England 40 Years Ago — February 7, 1982

In all my years of doing the family washing, I had the highest percentage of socks go missing one day. (In England things don’t “get lost,” they “go missing.”) By the next day I’d recovered all four.

Do you remember the verse about the little girl with a curl in the middle of her forehead? When she was bad, she was horrid. Well, little John can be haughty, but more often he’s NAUGHTY. In one day he unpacked the frozen foods all around the car, willfully threw pebbles from a planter into the fireplace, played in the salt pig, knocked down the gate at the door to play in the shower while I was washing my hair, and opened the big box where my angels were and began pulling them out. Imagine me following in the wake of that little swirling disaster, cleaning up one mess as he was making another. He had also made off with my glasses so that I couldn’t see to dress after washing my hair as the door bell was ringing. You might guess this was a day John Sr. went to London. Do you suppose he knows what’s coming and abandons ship?

John had them rolling in the aisles when he went into the office to catch up on a few things. One of the old hands in the chartering department was moving into a vice-president’s office that John had used the last two weeks. As the man pondered where to put furniture, John said, “It’s kinda like rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic, isn’t it?” The dour Norwegian couldn’t stifle his laughter on that one.

$ decided to stir up a cake while I was fetching the girls and John was upstairs working. He used two dirty beaters, two cake testers, one clean wooden spoon, two bowls and the cheese grater. Unfortunately, the cake he stirred up was one I’d baked that morning.

We had a most delightful weekend in the Cotswolds. The first historical thing we visited was also the oldest – the foundations of a Roman villa. It was hard to believe they allowed about as much space for elaborate baths as for all the other living spaces put together. Tile mosaics were exquisite, and the hypocaust heating system running under all the floors is more advanced than many systems in use here today!

Not far from that villa were the ruins of the Cistercian Abbey of Hailes founded in the 1200’s by a brother of Henry III. Most of the foundations and some of the walls are there, filled in with a carpet of lush green grass. Just across the lane was the parish church still standing which is older than the abbey.

Boss stones from the abbey ceiling displayed in the museum

Tewkesbury Abbey was our last tourist stop of the day. One of the first things we noticed was a coal heater with a little wagon of coal standing beside it. The same kind of heaters were also in Ely Cathedral north of Cambridge. The photo at left was taken at Hereford Cathedral and does not have a wagon of coal beside it.

After we’d walked around admiring the elaborate, but delicate, stone work, there was a special sung evensong service in honour of the 30^th anniversary of Queen Elizabeth’s reign. The reverberation period must have been at least 5 seconds, showing off the fine tones of the choir and the oldest organ in use in this country. That organ has just been reworked and was rededicated only a couple of months ago.

For Sunday worship we sat in the choir of Gloucester Cathedral. A proud sidesman told John their choir ranks sixth or maybe even third in the country. We were sitting at the entrance to the lectern, and each time the men stood waiting to read, they smiled at $. Most unusual to us were the organ pipes over the choir screen painted in colourful scrolls and intricate patterns.

We admired the shiny floor tiles typical of this area – all in two colours. They were made by pressing a stamp into the soft clay tile, filling the indentations with lighter coloured clay, and firing them. After buying a reproduction tile in the bookshop [still on our dining room table in 2022], we went back into the choir (or quire as they spelled it on a sign) to find where that design was laid. We wandered into the cloisters, saw the chapter house where the congregation was invited for coffee, and fell into conversation with the dean of the cathedral who had preached the sermon. Around another corner of the glass and stone enclosed cloister was a sign that on that site William the Conqueror ordered the census later known as the Doomsday Book.

Two Sundays in a row we’ve been in churches with such warm friendly people – Guildford last Sunday and Gloucester this week. At both we felt such a part of the congregation that we were comfortable taking communion. Probably it helps that we know the Anglican service fairly well now. These smaller cathedrals are obviously home churches for many people; the sidesmen greet the regulars as old friends and have welcoming words for strangers. Of course, this feeling can’t extend to the tourist-mobbed big churches in London.

We couldn’t resist buying the record of Christmas music by the Gloucester choir. On reading the cover, we found that Gustav Holst was very active in that church and that Ralph Vaughn Williams was born near Gloucester, though he later lived near Dorking.

I forgot to mention that we saw the tomb of Edward II in Gloucester Cathedral. If we go to enough churches, we will have “seen” most of the kings and queens of England.

