Letter 20
11/02/23 14:29
My Dearest Bunty,
I have to say that this letter comes from the heart and I am feeling down in the dumps at the moment. This could be a cross between the long winter we are having (even though it has been mild so far) and the lack of invitations following our snubbing at Burns Night. I have been gracious enough to say I have forgiven them all for not inviting me, but I cannot forgive no invitations to Sir Hector himself. He has taken to over smoking that old Churchwarden of his. It was bad enough in the Silk Drawing Room but now he has taken to smoking it next to a peat fire in the Library almost first thing in the morning. I can see this has been a shock to him. Still I shall endeavour to snap him out of this as it will soon be time for the Spring Planting and preparations of the flower garden in time for the influx of summer visitors and that should keep his mind off that Dark January Day. I have busied myself with ideas for whom to employ from the local village to man (or woman) the various seasonal positions in the Estate this year. I have my favourites as always but I fear that some of the older ones are getting on a bit and I expect that if I do not get over my reticence in employing some of the local youngsters soon then there will be no pool of labour to fish! I have decided not to put an advertisement in the Labour Exchange window this year but will go on word of mouth. Dear Cook has left me copious notes on the history and lineage of some of the local slightly-better families and I am sure some son or daughter will leap at the chance of coming to work for me in the Big House!
Dear Cook telephoned last week to say she has settled down with her relatives and is looking forward to taking her time in exploring the South Coast of England. It sounded to me as if she was getting homesick for the Estate but I am sure that was just crackling on the line. Did I tell you that the Estate is adding its voice to the call for upgrading the telephone exchange to enable broadband to be provided? I was and still am against this for the villagers, as I cannot see any good coming out of their access being speeded up on the internet. I read in the Press and Journal, not bought by me but was left in the doctor's surgery when I went to collect my own prescription last week, that the Western Isles are to be the testing ground for a wireless network for local communities. It will be nice to see that old fashioned word 'wireless' coming back into use as I hated when we stopped using it and moved to 'transistor' and 'tranny' although I am well aware of the slang and common usage of the latter abbreviation. I am a woman of the world, and of BBC Choice before it became BBC3 on the digital television. How I used to secretly love those saucy shows late at night with my cocoa and a Flake to dip in it, laughing at those little fifteen minute sketches of that dreadful common prostitute, 'Terry McIntyre' and her dysfunctional friends and family. Glasgow is such a dreadful place if it is filled with lots of those young strumpets with pulled back hair and fake tan that only reaches the base of their necks. How dear Glasgow is often in my thoughts these days, turning into a futuristic city with all that aluminium and glass along the Clydeside - quite breathtaking on my last trip there, and to see that at last the place where that old con-man Sir Hugh had his drapery has been turned into something nice. Who would have thought that a nice family man like him would have been a ladies man and rogue to boot? I was quite taken aback with the scandals about him and although I secretly admired him when we were young, a Gentleman in Trade is still in Trade and not one to waste too much time on, especially being associated so clearly with the Clan and the House as I was to be. I am glad I set my sights on Sir H and gripped on tightly!
Yours as always, Flora
This story first appeared on www.panetwork.co.uk in 2005
I have to say that this letter comes from the heart and I am feeling down in the dumps at the moment. This could be a cross between the long winter we are having (even though it has been mild so far) and the lack of invitations following our snubbing at Burns Night. I have been gracious enough to say I have forgiven them all for not inviting me, but I cannot forgive no invitations to Sir Hector himself. He has taken to over smoking that old Churchwarden of his. It was bad enough in the Silk Drawing Room but now he has taken to smoking it next to a peat fire in the Library almost first thing in the morning. I can see this has been a shock to him. Still I shall endeavour to snap him out of this as it will soon be time for the Spring Planting and preparations of the flower garden in time for the influx of summer visitors and that should keep his mind off that Dark January Day. I have busied myself with ideas for whom to employ from the local village to man (or woman) the various seasonal positions in the Estate this year. I have my favourites as always but I fear that some of the older ones are getting on a bit and I expect that if I do not get over my reticence in employing some of the local youngsters soon then there will be no pool of labour to fish! I have decided not to put an advertisement in the Labour Exchange window this year but will go on word of mouth. Dear Cook has left me copious notes on the history and lineage of some of the local slightly-better families and I am sure some son or daughter will leap at the chance of coming to work for me in the Big House!
Dear Cook telephoned last week to say she has settled down with her relatives and is looking forward to taking her time in exploring the South Coast of England. It sounded to me as if she was getting homesick for the Estate but I am sure that was just crackling on the line. Did I tell you that the Estate is adding its voice to the call for upgrading the telephone exchange to enable broadband to be provided? I was and still am against this for the villagers, as I cannot see any good coming out of their access being speeded up on the internet. I read in the Press and Journal, not bought by me but was left in the doctor's surgery when I went to collect my own prescription last week, that the Western Isles are to be the testing ground for a wireless network for local communities. It will be nice to see that old fashioned word 'wireless' coming back into use as I hated when we stopped using it and moved to 'transistor' and 'tranny' although I am well aware of the slang and common usage of the latter abbreviation. I am a woman of the world, and of BBC Choice before it became BBC3 on the digital television. How I used to secretly love those saucy shows late at night with my cocoa and a Flake to dip in it, laughing at those little fifteen minute sketches of that dreadful common prostitute, 'Terry McIntyre' and her dysfunctional friends and family. Glasgow is such a dreadful place if it is filled with lots of those young strumpets with pulled back hair and fake tan that only reaches the base of their necks. How dear Glasgow is often in my thoughts these days, turning into a futuristic city with all that aluminium and glass along the Clydeside - quite breathtaking on my last trip there, and to see that at last the place where that old con-man Sir Hugh had his drapery has been turned into something nice. Who would have thought that a nice family man like him would have been a ladies man and rogue to boot? I was quite taken aback with the scandals about him and although I secretly admired him when we were young, a Gentleman in Trade is still in Trade and not one to waste too much time on, especially being associated so clearly with the Clan and the House as I was to be. I am glad I set my sights on Sir H and gripped on tightly!
Yours as always, Flora
This story first appeared on www.panetwork.co.uk in 2005