We sadly said farewell to sister Barbara, Thom, and their four children as they started on the last leg of their homeward journey. We had such a great visit with them and hated to see them go. Now to keep my mind off sadness, I’ll go back to the beginning of our holiday.
We timed our departure well – just as kings of the Middle Ages left their castles when the plumbing was over-loaded, we left home at 3:30 a.m. after the upstairs toilet overflowed twice.
We all missed John $, but we know he was happier staying with the Aunt Barbara and Uncle Thom in England than he would have been cooped up in a car going to Norway. Wasn’t it a mind-boggling offer for a family of six to care for a temporary orphan? We hesitated, not wanting to ruin their holiday, but the temptation was too great for that extra freedom for us to insist we would take him with us. When we returned two and a half weeks later, $ was as happy as a clam. He learned to say Amen after grace, to take off clothes which have been partially removed, and to pull people down on the floor to play with him. He has seen more of London than I have, having been treated to trips to the zoo, museums, and stores.
On the way from the South of England to the North, we stopped in Durham and heard a boy choir rehearsing for a concert. It made the church so alive. The two notables buried there are St. Cuthbert and Venerable Bede.
In Newcastle we boarded a ferry and discovered our cabin for the 25-hour trip was larger than one in a Pullman car. The bathroom was tiny, but even equipped with a shower.
The first port of call was Stavanger, a delightful town of little white wooden houses, tiny streets, and flowers. We had enjoyed watching the steep hills of Norway pass by for several hours before getting our first good look at the country at Stavanger. All the trees were pushed up on the steeper parts of the hills. The backdrop of mountains appeared painted behind the crystal clear row of hills near the harbor. We soon left that town and sailed to Bergen.
Finn F., a broker who does business with John, met the ferry, led us to our hotel, and arranged for his family and ours to eat at a downtown hotel. We ate shrimp cocktail and a delicate Norwegian catfish with herbs. [John explained that Finn’s family welcomed our coming. If John had been there alone, they would have had to stay at home while Finn went out with him. Since John had his family with him, Finn’s family was included. We all enjoyed it.]
I’m sorry there are no photos to share, but it does make for a shorter post.
We’ve had a marvelous time with John’s sister Chris, Steve, and children Barbara and Chrissie. Surprisingly, our girls didn’t complain about having to go to school while Barbara and Chrissie were free to do what they wanted. Two days they spent more time in London than Lisa and Kate did in school.
Chris and Steve
It’s been so much fun for me to have someone to giggle with. Do you know, I almost believed I had become more proper, until Chris came when I reverted to my normal American self. I know John was glad to have someone around to talk about stuffy, serious things with.
John $ got hold of the stick we use for pulling down the attic stairs. I thought it harmless enough until I saw him swinging it at the ceiling light fixture as if it were a pinata.
The relatives arrived Tuesday and came home with John on the train. We insisted Steve had to sit in the front immediately so that he could get a good view of left-hand driving. He properly appreciated it. I don’t know whether he might have shaken with pleasure of seeing us or fright at being on the wrong side of the road.
I was home bound for two days while the car was in for repairs. Some garage in Epsom was supposed to do something on a part and return it to Walton, but they goofed. The car was inoperable overnight; the mechanic offered to have a man drive me to Reigate to get the girls in the afternoon and to send the same man to take them to school the following morning. What a God send! Those two days our relatives were in London, anyway, so the lack of a car did not hamper us unduly.
John $ reading to his sisters in school uniforms and cousins
Wednesday they took a bus sightseeing tour and then saw Westminster Abbey and Cathedral, a street fair, Buckingham Palace, and the Royal Mews where the carriages and horses are kept. I’m sure they saw more than that, but it’s all my fuzzy brain remembers. I found most interesting their telling that the coaches were all labeled saying who is to ride in which one for the Royal wedding. The signs also tell which would be used in case of rain. What happens if it rains during the ceremony, but not before? For that the weather forecasters need coaching.
Thursday, among other things I’m sure, they saw the changing of the guard from the vantage point of center front and later shopped on Oxford Street. That day they saw some of the preparations for the garden party the Queen had at Buckingham Palace in the afternoon.
Chris had her conducted tour of Micklefield with the headmistress, Miss Kinman, Friday morning while the rest of us wandered the town of Reigate. The 10p car tour included our last house and church. Boots and Woolworth’s were experienced before we greeted Paula and friend in Co op. Following lunch, Chrissie helped Mr. Clewes while Barbara and I explored a footpath and Chris drove the car. Later Steve had a chance and said he’d rather drive on the wrong side than feel like a sitting duck in the passenger seat. Dorking and Box Hill tours brought us circling home.
Chrissie was a big help to Mr. Clewes – he said he wouldn’t have finished clearing up the debris if she hadn’t helped. Barbara helped me in the kitchen, and one night I’d have never gotten the meal on the table if she hadn’t arranged the salad and fixed the appetizer. Many thanks, girls.
Yesterday we went to Windsor Castle. The day we went with my brother and his family, I felt it was on the other side of everywhere, since I was driving. John seemed to have no trouble finding his way quickly and easily. We lucked out on the parking, too, finding a lot open just across the street from the nearest visitor entrance to the castle. I think I enjoyed seeing the State Apartments more this time since I’ve read so much more English history than I had before the first visit. Couldn’t have had anything to do with the fact that I had charge of $ the first time and not the second!
We saw boys rowing down the Thames practicing for a regatta. I’m glad to have seen that, since it is another British institution.
