on Friday. The electrician had told him a cable was dead when in fact it was very lively indeed. Four Fishers came to lunch on Friday: Mrs F now drives a jumbo-sized Mercedes. Marcus Fisher killed 2 pheasants, thereby anticipating the start of the season by a couple of months. We ourselves are going to Wales for a few days, somewhere near Harlech. I rather like the Welsh, they are amusingly sly and dishonest. As a matter of fact I tend to get on well with most foreigners bar the Scotch whom I dislike quite a lot. I loathe bagpipes, kilts, the Scottish accent and the barbaric cooking at Scotch hotels. Argyllshire reminded me of Woking except that the ponds were bigger and the food far worse. I rather like Belgium – hideous, quarrelsome people but excellent cooks and gardeners. I also rather like Egyptians who are too idle even to flick away the bluebottles crawling over their eyeballs. I don’t know Poland very well but lived there for a bit. Most Poles are romantic but agreeable. I think I can still say ‘Good Morning’ and ‘This lavatory smells awful’ in Polish. My Arabic is limited to ‘Does your father live in the Old City?’ Not very useful, on the whole! I rather think the Arabic for ‘Impossible’ is ‘mushmumkin’. It was unfortunate that the Arabic for ‘Allied Military Government’ was the same as for ‘dog-turd’.
Love to all,
XX D
Dinner at La Riviera is one of the highlights of my father’s life, but he is not as enthusiastic about either Scotland or its inhabitants.
Chez Nidnod
Monday
Dearest L,
I hope you had a nice time in sunny Devonshire and that you behaved with reasonable decorum. Nidnod is in very good form, Peregrine having been declared ‘Champion dog’ at the Flower and Dog show. I had hoped the Cringer would win the Veterans Class but he was in a bad mood and refused to cooperate. However he was placed second despite peeing on the judge’s handbag. There were some good stalls at the show and I bought a plum cake for £1 and 2 books for 5p each. I did a very good vase (red dahlias and carnations with grey foliage) for the Floral Decoration Class but had no luck; the prize went to some frightfully chi-chi exhibit, old man’s beard and stinkwort in what looked like an old shoe. I went to a rather ghastly funeral last week, the climax came when a royal Artillery Trumpeter played the Last Post while the organist was flat out with Sheep May Safely Graze. Lupin is here (plus dog) and has gone to see some quack over near Basingstoke. All men are hypochondriacs at heart. We have 20 people coming to lunch on Sunday and already Nidnod is rather excited. I am getting in lots of Spanish brandy of the kind that would make a week old corpse leap lightly from the coffin and enter for a six day race. My watch has gone wrong for the first time since I bought it in Hartley Wintney five years before you were born. (Not very interesting but I’m pushed for news.)
Best Love and a XXX for Rebecca
D
Flower arranging is not a skill one would immediately associate with my father. However, he could actually put together quite a good display.
Budds Farm
5 September
Dearest L,
Not many squeaks from you lately! Nidnod is well but worried because old Doris Bean, who keeps her horse and is 81, fell down in her kitchen last week and broke her thigh. No joke at that age – or at any other age, either! I took Nidnod and the dogs for a walk by the River Kennett the other afternoon. When we got home panting for a cup of tea Nidnod discovered she had dropped the burglar-alarm keys so we were locked out. We had to drive back to where we had walked, and thanks to my Boy Scout training the keys were found! Mrs Surtees took Peregrine’s mother to the West Ilsley Dog Show. The poor little thing (the dog, not Mrs S.) was attacked by a lurcher who was dragged off just in time. Seven stitches had to be inserted at a cost of £35.
I suppose I had a couple of pleasant days at Brighton staying with Cousin John
Love to all,
XX D
Dinner at La Riviera is one of the highlights of my father’s life, but he is not as enthusiastic about either Scotland or its inhabitants.
Chez Nidnod
Monday
Dearest L,
I hope you had a nice time in sunny Devonshire and that you behaved with reasonable decorum. Nidnod is in very good form, Peregrine having been declared ‘Champion dog’ at the Flower and Dog show. I had hoped the Cringer would win the Veterans Class but he was in a bad mood and refused to cooperate. However he was placed second despite peeing on the judge’s handbag. There were some good stalls at the show and I bought a plum cake for £1 and 2 books for 5p each. I did a very good vase (red dahlias and carnations with grey foliage) for the Floral Decoration Class but had no luck; the prize went to some frightfully chi-chi exhibit, old man’s beard and stinkwort in what looked like an old shoe. I went to a rather ghastly funeral last week, the climax came when a royal Artillery Trumpeter played the Last Post while the organist was flat out with Sheep May Safely Graze. Lupin is here (plus dog) and has gone to see some quack over near Basingstoke. All men are hypochondriacs at heart. We have 20 people coming to lunch on Sunday and already Nidnod is rather excited. I am getting in lots of Spanish brandy of the kind that would make a week old corpse leap lightly from the coffin and enter for a six day race. My watch has gone wrong for the first time since I bought it in Hartley Wintney five years before you were born. (Not very interesting but I’m pushed for news.)
Best Love and a XXX for Rebecca
D
Flower arranging is not a skill one would immediately associate with my father. However, he could actually put together quite a good display.
Budds Farm
5 September
Dearest L,
Not many squeaks from you lately! Nidnod is well but worried because old Doris Bean, who keeps her horse and is 81, fell down in her kitchen last week and broke her thigh. No joke at that age – or at any other age, either! I took Nidnod and the dogs for a walk by the River Kennett the other afternoon. When we got home panting for a cup of tea Nidnod discovered she had dropped the burglar-alarm keys so we were locked out. We had to drive back to where we had walked, and thanks to my Boy Scout training the keys were found! Mrs Surtees took Peregrine’s mother to the West Ilsley Dog Show. The poor little thing (the dog, not Mrs S.) was attacked by a lurcher who was dragged off just in time. Seven stitches had to be inserted at a cost of £35.
I suppose I had a couple of pleasant days at Brighton staying with Cousin John
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