On Saturday (I had my dates mixed) we drove to Sutton Coldfield (peculiar name!) through the Welsh mountains. The views were magnificent & we took a few pictures. We met some awful traffic jams – cars waiting for miles back while the crossroads in the tiny villages got stopped up. Of course it is the weekend, that probably accounts for it. We met Auntie Dottie and Tim (whom I think is a poisonous little brat, spoilt) and the cat Pooh (wild a bit, but he lay on my lap.) After tea we met Peter and his fiancée Val Hurst. She’s the one who designs rings. She is petite, a shoulder length blonde, vivacious and drinks more beer than I have ever seen Daddy. At supper we met Richard (I have his room & like his taste in books) and Uncle Ken. I like them all. Later we met Jim and his girlfriend Gill. She is dark and pretty and rather quiet and she wears contact lenses. I can’t decide who I like better – Gill or Val. Daddy obviously likes Val better, you should see him jump up to light her cigarettes. By the way, Auntie Dottie smokes cigars! Little thin ones but really!
The next day Charlie & I & Tim went for a walk in the park. One of these woody overgrown ones. We walked for miles! I got absolutely exhausted and we still hadn’t turned around. Finally we got fed up & turned around and he walked us all the way back. It rained off & on. I do not like that child!
In the evening we went to Grace & Bob Speller’s for drinks – quite nice & Daddy talked to John & his wife who are coming to Canada I think.
On Monday we went to Stratford upon Avon, stopping off at Warwick Castle on the way. It marvellous – after the ruins it was nice to see one intact & well cared for. The most marvellous things in it were the portraits. Henry the eighth & Elizabeth & Henry VIII as a boy (sweet) and Charles I and Queen Henrietta Maria. There were lovely tapestries of faery woods with princesses & bears and heroes in. One room had Marie Antoinette’s bed in it and my favourite thing in the castle – Marie Antoinette’s clock. The clock was flat iron – sort of like a sundial with Roman numerals traced on & lines & delicate iron hands. And on the points of the hours coming out from the middle were the Twelve Stations of the Cross in little medallions of red and white china. The whole thing was so delicate and somehow like Marie Antoinette, poor thing.
Stratford definitely disappointed me, I think the Ontario one is much nicer. Of course this one is the real thing, though. However I enjoyed seeing the relics of Shakespeare’s life, we saw all the houses of he & his children except Anne Hathaway’s cottage which was too far to walk. It was so hot that we couldn’t do much. The outside of the theatre was horrible but the inside was lovely & ‘All’s Well that Ends Well’ was lovely too. Back to Dottie’s for bed.
Today (Tues.) bid a mournful goodbye to Auntie Dottie & Uncle Ken (who are very nice & he has lovely books in the attic including two Scarlet Pimpernels which he lent me and three lovely Dornford Yates which I read all but 1/2 the last and it was too precious to take away! Boo-hoo!) and a cheerful one to Tim and set off for Oxford. We stopped on the way at Jean’s and met her in person and her husband Peter & Patsy who are very nice. [Cyn’s Hazell cousins.] They have a lovely garden. I would have liked to have met Patsy’s son. I saw a picture of him.
A Family History in Letters 