While we were looking across the green to the buildings where the royal family stays when in residence, several soldiers marched up to inspect the sentry there. We howled at the high pitched, cracking voice of the tall soldier in charge. It seemed so out of character for him to have such a voice. I signaled John to walk $ around behind the soldiers standing near us so that we could get him in the picture with them. John said later that $ was frightened when they first marched up. From the perch on his father’s shoulders, $ ogled them until they marched away.
We had been invited by Mr. Wolters, the agent for the house in Reigate, to come to the Claygate Flower show. It is his pride and joy, since he is the head of the organizing group. There were a few tents with displays, but the biggest drawing card seemed to be the carnival rides. It was the highlight of the day for four girls.
While the fathers took the children for their thrills, Chris and I trooped through the tents. I was shocked at how few entries there were. Perhaps I thought it would be like the Mid-South fair, and that it wasn’t! In many cases, there was only a first prize, there being no other entries in that category. The most popular entries in the pet tent were rabbits and parakeets. There was one common alley cat calmly lying in his cage, having won first prize since he was the only cat there. I struck my funny bone.
There was a small band of bagpipes and drums that marched in the central roped-off area. Their bright red kilts were striking, and we noticed the daggers in their socks. I was surprised to note that they all played the same notes; you could tell by watching their fingers.
We found Mr. Wolters in the secretary’s tent and spoke to him for several minutes. Just a few days ago he’d sent our three children crown coins minted in honor of the Royal Wedding. We are so glad to have these keepsakes.
This morning all except $ and I drove to see St. Paul’s Cathedral and to worship at the Abbey. While I took a bath, John $ emptied my gadget drawer in the kitchen. Now he is scattering the contents of the desk drawers all over the bedroom.
We tried to get a picture of $’s pose when Chris and Steve left their bedroom door open. He strutted in and made himself at home sitting on the clothes in their open suitcase as if it were a golden throne. He was reading a romance novel belonging to Chris.
Back to Windsor – Bob, I took special time to look at all the carvings by Grinling Gibbons this time, thanks to your sparking of my interest. I was glad to be able to recognize lots of the portraits, too, from my reading.
Soon the rest of the clan will return from London. We’ll have a quick bite, and go through the awful time of saying goodbye to people we’d rather not see the backs of.
Back row: Barbara, Lisa, neighbor Catherine. Front row: Kate, Chrissie, neighbor Philippa
What a jolly crowd of relatives and neighbors!
John $ has now gathered the scattered items and put them in the laundry basket, pushing them around the room barge style. Why do we buy toys?
We’re leaving for Norway next Saturday. We’ll see Bergen, Oslo and parts of Denmark and Sweden. Think we return here August 13.
John $ has been trying to say “Mr. Clewes”. His best effort resulted in calling the man to his face, “Cuckoo”!
We’ve had a heat wave. At least that’s what the natives say. John, in London, was under heavy skies. He had two inches of rain and some hail and lightning so close it made the hair on his neck stand up. We in Walton were outside chasing $ in the sunshine, and we’re only 15 to 20 miles away. We heard no thunder.
Since the temperature was so warm, we’ve spent time outdoors. $ loves to lull you into thinking he will stay put, and then streak off under full steam. We found a way to slow him down. Simply removing his shoes prevents him from running on the gravel. At first he stayed on the lawn, but has gradually ventured further, though not at high speed.
Our nasturtiums are blooming! Granted, Mr. Clewes did dig up the ground and plant the seeds, but I watered, weeded and fed them. I’m still surprised my black thumb didn’t do them in.
With the car in the shop, nowhere to go and nothing to do, John $ was at loose ends. I gave in and let him play with water in the kitchen sink. It would have been a good selling point for a new mop! He flicked water a radius of five feet. I’m sure at times he looked like a magnified version of a bird taking a bath.
While walking home from town, I met the lady who’d invited me to see her back garden. She introduced herself to me – Mrs. Gilder, said with a hard “G”. I took her some warm bread, and her husband retaliated with another lettuce and spinach. They told me to send the children up on Saturday for a cabbage. I sent the three off with Brownies to give the couple, and they returned with lettuce, cabbage and a cucumber! The girls were shown the garden and a marvelous clock in the sitting room while Mrs. Gilder enjoyed grappling with $.
John and I were invited to a social party at the house behind us, where the donations were to support the conservative party. We met a commercial artist who came from the small village of Ockley noted for a band of pilgrims who left there to settle Guildford, CT. Also met Mr. Gardiner, the MP, who during the party got up on a strong box and made a speech about the riots going on in this country. I thought it slightly incongruous of us to ponder on disorder while standing in a lovely rose garden under a clear sky. The other guests didn’t seem surprised at the speech, so I presume it was the proper thing to do. The audience whiled away the speech time with men rattling the change in their pockets and ladies shifting feet balanced on heels in soft grass. Had it been a religious meeting, there would have been murmured “Amens”. What we heard were softly spoken “Here! Here!” rumblings to signify agreement.
Yesterday we went to the school open day where all the rooms were open for inspection by parents. Last year we went to this function, and I was scared silly at all the work staring the girls in the face. It isn’t so frightening when you consider that it’s a show of all that has gone on for a whole school year. The walls were covered from floor to high ceiling with art work, term papers exams, needlework, student drawn maps, charts of class projects and exhibits. All rooms had fresh flowers that had been arranged by the children, and Lisa’s room had an impressive display of pottery. A separate room held the samplers, pillows, and clothes made by the upper forms in their sewing classes.