A No-mess Crisis

I thought the shower head had become really clogged with deposits from our hard water. Thank heavens I hadn’t gotten my hair wet! I shouted to John, and he found there was no running water anywhere in the house. Neighbor Bob came over immediately, and the two men checked under the house. Bob suspected the pump had failed. He was able to suggest a company to call, warning us that it could be expensive. A new pump would be bad enough, but if we needed to drill for a new source of water, we should brace ourselves.

There was no telling how long it would take for the repairmen to respond. Shawn and Bob offered us their facilities and water. What would we do without our fantastic neighbors? David and John filled four gallon milk jugs at their house, as well as two five-gallon containers. The jugs went to the kitchen counter, and the big containers to bathrooms. In the photo, you can see the big water holder. Can you also see the small plastic container on the floor? That was for dipping water to pour into the toilet or for washing hands in the sink.

Two men came within six hours! The pump was at fault, and they installed a new one before dark. We had water again!! We could use it, even though we needed a new bladder for the pressure tank. They had already used the one they keep on the truck, so they returned the next morning to finish the job.

The photo shows the well cover near our driveway, with the tire marks from the large truck. We are very thankful we got off as lightly as we did.

The well cover is supposed to look like a large rock. After I added this photo, I’ve decided it looks like a friendly little alien. Does anyone have a name to suggest?

Happy Ending

Sadie knew something was happening, but she had no idea what was coming. I took two photos to show her waiting mood.

I was waiting, too, but I tried to keep a smile on my face. Son John $pencer packed his car carefully, preparing to follow his heart to Washington state, a continent away. Sadie obeyed the command to get in.

The trip was going well until there was car trouble in Sundance, Wyoming. A mechanic said he needed a new transmission, but there was none to be had there. That man talked with the mechanic who had worked on the car in North Carolina. Together, they decided draining the transmission fluid and replacing it might get the car to the coast. The first suggestion would have cost thousands of dollars, but the second cost hundreds. The happy ending is $’s arriving at his destination one week after leaving.

$ drove through light snow and treacherous ice without further incident. He commended on the cold – -30F (-34.4C). Sadie walked oddly, he said, really feeling the brutal chill to her paws. I imagined a cartoon dog walking on her toes, trying to skim over the surface without touching it. She is much happier now, resting in a warm house. $ is taking a break for a day and will begin job and house hunting in earnest.

I can smile freely again, knowing our son is where he wants to be. When family or friends leave our house, my heart is heavy. It’s almost like being physically sick for days or hours before, proportional to the time they’ve spent with us. When they leave and wishing won’t bring them back, I can resume normal living once more.

Visiting Nathaniel

Our plans to visit grandson Nathaniel were canceled, because he tested positive for COVID. A week later, after he quarantined with a very light case, we went to a restaurant he chose. We always leave that decision to him, since he is a culinary student at the university and has heard about all the nearby eateries. We had a lovely visit with him and friend Sarah, as shown in the photo.

What doesn’t show is the explosive sound that greeted us when we opened the door of the restaurant. We were shown to a table right under a speaker. I immediately lowered the volume on my hearing aids while the others refrained from covering their ears. If we had stayed in those seats, everyone would have come out as deaf as I am. Nathaniel politely requested another table, so we picked up our menus and napkins to follow. I didn’t hear what he said, but we were led upstairs and shown to these two tables pulled together. We did not know that a Super Bowl playoff was on the air, and EVERYONE downstairs was an avid fan. The restaurant person asked if we were sure we wanted the sound off and mercifully left us in peace.

The photo of our party, taken from a different angle, shows the game projected on a large screen behind Sarah’s seat and mine.

The building had been a residential house, and we had half the upstairs. I’m still amazed that we got the quiet we wanted AND a private dining room at no extra cost. I wondered why no other diners were brought upstairs. As we walked out, we saw that every parking space was taken in that tiny lot.

David told me today that every time he heard patrons downstairs shouting or groaning, he glanced at the screen to see what was happening. I’m glad he had a good view and I did not.

England 40 Years Ago — January 31, 1982

The regular mid-week train strike was looming up again as John’s boss realized the end was drawing near. This past week John left home on Tuesday morning knowing he wouldn’t be home until his work is finished Friday night.

