Letters from a Girl

Letters from 5 generations

Do you remember how exciting it used to be when a bundle of letters plopped through the letterbox?

My mother was a prolific letter writer, so was my father.   They had friends and family scattered around the world, so it was a rare day when the postman didn't deliver a bundle of personal letters.

I have some small boxes of them, including one letter from my maternal great grandmother, grandma and her sister, my mother and her sister and lots which my father and mother wrote to each other.

Some of the letters were written by me, to my parents, along with those from my (young) children to my parents.   

Now I am able to add another layer, the first few of many, I hope.

My 8 year old granddaughter has been getting a bit worried about corona virus; too much talk at school, snippets she may see on the news, etc.   I decided that she needed a distraction.

Letter writing.   It sounds boring, but she has jumped straight in and is really enjoying herself.  Every day she writes a couple of letters to me, and I write back to her.   I use purple ink (her favourite colour) and make sure that I use pretty stationery, or attractive postcards.  Sometimes I use an envelope, other times I turn the letter into a self-folding envelope.   Little things, but it keeps it fresh.

I am very impressed with the way she has responded to it all, her letters are a delight to read and I have been told that she still gets a thrill out of every new letter I send her.

Do you still write letters by hand?

To Mary Blick Best, 1820, with love from her husband.

This example of penmanship is just one page among many in one of my most treasured books.  

It is a Commonplace Book written by R Best, for his wife Mary.   My book is volume 3, alas I don't have volume 1 or 2.   I bought the book at auction, many years ago, and have loved it ever since.

Whenever I come across a book like this, (handwritten and named) I cannot help but wonder about why it is not still with the family.   Of course the family may have died out, the end of the line reached, but it can't always be the case.      I love the book, the handwriting, the contents, and especially the fact that it was all dedicated to his wife, but it should still be with the family.

R Best - I can't find his Christian name - was a commercial traveller, so he was away from home a lot.      There are business cards from Commercial Inns, a black edged envelope, card and letter written to inform him of the death of an old friend and the date of the funeral...postal delivery was much speedier in those days!

He was fond of lines like this:

You tell old Hugh, to hew the yew
To mask the Ewe with deepest hew...

and

Thomas Wright
Cannot write
All the Rites
Of the Church; Right.

and

Let a pair
Pare a pear
For a peer
At the pier


and he wrote lots epitaphs copied from gravestones, some dating back to the 1600's.      No doubt many of them have been obliterated by time,  while others will have been moved from their original location and placed around the edge of a churchyard, in order to make maintenance easier, or because Health & Safety have deemed them to be a danger.  

So much valuable information in one little book, I doubt he realised just how much it would be cherished by one strange  woman, almost 200 years later!



Another entry:

Lines on a Shaving cloth at the Victoria Hotel, Newport, Shropshire:

Should you, kind sir, incline to shave
A favour from your hands I crave
Which would accommodate us both
Pray wipe your razor on this cloth.
The chambermaid.



The book is filled with entries, but rather than ramble on too long,  I'll share some more another time.
fliss&max

Rainy Day Baking and Little Gems

Today began with heavy rain so the dog and I got drenched - but I am very happy about that.

Ever since Dobson came to live with us he has shown a marked reluctance to venture anywhere in the rain, even if he is desperate, he would rather cross his legs and wait until it stops raining.   I have never forced him out in the rain, but I have tried to encourage him, with little success.  

So I was delighted that today he agreed to come out into the pouring rain, for a morning walk.    He actually enjoyed it!   He didn't melt away and he found that smells are just as good in the rain.   Success after two and a half years of gentle persuasion.

Just as well I'm patient.

This handsome boy, Benedict, on the other hand, can usually be found standing out in the rain.   For some strange reason he seems to really enjoy it.     He has a shelter, he just won't use it.


The rain dried up but the day continued to be damp, gloomy, windy.    Our internet connection goes crazy on days like this (the overhead cables run through woodland trees and they need trimming) so the connection drifted in and out.   I gave up trying to read, or respond to, email, etc.

Instead, I made a cup of tea and browsed my recipe books instead.    

Christmas cake is what I wanted to get started, they always improve with keeping and steeping in alcohol.     I also like to soak the fruit in alcohol for a couple of days before mixing and baking and each year I try a different recipe.

This bowl is HUGE, there is something like 5lbs of fruit soaking in it!

I finally plumped for a recipe from my mother's old handwritten recipe book.  

Oddly enough, I have never noticed this one before, but part of the appeal was that the quantities are enough for a 9 inch cake, plus a 6 inch cake.   Perfect!    I always make two cakes, one for Max and the family and another for my younger brother, The Writer.

The recipe book was originally a diary and the first few pages still contain entries from January 1st 1962.    My mothers handwriting quickly transported me back to my 8 year old self, when we were living in Hong Kong.

The entry for 4th January 1962 reads "Jimmy Wong came round this afternoon.   Harry bought me a beautiful firestone and gold ring and I bought the matching earrings."

Here they are.  

I inherited them when my mother died, twenty years ago.    I am not a great one for jewellery, but I do enjoy wearing the pieces which my mother left me and these 'firestones' are truly beautiful.

In morning light they appear a pale blue, then as the day progresses they gradually darken and change to violet and on until they become a rich red wine colour.  Magical!

Jimmy Wong was a Chinese man who used to call around once a month.   He would bring a huge assortment of ready made jewellery and loose stones.    His smooth sales patter often tempted my mother into purchasing something!     One could ask for any stone, any setting or arrangement and a week or two later it would be delivered for inspection.  

So my mother was very much to the forefront of my mind as I set about weighing the fruit, halving cherries, etc.  

She was a wonderful cook, nothing fazed her and everything turned out tasting delicious.    Her big flaw was that she used almost every pot and pan in the house while she cooked.  The kitchen would always look like a bomb had hit it.

I work very tidily and I am a rubbish cook.   Any successes which I have are purely accidental and therefore unrepeatable!   I have a nice, tidy kitchen though.   ;-)

fliss&max