After viewing the children’s work and speaking to their teachers, we went to Priory Park in Reigate for the Olde English Fayre. We didn’t have time to go through it, but walked on the edges seeing the various stalls of games, cake sales, bicycle proficiency contests, hamburger stands, floats, ice cream hawkers, second hand books for sale, new cars on display, and antique stalls. From a distance we saw the jousting! The horses the men rode were dressed in the colours of their clothes and shields. Horses thundered down the course, while the men used their skill to hit targets with their long poles. Many people involved in the fair were dressed in costume; we even saw the court jester! It was a most colourful affair.
Last night the girls and I were awakened by terrific wailing. I opened the door to $’s room, and he crawled out of the wreckage of his cot. He was shaking so much that I tucked him in bed with his dad where he wriggled down and pretended to sleep while I put the cot back together again without the help of all the king’s horses and all the king’s men. $ kept playing possum until I got settled for sleep, at which time he exploded into action. It was quickly to bed for him then.
We’ve rented a video recorder so we’ll be sure to see some of the Royal Wedding. There was a mix-up about the delivery of it. I waited all one day for a truck that didn’t show up. When the clerk at the store found we live on the same street as he does, he offered to bring it by. Normally these things are installed by the delivery man, but we were assured that it integrated with the TV so that the TV works, but we can’t seem to activate the system that preempts a channel. If we fail to get it going, we’ll have to call someone from the shop for help. There must be some simple thing we aren’t doing right. Grrrr!
I forgot to tell you the temperature of the day that was the hottest here. The English people were mopping their brows when the mercury sat at 84 degrees. They didn’t seem to understand that it would have been considered a cooler day to those battling steady 90’s. If there is one thing I could choose to bring back to the U.S., it’s the weather!
Few hours later: John rechecked all the connections to that recorder, and I turned a few dials. Suddenly we had the thing in tune. We’re not sure what did the trick, but we’re in business now.
[Can you believe I went a whole month without taking a photo? Maybe some were lost, because I thought I took the camera to the Olde English Fayre.]
We’ve had a full week with my folks still here. We went to Wakehurst Place Gardens in West Sussex. The mansion seems to be unoccupied, but the grounds are gorgeous. The place is kept up by the Royal Botanical Gardens of Kew and administered by the National Trust. I liked the water way where the little stream fell over rocks in many falls and rested in pools before continuing downwards. One pool had the largest goldfish I’ve ever seen in my life.
One afternoon we got the girls from school just as they finished lunch to go to a National Trust house that is close to here. [Judging by the photos, we must have seen Polesden Lacy.] Since the place only opens at 2, we couldn’t see the house and get back to Reigate by 3:15. Lisa was thrilled to be getting out of school even though they missed no classroom work; on Tuesdays they have triple games, meaning three periods that the whole school troops up to playing fields for organized games. Kate was a little concerned that she would miss a break in school, but she enjoyed changing out of her uniform and looking like a tourist. We had seen the house when we first came here, but my folks hadn’t. I saw things this time around that I’d missed before – traveling cosmetic box and a lady’s “necessary” (tiny sewing and repair kit). $ liked figurines displayed on his level and pushing his own stroller in the garden. He didn’t last too long in the house, so we went out to the entrance hall and chatted with the lady collecting tickets. She and her husband do the cleaning of the place! She was filling in for a vacationing ticket taker. She said, “We give it a proper do every Monday and Friday when the house is closed to the public.” The roses and the peonies in the gardens were superb.
Polesden Lacy and its rose garden
John and I both passed our stiff English driving test one day before the law stated that we had to. If you stay here for more than a year, you are supposed to have taken your test before that first year is up. We now feel like quite superior people! Mother and Dad have now “done time”; they kept $ from 9:15 – 11:45 during the tests and from 3 – 5:30 while I was getting Lisa’s new Dunottar uniform from the outfitters who supply the school. That poor baby would have become glued to his push chair if I’d had to drag him everywhere. At left is a photo of our having tea outside at our house.
We went a second time to the open air market, buying a few things for them to take home and enjoying seeing all that is for sale. We ate lunch at a National Trust house, Clandon Park. The lunch was delicious; $ behaved nicely until we went through the house, and my folks got a chance to wander through an historic building by themselves while $ and I gamboled on the lawn. His attention was soon riveted on two horses; he practiced saying “horse” until I think anyone could understand him.
Yesterday we drove to Bath (be sure to put “ah” in that name) and first went through Bath Abbey. For over 1200 years a Christian church has been on that site. St. Augustine was in Bath in 603! The present church was begun in 1499 and completed in the 17th century. Further back in history, the Romans built baths to take advantage of the only hot springs in Britain soon after AD 43. Amazing! These buildings were covered over with later construction and not discovered until 1878. We could see where excavating continues today along with displays of Roman coins, statues, and mosaic tiles. Most of the rest of Bath is Georgian – the time when it became a spa for the upper classes. The streets are unusually wide for England and the buildings much like those in the Federal style in the U.S.
Punch and Judy show
Family in Bath
Bath Crescent
A bridge in Bath
I particularly enjoyed seeing the Pump Room where people gathered to drink the waters and socialize and the Assembly Rooms where dances and concerts were held. These two places feature in almost every Georgian and Regency novel. I felt like I was seeing places where my friends had been! We tasted the mineral-laced water and were glad we didn’t have to drink much of it. Under the Assembly rooms is a museum of costume. Clothes were displayed beautifully on models, and many were grouped in room settings. The old court dresses looked as if yokes had dropped from shoulders to hips and were covered by the fancy dresses. Some were over a yard wide flaring out from 18 inch waists; from the side they appeared to be only five inches wide. There were quite a few things from the 1700’s up to winners of last year’s fashion awards. I thought the dresses from Queen Mary, the Queen Mother and the Queen were most interesting.
