February 2, 1966
Dearest Mom and Dad,
The Fernie Hunt was scheduled at Wardley last Saturday. I packed a lunch and we all set out, arriving just at 11:15 as the hounds were on their way. The day was overcast and quite windy. We drove around and around (getting stuck in the mud at one point) but lost sight of them and came home - most disappointing, for me, anyway. I like to stick any sport out to the bitter end. Oh, well. Roger's barrelling along at the lab, so that he was anxious to spend the afternoon there.
I didn't have to wait long to satisfy my thirst for a good hunt. Monday dawned blue-skyed, sunny and warm, and the Quorn was scheduled for Willoughby-on-the-Wolds. What more could one ask? I cheerfully packed the family off to school and work and hopped in the car and was off! It was a perfectly glorious day, so much so that EVERYONE was out to see the hunt. There were well over a hundred in the hunting party plus almost that many cars. I stood on that same pile of stones by the road and watched them congregate in that same ridge-and-furrow field we photographed before. It was a sight to behold. Lady Earl looked as impeccable as ever. The hounds looked sharp and beautifully controlled. There were several gents in top hats - many ladies side-saddle. Magnifique!
I soon found out why the Willoughby-on-the-Wolds hunt is so popular: the coverts are right there (four of them), all easily seen from the road. We had a marvelous view of the hounds in the covert with the whippers-in (out-riders) at the three corners and hunt master at the 4th plus the mob of hunters. We then saw the fox bolt from the covert and scoot over to the next, saw the hounds catch the scent and follow, and then the horn and the procession of riders! Great!
This went on for 3 or 4 more coverts until the poor fox was finally stopped - again in a spot easily seen by every single spectator - at the edge of another covert three or so miles away. They tried a second round, but the hounds were having great difficulty in finding a scent and half the riders had had enough; so after looking at some fascinating birds (bright yellow "Yellow Hammers" singing and flitting madly in a meadow opposite), I, too, started for home.
I passed Lady Earl walking her horse (gorgeous animal) slowly back to her horse box on the verges and stopped to take a picture. It was the 21st shot on a 20-frame film, so there's only a chance I'll get something. She really is so blind she didn't see me taking it, but she did hear the shutter click, so she turned around and smiled in my general direction. I returned her smile. She is truly a most remarkable woman.
Wish you'd been with me!
Love,
Mary
* * * * *
February 2nd
Dearest Mom and Dad,
Happy Anniversary tomorrow! 39 is an impressive number for such globe-trotters! We're with you in our thoughts as you celebrate the occasion!
Jerry Jenkins finally called with the name of a dancing teacher, so I hastened to make a date. Last night was the night. Just as Rog and I were pulling out of the drive, a familiar light-green Mini drove up to the house. Dorothy and Lesley had my application form to be filled out for a weekend at the
Guider
Training
Center, Waddow. I apologized for having to dash but quickly arranged to "pop in" at Dorothy's after our lesson to plot and plan future Guiding activities.
Off we went, Roger and I, on yet another delightful adventure into the British way of doing things. Mrs. Cornish is a most attractive young wife and mother about my age who rents a room at the
Institute of
Foresters on High Street two nights a week. She was just saying good-bye to a class as we arrived - all obviously good friends and having a grand time.
She hadn't asked us anything about what we've already done, or even "Are you beginner, intermediate, or advanced?" The reason became clear shortly: like everything else, dancing in
England is graded step by step with examinations to prove one's standing! As we started working on fox trot and waltz (our choice), she immediately spotted the different dancing positions and corrected same; after all, since the fox trot was started and developed in England - along with the slow waltz (30 to 32 measures per minute as opposed to 48 plus something or other which would be a fast waltz and therefore Viennese!) the English way is THE way, is it not? So, by damn, my left hand now squeezes Roger's right whatever-is-directly-above-the-biceps with my thumb and middle finger in a balletic position! GREAT! And, teacher, what big steps you take! And HEEL first in stepping out? Why, what would Arthur Murray say?!?