I got lonely for some lengthy adult conversation and called Jackie F Wednesday morning. Both her husband and son were staying in a hotel in London because of the strike. In answer to my invitation for a cup of coffee she said, “Sure. I’ll come as soon as I get up, dress and have breakfast.” We had a great time trying to talk while John snitched all the cookies on the tray, played in the sugar bowl and drank from the cream pitcher. She wasn’t hungry at noon, so I fed John $ and put him down for a nap. Talking was much easier then until my stomach growled across the room. At 2:30 we had a sandwich; she went home as I was waking John 15 minutes later. What fun it was to have unlimited talk!

Some people save up for a rainy day while others shake their fist at the sky. $ does neither; on rainy days he wakes up in EXUBERANT spirits and longs to go outside. I lured him to the butcher shop by letting him think he could eradicate nice muddy puddles – you know, stamp them out. He refused to go home, turning toward the village instead. We explored the puddles in the churchyard, climbed through all the pews in the church, examined a model of the church in the porch, and then we found a big drain in the street on Breech Lane. It’s too much to ask that we do these things unnoticed. I was standing in the street holding on for dear life as $ tried to get on hands and knees to see if he could crawl into the drain. Looking up, I saw a red car creeping near us and Vivien Sutton sitting in the driver’s seat slowly shaking his head. $ and I came inside when I promised he could wash his hands; he’s not old enough to know that is supposed to be torture.

We spent a most enjoyable evening with John G (company lawyer from NC). He’d kindly invited the whole family, but we chose to leave $ at home with neighbors Catherine and George (Georgina). We had a foretaste of his neighborhood driving through the posh area near Eaton Square. His flat is on the ground floor of an old, well-preserved building, and the flat itself is marvelous. There is a very large drawing room, a cozy book-lined room that doubles as study and dining room, compact kitchen with all the appliances one could wish for, bathroom and two bedrooms. Lisa was the first to go in his bedroom with skylight and a wall of closets with perhaps five doors of 6-foot mirrors. He told her to open the next to last door, and it was the entrance to the en suite bath! We walked through the little door, up three steps and there was a shower enclosure, separate bath, WC, bidet and hand basin!

While walking two blocks to a restaurant, John pointed to the block of flats where Lady Diana lived before her engagement. (The general area is Kensington.) The food we had was delicious, and we all enjoyed John G, the perfect host. He found questions and anecdotes for Lisa and Kate, and they responded to his interest. We strolled back to the flat and saw his fancy TV set that can give weather, stock market reports, news, etc. on demand by pushing the numbers on a calculator-type gadget. [Do you suppose I didn’t know what a remote control was 40 years ago???] After a little more conversation we had to head home.

Hours after we’d left home George said $ insisted on putting on his coat to go outside to look for Kate. He looked around, was told she had gone, and he was then happy to go inside and take off the coat. ??? He doesn’t care to be left behind!

Today we went to Guildford Cathedral, arriving minutes after the service started. The building was finished after WWII and was the first one to have dedication services televised. It is brick outside and white inside – very light and modern, though not objectionably so. Often John and I have heard recordings of evensong played on the radio from Guildford Cathedral, and it was a shock to us to discover it does not have a choir school. The boys sound every bit as professional as many we’ve heard. The message was also good today. The preacher said the church attracts the MAD and the BAD, and if it doesn’t, then that church should reevaluate its evangelism program.

We didn’t even have a map in the car with us since we left home in a hurry, and the weather didn’t look as if we’d enjoy racking around the countryside. The sun kept threatening to shine, finally did, and we had fun poking around Portsmouth. We had an excellent tour of Lord Nelson’s great battleship, HMS Victory. He was the admiral of the fleet, directed and won the battle of Trafalgar, and was mortally wounded in the fight. There are brass plates on the deck showing where he fell, and markers where he died several hours later on the surgeon’s deck.

John has made arrangements for the mail to continue. A crony here will see to things, and a pal in Miami will coordinate his end. So, for the time being, please continue using the Miami address.

England 40 Years Ago — January 24, 1982

Only in England! I was waiting in the car for Lisa to get out of school and idly watching several moving men unload a van. My interest perked up when an older couple drove up and the young new owners came out to greet them. The man was wearing a tie!!! His wife looked smart, too, though dressed in slacks and a pretty smock top. I couldn’t believe they were in the middle of a move and looking so spiffy.

Our warming trend brought more than a thaw – the birds are trilling merrily. You’d think spring had arrived.

John had occasion to enter $’s room after he’d been put to bed. John described him as being like a mother hen sitting on her eggs – the blanket was in its usual place completely covering his head, and he was lying on an armful of matchbox toys. [That almost sounds like a bed of nails to me.]

