Last Sunday, that is to say just over a week ago, to Polesden Lacey and I thought it would be a bit of a stunt to get the first volume of our copy of Osbert Sitwell's biography signed by all the trusty's, with Osbert being a regular visitor to the place during its hey-day. It has always rather amused me that the heir to a family obsessed with its ancient family line should play sigisbée (or cicisbeo) to the natural daughter and heir to a Glasgow brewer. See reference 5. And with Osbert being a regular visitor to these pages too, as perusal of reference 1 will show. Our first visit since the summer, noticed at reference 2.
The outing started with a sharp bout of rain, but the television had assured us that this done, we were in for a dry day, which indeed was the case. A bout which left the air very clear and we got a couple of two good ones of aeroplanes going down to Heathrow, getting on for twenty miles away. As it turned out, we made the same call as lots of other people.
First stop tea and cinnamon scone (or some such) in the cafeteria. Scone fresh enough but a little bland. Intrigued by the contraption stuck to the table snapped above, clearly something to do with the service. There were also a couple of ladies energetically signing, not something I see terribly often - and energetic enough to give the strong impression that signing was a fully fledged language with rich expressive possibilities - something which some grammarians, fussing about how one signs a future subjunctive, deny.
A reminder that once we used to bash metal in London, not just bank accounts. This being the gate from the stable yard to the grounds of the house proper.
And so on to the second hand book shop in the corner of the main house, which was not busy, to deposit a large carrier bag of books. A little concerned that the main house might be a bit busy for book signings, I thought to make a start with the couple (I think) running the book shop, whom I had thought, as bookies, would to rise to the occasion, but they pulled very long faces and were very doubtful. No instructions from the office on the point. And despite another customer offering to countersign, I had to withdraw with my book unsigned by either of them, my zest for the stunt rather dampened, it not having occurred to me that the trusty's would be so slow on the uptake. And as it turned out, the house was rather busy to be bothering the trusty's there.
Round to the main entrance, to find a couple of trusty's in full between-the-wars gear, one lady and one gent, with the latter in a proper swallow tail coat, and with both of them having gone to a lot of bother, as had most of the trusty's further inside. A collaboration, I believe, with a needlework or dressmaking guild. Quite a lot of the foxes and such like which my fathers' sisters used to wear on holidays in the winter.
One signature from a young trusty, perhaps 20, who explained that her squiggle was for Zoë. We got the impression that there were some salaried people down from HQ to see how the festivities were going, Polesden Lacey being of their bigger pulls in this part of the country. Maybe also some students on work experience or internships (unpaid, of course).
One of those dressed up was a rather younger lady playing the piano in the drawing room, a walnut finished Steinway grand, although I did not like to lean over and check, let alone take a picture, so not a scoring piano. But we did learn that it was the not the original, this last having died of woodworm or something, and the present piano was a gift from a trusty. And clearly walnut Steinway's do exist, despite all the ones in London concert halls being black lacquer. As were, as far as I can recall, most if not all of those in the Steinway Hall in Marylebone Lane. See references 3 and 4.
A couple of copies of Queen Alexandra's Christmas Gift Book lying around. It seemed to be rather an expensively produced thing, with a lot of the pictures pasted in, rather than printed direct onto the paper. As I recall, people and places rather than gifts, but memory a bit vague on that point. I associate to the rather different Christmas gift books noticed at reference 8. See also reference 6.
A couple of jigsaws from the same stable as that noticed at reference 7. Part of the entertainment said to have been laid on for the house guests. Our Exeter puzzle appears to have come from an earlier stage in the life of the series, possibly at No.20, but the numbering at that point seems a bit capricious.
The second and last signature from an enthusiastic lady trusty who told us all about the wonders of the hot water and the central heating, a novelty at the time, a no doubt a big attraction for house guests brought up on cold baths and draughty bedrooms. While a fellow pensioner and I swapped anecdotes about childhood winters when the ice climbed up the inside of the bedroom windows and the milk froze in the bottles at the door, pushing off the foil caps. Perhaps I will try again next year - or perhaps I could make use of our mole there, a long service trusty.
We wondered about the wooden triptychs, not pretty but very old, some of them more than five hundred years old.
Stolled back to the stable yard, passing but not stopping at the coffee bar above: National Trust moves into street food. But I was more interested in the lumps of timber lying about, not obviously the product of a tractor driven, portable saw. Maybe they have something more substantial in the yard.
Fine view down the avenue, down to Heathrow, but did not catch any aeroplanes at this point. Notice shadow of self, bottom middle, trying to hide behind the tree.
Fine display of hellebores just inside the gate noticed above. A bed where they seem to take a bit of trouble, as I am sure we have seen fine displays of foxgloves at the very same spot.
Christmas lunch better than I expected. Turkey not too clever and stuffing poor, with some kind of soft paste having been pushed into the bottom of a cup cake tin, or something of that sort. Gravy adequate, better than the highly flavoured stuff from places like Wetherspoon's. But all redeemed by the high quality of the vegetables, including cabbage, much better than what one can get in much fancier places.
The answer to the first whizmo noticed earlier. You get a second whizmo with your food to put on the first and the young person who brings it has a third whizmo to tell him or her where you are. Not a use of the word that either Bing or Google recognises. Nor OED, although it does recognise various whiz and whizz words. But something else to look out for. See reference 9.
Out to score a quick two from the car park.
On the way home, passed what looked to be a Waitrose trolley on the common between Ashstead and Epsom. I suppose I could have walked it from there, and left BH to drive home but that did not seem very sporting. And it was far to far from home to collect on foot later. So the opportunity was passed up. Will I be cursing if I make it to 199 by Christmas Day? Eight trolleys to be done in seven days at the time of writing. Bit of a long shot. Trip to the big Sainsbury's at North Cheam? Or ASDA at Burgh Heath? Would the rules committee allow it?
Reference 2: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2018/07/windsor-in-sun.html.
Reference 3: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ShOI7bmGI7M.
Reference 4: http://psmv3.blogspot.com/2016/04/visiting-jigsaw.html. The chance visit to the Steinway Hall in Marylebone Lane, towards the end of this post. Having failed to turn it up on Monday, got it at first attempt on the archive on Tuesday. No idea what went wrong on Monday.
Reference 5: http://psmv3.blogspot.com/2016/12/cooks-tours.html.
Reference 6: https://www.rct.uk/collection/2923982/queen-alexandras-christmas-gift-book-photographs-from-my-camera. Obtainable for less than $10 including postage on ebay.
Reference 8: https://psmv2.blogspot.com/2015/06/year-books.html.
Reference 9: https://tabletracker.co.uk/. From which we deduce that M&S use the things in their cafeterias.
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