five photographs (ours) and a poem (from Sir. J. Betjeman)

darlings

we’re RUSHING out the door ever so soon – but wanted to leave you a moment of reverie  in the meantime – five photographs from the past day and a Poem that we read as the sun dipped behind the Palm Trees while sipping tea-with-lemon.

enjoy.

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A Subaltern’s Love Song

poem by John Betjeman

Miss J. Hunter Dunn, Miss J. Hunter Dunn,
Furnish’d and burnish’d by Aldershot sun,
What strenuous singles we played after tea,
We in the tournament – you against me!

Love-thirty, love-forty, oh! weakness of joy,
The speed of a swallow, the grace of a boy,
With carefullest carelessness, gaily you won,
I am weak from your loveliness, Joan Hunter Dunn.

Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn,
How mad I am, sad I am, glad that you won,
The warm-handled racket is back in its press,
But my shock-headed victor, she loves me no less.

Her father’s euonymus shines as we walk,
And swing past the summer-house, buried in talk,
And cool the verandah that welcomes us in
To the six-o’clock news and a lime-juice and gin.

The scent of the conifers, sound of the bath,
The view from my bedroom of moss-dappled path,
As I struggle with double-end evening tie,
For we dance at the Golf Club, my victor and I.

On the floor of her bedroom lie blazer and shorts,
And the cream-coloured walls are be-trophied with sports,
And westering, questioning settles the sun,
On your low-leaded window, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn.

The Hillman is waiting, the light’s in the hall,
The pictures of Egypt are bright on the wall,
My sweet, I am standing beside the oak stair
And there on the landing’s the light on your hair.

By roads “not adopted”, by woodlanded ways,
She drove to the club in the late summer haze,
Into nine-o’clock Camberley, heavy with bells
And mushroomy, pine-woody, evergreen smells.

Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn,
I can hear from the car park the dance has begun,
Oh! Surrey twilight! importunate band!
Oh! strongly adorable tennis-girl’s hand!

Around us are Rovers and Austins afar,
Above us the intimate roof of the car,
And here on my right is the girl of my choice,
With the tilt of her nose and the chime of her voice.

And the scent of her wrap, and the words never said,
And the ominous, ominous dancing ahead.
We sat in the car park till twenty to one
And now I’m engaged to Miss Joan Hunter Dunn.

 

random acts of (rosy) kindness

felt a little bit blue this morning. so decided to brighten up our day by being very #teamgloriastyle out there – you know – In The World (and at the Day Job).

so we wrapped up a few parcels – and popped them in a bag with two dozen white roses and left for work (sigh – a Tiny Bit Late again).

once we got to the office we asked the nice people on reception for a pair of scissors (kerfuffle as they had to find the First Aid Kit – apparently scissors are Contraband on the main lobby – #gasp) and then we cut a single rose for our favorite/nicest/loveliest security guard R.

R said he would put it in water and secretly hide it behind the big lobby guard area. we smiled at the thought.

then we went to a little shop/store/receptacleofproducts inside the main building and gave one to L. she was shy and made us promise to not put her in the picture at all. we promised. because keeping promises is Very Important when being kind.

then we headed upstairs to the place we are meant to be in a lot more hours than we are able to put in due to the synthroid/post-surgery effect (and we’re kinda worried to be honest at how this is “going down”) and handed out roses, leaving just enough to put in a vase on our windowsill like this:

by the time jw/1 came for a Very Important meeting (sigh – lots of spreadsheets that he helped us decode as that is Not our strongest talent) we had run-out-of-roses so we gave him a splendid sticker that William sent us. doesn’t he look delicious?

did you know there’s a Whole Movement of kindness-moments?

here’s kindnessgirl 

 

and guerilla goodness

there’s also a woman in brooklyn who leaves adorable stickers everywhere with cute and happy/kind messages but we can’t find her site – do you know it? please post in the comments and we’ll Update This Link.

just so you know – we have no idea why – but the sore-throat-and-grumpy-feeling due to you-know-what passed just for a bit today. and that helps.

so did the Nicest Lunch with someone kind (and very witty – which we always enjoy while breaking bread – or at least a healthy dose of brown rice, fish and vegetables followed by strawberries and a little-cheese-because-we’re-european).