The ancient Roman baths were fantastic. We understand people are allowed to swim here one day a year.
On the way home we stopped to see a country mansion, Dyrham Park built by a minister of William III. The feature the children enjoyed most was a couple of 3-day-old peacocks. [At some point we saw a hand-cranked merry-go-round. I think this was near Hampton Court, and therefore out of order here.]
Mr. Clewes had told us that there was to be an air show this weekend, but of course we made no attempt to find out where it was to be. We saw some of it! Out on the open road, we happened to look round to see six to nine planes performing fancy stunts in the air.
Today we went to Westminster Abbey for the morning service. We sat in the second row in the nave; I was first in and so almost on the steps to the altar. I could have reached out and tickled the feet of the man reading the scripture lessons. The choir was superb, as usual. We did notice the novice choir boys dressed in red robes, but without the white tops, sitting near the organ console. We haven’t seen them there before. I saw the man in charge of them tap one boy on the shoulder during the service. Wonder what he did wrong. John said these very young boys were brought out of the service after the anthem was sung; they had black capes to wear over their red robes as they were marched back to their dorm.
The shortest and quickest way to London on Sunday mornings goes just on the edge of the suburb of Wimbledon. John kindly drove us by the tennis club since there were no games today and no traffic. Our neighbors who had seats on the center court said they spent an hour trying to get out of their car park! We noticed signs at the stadium stating the price of admission is two pounds. That is really cheap. You wouldn’t be allowed in the center court, but could wander around to any of the other 12 to 18 courts where many of the famous players would be playing. Of course, the best way to see tennis is to sit in front of the TV set where they broadcast hours and hours every day. I think they are on live from 2:30 until 7:30 and then begin the reruns of all the important games of the day. It was fun to see in person where all this activity takes place.
This time 17 years ago we were saying goodbye to my folks after our wedding. Today I said goodbye to John for a week and almost hello to my folks who arrive Tuesday for a two week visit. John will be in New York for a week.
Do you know how to tell someone here that he is crazy? “You’re a nut case!”
Had a crash course (not literally) to prepare us to take the very strict driving test here. Someone at the office suggested a 2-hour lesson, so we booked in for that at a driving school in Epsom. John kindly let me go first at 10:00 while he strolled $ around the town and ate at McDonald’s. At 12:00 John took his turn until 2:00. What a grueling thing it was! Before five minutes went by the tiny man said to me, “You just failed your driving test!” He was very pleasant – explaining that he wasn’t criticizing my driving, but preparing me for the test. I had failed to visibly check my rear view mirror every eight seconds. How picky they are here! It’s a fault against you if your wheels ever touch the curb. Each time you stop for a traffic signal, the handbrake must go on! He said I usually approached a stop too fast and took a little long to venture into traffic. By the end of two hours, I was almost afraid to go over 10 miles per hour, and that would have been a fault for not proceeding normally!
Kate brought a new friend home from school one afternoon. This girl moved to Reigate about six weeks ago, having lived in Yorkshire and Cornwall before.
John $ can now open the small oven of the cooker as well as fiddle with the controls of the dryer. I shouldn’t be surprised, but I always am, to open the dryer door when the cycle is finished and find the clothes sopping wet. He can put more wet clothes back in the washing machine than I can put into the dryer. He can also throw more stones onto the front stoop than I can sweep off.
Yesterday the girls worked all morning at the school fete. Kate’s class was in charge of the raffle tickets, and Lisa’s of a stall selling anything red, white or blue. There were several games of chance, second-hand clothes, baked goods, games, toys, books, and plants for sale. We bought a shirt for $ and a pair of almost new Wellingtons for 20p. John bought the girls little mirrors with the school emblem on the back. The playground was gaily decorated, the event very well attended, and it was great fun.
In the afternoon the two Johns stayed home while we went with the womenfolk next door to the village May Pageant. (It had been postponed.) The parade of floats, clowns and a small band went through the town and to an open area. The new May queen was crowned, the dance of the May pole was performed, costumes were judged, an award given to the shop with the best decorations, and a clown performed. There were a few stalls selling cool drinks, plants, ice cream and chances to win goldfish. It seemed as if the whole village turned out for the affair. It was quite warm bringing on great thirst, so we all came home to have tea at our house. I opened the biscuit tin to find all the biscuits gone and had to improvise by making toast and serving it with lemon curd. It was nice to have a chance to sit and talk with our house-mates.
John needed to pick up some things from the office before flying out today, so we went to Westminster Abbey for church. (It is within walking distance of the office.) The choir was really on its toes today, the counter-tenors being especially good. We drove to Epsom where we ate lunch and John caught a bus to the airport.
This morning I picked up my parents from the airport. I dropped the girls off at a friend’s home to go to school with her girls. Despite my making two wrong turns, we met in the airport only 10 minutes after they finished the formalities. Couldn’t have worked out better; I might just have had time to get lost in the airport had I gotten there sooner.
They took a short nap, we got the girls from school and went to Box Hill, the nearest National Trust property with a fantastic view when you can see it. Of the four or five times I’ve been there, this day was the clearest. So many times the weather can be gorgeous, but slightly hazy.
After setting Mr. Clewes to work one day we drove to Leith Hill, a protected area noted for rhododendrons. We were able to see all the lavender ones; all the others were through blooming. The plants are more like trees here – we’ve never seen such tall ones.