I went to visit Paula at her home for a short while one morning. She looks good and is getting excited about bringing Nicholas home in a few weeks. [He was born with spina bifida and had to stay in the hospital much longer than Paula.] The nursery she’s fixed up is more exciting than our three had – cute wallpaper, new light fixture, shining cot, new blankets, toys, books and a wardrobe full of new little clothes.

John was told to stay home during the rail strike this past week. Again, the action stopped all trains for two week days and seriously disrupted things the other days. It was fun having John home. He drove the girls to school both days, had time to visit with me in the mornings, and was working on the phone all afternoon while I was fetching the girls. He finds this strike a nuisance because there are many things he wants to get cleared up before he leaves.

Today we went to St. Mary’s in Reigate for the first time in months. $ fell asleep during the service and didn’t give his dad any trouble. We took a half hour drive after the service to kill time before going to the Hull’s house for Sunday lunch. They served a joint, roast potatoes, leeks from their freezer, fresh sprouts from their garden, lemon mousse, and rhubarb crumble. After an hour’s walk on the common, we came back for tea.

When the discussion at the table centered on travel, I asked Gillian where she’d like to go. She said she’d never been to the Lake District, would like to see that, and has a great desire to walk on Hadrian’s Wall. John H responded to that question with enthusiasm mentioning Africa, Chile, Brazil, South East Asia and six weeks in the sun in California. Gillian then said, “If you’re talking about TRAVEL, I’d choose New Zealand.”

Lisa had her friend from Micklefield and Dunottar come spend a few hours Saturday. Yasmine is one of the top students and so very pleasant. She has been kind to pay attention to Kate, too. The three of them got along remarkably well. We did miss seeing any of the neighbors who live under the same roof this weekend; I think this is only the second or third weekend we’ve not seen one or another of them since we moved here almost a year ago.

This has been a rather uneventful week. Sorry I couldn’t find more to write about.

Snow Melt Art

Until this year, the best part of snow was watching it fall and hoping it would stick. During the last snowstorm, I paused occasionally to watch it and was rewarded with about eight inches of it piled on the deck. Days of melt ensued. I had no use for this destructive process until I looked at the design where snow had melted. There seemed to be dark fanciful animals leaping there.

About half an hour later I looked at the white bits and saw a white Yorkie on the left, followed by others with their muzzles behind the dog ahead. On the right are several dachshunds.

Three days later there was a special design under a plant stand. I’m not sure if snow clung to the stand, keeping it from accumulating below, or if it melted and dripped on snow under it. Obviously, I missed the action as this was forming.

John and I were walking in a light flurry when we noticed Sadie licking the snow off the road as she walked. I failed to record that design, but I did catch her in the act of scooping up snow with her tongue.

I am so happy that snow now has two dimensions for me – one coming, the other going.

England 40 Years Ago — January 17, 1982

We came back to this country just in time for a total rail strike. According to the paper, only 5 percent of the riders depend on rails for getting to work. I find that hard to believe, but probably only because it affects us.

John went to work the day after our return, worked until early afternoon, came home to pick up clothes and went back to a hotel room his secretary found for him. He told me over the phone that it was a nice room – I had visions of his being stuck in a miserable dump of a dorm as happened one summer in Oslo.

Of course, it’s never convenient to have one’s routine disrupted. The day John left, I had a virus – the kind that gives you a headache so that being hit by a hammer would be welcome. The night after he left, Kate sat at the dinner table breathing heavily over the vomit basin. Nothing happened; she fell asleep in the living room, and I had to carry her upstairs. Then Lise woke me at 5 a.m. wanting medicine for a heavy cough that developed during the night. John returned at the weekend (English would say “at” rather than “on”) having been away for three nights.

