A Mitford Gathering

Several years ago, daughter Terry and I both read the Mitford books - a series by Jan Karon.  

We thoroughly enjoyed the books and encouraged many of our friends to read them.

The books deal with the life of a pastor, aged sixty-ish, living in a small American town and involve the lives of his old buddies, congregation and delightful next door neighbour - Cynthia.

The first line of the first book "At Home in Mitford" draws you in... 'He left the coffee-scented warmth of the Main Street Grill and stood for a moment under the green awning'.

Among the inhabitants of Mitford are many 'characters'. There is Mayor Esther Cunningham and her famous Orange Marmalade Cake.  

There are Miss Rose and her husband Uncle Billy.  Rose is extremely eccentric, dressing in cast-off clothes she finds in dumpsters and usually adding her deceased brother's war medals and decrepit army jacket to her ensembles.

Terry and I decided to host an afternoon tea with a Mitford theme, inviting friends who had read the series.  

One such friend loaned us an "Uncle Billy" in the form of a stuffed mannequin whom we dressed according to his description in the books.  Rose was my own creation - all I had was a styrofoam wig stand and a grey wig.  I built a body out of pillows including legs (pantyhose stuffed with tissue paper), old unlaced running shoes and used some of Ken's war medals to complete Rose's appearance.  As long as she remained seated, she was okay!

We made Esther Cunningham's famous Orange Marmalade Cake from the recipe that appeared in one of the books.  We all enjoyed tea and cake as we listened to a selection of readings from various books in the series.  Uncle Billy and Miss Rose, seated prominently by the fireplace, silently presided over the festivities. 

The gathering was a great success and we fortunately have a few photos of the event to treasure.

Writing this story has jogged my memory, reinforced by reading various notes from the guests of that afternoon tea. "Thank you for lending me such a delightful book with a pastor who attracts every woman in his parish, from the youngest to the oldest.  He is reminiscent of the bachelor 'Father Tim' that you find in old English villages - it was just priceless".  Another friend penned "As warm and fuzzy as hot chocolate on a cold day".

Now I can hardly wait to curl up and enjoy reading the Mitford series all over again!

GUESS WHO'S COMING TO DINNER?

Over the years, Ken and I have had some fascinating experiences.

One day sometime in the 1960's, Ken called me from work (the Post Office), saying "Guess who's coming to dinner?"  He had spent the afternoon giving a tour of the Victoria Post Office to a Postal Training Officer from Los Angeles, and had now invited this fellow, his wife and their daughter, to join us for supper. My dear husband explained that our guest was a Negro and would I please explain his colour to the kids. (Remember, this was the 1960's and Victoria was not a very cosmopolitan city).

Jesse, Myrtle and their daughter Pearl were delightful guests.  Jesse was as black as the ace of spades, Myrtle was a light brown. Pearl was a gorgeous caramel blend of the two.  She looked twenty-one, even though she was only fifteen. We thoroughly enjoyed their company.

Jesse and Myrtle took us out for drinks at the Bengal Room to show their appreciation. We met them at the Empress, where they were staying (a far cry from the time when, it is said, Rochester was turned away from that hotel when he was touring with Jack Benny).

Young Pearl (later to become a model) asked for coca cola while we adults enjoyed Harvey Wallbangers (all the rage at the time).   Because she asked for a drink, the alert waiter inquired as to her age.  When she responded "fifteen" she was asked to take her cola to a table in the hall, as she was under age and could not remain in the lounge.

A few years later, we stayed with the Robinsons on one of our trips down South.  They had a lovely home complete with a swimming pool - in the shape of California!  Jesse was a very popular guy who mingled with politicians and movie stars. Marilyn Monroe was a guest at one of his pool parties.  

Jesse was extremely proud of the many Christmas cards he had received over the years from various Presidents of the United States and other dignitaries and had them prominently displayed under a glass cover.  He attended all of the Olympic games, sometimes in capacity of a committee member.

He showed us the personal gym he had in his home, saying that he wouldn't dare jog around his neighborhood.  In fact, his property was surrounded by a chain link fence and boasted two guard dogs.