We drove to Epson Downs race track, Epsom, Leatherhead and on to Ripley, Surrey. [Ripley is the name of our home town in Tennessee.] The folks said their council had been in touch with our city government back in my grandfather’s day. Dad also mentioned that he and Mother had sent a care package to the town here in England after the second World War. We took one picture, got lost, practiced a few U turns, and came home. [That one picture is missing, either lost or mislabeled.]
We treated ourselves to a cream tea in a hotel in a neighboring village. It was a great experience except for the price – rather steep. Scones were served with clotted cream and jam, and we had a plate of cake wedges. I thought we wouldn’t have enough food to keep $ happy (he eats more than Kate at times), but a cat that looked just like one we had in NY kept him occupied. That black and white cat entertained us by strolling under tables and coming almost within petting reach. The resemblance to Tor was uncanny – the only thing different was that he had a tail.
We watched quite a bit of TV in the afternoon as the Queen and her party arrived each day at Royal Ascot in open landaus. That race course is near Windsor. I put up with the horse races to see the people. Lady Diana was the big feature this year. All the men have morning dress and gray top hats; the ladies wear short dresses and the fanciest of hats. Also on TV were the preliminary matches for Wimbledon which begins tomorrow. Any time we aren’t out, I’m sure the oldest and the youngest of us will be lured to the screen to watch the games. The next door neighbors were able to get two tickets for the center court tomorrow. They said the children will be allowed to wander about watching the outer courts, and they will all take turns sitting with a parent at the center court.
Yesterday John arrived home from New York looking slightly rumpled about the mouth. From the account of how little sleep he got, I’m surprised he wasn’t in one heap. He slept while the rest of us went to Chartwell, Winston Churchill’s home. He thought it would take us an hour to get there, but it was only half that. This time the girls and I saw much more of the garden than when we were there nearly a year ago.
Today we worshiped in St. Paul’s Cathedral and spent the afternoon at Hampton Court. $ learned how to get out of his push chair; he practiced getting in and out for an hour while I was walking him in the garden. Below is a sunken garden at Hampton Court.
Below, my parents at Hampton Court.
Mom and Dad
Note: for months I have added captions to photos. Today that wouldn’t work.
England 40 Years Ago — June 6, 1981
Instead of “very good” when commending someone, you say “well done!” That is used so often in school that the girls have started saying it at home.
Early in the week I met Derek Bedford, the local rector, while I was walking to the village. In talking we got on the subject of Ralph Vaughan Williams, the composer. Derek says the man lived about five miles from here in Dorking! I looked for a biography on him in the library to see if that would be mentioned, but couldn’t find a book on him. He is one of my favorite composers.
Rescuing damsels in distress in loos is a speciality [specialty in American English] of mine. Philippa locked herself in our upstairs bathroom and couldn’t get the key to turn. She tried the key several times, and I did it several times, and it finally gave way. At least we could pass the key under the door!
This was a big week in our area – the Derby (pronounced Dar-by) was run at Epsom Downs. Mr. Clewes had been telling me for a year, even before we moved to this house, that we should make an effort to go because it is such a colourful affair and so close to home. Paula, John $’s cashier friend in Co op, mentioned wanting to go since it was her day off, but she couldn’t afford the bus fare from Redhill to Epsom. I offered to pick her up after I dropped the children at school, and she jumped at the chance. We walked down a village lane, over rolling hills, and over the grass track. We estimated it to be a two-mile walk on the map. From a distance we saw the grandstands, colourful fair with market stalls, and hordes of people flooding in. We walked into that surging mass of humanity to see gypsies telling fortunes, games of chance, BLUE cotton candy (called candy floss), and blaring carnival rides. John $ looked two ways at once to take it all in. Crowds in the fair area were so thick that cars couldn’t move. Scattered around were booths for placing bets. Until shortly before racing began, cars, buses, vans and lorries were pouring into the huge grassy area in the middle of the “C” shaped track. At noon all seemed intent on their picnics. Some people were dressed in jeans having food from Tupperware, while others a little more formally dressed, had lunch from hampers. I sat down on $’s plastic changing mat in a far area where there were few people and shared a dry sandwich with him. [I took only one photograph that day.]
There were a few small tents erected, but lots of wind shelters – stakes with fabric wrapped around. We had walked by the area where helicopters were bringing in the truly rich – one after another dropped down to the ground, discharged passengers, and flew off for more.
A woman with a camera hanging from her neck thrust a little monkey at $ and asked if I wanted her to take his picture with the monkey. I said no as fast as I could to save the poor animal from $’s clutches. Whew!
I couldn’t stay for any of the races because I had to get the car from its 10,000 mile servicing and the girls from school. I decided the English really know how to do things properly when I saw a man in morning dress (tails) directing traffic. He coaxed one van past another on a one-lane road inch by inch. As smaller cars began moving past after the block was broken, he and two others hopped in a posh car and roared off. They were just intent on getting to the royal box and weren’t to be stopped by a traffic jam.
Paula and I got back here in time to turn on the telly to see the Queen and her mother make their entrance in a royal procession of cars, riding where we had walked earlier! That may be as close as I’ll ever come to the Queen. Paula went to the school with me to get the girls, then we took her to Redhill. We saw a re-run of the race as soon as we got home.
All in all, it was an enjoyable day. I got sunburned on my face and could see colour on John’s arms, but neither of us were in pain.