I wouldn’t wish anyone ill health, but I’ve wanted to get inside a hospital since we moved here. I knew they were vastly different from American ones from reading English novels. I got the chance, and for the best of reasons. Paula [a young woman working in the supermarket who flirted with $ as she checked us out] had her baby a week and a half ago and was still in hospital. (They keep them for a long time for the first baby. Second and subsequent babies and mums are chucked out after one or two days.) I was told that visiting hours on maternity were from half past three to half past four. The hospital in Redhill is a conglomeration of odd buildings, most not connected to each other. I had to ask the way three times. “Straight ahead, turn right, go through that building, straight ahead, through that building, into the next, up the stairs and turn right” is what the first man said, I think. I might be there still if the way out hadn’t been marked. A nurse looked on her list for Paula’s name and directed me on the last turn. I saw a kitchen as large as mine with a cooker and a huge kettle sitting on it. I think the nurses make tea for their wards. Then on into the ward. There were about eight beds, four on each side and quite large windows. Past a glass partition were another eight beds. I tried to peer at each patient unobtrusively, but I couldn’t find Paula. One patient in the far ward didn’t know her name. Then I found one in the first ward who had known her. I was stunned when she said Paula left to go home half an hour before. I left in defeat only to return to the car park for more punishment. I couldn’t get the car up the icy hill! In only a few minutes one lady tried to help, joined shortly by a man. I was so grateful – the man put sand before the rear wheels, and the lady produced two pieces of card board.

Soon after I got home, I was able to get Paula’s mother on the telephone. She chatted for a long time explaining that Paula’s brother-in-law had taken her to the other hospital to see her baby. The baby had a spinal problem, was taken to this other hospital in Carshalton for an operation, and will be released in a month. Two weeks before the baby’s discharge, Paula will go to that hospital to live in for two weeks learning how to manage the baby. He will never walk, but his brain is fine.

I’m still adding to my vocabulary. Would you hazard a guess as to who the “roundsman” is? He’s the man who delivers milk to the front door.

Lisa has been teaching $ his first lessons in manners – shaking hands. One day he solemnly walked up to our bare old Christmas tree, with his right hand shook a branch and said, “How da do?”

[There were no photos linked to this letter, so I’m adding one of $ in the garden with the gnome. He loved the statue and probably talked to it.]

I’d used $’s usual mugs and gave him one of Kate’s for lunch. He didn’t want to drink from it, saying all the while, “Kate. Kate.” I was shocked that he would know whose it was since we have 20 to 30 mugs.

To put it in the words of the English, John has been made redundant. This week they gave him notice that he is not to work beyond 29 January. We knew it might be in the offing since a big company had been called in to do personnel studies. I think there will be only one American left after June. John is telling everyone he’s been given a five month vacation; the terms of the contract are that he is to be paid until the end of June. I don’t know the details, but the company has been most generous, and we won’t land in the poor house unless John fails to find a job by March 1983.

What we find odd is that they are willing to pay out all this money, getting no work in return. After the two next hectic weeks, John plans to do some of the school driving and concentrate on helping Kate with her homework. He does have a definite job interview next week with the president of a company in New York, and all his broker friends are feeding him with tips of other positions. At the moment, all our plans are up in the air. John hopes to travel as much as possible in Europe before starting a new job. (I should quickly add that the interview will take place in London, not New York.)

Don’t know yet what will happen about mail. Stay tuned, and we’ll let you know. Stay tuned means keep writing. Don’t use the above as an excuse, PLEASE!

Far from being upset, we are looking forward to this new phase of life, trying out retirement. We know the Lord sent us here for a reason; we know we will be taken care of, and if we do land in the poor house, then we know there is a mission there, too. Please save your sympathy and worry for someone who needs it, but do pray for guidance for us.

A Satisfying Snow

Before the snow began on Saturday night, we knew the church building would be closed on Sunday. We could sleep late, those of us not overly eager to see snow falling. I checked once in the wee hours, and our world was already white. That was a sweet sleep for me, knowing the storm had started and everyone was snug in bed.

I took the first video at 8:52.

Sadie seemed to love the snow as much as I did. John $pencer would take her out to play later.

I have often seen birds fly between the bars of the deck, but now I have proof. A song sparrow was feeding on the deck. When I startled him, he flew low enough to knock out a square of snow. I presume his landing gear was still down.

I wanted a good shot of the snow on the deck.

Upon looking closer, I saw we had a new kind of bird on top of the stand. I labeled the picture Skunk Bird.

While listening to our church service on line, I watched the snow and the birds flying to the feeder. That was double worship for me. John, son $, grandson David, and I spent time together chatting and eating, while I continued to watch the snow. What a satisfying day it was!

Puddle Tapping

On a day that was not so cold, I took a video of tapping ice. I find it almost irresistible to walk by a frozen puddle if there is white ice on top. Seeing white means there is air between the water and the ice. Tapping the brittle ice makes a crackling sound that is most satisfying. John was standing by, ready to assist. He gallantly offers his arm when the ice is thin, because I would get my foot wet if I lost my balance.

If any of you do this, please let me know. Finding a kindred spirit would be exciting.