gri_2003_m_46_b02_f03_048
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Transcribers
- 65508631 - njg
- 65510443 - PenguinCo.
- 65536161 - vanderfb
- 65539596 - csbird
- 65592530 - srasg56
- WINNER - 65652289 - SaraEliz
65508631 - njg
28th March 1949'The Aubreys'
Dearest Sylvia,
I went to St Albans on Friday and saw the Museum (The enclosed postcard shows one of the mosaics), the church
with Bacon's monument that we failed to get in at, and a
fine Roman amphitheater. A drawing of Dandylion here will
be found in this letter. In the morning Gillet (Educa-
tion Officer from St Albans) and I put up the exhibition
in the Congregational Chapel at Redbourn. Soon I'll
send you a sketch of it. As you guess it is a pretty
19th century building. The first day, Saturday, when
we opened was dull: Sunday I was there from
2 till 5 and had about 20 people, including children.
Much of the time children scuffled in the tiny lobby ,
shooting away when I invited them in, returning a few
minutes later, giggling, fidgeting, bolting again. A
Committee woman - Mrs Williams - haunts the place: when
I am showing people around, discussing pictures, in she
comes and starts questioning them about their name, home,
relatives, &c. She is a village busy body of bureaucratic
thoroughness and paranoiac simplicity. She has a discreet
hairlip and a face as long as a Red Indian totem head.
The other day Gillet took me to lunch in the Factory
at which school dinners are made - 2000 a day. Before
having an excellent meal I was invited to inspect the
kitchens. Feeling like the Minister in the Small Back
Room I was escourted along a great vista full of
pale women, puffs of grey steam, complicated ovens, and
hams. The store house is in one of those old orange
Georgian houses fronting the main road at Redbourn which
was looked at. Under a rather decadent Adamesque ceiling
are sacks, tins, boxes of food. The centre of interest is
a relief of the Judgment of Solomon (John Nost school I imagine).
The old ladies who have relieved me for tea at Harpenden
all carried, I have just learned, a pepper pot. Having heard
some reproductions have been stolen they feared further raids
and the idea was if a man should burst in and try to
carry off any part of the exhibition his designs would be
frustrated by having pepper thrown at him. Possibly they
had hatpins and knees ready also . . . The tension under
which these poor things must have labored while I had
leisurely tea, often reading Henry James, is painful to
imagine . . .
Many thanks for your letter which arrived this morning
(see drawing). You give me no inkling of your hopes or expectations of the future and as my last week here has
65510443 - PenguinCo.
28th March 1949 'The Aubreys'Dearest Sylvia,
I went to St Albans on Friday and saw the Museum (The enclosed postcard shows one of the mosaics), the church with Bacon's monument that we failed to get in at, and a fine Roman amphitheatre. A drawing of Dandylion here will be found in this letter. In the morning Gillet (Education Officer from St Albans) and I put up the exhibition in the Congegational Chapel at Redbourn. Soon I'll send you a sketch of it. As you guess it is a pretty 19th century building. The first day, Saturday, when we opened was dull: Sunday I was there from 2 till 5 and had about 20 people including children.
Much of the time children scuffled in the tiny lobby, shooting away when I invited them in, returning a few minutes later, giggling, fidgetting, bolting again. A Committee woman - Mrs Williams - haunts the place: when I am showing people round, discussing pictures, in she comes and starts questioning them about their name, home, relatives, &c. She is a village busy body of bureaucratic thoroughness and paranoiac simplicity. She has a discreet hairlip and a face as long as a Red Indian totem head.
The other day Gillet took me to lunch in the Factory at which school dinners are made - 2000 a day. Before having an excellent meal I was invited to inspect the kitchens. Feeling like the Minister in the Small Back Room I was escourted along a great vista full of pale women, puffs of grey steam, complicated ovens, and hams. The store house is in one of those old orange Georgian houses fronting the main road at Redbourn which we looked at under a rather decadent Adamesque ceiling are sacks, tins, boxes of food. The centre of interest is a relief of the Judgement of Solomon (John Nost school I imagine).
The old ladies who have relieved me for the tea at Harpenden all caried, I have just learned a pepper pot. Having heard some reproductions have been stolen they feared further raids and the idea was if a man should burst in and try to carry off any part of the exhibition his designs would be frustrated by having pepper thrown at him. Possibly they had hatpins and knees read also... The tension under which these poor things must have laboured while I had leisurely tea, often reading Henry James, is painful to imagine...