The current craze here is a puzzle called a Rubic cube. I’m guessing on the spelling because I’ve not seen it written. Lisa spotted one in a gift shop for $10 and was dying to get it. I said it was too expensive. Several days later she said her classmates, who had been to the week-long fair at the race track, claimed the puzzles were on sale for $4. One of the first things I saw walking through the market area on Derby Day were Rubic cubes. I bought one for Lisa, knowing she’d pay me back from her own money. Kate had never seemed to want one. She did when she saw Lisa with hers, and Lisa wouldn’t let her touch it with one finger. I promised to go to the market in Redhill to see if there were one there, because I wasn’t about to walk four miles to the race course to get another. Luck was with me, and I got another for Kate.
Since then, we’ve hardly done anything but work with the silly things. The cube is made of 27 pieces put together with springs and screws so that 9 pieces rotate together. It comes with each side making one block of colour, but with two twists of the wrist it can be jumbled up and is seemingly impossible to put to rights. Kate’s is fairly easy to disassemble, so we did once take it apart and got it back to its original appearance. Numerous people have tried to solve Lisa’s with no success. Any of you soon-to-come visitors have this to look forward to!
Outdoor markets are a feature of English life. I love to walk through them looking at all the things for sale. That day in Redhill I found a coat rack that we’ve not been able to find anywhere else. Didn’t buy it until I could check with John, so will have to go back some Thursday soon. Clothes are most popular. There was even a stall selling greeting cards! Many, but not all, big towns have a market day. Reigate does not, but Epsom has one every Saturday. You can buy pocketbooks, jewellery, fabrics, notions, shoes, candies, carpets, toiletries, housewares, vegetables, fruits, meats and antiques. Prices are low because overhead is nil.
At right is the coat rack in our garage 40 years later. It is holding John’s train jacket and hats. Perhaps it will have a more dignified place in our next home.
$ has another friend at Co-op who is often in charge of the “till” when we check out. She’s taken to letting him sit on her lap and punch the buttons on the register!
Briefly met a woman from Green Lawn, NY, outside school. She’s married to an Englishman, so our girls couldn’t identify her daughter as half-American by her accent. Her last name is Rooney, like Mickey, she said. The girl had told her mother of us and said our town name began with “S”. She thought of Syosset and Smithtown, but not Stony Brook.
Our next door neighbors were here for dinner last Monday, a bank holiday. We were rather glad the weather was nasty because none of us could kick ourselves and say we should have gone to such and such on this particular day. That didn’t help all the people committed to going to fetes and fairs.
Vivien began telling me about hedges. The yew hedge is poisonous to cattle and other animals, so you usually find it in house gardens. It is very slow to grow; the one that divides our garden from the theirs in the back is a yew. He said it was planted at the time the house was built to divide the tennis court area from the pleasure garden area. They have the part that was the court – only holes for the poles are left; must have been a grass court. There is a huge beech hedge at the bottom of our garden. The yew is green year round, but the beech loses its leaves. Vivien pointed out that the plants making up that hedge are really trees, not shrubs. Common hedgerows dividing fields are usually hawthorn. The privet hedge is more of a shrub; I can’t remember what that kind looks like.
There is much to be said for rising early. By 7:30 one morning I had cooked breakfast, washed dishes, got clothes out of the washing machine and into the dryer, besides disinfecting all the lower cabinets in the kitchen and disposing of a dead mouse.
A record is about to be set for the number of rainy days in a row. I had hoped to do some outdoor things with the girls while they were off from school for a week, but it rained every day. We did towns instead. By now I think the count is 15 days in a row of rain. The day we went to Epsom to shop, it didn’t rain while we were in the supermarket, but began just as we stowed the food and prepared to wander about the town. John $ is always the driest one (except for one certain area) because the cover for the push chair completely closes him in, having a visored hood with a zip that leaves only his face exposed.
John $ in his pushchair, covered by the blue rain cover. This was taken at a fort on Hadrian’s Wall in 1980.
Catherine had an umbrella, Lisa a raincoat, and Kate a windbreaker that kept all but her head dry. She’d not put up the hood at first, then dumped rain on herself that had collected in the hood. My raincoat got damp all the way through. Wet!
After he put the girls to bed, John picked up the alto recorder he’s had for five years and never touched before. He sat there in front of the instruction book mumbling and grumbling that his fat fingers just wouldn’t work right. Soon Lisa came flying down the stairs saying, “Please stop!! Kate is scared stiff a ghost is trying to play a recorder!” John rolled his eyes heavenward and said, “I haven’t a ghost of a chance.”
The children, Catherine, and I went to Banstead, one of the closest of the towns around here. It’s a nice town – not too old, not too new – with a wonderful variety of shops. I found wooden spoons I’ve been looking for, a book store that had one book I wanted and ordered another. There are scads of news agents, several groceries, two fabric shops, chemists, a baby shop, and a small department store. There are no antique shops! We enjoyed our stroll there.
You know it’s time for a cup of tea when a neighbor brings back your baby after he’s played in a puddle in their garden, having walked out the front door left open by a daughter. Also,
…when the mouse trap is sprung, bait gone and no mouse.
…when a helpful child strips her bed, brings all downstairs to be washed and finds it isn’t the day for her bed.
…when the gardener comes after 11 consecutive days of rain and it rains again with a little hail for good measure.
…when your son is role-playing Daddy by making a fire with soft coal.
…when a daughter sits on her silly putty in her favorite jeans.
…when someone unexpectedly comes in and sees your husband’s shoes left under the dining table.
…when you find your son happily playing with the portable radio and the tape recorder.
…when you’ve sat down to enjoy that tea, cast an admiring glance toward the hedge and notice rain is coming between you and the hedge, remembering you left the push chair out in the sun a few minutes ago. Never a dull moment!