Ken and I ventured out into the neighborhood to buy some wine and beer at the local liquor store.  It felt odd to be the only non-blacks.  Later on we drove to a shopping area where we hoped to buy Jesse a book by Irving Wallace ('The Man') a work of fiction about the first black president of the United States. (who knew???).  The clerk at the store laughed at us and said "people around here don't read much, you'll have to find a proper bookstore".  Everyone was very helpful and friendly but we still uncomfortable in a sea of black faces - it gave us a greater understanding of how blacks feel in the reverse situation.

While we stayed with Jesse and Myrtle, we saw the famous Watts Towers. 

These amazing structures are constructed from steel rebar, a type of concrete, wrapped with wire mesh and embedded with pieces of porcelain, glass, tile and decorated with things like bottles, ceramic tiles, sea shells, figurines, mirrors, and even milk of magnesia bottles.

One morning our hosts asked what we would like for breakfast?  We said we had heard so much about 'grits' that we would like to try some.  Myrtle, who was a much admired school teacher, cooked up a batch for us, even though she said that they never ate 'the stuff'.  (Grits are coarsely ground corn kernels).  Myrtle was always casually attired around the home, often in a Cassius Clay t-shirt and slacks.

On our last evening with the Robinsons, an old auntie, who lived with them, decorated the dining table in grand style, with a pink tablecloth, pink napkins in the wine glasses. Everything looked perfect.  

Jesse came to the table wearing a violent orange-coloured jumpsuit.  Jokingly, I said "Jesse, you are clashing with Auntie's decor".  His face lit up with glee, and off he went, returning shortly, clad in a pure white jumpsuit. We all had a good laugh.

Auntie said grace over us at her prettily decorated table, saying "God go with you on your journey home, but if anything should happen, remember, it's not God's fault!"

Sadly, both Jesse and Myrtle have left us but we fondly remember them and the lessons they taught us.

AWAY AND HOME AGAIN - TRAVELS ON THE CONTINENT

Continental memories - once in Monaco, Ken and I sauntered along the harbour, blissfully unaware that a film crew was filming the famous racing car driver, Jackie Stewart, and Ken and I were in the way!  The whole sequence had to be redone - allowing us to capture it on our video camera!

Once, leaving Rome by train, we were headed for Bari to catch the ferry for Dubrovnik.  Our compartment companion was a priest.  He treated us to an espresso and on our arrival at Bari, leapt from the train, hailed a taxi, helped unload/load our luggage and paid the taxi fare.  Then with a wave and "God bless you!" he was gone.  These are experiences one never forgets.

In Dubrovnik we were housed with a delightful couple.  Like us, they had built their own home with a loan from a bank. Each morning, the host shook our hands and gave us some sort of alcoholic drink to start the day.  One of his daughters spoke English, which was very helpful.  We loved our time there and enjoyed many walks through the walled city taking in the view of the beautiful Adriatic Sea over the red-tiled rooftops.  

Yugoslavian food was fantastic and a concert under the stars one evening made our stay in this city perfect.

Oh the memories we have - including a night in Spain spent nightclubbing (those were the days!) and acting as chaperons for one of the young waitresses at our lovely hotel.

Traveling is wonderful. Ken and I have a wealth of memories, bolstered now by re-reading the detailed diaries we kept of every trip.  It is almost like enjoying the journeys all over again, but from the comfort of home, and as we all know - there is nothing like being home in your own bed!!

AWAY AND HOME AGAIN - TRAVELS IN BRITAIN

On one of our seven trips to England, we stayed with a very nice couple Ken met through research for his book, 'Dear Mum'.  The husband of this couple served as a seaman on the H.M.S. Ramillies during WWII. They lived in a three storey Victorian home with NO central heating.

The kitchen was cosy - this was where they spent the majority of their time.  The parlour 'boasted' a miniscule fireplace doing its very best to warm the frigid room.  While our hosts puttered about in the cosy kitchen making meal preparations, we 'guests' froze in the parlour and couldn't believe it when the husband called out to us to please let him know if we got too warm!!  When it was time to say good night, we climbed many stairs to the third floor and our icy bedroom. We wasted no time in hopping into bed but were delighted to find that our thoughtful hosts had turned on the electric blanket!

