Letter 17
25/01/23 14:29
My Dearest Bunty,
Back home at last! Sir Hector tells me he wrote to you the other day telling of my misfortune and admission to the hospital. I must say it is most embarrassing for me to be under the doctor these days as I pride myself in only two pervious admissions, both to the maternity wards in Edinburgh at the Pavilion, which I understand is no longer with us. What a wonderful environment to bring forth a new life. Of course in those days the men folk were discouraged from attending, unlike today, and I must say that those days of confinement were relaxing to say the least. These days I can tell you that hospital visits are not restful, it is blood pressure this, blood test that and I am sure I am punctured all over. I hope I never have to attend the hospital again; I am a dreadful patient I know. My consultant was NHS, as there is no private wing in the cottage hospital I fear, but despite this and his obvious youth, he was gallant and told me exactly what was wrong. Can you believe I was knocked for six by gout caused by Brazil nuts? Whatever next! Not even the decency to say it was too many game pies and port, no, floored by a nut! I have to avoid them all, not even my favourite Chocolate Brazils from Cadbury's. I feel as if a special part of me has gone...
Since my discharge from hospital I have been fairly busy. The advertisement in the Labour Exchange, or Job Centre Plus or whatever it is called these days, has proved fruitful and we have had several responses. I have interviewed some of the candidates, all with excellent references and I think I shall be choosing. Gone are the days of an ample bosomed cook I am afraid, as each applicant was as thin as a rake. I shall have to ensure that Sir H and I are not put on diets in secret! The offer to the new cook went out in the post last night. She is from Frazerburgh and very competent having worked in hotels down South and in some quality homes in Grosvenor Square in London. She comes highly recommended and I am looking forward to her taking up the challenge. She is in her mid thirties and divorced, but no children and will be living in the House, just as Dear Cook did. There will be an overlap of a week before Cook leaves for the South Coast. I am sure she will hate it with all those old people wandering about the streets and in the summer I believe it can be far too busy. No place that a political party would use for a conference is my ideal retirement destination! All those wet politicians going about with clipboards and exuberant youthful members out in nightclubs. I am so glad that my two darlings have remained far from political life. I could not contemplate either of them becoming politically active as our local Unionist candidate last time was decidedly influenced by Thatcherism and not the 'One Nation' that Daddy approved of. Still, we are relatively pleased with our local Nationalist MP and MSP who do some great work for the coastal peoples, but very little for us landowners. Still it is a modern thing and I am sure that Edinburgh will turn its attention towards us soon enough and see what an economic asset to the country large estates can be. We are big employers in the area you know, if only seasonally.
January is almost over and the plans for the end of the month Burn's Supper still are not finalised. New Cook will have to deal with that but to be on the safe side I shall order some haggis from MacSweens of Edinburgh which are delicious accompanied by our home grown turnips and potatoes. The harvest this year has been poor and there is still no sign of frost to sweeten up the root vegetables, but we shall make do!
Sorry to hear that your Countess is under the weather again, I think she may be on the Last Journey from what I read between the lines in your Get Well Soon card. Best start looking for another job, dearest. You do not want to be caught on the hop as happened the last time when you were on the streets with your baggage!
Yours as always, Flora
This story first appeared on www.panetwork.co.uk in 2004
Back home at last! Sir Hector tells me he wrote to you the other day telling of my misfortune and admission to the hospital. I must say it is most embarrassing for me to be under the doctor these days as I pride myself in only two pervious admissions, both to the maternity wards in Edinburgh at the Pavilion, which I understand is no longer with us. What a wonderful environment to bring forth a new life. Of course in those days the men folk were discouraged from attending, unlike today, and I must say that those days of confinement were relaxing to say the least. These days I can tell you that hospital visits are not restful, it is blood pressure this, blood test that and I am sure I am punctured all over. I hope I never have to attend the hospital again; I am a dreadful patient I know. My consultant was NHS, as there is no private wing in the cottage hospital I fear, but despite this and his obvious youth, he was gallant and told me exactly what was wrong. Can you believe I was knocked for six by gout caused by Brazil nuts? Whatever next! Not even the decency to say it was too many game pies and port, no, floored by a nut! I have to avoid them all, not even my favourite Chocolate Brazils from Cadbury's. I feel as if a special part of me has gone...
Since my discharge from hospital I have been fairly busy. The advertisement in the Labour Exchange, or Job Centre Plus or whatever it is called these days, has proved fruitful and we have had several responses. I have interviewed some of the candidates, all with excellent references and I think I shall be choosing. Gone are the days of an ample bosomed cook I am afraid, as each applicant was as thin as a rake. I shall have to ensure that Sir H and I are not put on diets in secret! The offer to the new cook went out in the post last night. She is from Frazerburgh and very competent having worked in hotels down South and in some quality homes in Grosvenor Square in London. She comes highly recommended and I am looking forward to her taking up the challenge. She is in her mid thirties and divorced, but no children and will be living in the House, just as Dear Cook did. There will be an overlap of a week before Cook leaves for the South Coast. I am sure she will hate it with all those old people wandering about the streets and in the summer I believe it can be far too busy. No place that a political party would use for a conference is my ideal retirement destination! All those wet politicians going about with clipboards and exuberant youthful members out in nightclubs. I am so glad that my two darlings have remained far from political life. I could not contemplate either of them becoming politically active as our local Unionist candidate last time was decidedly influenced by Thatcherism and not the 'One Nation' that Daddy approved of. Still, we are relatively pleased with our local Nationalist MP and MSP who do some great work for the coastal peoples, but very little for us landowners. Still it is a modern thing and I am sure that Edinburgh will turn its attention towards us soon enough and see what an economic asset to the country large estates can be. We are big employers in the area you know, if only seasonally.
January is almost over and the plans for the end of the month Burn's Supper still are not finalised. New Cook will have to deal with that but to be on the safe side I shall order some haggis from MacSweens of Edinburgh which are delicious accompanied by our home grown turnips and potatoes. The harvest this year has been poor and there is still no sign of frost to sweeten up the root vegetables, but we shall make do!
Sorry to hear that your Countess is under the weather again, I think she may be on the Last Journey from what I read between the lines in your Get Well Soon card. Best start looking for another job, dearest. You do not want to be caught on the hop as happened the last time when you were on the streets with your baggage!
Yours as always, Flora
This story first appeared on www.panetwork.co.uk in 2004