Catherine went with the rest of us to Redhill and Reigate to shop. We went to Co-op, talked with our favorite people there, and went to several places in Reigate. We exchanged our library books and came home.
Philippa (who also answers to Phillie, Phil, and Pips) was in school last week, but has days off this week. Too bad. We’re going to have some of that next year with our girls in different schools.
Yesterday John and Lisa went shopping all over the map. They were at Gatwick checking into renting a luggage rack for our summer trip, in Epsom, and as far away as Croydon and Coulsdon. After lunch we all went on a wild goose chase looking for a coat rack. We were assured this store had many to choose from, got there and found only one rickety bamboo thing put together with staples.
The sun actually shone for a while yesterday, until we started a charcoal fire to cook with, that is. John had set up the equipment out the back door. We started to move it around to the garage and managed to tip over everything. The fire didn’t seem to mind; all the coals cozied up to each other after their airy flight and glowed together. The sausages and hot dogs didn’t suffer from a dust bath and kitchen shower, and it all tasted delicious. There are easier ways of doing things!
Today we went to Westminster Cathedral. It is Catholic, but the service is more like the Lutheran one than the Anglican. The boys and men’s choir sang Ralph Vaughn William’s Mass in G in the appropriate places and two anthems. It was glorious. I was near the front with the girls and was feeling sorry for John having to grapple with $. I had assumed that he didn’t hear much of the service. He was waiting for us inside the church after the service, and we found that he’d walked with John in his arms much of the time, but actually sat down during the sermon. This is progress. He may not behave when it’s my turn, but we’ve made it through one, now.
Traveling is getting easier with the girls, too. Now they can go to the loo by themselves. Kate has always hesitated to go in strange bathrooms unless one of us is with her. Today at Burger King she announced she was going by herself. We wondered why she was taking so long, sent Lisa to find her, and soon saw Lisa hurrying back to report that she’d locked herself in. Sure enough, she was firmly ensconced behind that door, the stall being the kind that went all the way to the floor and the ceiling! I knew I’d have to talk her out or go to the manager. I asked her to try again, heard the lock being rattled, but nothing happened. Told her to wipe her fingers thoroughly on her dress to remove any hamburger grease and try again. No go. Try the other way. Ah! Kate was restored to us!
This has been sick week – nothing bad, just colds. Kate stayed home from school Monday and Lisa, Tuesday.
At the hairdresser’s I heard about the “rag and bone” man. They were saying the man passes with his cart several times a month ringing a bell. He will take such things as cookers, old TV’s and appliances. Some he might repair and resell, others he would sell for scrap. The dustman will take nothing more than normal household rubbish.
I was invited to Jackie F’s for coffee to meet a couple of other Americans. Margaret R’s husband works with the same company as Jackie’s; their son is 21 months with another baby on the way. Also there was a Tennessee girl!!! She grew up in Knoxville. The “e” in her name is long – Marketta S. She thinks the name is Indian, but doesn’t know how her mother came up with it. Marketta’s husband is the national sales manager for Wilson sporting goods. Their children are Erika 7, and Harrison 3. Marketta herself reminds me a little of Eleanor E – tall, thin, lovely long brown hair and brown eyes. Her accent was a little hard to adjust to! It’s been a long time since I’ve met any new Southerners (as opposed to family who sound familiar).
Thursday was a difficult day starting with a crash. I was turning out of our street taking John to the station when a motorcycle flew around the blind corner and hit me. Our car is so long that he was bound to make contact. The young boy hurt his arm, but seemed to think he was OK otherwise. We took him to his home in Tadworth. Later John went with me to Epsom to report the accident to the police. The rules here are to clear the streets after a crash, exchange addresses, and report to the police within 24 hours if there has been any bodily injury. We were all shook up and said very little in the car. When the boy got out, he thanked us for bringing him home!!! The policeman was very kind, but did explain that any time a car is coming out at a junction, the fault lies with that car no matter what happens on the main road.
I went on to drive the girls to school that morning; the only damage to the car is a big dent just before the front wheel that broke the turning indicator. I find I’m not leery of driving except at that junction – now roll down the window and listen before proceeding! So ends a 22-year stretch of no crashes.
I finally saw a sign pointing to the antique market in Reigate. It has been closed because the building it was in is being demolished. It is now in the basement of a chemist shop. There are a few stalls open, but there isn’t nearly the array of things there was before.
As I parked my car in the car park, I saw a little old lady searching the ground. She came up to me to ask me to help her find her keys. They had dropped between the shift stick and bucket seat, and I found them within two minutes. She thanked me profusely and said she hoped someone would help me some time. I said I was glad to be of assistance and could find things easily because that is my main job in life at home.
Catherine (next door) spent the night with Lisa. She’s fun for me to talk to.
John $ was enjoying seeing Kate in the tub having a bath. He suddenly decided she needed the company of her towel, so he dumped it in with her. Grrr!
This morning Kate and I went to church around the corner; John and Lisa are going for Evensong this evening. Tomorrow is a bank holiday, and the neighbors in the other half of our house are coming here for dinner.
Our car is holding a grudge against John. For the second time it refused to start to take him to the station, but would go to take the girls to school. Naughty! This happened on a Monday morning, to boot. I scooted to Safeway after dropping the girls off and parked under the store. That store is supposed to be one of the largest in the London area, so I can find things there that are not stocked elsewhere. It’s fun to wander the aisles when the store isn’t busy.