Once when we were visiting Wales, we found ourselves in Cardiff, blissfully unaware there was a conference underway in the city.  We searched in vain for accommodation and were relieved to finally locate a bed and breakfast.  The owner, a blowsy bottled blond trying desperately to look 30, sashayed her high-heeled way ahead of us up a steep flight of stairs, saying she could 'squeeze' us into a little room. The beds were extremely narrow with mattresses like cardboard but we survived to laugh about it all.

We enjoyed many wonderful hikes around the British countryside 

and were undaunted by the occasional 'stile' which separated farmers' fields.

Another time in Exeter we found a bed and breakfast and then went out to look for a meal.  We located a pub but they did not serve meals.  The publican directed us to a 'Wimpy's (McDonalds) type establishment where we purchased a so-called hamburger and chips which we carried back to the pub.  While we were seated in front of a cosy fire, another couple arrived in search of a meal - so we shared our bountiful chips with them. When we finally returned to our lodgings and climbed into bed, we discovered a lovely hot stone pig (hot water bottle) nestled under the sheets.  

On another visit to England we stayed with our old dears, Nellie and Edna, about whom I have previously written in this blog (see 'Innocents Abroad').  Nellie and Edna were the 'salt of the earth'.  These elderly sisters had never married and were extremely innocent.  One morning Ken entered the bathroom only to be engulfed in steam from which Edna emerged, swaddled in a dressing gown.  'Oh, Kenneth!' she tittered and fled past him.  On another occasion Ken was soaking in the bathtub when Edna suddenly entered the bathroom, a plumber in tow, and asked if Ken would mind if the man took a look at the sink taps?

Just a few of our many fond memories of touring around Britain.

AWAY AND HOME AGAIN - THE HIGH SEAS

Ken and I traveled a great deal when we were somewhat younger. One of our most interesting adventures was a cruise through the Panama Canal on the cruise ship 'Oriana'.

When we left Vancouver, all was fine: fond farewells, laughter, streamers and whistles.  However, the passage to San Francisco was rough and I awoke feeling nauseated. I approached the dining room with trepidation, only to be greeted by the Captain, smacking his lips over a large plate of kippers! (For some reason  we were chosen to sit at the Captain's table, along with Googie Withers, a well-known old time British movie star, who usually floated in at the last minute, draped in a voluminous caftan). Well, I caught one whiff of those kippers and made a hasty exit.  A conveniently placed large potted plant received some extra 'nourishment' that morning.

We had delightful waiters (from Goa) and our particular waiter insisted on spooning brown sugar onto Ken's porridge each morning, a service that made Ken feel so uncomfortable that he finally explained to the fellow that he would rather do it himself.

We spent three weeks on the Oriana, waited upon as though we were all movie stars.  We didn't have to worry about where we were going to sleep, what we were going to eat, transportation or luggage.  Each morning a cup of tea and the ship's newspaper (complete with Canadian hockey scores as requested by Ken) were delivered to our stateroom.

This was our first experience with cruising, but not our last!

SOMETIMES STATISTICS ARE VITAL

I usually ignore requests to complete surveys but when the Bureau of Vital Statistics phoned us, I decided to cooperate!

What an interesting half hour it turned out to be.  As it happened, Ken and I had just finished lunch and were enjoying a cup of tea.  The fellow on our speaker phone had a clear, melodious voice as well as a charming manner.  Of the two of us seniors, I was chosen to participate.  All the questions were to do with health and welfare.  I happen to be blessed with extremely good genes and health and possess a keen sense of humor.  The fact that I am coming up 90 and take no drugs seemed to really amaze the interviewer.  

All his questions re illnesses were answered with a firm 'no' - did I have asthma, high blood pressure, heart trouble, diabetes, etc.? I had to admit I have arthritis in both knees, a 'dowagers hump' and an ileostomy. Could I see and hear well? 'yes' What kind of food did we eat? What kind of activities? 

One question was regarding my ethnic background.  I replied that both my parents were British but that I was born in an Indian village on the Naas River in northern BC and my paternal grandfather was the first 'white' missionary in that area.  That information intrigued the interviewer because he was himself familiar with the territory.

