manner that suggests that the owner was distracted, perhaps by a small child,just before putting them back in a travelling bag.
I was going to post them back through the door of the presumed owner when I paused for thought. There are several possible misinterpretations of such an action, and none of them really lead to a good outcome. Even leaving a note could overly complicate the situation, and besides what on earth could I write. Plus they might have been there for longer. Left by an earlier guest and overlooked by my pathetic attempts at tidiness. I don’t stray in to that room very often and the retrieval and folding could have been a polite gesture intended to prevent me embarrassing another soul sometime in the future. Or they could have been left there by The Boy… or one of his mates… circumstances that wouldn’t bear close scrutiny. The more I contemplated the lace trimmed little beggars, the worse it got.
Hallett’s Mountain is aware that there are internet sites on which second hand underwear sells well, but I have always felt a little uneasy about repeat visits. Besides which these were, clean.
I stuffed them in my pocket and continued my sweep, eager for something that I could perhaps sell on ebay.
A Couple of days later I was out walking the dog. While paused to exchange doggy pleasantry with the woman from the wine shop and her mate from the other side of the river, I noticed that Asbo was grunting and straining over the council flower bed. Delving deep into my pocket for a plastic bag I …… you’ve got there before me haven’t you…. Lest just say that I think we may be walking towards the Marina for a week or two until I know for certain whether the CCTV cameras were on.

I guess it could have been worse. Imagine if She Of The Townhouse had found them. Innocent explanation aside I shall be a lot more careful if faced with a similar situation in the future.

And ladies, please, try and remember where you left 'em.


gypsydove said...

You are so... verbose and yet so delicate in your wording... and you make me smile every day that I read one of your posts...

I think you couldn;t have handled it any better...

headless chicken said...

At least the underwear was clean...Our old dog Eric (r.i.p) was very good at ferreting my knickers out from the linen basket then leaving them scattered around the house...often in the hallway in full view of anyone who came to the front door! I also used to find them in the garden...still at least they were mine and K never used to stash any in his pockets along with the dog-poo bags....as far as I know!!!:)

me said...

"little beggars"!!!

never have i heard them refered to as such. i am in awe.

john.g. said...

Like it! Did you launder them after picking up the said deposit? (dog-shit).

richenda said...

How about:
Bishops, remember ....

Seriously, this really happened to a shy young curate's wife in the 1950s.
A bishop came to stay for three nights
On the first morning, SYCW made his bed and found therein a pyjama jacket, which she placed on top of the pillow and under the counterpane.
Ditto on the second morning.
After he had left, she moved the bed to hoover, and a pair of pyjama trousers appeared on the floor between bed and wall.
She posted them to him, without comment.
On reflection, this seems a very mild story - the SYCW was my mother, and you can't imagine how agonizing was this experience.

DaveM said...

Like it, a good tale. Have you thought about incorporating an embellished, adjusted version in your story for the cognitive therapist. I wonder what the diagnosis would be?

bydingmytyme said...

a bit like the time I mistook a disposable female accessory for a lighter when fishing it out of my handbag and offering it to a male i was attempting to chat up. better that than having SOTTH emptying your pockets on washing day.

Alice Band said...

Da Iawn. Saw your messages on Petite's and Sally's blogs. I have friends living in Conwy but I'm a South Walian myself.

buffalodickdy said...

Reminds me of an old joke I heard- Fred is in the locker room, changing into his sweatsuit. While he is standing in his underwear, his buddy Bill comes in locker room and stares at him. "Fred, how long have you been wearing womens' panties?" "Ever since my wife found a pair of them in my car glove box".

Sally Lomax said...


I can feel for you.

Like HC I have had a few emabarrassing moments over the years when young children have disposed of slightly damp knickers in interesting places...

I'll say no more!

Lori said...

That is a funny story! They came in handy at least.

meredic said...

gypsydove – how kind of you.,,,if indeed I should have handled it at all of course :-)

headless chicken – Eric sounds like Asbo’s older sibling

me – really? What do you call the little beggars then?

john.g - pick it up? Lord no, I tried to cover my confusion and swapped them for a bag.

richenda – that’s very funny. And a very nice observation on a different age.

DaveM – heh heh. I’m sorry, is there something odd about carrying womens underwear in your pocket.

bydingmytyme – they cant be a real bugger to light can’t they!

Alice Band – Croeso. Every country has a south… ;-)

buffalodickdy – very good!

sally – I think that saying no more is probably best!!!

Lori – They certainly didn’t cover my embarrassment. Mind you they wouldn’t have covered a much smaller embarrassment either!

Thank you all for taking the time.

Fi said...

1) My Landy is not even old. Its a 96 Defender. I too feel a twinge when I see it, a tightening of the purse strings...
2) Yes pics through a hand lens are tricky. Let me know if you succeed
3) Your own artichokes?! Please say they are, that would be amazing.
d) I found a pair of black lacies in the sleeve of a boyfriends jacket once. He didn't have your way with words though, so it turned into a very quiet moment. They did predate me thankfully. Little slut ;)