Many thanks for your letter which arrived this morning (see drawing). You give me no inkling of your hopes or expectations of the future and as my last week here has
65536161 - vanderfb
28th March 2949 'The Aubreys'Dearest Sylvia,
I went to St Albans on Friday and saw the Museum (The enclosed postcard shows one of the mosaics), the church with Bacon's monument that we failed to get in at, and a fine Roman amphitheatre. A drawing of Dandylion here will be found in this letter. In the morning Gillet (Education Officer from St Albans) and I put up the exhibition in the Congregational Chapel at Redbourn. Soon I'll send you a sketch of it. As you guess it is a pretty 19th century building. The first day, Saturday, when we opened was dull: Sunday I was there from 2 till 5 and had about 20 people, including children.
Much of the time children scuffled in the tiny lobby, shooting away when I invited them in, returning a few minutes later, giggling, fidgeting, bolting again. A Committee woman - Mrs Williams - haunts the place: when I am showing people around, discussing pictures, in she comes and starts questioning them about their name, home, relatives &c. She is a village busy body of bureaucratic thoroughness and paranoiac simplicity. She has a discreet hairlip and a face as long as a Red Indian totem head.
The other day Gillet took me to lunch in the Factory at which school dinners are made - 2000 a day. Before having an excellent meal I was invited to inspect the kitchens. Feeling like the Minister in the Small Back Room I was escorted along a great vista full of pale women, puffs of grey steam, complicated ovens and hams. The store house is in one of those old orange Georgian houses fronting the main road at Redbourn which we looked at. Under a rather decadent Adamesque ceiling are sacks, tins, boxes of food. The centre of interest is a relief of the Judgment of Solomon (John Nost school I imagine).
The old ladies who have relieved me for tea at Harpenden all carried, I have just learned, a pepper pot. Having heard some reproductions have been stolen they feared further raids and the idea was if a man should burst in and try to carry off any part of the exhibition his designs would be frustrated by having pepper thrown at him. Possibly they had hatpins and knees ready also... The tension under which these poor things must have laboured while I had leisurely tea, often reading Henry James, is painful to imagine...
Many thinks for your letter which arrived this morning (see drawing). You give me no inkling of your hopes or expectations of the future and as my last week here has
65539596 - csbird
28th March 1949 'The Aubreys'Dearest Sylvia,
I went to St Albans on Friday and saw the Museum (The enclosed postcard shows one of the mosaics), the church with Bacon's monument that we failed to get in at, and a fine Roman amphitheatre. A drawing of Dandylion here will be in this letter. In the morning Gillet (Education Officer from St Albans) and I put up the exhibition in the Congregational Chapel at Redbourn. Soon I'll send you a sketch of it. As you guess it is a pretty 19th century building. The first day, Saturday, when we opened was dull: *today I was* Sunday I was there from 2 till 5 and had about 20 people, including children.
Much of the time children scuffled in the tiny lobby, shooting away when I invited them in, returning a few minutes later, giggling, fidgetting, bolting again. A Committee woman - Mrs Williams - haunts the place: when I am showing people round, discussing pictures, in she comes and starts questioning them about their name, home, relatives, &c. She is a village busy body of bureaucratic thoroughness and paranoiac simplicity. She has a discreet hairlip and a face as long as a Red Indian totem head.
The other day Gillet took me to lunch in the Factory at which school dinners are made - 2000 a day. Before having an excellent meal I was invited to inspect the kitchens. Feeling like the Minister in the Small Back Room I was escourted *round* along a great vista full of pale women, puffs of grey steam, complicated ovens, and hams. The store house is in one of those old oragge Georgian houses fronting the main road at Redbourn which we looked at. Under a rather decadent Adamesque ceiling are sacks, tins, boxes of food. The centre of interest is a relief of the Judgment of Solomon (John Nost school I imagine).
The old ladies who have relieved me for tea at Harpenden all caried, I have just learned, a pepper pot. Having heard some reproductions have been stolen they feared further raids and the idea was if *further* a man should burst in and try to carry off any part of the exhibition his designs would be frustrated by having pepper thrown at him. Possibly they had hatpins and knees ready also... The tension under which these poor things must have laboured while I had *in* leisurely tea, often reading Henry James, is painful to imagine...