Well, we had a ball. She's thoroughly delightful. We learned some very nice, very English waltz and fox trot steps and had a most enjoyable time. I can't wait until we get back to our Lansdowne dances and wow them with the way the English do it! It really is old-fashioned by our standards, but never mind! That's all part of the game!
I can't help but recall her telling us of her husband's reaction to learning a cha-cha - "I'd be a Charlie to go out and do that!"!
After leaving Rog at 1,
Skelton Drive, I went back to the Captain's house. We sat in the front room around an electric fire and had a delightful time planning Daphne's Queen's Guide Presentation and Thinking Day and our weekend at Waddow. We three really do get along famously together. Who ever would think it if one were to just point out these three individuals? Hooray for Guiding and all things that bring people of differing walks of life together in a bond of friendship and love!
Love,
Mary
P.S. Pete Flynn has received orders for
Vietnam for 14 to 18 months! Madeline's neck is still in a brace with bi-weekly injections of something-or-other. Six kids. I wish them well.
* * * * *
February 2, 1966
Dearest Mom and Dad,
This spring-like weather is truly enough to make one drunk! Sunday afternoon Roger was working, so I went over to
Knighton Drive and got Barbara, Vicky, Mark, Trevor (boy next door) and with Scott headed out into the country. We stopped at King's Norton where there's an adorable little church that has cathedral lines but is the size of a small parish church. We then drove on to Rolleston where there's a huge, lovely estate owned by a rich German industrialist who's kind enough to allow people to walk (not drive) down to a most beautiful lake on his property. It's breathtakingly beautiful. I took some pictures but want to return for more at another season. The countryside is so beautiful in winter, with the bare trees in outline but the ground green - and that precious little butterball of a robin to greet you wherever you go! Would that someone had introduced the English Robin into
America instead of the English Sparrow!
I did more driving around on my own yesterday and had a ball, an absolute ball! Again it was warm and sunny. I found a small covert with a Song Thrush warbling away and two perfectly adorable little lambs playing ever so happily in the field nearby while Mother Ewe looked on with pride. Also I found a clump of early spring bulbs, yellow Winter Aconite (Eranthis Hyemalis, thanks to my book!). I had to laugh to myself as I went stalking along through the woods in 1st position, laughing at the pictures in the Guide handbook on stalking, which illustrate the 5 positions and recalling the Captain's story of the day she was to take her Stalker test and arrived at the campsite just as Miss briggs was "stalking" some poor animal in a position NOT the first and with ONE leaf held in front of her face! How we have laughed over it!
The Local History Badges arrived and were properly presented with salutes et al by the Captain. "Well done," she said. Both girls are most pleased.
The meeting Friday night was a riot. The Lieutenant was home with the flu, yet the Captain was determined to get the bulk of not-yet-2nd-classers up to 2nd class, so patrol time was ever so busy with testing this and testing that. She even had me testing three Guides on the Union Jack (I'm getting pretty good at it now!) However, when it came time to work on our spirituals, she was still watching 3 Guides tie knots; consequently, with all the distractions the music didn't come along as well as I'd hoped.
The Presentation of the Queen's Guide Award is to be made on the 11th with spirituals as the entertainment for parents and the Guide V.I.P.'s present, so we'd jolly well better get down to work this week. Daphne wrote a "thank-you-Captain-for-all-your-help" note to Dorothy. Captain was most pleased. Daphne was lauded by the headmistress of her school: said Miss
Moore, "It is a credit to the school, it's a credit to me, and it's a credit to yourself" - in that order - no mention of the Captain or the Guide organization. Such mentality!
Love,
Mary
* * * * *
February 9, 1966
Dearest Mom,
I'd love to "do" something with you - I'll even suggest something! On Friday the 18th there is to be a hedge-cutting competition in Leamington Spa, a short distance from
Warwick. They take this business of cutting hedges very seriously - to the extent of a 200-pound prize for the fellow who cuts the most and tucks the ends in most expertly in the least amount of time!
I realize that this may be too much as it's about an hour from London - also that night is a critical Guide meeting as it's our last chance (and only chance) to "dramatize" some spirituals. I can't wait to tell you about it. It's going to be great, if that rehearsal on the 18th goes well.
