Peter Coats turns up as Petticoats all over Nancy Mitford's letters, as does Channon ('vile and spiteful and silly,' also something about having a pitch-black soul. Many hilarious references to his top-tier social climbing). I think you'd LOVE them if you haven't read.
Ooh I will read. Oddly NM is only mentioned once or twice very briefly in CC’s diaries and in passing, and not at all in PC’s. I was expecting her to feature much more prominently.
Having tummy troubles in a heatwave is basically being on holiday without having g to do the flight thing. So if you could get a friend to kidnap a suitcase with all your clothes in it till next Tuesday, you’ll have the full experience at a fraction of the cost.
Not ashamed to admit I nodded off in that game. SO. BORING. We were only saved because some clever person had clearly snuck into the Panamanian dressing room and recalibrated all their strikers’ targeting systems to aim for a goal thirty feet above the pitch.
I think you could expand on the theory around man-made hierarchical systems. It starts at public school with complex terminology and slang, stretches through Oxbridge and the clubs there and peaks with these mad secret societies. My dad was a member of a few, it felt like he was either in morning dress (complete with antique top hat) or evening dress, normally including some ridiculous medallion or badge representing whatever society he was off to. My mother thought it was all tedious nonsense but did get access to some wonderful country houses and classic gardens which was good.
Absolutely right. But then even those educated outside the public school system seem to love it. It’s like there has to be a ladder and you have to know which rung you’re on in relation to other men or else you’ll be lost in a void.
My mother adored cricket & tennis. God help you if you tried to talk to her when she was watching. We didn’t visit during Wimbledon. She didn’t pass this on…. I always preferred to play something rather than watch. Cricket was out, I invariably shut my eyes when the ball came at me. Tennis ok, but netball was my sport. We actually played the Singapore national team when we lived in Singapore. The score was something like 6 - 30… I was shooter attack. Mum played lacrosse, it sounded great but nobody played it anymore when I was at school. I rode. Loved cross country!
It’s rained gently for over an hour, I’m cold. It’s 21C…
Dahlias and roses need feeding. Dogs need walking.
Peter Coats turns up as Petticoats all over Nancy Mitford's letters, as does Channon ('vile and spiteful and silly,' also something about having a pitch-black soul. Many hilarious references to his top-tier social climbing). I think you'd LOVE them if you haven't read.
Ooh I will read. Oddly NM is only mentioned once or twice very briefly in CC’s diaries and in passing, and not at all in PC’s. I was expecting her to feature much more prominently.
No love lost I don't think
Having tummy troubles in a heatwave is basically being on holiday without having g to do the flight thing. So if you could get a friend to kidnap a suitcase with all your clothes in it till next Tuesday, you’ll have the full experience at a fraction of the cost.
Not ashamed to admit I nodded off in that game. SO. BORING. We were only saved because some clever person had clearly snuck into the Panamanian dressing room and recalibrated all their strikers’ targeting systems to aim for a goal thirty feet above the pitch.
I think you could expand on the theory around man-made hierarchical systems. It starts at public school with complex terminology and slang, stretches through Oxbridge and the clubs there and peaks with these mad secret societies. My dad was a member of a few, it felt like he was either in morning dress (complete with antique top hat) or evening dress, normally including some ridiculous medallion or badge representing whatever society he was off to. My mother thought it was all tedious nonsense but did get access to some wonderful country houses and classic gardens which was good.
Absolutely right. But then even those educated outside the public school system seem to love it. It’s like there has to be a ladder and you have to know which rung you’re on in relation to other men or else you’ll be lost in a void.
That's the perfect way to put it. It reminds me of that Monty Python Sketch of the class system. I'm sure you know it. https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&opi=89978449&url=https://www.facebook.com/thejohncleese/videos/the-class-system-sketch-from-1966-with-ronnie-barker-ronnie-corbett-johncleese-c/1870718759725920/&ved=2ahUKEwi3_NHS3amVAxXjBdsEHWQVG48QwqsBegQIGhAB&sqi=2&usg=AOvVaw0TpFN5TMBNpklbbiuV-CUQ
I LOVE a Norman Parkinson photo! Glad you are feeling better xx
Norman Parkinson is an iconic photographer.
My mother adored cricket & tennis. God help you if you tried to talk to her when she was watching. We didn’t visit during Wimbledon. She didn’t pass this on…. I always preferred to play something rather than watch. Cricket was out, I invariably shut my eyes when the ball came at me. Tennis ok, but netball was my sport. We actually played the Singapore national team when we lived in Singapore. The score was something like 6 - 30… I was shooter attack. Mum played lacrosse, it sounded great but nobody played it anymore when I was at school. I rode. Loved cross country!
It’s rained gently for over an hour, I’m cold. It’s 21C…
Dahlias and roses need feeding. Dogs need walking.
Time to leave your sickbed? Take it easy.