It’s only three days until Snowdrops season when we at Chatterley open our doors (reluctantly) to the great unwashed. While there are many things that I enjoy about opening the house and gardens, little ones gamboling on the lawn, the ker-ching of the cash register, I cannot BEAR the general public.
It’s not the smell of cheap perfume and violence. No, it’s their absolute insistence on decimating our language; the dropped aitches, the split infinitives, the swearing. But that is not the worst of it. The youth’s insistence of speaking in sub Jamaican patois really greases my wicket. It’s as if everyone under 18 is trying to adopt the style and attitude of mixed race teenagers on a South London housing estate. How very queer! Everyone I’ve ever met from rough inner city life have been trying to escape. A perfect example: Early in the last decade, Asher D, Oxide, Neutrino and other assorted members of the So Solid Crew came to visit Chatterley. They were all fascinated by the Tudor period and we spent a lovely weekend making mead and performing the lesser known plays of Congreve. Asher D rounded of the weekend with selected readings from Wychwood’s translation of the Aeneid. It was marvelous fun and just shows how motivated poor people can be.If you believe, like I do, that to be born British is to win life’s lottery then please, for the love cream teas and old school ties, stop braxing our mutha-tongue. Getme bredren?
I do hope so.
Yours,
J x
Oh Dear Jennifer!
When I showed this latest blog of yours to my wonderful old oriental friend ‘Poppy’ she immediately retorted: “That Jennifer person would do well to take a leaf out of your book old girl, what?!”
My goodness! For the longest moment there was startled silence on my part and I just gazed at her in disbelief. I suspect darling little Poppy was thinking she’d finally given me a stroke — and she even started to summon The Commander (which is ridiculous,really, since my hushand would be totally useless in such a circumstance!).
“Whatever are you talking about?” I asked finally,mightily irritated by her apparent disrespect toward you. I was also thinking that even a long-standing companion such as Poppy ought to explain such a bold position without my having to prompt her! “And YOU of all people should never use phrases like ‘That Jennifer person’ for someone of her rank and seniority — and must you call me ‘old girl’ — after all, despite several brow-lifts you are still, in reality, older than I am??!” So there! Her impertinence was really stating to get my goat when The Commander burst in to enquire what all the racket was about. Naturally, we both went silent and pretended it was nothing because — if nothing else– we’ve learned after 40-odd years as ‘joint chatelaines by default’ my husband will never tolerate the slightest hint of discord in his house amongst the women-folk.
Well, it just reminded me of all those years ago when I first met Poppy. The Commander, who always had a weakness for the exotic (and the inappropriate), had rescued Poppy when the authorities in Singapore were having one of their major crackdowns on the Ladyboy prostitutes of Bugis Street. He was quite heroic then, my dear husband! Always one to take the side of the down-trodden and the underdog. When Poppy arrived here, she(he) could speak no proper form of English, apart from: ‘Fifteen dollar, me love you long time’ and ‘You wife so jealous. She no pretty like Ladyboy’ and a few other classics.
And how Poppy and I used to fight with each other in those early years! That is, until I realised that we could learn an awful lot from each other. So, I set out to teach her to speak English, and God knows I tried my very best to teach her proper manners. She in turn gave me some valuable beauty and fashion tips and has generously tutored me in the more sophisticated oriental lovemaking techniques of the Ladyboys. So, dear WONDEROUS JENNIFER, I suppose the moral of the story is that when we take the time to embrace the poor and the unfortunate, and to tutor them, we can sometimes find ourselves tutored — and make a life-long companion in the bargain!!!
So sorry again for the excessively long message, but hope you will find inspiration in it.
Much respect and admiration,
Flossy
P.S. As much as I love Poppy, I’m still annoyed at her for being disrespectful toward you. Please forgive! Actually, I might send her your way– she is surprisingly resourceful in the garden. I think you would find you have a great deal in common too!