If you did want to see the hedge-cutting, I'd have to meet you there or else spend Thursday night in
London and we could drive out there Friday and you go back to town by train. I'd have a picnic in the boot, of course! Otherwise, I'll just accept for Thursday and take an early train down and then won't have to worry about getting back.
Roger has finally succumbed to the strep throat. Dr. Bostock says "Sorry" and gives him some pills and a bottle of blue medicine labeled "The Gargle." Evidently it's really bilious - but under Socialized Medicine there is The Gargle, The Salve, The Pill, etc. Great. Did I tell you that in
Leicester the waiting period for a hernia operation is 2 years or longer? There's a big flap about it in the local news right now. I'm making a scrapbook of "only in
England" news items that's really pretty good in spots. Rog has made me promise never to show it to an Englishman!
I'm off on some errands. My list has gotten ever so long as I've been spending day after day out in the country "observing" nature: trying to spot birds and learn to identify trees by their bark and twigs. I love this countryside; it really is beautiful and I feel very much at home in it. There's a real advantage in being a naturalist here: there are fewer varieties AND they are ALL within sight! If it's a bird that lives in the woods, you can see it because there are no woods you can't reach and no woods so dense that you can't stand at the edge and see in! And the distance between open country and woods is nil as they're always side by side . . . all most rewarding.
The Lieutenant and I have been accepted at Waddow for the Guider training on March 4,5, and 6, so I want to be somewhat familiar with local nature lore.
Enough. I must dash to the market place for some of those lovely mushrooms grown in Blaby, no less, whose diameter is that of this page! I eat them for breakfast and lunch, they are so delicious. I SHALL miss them at home - and pork pies. We ALL ADORE pork pies now - lovely - less work for Mother!
See you soon,
Much love,
Mary
* * * * *
February 13th
Dearest Mom and Dad,
Like many a successful party, the hostess may not for the life of her see how it is all going to work early in the day, but when THE hour rolls around, everything falls into place so smoothly that the guests don't want to go home!
Being responsible for refreshments for 60 people, Julia had spent so much time and energy on the center-piece that by noon on Friday she still had no idea as to what she needed or how much! I let it ride intentionally to force her to realize she must plan better in the future - the very reason for challenge preps before meeting the challenge. No argument there.
I sent her off to Wigston for a French lesson and hied myself down to see my pal, Mrs. Dwyer at Smith's. She was most helpful, as usual, and took about 25 minutes to help me plan the details. Then I scooted over to the North's to purchase all this material, then home to help Julia plan and prepare. Once she really applied herself to making lists, it all organized itself quickly and she knuckled down to work.
Not one of her three helpers showed up, in spite of phone calls, so she did the baking and setting out all by herself. We actually managed to get to the church rooms early and get everything set up. We had a little practice on drill and quickly enrolled three new girls before the guests arrived. This was a disappointment to me, as I would have thought it would be even nicer to have their enrollment a part of the same ceremony - sort of the beginning and the highest award in Guiding all in the same evening IS rather dramatic. Never mind.
Many parents were there, also the District Commissioner as well as the
County
Commissioner. The singing went very well. We got all the grown-ups to clap a syncopated rhythm while we sang a blues song and were just about to sing about how nice heaven is when the Vicar entered! The girls were seated on the floor in a horseshoe around me (I having to conduct in a kneeling position, which was novel but tolerable) while the parents sat on chairs directly behind the girls - a very nice arrangement, Scout-like and intimate. As I said, they stayed on and on and on, all smiling and chatty, so I know it was a success.
Daphne was thrilled to get Mom's card. It meant a lot to her. She's a dear.
We did have to cancel our trip to
London, however, due to weather, threatened train strike, and Roger's health ... mostly the latter. He's coming along well, but draining water pipes and driving down the M-1 on slick roads and tromping around a frozen
London are not for the convalescent. So I get a night at Les Ambassadeurs instead! Lovely!
Peter and Barbara celebrated a 15th wedding anniversary on the 10th: red carnations, freesias, fern, and white heather were her wedding bouquet 15 years ago - also on her breakfast tray Thursday morning. She said she got downright emotional ...' was SURE he'd forgotten!