Many thanks for your letter which arrived this morning (see drawing). You give me no inkling of your hopes or expectations of the future and as my last week here has
65592530 - srasg56
28th March 1949 'The Aubreys'Dearest Sylvia
I went to St Albans on Friday and saw the Museum (The
enclosed postcard shows one of the mosaics), the church
with Bacon's monument that we failed to get in at, and a
fine Roman amphitheatre. A drawing of Dandylion here will be found in this letter. In the morning Gillet (Educat-
ion Officer from St Albans) and I put up the exhibition
in the Congregational Chapel at Redbourn. Soon I'll
send you a sketch of it. As you guess it is a pretty
19th century building. The first day, Saturday, when
we opened was dull: Sunday I was there from
2 till 5 and had about 20 people, including children.
Much of the time children scuffled in the tiny lobby,
shooting away when I invited them in, returning a few
minutes later, giggling, fidgetting, bolting again. A
Committtee woman - Mrs Williams - haunts the place: when
I am showing people round, discussing pictures, in she
comes and starts questioning them about their name, home,
relatives, &c. She is a village busy body of bureaucratic
thoroughness and paranoiac simplicity. She has a discreet
hairlip and a face as long as a Red Indian totem head.
The other day Gillet took me to lunch in the Factory
at which school dinners are made - 2000 a day. Before
having an excellent meal I was invited to inspect the
kitchens. Feeling like the Minister in the Small Back
Room I was escorted along a great vista full of
pale women, puffs of grey steam, complicated ovens, and
hams. The store house is in one of those old orange
Georgian houses fronting the main road at Redbourn which
we looked at. Under a rather decadent Adamesque ceiling
are sacks, tins, boxes of food. The centre of interest is
a relief of the Judgment of Solomon (John Nost school I
imagine).
The old ladies who have relieved me for tea at Harpenden
all carried, a have just learned, a pepper pot. Having heard
some reproductions have been stolen they feared further raids
and the idea was if a man should burst in and try to
carry off any part of the exhibition his designs would be
frustrated by having pepper thrown at him. Possibly they
had hatpins and knees ready also... The tension under
which these poor things must have laboured while l had
leisurely tea, often reading Henry James, is painful to
imagine...
Many thanks for your letter which arrived this morning
(see drawing). You give me no inkling of your hopes or
expectations of the future and as my last week here has
WINNER - 65652289 - SaraEliz
28th March 1949 'The Aubreys'Dearest Sylvia,
I went to St. Albans on Friday and saw the Muesum (The
enclosed postcard shows one of the mosaics), the church
with Bacon's monument that we failed to get in at, and a
fine Roman amphitheatre. A drawing of Dandylion here will
be found in this letter. In the morning Gillet (Education
Officer from St Albans) and I put up the exhibition
in the Congregational Chapel at Redbourn. Soon I'll
send you a sketch of it. As you guess it is a pretty
19th century building. The first day, Saturday, when
we opened was dull: Sunday I was there from
2 till 5 and had about 20 people, including children.
Much of the time children scuffled in the tiny lobby
shooting away when I invited them in, returning a few
minutes later, giggling, fidgetting, bolting again. A
Committee woman - Mrs williams - haunts the place: when
I am showing people round, discussing pictures, in she
comes and starts questioning them about their name, home,
relatives, &c. She is a village busy body of bureaucratic
thoroughness and paranoiac simplicity. She has a discreet
hairlip and a face as long as a Red Indian totem head.
The other day Gillet took me to lunch in the Factory
at which school dinners are made - 2000 a day. Before
having an excellent meal I was invited to inspect the
kitchens. Feeling like the Minister in the Small Back
Room I was escourted along a great vista full of
pale women, puffs of grey steam, complicated ovens, and
hams. The store house is in one of those old orange
Georgian houses fronting the main road at Redbourn which
we looked at. Under a rather decadent Adamesque ceiling
are sacks, tins, boxes of food. The centre of interest is
a relief of the Judgment of Solomon (John Nost school I
imagine).
The old ladies who have relieved me for tea at Harpenden
all caried, I have just learned, a pepper pot. Having heard
some reproductions have been stolen they feared further raids
and the idea was if a man should burst in and try to
carry off any part of the exhibition his designs would be
frustrated by having pepper thrown at him. Possibly they
had hatpins and knees ready also . . . The tension under
which these poor things must have laboured while I had
leisurely tea, often reading Henry James, is painful to
imagine . . .
Many thanks for your letter which arrived this morning
(see drawing). You give me no inkling of your hopes or
expectations of the future and as my last week here has