No post yesterday as had a visit from younger daughter and son in law and had a lovely day. Cooked lunch and then went out for a drive as Helen is taking her test and needed some practice and then after an hour of three point turns and reversing round corners, I took the wheel and off we went on a meander in the country as they are thinking of moving out of London. It was a simply gorgeous sunny afternoon and anybody who thinks that Essex is merely Ilford, Romford and the like, should have been in the car with us as we poodled along through country lanes, under over-arching green trees forming a dappled tunnel for us to drive through, and to see the fields and little streams and wild hedges. It was quite uplifting to the spirit.
I have been immersed in LM Montgomery's Journals as you know (Vol 3 is now on its way - had a confirmatory email this morning), and the wonderful biog by Mary Hedley Rubio, all of which have been absorbing and gut wrenching and I felt I needed a little light relief before I embarked on anything else. So I turned to PG Wodehouse and Thank You Jeeves in which our wonderful hero, Bertie Wooster, is forced to leave his London flat after numerous complaints by his neighbours at his hours of practice on the banjolele. He takes a cottage in the country but when Jeeves hears that this is purely so he can practice in peace, decides he has had enough 'if it is your intention to play that instrument within the confines of a country cottage, I fear I must give my notice'.
Well, without Jeeves chaos sets in and this story then gets totally convoluted, involves Bertie being kidnapped by an American millionaire who is insistent on his marrying his daughter (to whom he was once engaged for 24 hours a year or so hence), being viewed with suspicion and hounded by the bucolic constabulary, blacking up for a wildly politically incorrect minstrel show, then finding he cannot get the stuff off without an application of butter, then threatened with an axe by a mad valet and...well I could to on but it makes no sense to do so as it is totally barmy. It is also totally hilarious.
Then Quick Service, a stand alone novel which seems to involve, and this is a recurring theme in the few PGW I have read, a young man being asked to steal a portrait. Being a burglar seems to be a hobby for the society young men at this time, Bertie does it on at least half a dozen occasions. Still, it is a useful plot device for mayhem and misunderstanding and had me quietly sniggering into my morning cup of tea.
I am loving all the PG Wodehouse that I have read so far but have to say that, though I know Blandings has its aficionados and I enjoyed the only one that has swum across my ken so far, I simply adore the Jeeves stories and I think this is because Bertie is a real sweetie, dim yes but kind hearted and generous to a fault.
And then I turned to The Egg and I another title to join the distinguished list of Books I used to Shelve Regularly when I was a Librarian and turned my nose up at (sorry for the appalling grammar) and recently given to me to read by a friend who said ' Cannot believe you have not read these Elaine'. She also was staggered I had not read Mapp and Lucia. I do like to keep my friends on their toes.
Fortunately, she has all four written by this author and so I have a great few days ahead of me while I work my way through them. The Egg and I tells the story of Betty's marriage to the laconic and, to me anyway, utterly self absorbed and selfish Bob, and how they go to live out West and run a chicken farm. Written with the same wit and throw away charm as, yes I am going to mention it again, Diary of a Provincial Lady, though this time transposed in to the wild wild West, I laughed delightedly and devoured every page. Aged 19 and carted off to dig, mow, put up chicken sheds, cook, can, bottle, wash, have children, fight forest fires, work from dawn to dusk with no electricity and for the first two years there, no running water - well I am staggered she stuck it so long.
Don't know much about Betty Macdonald so am going to google her and read up a bit, but I can tell you now she is a woman after my own heart. I mean, look at this:
"I failed to understand why farm wives were always talking about the sense of accomplishment they derived from doing a large washing. I would have had a lot more feeling of accomplishment lying in bed while someone else did the washing"
YAY!
"I couldn't borrow books because my neighbours never read. Reading was a sign of laziness, boastfulness and general degradation"
No hope for me then .....