He asked if Ken or I took street drugs (!) which brought an emphatic 'no' and a laugh.  Then the crucial inquiry - did we drink alcohol? I answered truthfully that we had one, or maybe two glasses of wine every afternoon.  Well, we had a laugh over that and then, me being me, I said "I thought you were going to ask how many times a week we have sex" Well, the young man thought that was hilarious and we finished the interview on a very warm note.

I told him one of my activities is writing a blog.  Bless his heart, he wanted to know how he could read my blog as he felt it would be entertaining!

The interview made our day and seemed to make his day, too. It wasn't the usual run-of-the-mill survey.

It just shows how an ordinary day can have an unexpected bright moment.

Shelbourne Plaza - Part Two

I well remember the objections when a liquor store was proposed.  A petition was circulated by angry and apprehensive neighboring families, who envisioned drunks opening bottles in front of the premises.  Evidently the petition was successful and the liquor store was put on the back burner for a few years.  In its place sprung up the Club Soho, where, if one obtained a permit, liquor could be consumed on the premises.  

On February 29, 1964, a reunion was held at the Soho (located roughly where the Bank of Nova Scotia now stands). It was a gala affair, reuniting the old Cadboro Bay gang that used to gather together in the late 1930s.  More than 200 people turned out, some from afar, and danced to the tunes of the 1940s, played by the Mayfair orchestra.

Club Soho folded and Cablevision moved into the premises on June 3, 1967.  A disastrous fire occurred in February 1968 destroying all but a few files.  Before the firemen had finished cleaning up, cable was back on the air, from the basement of John Foss' home at the corner of Kingsberry and Richmond, utilizing parts scrounged from maintenance trucks.  Within ten months of the fire, they set up business in their new location.

The Bank of Nova Scotia has been with the Plaza since 1961, and, after the Cablevision fire, the bank expanded in that direction.  In later years, when Jennings Florist relocated to the Cedar Hill Mall, the bank spread its wings once again and absorbed that section.

In 1974 the long awaited liquor store, like the last piece of a jig-saw puzzle, dropped into place.  Many will recall that it filled the space that once was a convenient shortcut through to Poplar Street.

Louis Copens, the jeweler, has expanded his premises and now has a dazzling display of fancy clocks and sparkling glassware as well as his jewelery.  He mentioned that the cost of becoming engaged to your chosen one has tripled. His shop has experienced a couple of break-ins and one smash and grab.

A family business that has survived these many years is the A & L Bakery.  I asked Lyle and Rose Sauter where the name of the bakery originated.  Lyle said his original partner was Alf Harris, so they just took the first letters of their two names.  Many years ago he used to operate a bakery in Barkerville called the Goldfield.  When he opened the A & L in 1960, bread was 16 cents a loaf - the same loaf today is 73 cents.  Donuts used to be 50 cents a dozen, now they are $3 a dozen.

Teenagers who worked for them now have teenagers of their own.  The Sauter children all worked in the bakery over the years and one son, Rick, is a permanent staff member. Another son, Lawrence, works part-time for his parents while attending Camosun College.

The original operator of the barber shop was Harvey Bolton. Since then, Vic Wilk who ran it for eight years, has retired and his two sons have taken over the reins.

The fish and chip restaurant has had several owners and is now managed by Scotsman Dave Gray and his wife Sandra. It is a very popular spot and frequented faithfully by the other merchants.

Peg's Delicatessen and Tom's House of Pizza have been with us for many years.

The bicycle shop is a favorite haunt of the kids, eyeing the latest in the bicycle world, however tragedy struck our plaza on Oct 24, 1969 when Fred and Merle Owens, who originally operated this sports shop, were killed in an auto accident on the Patricia Bay Highway.

Many little businesses have come and gone over the years and in 1982 only three of the original owners remain - the jeweler, the baker and the beauty salon.

My husband and I can remember when the whole area of the plaza was occupied by the Ellis dairy farm.  

In Spring 2014, the Plaza parking lot was refurbished. Bowker Creek lies buried beneath the blacktop and only a tell-tale reinforced path known to the old-timers gives that secret away.