Love,
Mary
* * * * *
February 13th
Dearest Mom and Dad,
Did I tell you that the coal men delivered a third load of coal? ! * ! * ! That man in the office must have made out a new order every time we made an inquiry, and there's no stopping the delivery once these guys are at your door with a black sack on their backs! So the mound (literally) of coal out in the Guides' Garden is bigger than ever! With this new cold snap it's nice to see it there, though - at least downstairs can be kept warm. In fact, they gave us so much junk coal that we can only keep a HOT fire going. When it burns, it oozes and drips a thick black syrupy liquid and spits and hisses at such a rate that a small fire would be quickly extinguished by its own impurities! So the formula now reads: lots of hot fires!
Barbara has been working like a beaver to get the paint scraped off that dismal front hallway. She has actually engaged a man to come paint and paper some time this month and wants to save herself pounds (money) by doing most herself. I can hardly wait to see it finished.
We went off yesterday to buy the kids some
Wellingtons - passed two of the Guides pulling a donkey's cart filled to the brim with newspaper and rummage they'd collected for the rummage sale next Friday. Wish I'd had my camera!
Love,
Mary
* * * * *
February 19th
Dear Dad,
I'll try to write, but, oops, here goes the train. Oh, well!
I came down to
London town on Thursday to spend the day with Mom. We chatted for a while, then went to Harrod's to get some yummy yarn for Gay's sweater, had luncheon, and went over to the World Bureau for tea. They've made great strides in their redecorating - are about to lay hall rugs and have completed some rooms upstairs. It's greatly improved since your visit in January, evidently. All most delightful. They're such fun people!
Back to the flat for a rest, then a drink (first round mixed by Betty and 2nd by
Elizabeth in your absence) and dinner there. Friday Mom and I had breakfast with Betty and Elizabeth while the phone jangled with friends trying to find a moment to see Mom. We took it easy until time to go to Headquarters for a grand tour followed by lunch with more friends.
I came home JUST in time for Guides. I'd promised the Captain I'd be there. In fact, she'd promised to let me have the whole company for a final rehearsal while a rummage sale busied about upstairs. Well, there was SO much to sell and so many people there to buy that she needed the older girls to help out, so my rehearsal was spontaneously altered. I'll have to be even more clever come Tuesday evening for these brilliant ideas to get across. Let's just call it "a challenge for a good cause."
Much, much love,
Mary
* * * * *
February 19th, 1966
Dearest Dad,
I'm sitting on the train about to leave St. Pancras' station to go back to
Leicester after witnessing one of the most moving ceremonies I've ever attended. Just by happenstance I was having lunch at British Girl Guide Headquarters when one of Mom's Guide pals joined us with a pink ticket for the Westminster Abbey Rededication Ceremony. The owner had turned it in due to poor health. Even though it meant my going all the way back to
Leicester last night and coming down again today, it was worth every single moment.
Many times I wonder about forms of worship - about quakers and their silence, Baptists and their singing, Methodists and their preaching - yet when I participate in a service like this at Westminster with so much pure beauty in the architecture and the organ with its dignity (thought-provoking dignity) in the service itself, such beauty in the words spoken, such great respect shown the people who deserve respect (including Princess Margaret who was there in uniform looking lovely and so pleased to be there) - I just can't help but feel that this is right. Surely God would be moved and pleased, too.
You would have loved it. I thought of you. It's ever so beautiful (the Abbey) now that it's all cleaned. It really looks new - really a sight. And, as if all this wasn't already enough, as the procession of wreaths were leading the recessional (to be placed on Lord Baden-Powell's Memorial on the way out) the sun broke out most brilliantly, and the entire abbey was absolutely, breathtakingly bright.
Mom was sitting up front in a high-ranking place among all her wonderful friends, each one more of a peach than the last one. It's downright exciting to realize there are so many wonderful, wonderful people around doing such good things for other people and enjoying it all so much.
I sure wish you'd been here, but you were in spirit.