 

medical leave day 6: people who need people: #sigh. team gloria becomes an archipelago.

medical leave day #6.

lessons learned yesterday – people who need people (thank you J_actor_friend for lending us the EXCELLENT Barbra TV specials from the 60s+) and our slow realization/awareness that we are ceasing our island-ness-self-sufficiency-we’ll-do-our-own-lists-darling-thank you……to team gloria becomes an archipelago – we can’t even walk outside the apartment on our own (too pathetically – in a Victorian maiden sense – not a cruel one – weak and wounded) and so a troupe (a veritable troupe! of real and virtual friends) are needed to get us through the day (the mental health being verging on dubious at the best of times – akin to genius they told us in our extreme youth as adults gathered around to watch us play chess – not always the most helpful upbringing to be fully socialized with other (well, normal) children (we always found the outcasts and the wounded and still love Their Company, naturally ;-)

so here was yesterday’s delicious group of friends who came to call – they spoke – we whispered – they walked us round the block and let us pause ever so frequently on a wooden bench outside a small cafe while they got us a decaf iced no sugar to soothe our VERY SCRATCHY AND SORE THROAT (just in case you didn’t get that – it bloody hurts):

we awoke late – (didn’t) admire the bruises appearing on our body from the calcium draining away (we keep popping the interminable amount of pills but apparently this is normal) – we supposed we DID just go through a hellish surgery and the heart monitor burn is now a veritable battle scar and we’re sort of Proud of it – which is worrying – (but not to our friends who saw us in the very late 80s in dodgy clubs in sarf’ london where-the-cabs-don-t-go) and finally got dressed (who knew it took that long when it’s not as if we have a vast array of wardrobe choices being more of a uniform sort of a person in the Jean Muir sense, darlings).

Jonathan (our actor friend) came first – gave us beautiful gifts – and then, after a short walk, we curled up beneath our black (yes, hard to find, but so much nicer) pashmina and the grey/gray cashmere scarf that Cindy sent us from the Other Coast but Further Up (yes, SF) on the sofa and he read to us from Armistead Maupin (this will be one of the themes of our recovery from surgery so bear with us).

then one of our Very Glamorous/Chic Friends (from Abroad) came by (delivered by a driver – isn’t that too delicious?) and we looked dubiously at her feet while asking her to take us for a walk (see picture – HERMES – we know – So Rare in the house of Doctor Martens ;-)

“no problem, dah-ling” she said and reached into her (chic) bag and brought out some Capri type sandals (yes, they Were Chanel) and took us for a walk.

then we sat for a while and she talked and we twinkled at her most excellent anecdotes.

MORE FLOWERS ARRIVED: it was like Gertrude Lawrence’s dressing room here yesterday (and we have to say we are a tiny bit – ok – a lot – sad that not a peep from the Day Job)

and then we had to sleep for a long time – this illness as a metaphor is little more than extreme exhaustion not sure how Susan S got an entire book out of it.

much later in the evening, our lovely friend B (one of the Bs – this one is of the very chic shirts and slim denim look – when he’s not in drag, that is ;) came to take us round the block again and then we had a little supper. we were “totally over” the rabbit food and needed a luscious omelette and a (small) side of (cut up into tiny slices) fried potatoes with salt (the salt being a crucial ingredient).

so there you have it – not a lot of action – but a Ton of Friends.

see – we’re not so much of an island anymore.

a rather Cute Archipelago if we do say so ourselves.

let’s not forget this when we have to return to the sniper fire of midtown manhattan.

(btw, we cancelled/canceled a few subscriptions to periodicals that just aren’t us and it felt liberating – we really don’t care – it seems – who knew?)