During WWII the British - a nation of people that I have nothing but the utmost respect for - with the exception of Benny Hill - helped to boost moral during the war by posting standards that read "Keep Calm - Carry On". These are words of strength to me, as I have adopted them as my personal inspiration, and as my personal guide for charting the course of my life.
Yesterday, the motto once again came to the rescue. Poor Edwin was bumbling about in our daughter's carriage house looking for charcoal lighter fluid and accidentally found an old can of liquid DDT which he mistakenly thought was lighter fluid. Needlessly to say that the contents, which our son in law later said could be as old as sixty-years, created an explosive moment and singed all of Edwin's eyebrows off as he attempt to light the charcoal after saturating it in the toxic fluid.
Worse still, my daughter's lovely back yard was soon infested with Wellesley Firemen in haz-mat suits trying to assess the toxicity levels from the banned chemical.
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| The Country Club as I remember it. |
But after seeing that Edwin was OK, I remembered my motto - I kept calm and carried on. I found a telephone and called the Wellesley Country Club, where our daughter and son in law are members, and made reservations for a holiday dinner.Normally this is one of their busiest weekends, but I attended Dana Hall School for girls with the grandmother of the facilities manager so they were able to squeeze us in.
There are those who feel that we Smith-Standish's rely too much upon the country club for such occasions. And this may be true. But we pay good money for our memberships. The food is nutritious and palatable, on occasion quite good.
Really, while others may wax poetic about back yard barbeque's and the fun had by all, when one has a potential toxic clean up to deal with brought about by poor eye sight and chemicals enough that could kill a large mammal, why not call upon your country club in your hour of need?
And truth be told, it really is much easier - and it is our way.
As for me, I have wrapped my hair in tissue paper as not to disturb it's styling, and will be turning in for the night. They expect poor Edwin to be released from Newton Wellesley's burn unit by Wednesday. Will keep you abreast of his condition.
May your week ahead be productive!
Mrs. Edwin Smith Standish
My dear Mrs. Smith Standish, I regret to say that our family fared no better. I am writing from Great Aunt Maude's fainting couch. Unfortunately the watercress mayonaise served with the cold poached chicken breasts was a tad bit off. Approximately an hour after the meal all of us were struck with stomach discomfort. The several bathrooms were not enough and many ran for the woods. In summation we ended up in the hospital for treatment; I fear that he stench in the Town Car may render it permanently unusable. I know that I will never be wearing that Lily Pulitzer shirtwaist again. Sincerely TB
ReplyDeleteMadame,
ReplyDeleteSo sorry to learn that you were not able to "go back East", and of Edwin's horrible accident.
Hopefully your daughter possesses some of your good sense and remains calm, as I am sure she will have to vacate the carriage house for quite some time, I hope this does not add greatly to your present turmoil in any way.
It is rather nice to belong to a club, it give one a certain gravity of continuity. I must also point out that, if one looks on the bright side, all of those awful, noisy cicadas in the vicinity have probably been exterminated...
I suggest taking a bromide, and put some gin in it.
Yours
Dear Wally. I think you misunderstand. We were back east when Edwin bombed himself with DDT. We are not back in Ohio, as the hospital said that he was detoxified to fly.
ReplyDeleteOh my!
ReplyDeleteI do beg your pardon. I would like to blame my nerve medication for my lack of grasp, as I refuse to blame the gin.
Enjoy your time East then, and I am sorry that you will still have to put up with the cicadas...