Much, much love,
Mary
* * * * *
February 23, 1966
Thinking Day plus 1
Dearest Dad,
My appreciation of you increases daily as I become more aware of what it must be like to be married to a Girl Scout! This past week has been thick with Guiding activities, yet my dear husband, bless him, seems to grow more appreciative of it all instead of less and less enthusiastic. I'll never understand "why", but I thank God for it! They really ought to devise some sort of very extra-special pin or award for those married to an enthusiastic Girl Guide/Scout. You and Rog should have yours signed by I-don't-know-who-is-great-enough-to-qualify!!!
The beauty and dignity and import of the Westminster Abbey Service lingers with me. I only wish that Lady B.P. could have been there. All agreed that there had never been any like it. Little touches like the trumpet fanfare that was played absolutely to perfection (literally) by the 13th Coventry Scout Group were extra-special moments never to be forgotten. I learned only last night that there is a regular fanfare group that does all that sort of thing at the Abbey who preferred to do it themselves lest it not be done properly, but the Scouts asked for an audition to prove their ability, had same, and were then gladly given permission to play as they were admirably qualified indeed.
Another touch was the ringing of the bells. The last words of the program read: "The Bells of the
Abbey
Church will then be rung." I never gave it another thought until the time came. Just after the Dismissal and the Blessing, when the sun broke out and the entire Abbey was bright with color as few have seen it for hundreds of years, the bells started ringing. They rang and rang and rang. Even after we had worked our way slowly past the Baden-Powell Memorial (colorfully surrounded by flowers) and out the Great West Door, the bells were still ringing, ringing, ringing. The very sound of them said unequivocally, "This is an important occasion". As far as the eye could see - everywhere- were Scouts and Guides in uniforms from all over the world. It was most moving. I shall never - ever- forget it.
Three days later was Thinking Day. The girls' school started the day with a service for same with all Guides (plus two American Girl Scouts) in uniform. At 7:30 p.m. that evening the entire district met at the school for their program. The Brownies played some games, the District Commissioner talked about the meaning of Thinking Day and presented the retiring Brown Owl with a gift of appreciation for 35 years of service. Actually, she was the Captain's Brown Owl when Dorothy was a young girl!
The program was then turned over to this Mrs. WALMsley from
America. I had my 8th Leicesters sit in a circle around me and all the others sitting behind them (a very workable arrangement for obtaining the best atmosphere for a campfire, providing one has protection for the knees, as the leader spends most of the time conducting on same!). All present seemed to have heard the latest pop song:
"
England swings like a pendulum do -
Bobbies on a bicycle, two by two -
Westminster Abbey, the Tower of Big Ben,
And the rosy red cheeks of the little children."
So we sang it. Having thereby established "England Swings" as the theme of the evening, I felt qualified to move on into negro spirituals, as it was from them that swing developed. We sang several spirituals, which everyone seemed to enjoy. Then I spent several minutes talking about Scouting in the
U.S.A., while the 8th
Leicesters retreated to the cloakroom to smear cocoa on their faces and don the most delightful assortment of old hats, coats, 'kerchiefs, old dangling earrings. After the others had played a game, they reappeared looking a picture! Roger took some photos, so keep your fingers crossed that they turn out!
We proceeded to continue our program of spirituals, but with the added dimension of dramatization, so that by the end of the evening all present had a clear idea of the many, many ways in which the spiritual developed - but more particularly the reason for the development: namely, that those people brought with them two precious gifts, rhythm and spirit - and with these two gifts they obeyed the 8th Guide Law ("A Girl Guide smiles and sings under all difficulties). The result was the wealth of negro spirituals which have been sung the world over and have become the basis of swing itself, which is THE popular music-medium of today. Indeed, "
England Swings."
It went as well as I had dared dream it would. Even Roger told me more than once how successful it was ! I was most pleased that Miss Briggs was able to come; she enjoyed herself thoroughly. Captain and Lieutenant were smiling broadly, and all the Guides went home swinging!
So all in all, this week was a Thinking Day downright unforgettable in my book - like going through another Christmas holiday - with the pleasant glow of fond memories that lingers on and buoys you up for even MORE Guide activity!
Much love,
Mary
* * * * *