The frogs had a rude shock when John $ joined them in the pool. I think he wanted to test the water with his toe, but one leg went in up to nappy level. As I whirled around at his whimper, he was lying half in and half out of the pool. Mr. Clewes was feeling sorry for him, telling him that he would soon dry out, and then picked up the drippy boy to comfort him. I said I wanted him to cry and be upset so he wouldn’t do it again. I lost that one!
Photo taken six months later, after gardener Clewes put a screen over the pond
Jackie F., the American who lives just up the street, came for coffee one morning. She was on her way to the international store in Epsom, asked me to go, but understood that John had to be fed. She says that store has many American things such as cake mixes, corn chips, and hot dogs. I’m going to go when I get a chance just to see what all is there. Cheerios is another thing she mentioned. The thing our family is most hungry for at the moment is plain old pancake syrup. I don’t think this store carries it though, because Jackie said she is having her next guests bring as much as they can carry.
Jackie’s husband works very near the Gotass-Larsen offices in London. Their only son has learning problems and goes to a special school within walking distance of his father’s office. She kept talking about Berry, her husband, until finally I asked how the name is spelled. She said it really has an “a” rather than an “e”, but she can’t pronounce it correctly. I thought I was the only one with problems like that, though I can pronounce “Barry”. “Pin” and “pen” still get me.
One afternoon after school we went to Dunottar to the second-hand uniform sale. Most schools have these, and it is an inexpensive way to assemble the outfits. We were delayed by Kate’s violin lesson after school, so didn’t have much to choose from by the time we got there. We did get a pair of gym shorts. The idea of uniforms in school is good, but you should see some of these oldies. It’s amazing to me in what condition some people’s clothes are in; you’d swear some schools are boarding places for orphans.
While listening to the radio weekday mornings, John has heard this phrase many times: “An articulated lorry has shed its load on the flyover.”
Yesterday we went to Dorking to wander around. It’s a lovely town with lots of shops that we’ve driven through countless times on our way to other places. [We haven’t driven through shops, but through the town.] We didn’t buy a thing, but did peer in all the antique shops for a coat rack. Even furniture shops don’t know where to go to find coat racks! Same applies to the clerks in the shops.
We came home the back way via Box Hill and got out to see the view. It was clearer yesterday than I’ve ever see it here.
Today Kate has a cold and doesn’t feel well. John and Lisa have gone to the Roman Catholic Westminster Cathedral where the music is to be by a good Lutheran, Hans Leo Hassler. Kate and I caught a youth service on the telly while $ played with trains.
The girls have school this week, but will be off another whole week after that for mid-term. Then it’s a long haul till the end of school in July.
I don’t have much to write this week, since we had a quiet spell after that great holiday in Cornwall. John was home last Monday because it was a bank holiday, and most things were closed. It was so nice to get a few things done around the house with no pressure to go anywhere.
John tried asking for a ruler in the office, but was met with blank stares. What he was told he wanted was a measuring stick.
The car gave us a trying time by refusing to start one morning. John had to walk to the station while I continued working with it. Finally started. Whew! It seems to take several days before extreme moisture works its way into the spark plugs, and then you have to crank and crank away to get it dry.
Barbara C. is one of those who loves children, and I knew I could relax having John $ with me while I was at her home for coffee. Her 3-year-old played so nicely with $, and they have tons of little cars and trucks. John didn’t make a sound the whole time we were there, just played with one toy and then another. We two ladies just sat basking in the sun streaming through the windows and had a long chat.
She spoke of getting over a cold and still having catarrh. I was so glad she put that word in context so I could dope out its meaning. Sounds much nicer than “runny nose”, doesn’t it?
Two days we took Susie S. home from school – she is the 5-year-old daughter of the two doctors who just had a new baby. We were thrilled to see the baby. Took him several blue sweaters Mom had knit for John $. Penny’s eyes lit up at sight of them, because she said she had only pink things after two girls.
Last night the neighbors who share a roof with us had a party to introduce us to some of the people who live in Walton. All of them, with the exception of the rector and the Wilsons (owners of this house), had children the ages of ours. The adults were served elegant finger snacks, and all the children sandwiches. Georgina had helped her mother with the food and over-saw games outside for the children. Suzette Marsh has two daughters at boarding school, one she brought who is Kate’s age, and a 6-month-old boy named Charles whom they preface with “prince”. The couple who live in the house named “The Merlins” explained that it was easier to repaint the sign as it was than to rename the house; they guess the name has to do with the magician. The MacPhersons from Scotland were hard to understand, but brought with them their weekend guest who had just arrived that morning from New York. He sounded like home! The Berrys told funny stories of the training of their pony to pull a trap. It was a delightful party, and so nice to know who belongs in some of the houses I’ve seen here.
We began a game with Kate’s name while on holiday, so will write a few. What happens when Kate leaves office? She abdikates. How do you make her happier? By plakating her. When she’s convalescing, she’s delikate. Her favorite coconut is desikated. How do you talk with Kate — you communkkate, of course. When she’s done something wrong, we adjudikate. When she’s moving fast, we tell of the action in the predikate. Do you think I should stop this and eradikate? When Kate is ill, she is helped by being medikated. She points to things to indikate. If she ever creaks with age, she’ll rustikate. What is the best mode of transportation for her? To skate. When she writes her first book, it will be dedikated. Her vocation must be Katering. For that she’ll move to Katerham. She would never lie, but might prevarikate.
My name is Suki, my human is a writer, and this is about my world. The world according to Suki The Cat. My humans smell funny, look weird, and I can't understand a thing they say, but they feed me, so hey, what are you gonna do?
Mehrling Muse 