A tulziesome tyke comes limpin' hame*
Oct. 30th, 2023 08:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
smokingbootAfter the meeting, the celebratory atmosphere spread fast. My regret occurred when, on the steps outside the hall, a group of us were chatting, and the conversation dipped for a moment as Councillor Ringroad's wife appeared. 'Good night,' we all said to her pleasantly enough.
'Is it?' She replied as she wandered off across the road, face like thunder. And it was just in that moment I wanted to rush after her, try to coax her back towards us, join us for the little gathering that was just about to happen, in the spirit of saying we're not mean girls, you're not being ostracised. I didn't because if she came with us, she would be in the same space as the petitioner she obstructed a couple of weeks ago, the woman who accused her of barging. Add alcohol and umbrage and honestly it might get physical.But I didn't want Mrs Ringroad to wander off like that, alone, head down, and may well invite her out for a coffee if I can find the right way to do it. I don't understand her ferocity about what is essentially just a disagreement. She was a teacher after all, she must understand the need for compromise.
There was a little celebration that night, but the night that followed was a proper full on Halloween bash, in a house full of pumpkins, bats, a monster butler, hell hound, witch scratching at the window, three skeletons and a coffin sitting round the garden table and an evil scarecrow; and this was before the guests turned up. We came as Gomez and Morticia. The night eventually moved into singing and dancing, but without a doubt the Friday night meeting took up a fair amount of gossip time before then. I found myself deep in conversation with the neighbourhood Tory, who had a right old twinkle in his eye, and whose attitude towards Mrs Ringroad was rather less relenting than mine.
'Personally, I enjoyed seeing her humiliated,' he confessed to me, 'he is a gentleman compared to his wife. She is a sh*thouse.' I was somewhat surprised at such vehement terminology. The Tory had more to say, once asked.
'The ring road is nothing but a passport to more developments,' he said. 'Notice how the councillor talks about putting a buffer zone around the hills. That would imply that all the land up to that point is fair game. If you look at the earlier plan,' he said, 'you will see there are two names on it. One is the councillor's. The other name belongs to [insert name] an architect who owns land that would be close to the road. So not only could the architect sell that land, he would most likely get paid to put together the development on it, a very pretty penny. And I'm sure he'd be very grateful.'
'So,' I said, slow as ever to get the point; 'this ringroad plan was brought out years ago under both these names,' this I know to be true having seen it, 'and was refused. Now the government bring out new planning laws, Councillor Ringroad creates a proposal for a local plan to be presented to a committee which includes his own wife as vice chair. This committee has the power to present it to West Lothian Council who must acknowledge it. And part of that local plan includes the same rejected ring road as before, but without the architects name...'
The gent lifted his glass with a wry smile.
I wiggled away in my long black wig and dress and partied on, feeling perhaps a little less forgiving towards Mrs Ringroad than before. Still not going to be a mean girl, still going to be gentle with her, though I suspect she'll consider it hypocrisy. But I would like her to know it's not personal, unless money is personal. And if it is, there's not much I can do about that.
* Scottish proverb that translates as 'a quarrelsome dog comes limping home.'
'Is it?' She replied as she wandered off across the road, face like thunder. And it was just in that moment I wanted to rush after her, try to coax her back towards us, join us for the little gathering that was just about to happen, in the spirit of saying we're not mean girls, you're not being ostracised. I didn't because if she came with us, she would be in the same space as the petitioner she obstructed a couple of weeks ago, the woman who accused her of barging. Add alcohol and umbrage and honestly it might get physical.But I didn't want Mrs Ringroad to wander off like that, alone, head down, and may well invite her out for a coffee if I can find the right way to do it. I don't understand her ferocity about what is essentially just a disagreement. She was a teacher after all, she must understand the need for compromise.
There was a little celebration that night, but the night that followed was a proper full on Halloween bash, in a house full of pumpkins, bats, a monster butler, hell hound, witch scratching at the window, three skeletons and a coffin sitting round the garden table and an evil scarecrow; and this was before the guests turned up. We came as Gomez and Morticia. The night eventually moved into singing and dancing, but without a doubt the Friday night meeting took up a fair amount of gossip time before then. I found myself deep in conversation with the neighbourhood Tory, who had a right old twinkle in his eye, and whose attitude towards Mrs Ringroad was rather less relenting than mine.
'Personally, I enjoyed seeing her humiliated,' he confessed to me, 'he is a gentleman compared to his wife. She is a sh*thouse.' I was somewhat surprised at such vehement terminology. The Tory had more to say, once asked.
'The ring road is nothing but a passport to more developments,' he said. 'Notice how the councillor talks about putting a buffer zone around the hills. That would imply that all the land up to that point is fair game. If you look at the earlier plan,' he said, 'you will see there are two names on it. One is the councillor's. The other name belongs to [insert name] an architect who owns land that would be close to the road. So not only could the architect sell that land, he would most likely get paid to put together the development on it, a very pretty penny. And I'm sure he'd be very grateful.'
'So,' I said, slow as ever to get the point; 'this ringroad plan was brought out years ago under both these names,' this I know to be true having seen it, 'and was refused. Now the government bring out new planning laws, Councillor Ringroad creates a proposal for a local plan to be presented to a committee which includes his own wife as vice chair. This committee has the power to present it to West Lothian Council who must acknowledge it. And part of that local plan includes the same rejected ring road as before, but without the architects name...'
The gent lifted his glass with a wry smile.
I wiggled away in my long black wig and dress and partied on, feeling perhaps a little less forgiving towards Mrs Ringroad than before. Still not going to be a mean girl, still going to be gentle with her, though I suspect she'll consider it hypocrisy. But I would like her to know it's not personal, unless money is personal. And if it is, there's not much I can do about that.
* Scottish proverb that translates as 'a quarrelsome dog comes limping home.'
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no subject
Date: 2023-10-30 01:21 pm (UTC)I do envy you your social life. Nobody I know gives parties anymore.
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Date: 2023-10-30 01:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2023-10-30 03:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2023-10-31 06:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2023-10-31 06:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2023-10-31 09:42 am (UTC)