18 May 1992
Dear Candy,
Thanks
as always for your always enjoyable letter.
The
weather here is warm. We have now had a
stretch of very good days, getting up into the mid 70's during the day, with
low clouds in the morning that burn off.
It reminds me of So California, though it is colder in the evenings and
mornings. We have even turned off the
heat. The days are very long, sunrise at
five, the day begins to lighten around four.
Sunset at just about nine o'clock.
At ten it is not yet really dark.
The leaves have just about filled the trees, and the procession of
blooming flowers, which began in February, continues. Right now the peak flowers are the white and
light and dark purple lilacs, the magnificent horse chestnuts with their
"candles" of lovely white flowers all over the big trees, and, most
spectacular of all, yellow fields, seas, really, of bright, solid, lemony
yellow: oil seed rape (used for soap and livestock feed). (It does stink a bit if you are near a field,
something like Roquefort, but the color makes up.) Bluebells are everywhere, as are daisies in
the grass, plus a various assortment of blooming plants: fruit trees,
hawthorns, gorse, candy tuft. The roses
have not yet bloomed. The swifts, like
small black swallows, which we last saw in August, have returned. They whistle and swirl in the evening air,
like flies almost, but, rather, I suspect, in search of flies. Cathy feels the effect of spring allergies
more than me. On Saturday walking around
Cambridge on a warm day with a cooling breeze in the air I suddenly realized
what all the fuss is about in May.
Spring in its loveliest!
I
gave my ankle a really good twist sideways, when I went running with the boys
last Sunday and fell into a pot hole (at two minutes into the run!). Jeffrey said I would have to walk it
off. If it didn't get better at Audley
End (1 mile), I would have to jog to Great Chesterford (5 miles), if not, then
Cambridge (12 miles). Slave driver! Robert has a more complicated mind. I had cleverly rolled into a somersault when
I went down so as to take my weight off of my leg and break my fall. Robert was most worried about this aspect of
my fall. Remembering all the times Cathy
has told the children: "If you
don't pick up these leggos I'm going to trip and break my neck!", Robert
believed that my somersault was an actual example of a grown up falling over
something trivial and breaking his neck!
(And thus why leggos should be picked up.) In any event, I limped painfully to Audley
End, where we were able to have a pot of tea and wait out a rainstorm and,
thankfully, call Cathy to pick us up.
I
am still not quite recovered, and a little bit of a limp remains, but it gets
better every day so I am not worried.
Despite my gimp leg, I strapped on my ace bandage and Cathy and I went
into London on Wednesday (13th) and took the walking tour of Hampstead. Our guide was an (ex) actress, lovely, in her
60's. Stopped by her flat on the walk to
give hubby (still in his bathrobe) the crossword at 11! Magda had stories on about 100 personalities
(I didn't count to verify). The day was
brilliant. Hampstead is Cathy's new
favorite spot in London, very quiet and village-y, home to the rich and famous. Lot of literary types, including Keats, H. G.
Wells, and D. H. Lawrence. We saw John
LeCarre's house. Constable (artist)
lived there, as did Richard and Liz (their first house together). We stopped in front of Jeremy Irons little
house. Ringo Starr and members of Who
also had houses.
After
lunch we stopped by Parliament Hill for a panoramic view of the entire London
skyline, from east to west, beneath a big blue sky and even a hint of pollution
in the air as if to prove it is a real city.
There was a crowd too, sitting on benches, lying on the grass. Mothers and babies, kite fliers, bobbies on
horse back, kids playing. A rather
unfortunate number of pink fleshed men with their shirts off. No matter that the weather is often like So.
California, spot one of those bodies and you know exactly where you are!
This
week is busy. Tonight (Monday) and
Wednesday, Robert and Jeffrey are in the school concert. Cathy went tonight, I'll probably go
Wednesday. Robert's cricket game is on
Wednesday. (He made the team, but only
as a scorer. Still he is happy.) Thursday, we are off to London. We will miss Pat and John! but force
ourselves to enjoy the company of Sara Gordon, who you may remember helped us
out with immigration last year, but is now "redundant" (English: laid
off), and has by chance a rather loose schedule, as she says. We are off to see the Rembrandt exhibition
and "Death and the Maiden" (Best Drama this year), as well as the
Chelsea Flower Show. It is a heavy dose
of culture, but there are bars at the art museum, bars at the theater and bars
I suspect at the flower show. The
English are very civilized, you know!
Big
news here last week was a toss up between the bankruptcy of Olympia and York in
US and Canada (they own Canary Wharf, which is a huge new development in
London, with the tallest building in Europe) and the two speeches given to the
members of the European Community, one by the Queen and one by Mrs.
Thatcher. They both wore blue, but no
other similarities. Mrs. Thatcher sounds
almost like Winston Churchill in the 20's when she talks about the threat of Germany
(more economic than military now). Hard
to tell whether she is on target or she has missed the boat. It is fun however to see a politician give
her candid opinions, whether you like them or not. Very rare, here or home. (The real news here, however, is whether
Fergie's return to England is a real reconciliation or just show, and, with all
those pictures of the lovely Princess Di, standing all alone before the
pyramids (last year she was all by her lonesome at the Taj Mahal in India), why
is her husband, Prince Charles off on an archeological dig? Does he really have girl friends? [Doesn't
seem the type if you ask me.])
USA
always in the news. More and more on
Perot. Bits and pieces on LA. We even prayed in church for the US in light
of the retrial of the one policeman!
What must they really think of America!
FYI: in noticing how many people over here say "America" in
referring to the US; I also see how we at home often say "England"
when we often mean Britain. (They say
big part and mean smaller piece, we say piece and mean big part.) People over here are shocked and amazed by
the verdict in the R. King case. In the
process of feeling ashamed of being a representative of the American legal
system, however, I give you this: since
we have been here, I would say that about ten people have been let out of jail
because the appeals court determined that the original conviction was in error,
usually because the police did not give the defence all the evidence. Most recently, Judith Ward, who was
confessing to any crime she could think of at the time, was freed after 18
years in jail for an IRA attack on a bus of soldiers and families. The reporter commented that, at the time,
passions were so roused by the IRA killings (the bus and others) a jury would
have convicted anyone proposed as an IRA bomber. This is the same as King verdict! Instead of the English jury which would have
convicted anyone, the all suburban Simi Valley jury wouldn't have convicted any
policeman for beating up a black man who appeared to threaten police
order. So, in spite of all the shock at
LA justice, things really aren't that much different.
I
went to the travel agent and told the agent to book us seats to Kennedy on the
28th of July, that would put us home around 8th of August. Me at work about 10th.
Cathy
refuses to allow me to choose any materials or furniture, etc. for my new
office without her looking it over, so if it is all right, I would like to wait
until I get home, recognizing the delays with ordering.
My
book was rejected, nicely. I am working
on a novel, mystery type, hoping I can slap something together about Las
Vegas. My character is Walter Briggs,
and his secretary's name is Carla (motherly type, sorry). Small firm, ten lawyers, Beth his paralegal,
Larry McCullers his associate. His big
client is a Palace Station type casino.
He has a good looking blond girlfriend, Jill, from Santa Fe. They can't decide what to do. Walt's friend, Jimmy is missing. There's some shenanigans going on which I
can't fully describe because they haven't been decided yet! I'm trying to work on a play about angels
visiting a modern day family. Today I
worked on a story. So I do little and
little. Enjoying it still, as you might
suspect!
Hello
to all!
 |
| At the Chelsea Flower Show |
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