Portmanteau No. 004 19361106
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Please be aware that these are transcribed by software,
so there WILL be mistakes.
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10 pages, in three sections.
[Betty was 19 1/2, and had been married 8 weeks when she wrote announcing her pregnancy]
Sesheke,
N.R. 6th November, 1936.
Dear Future Grandmothers, Grandfathers, Uncles and Aunts,
Well done, everybody, especially ME! Don't you think we're awfully clever, because we are terribly proud of ourselves - although we haven't really done anything to be proud of yet! But we're going to, and I do hope you're as thrilled as we are, because we think it's just marvellous. It seems absolutely incredible and impossible for US to be parent-birds, but it must be true because the nice nurse at the Mission - Miss Lanz - says there can be No Doubt About It, from all the symptoms.
So please congratulate us and start knitting woolly socks AT ONCE. We've really timed it very neatly, because he'll just arrive nicely in the middle of the cold weather, which is the nicest time of the year - about the middle of July. It's TERRIBLY hot now - 104 for the last two days - but we're hoping that it'll get cool soon and I'll try not to bust if it doesn't.
We've been having a marvellous time thinking of names for it, and we thought if it is a boy we might call it Cadwallader Adolf, and if it's a girl, how about Amelia Sabrina? Don't you think these would be delightful? Well, anyway, we have thought of a couple, but we thought perhaps you might like to send us your suggestions first without knowing our choice, and say if you object very strongly to any particular name. No names for boys beginning with C will be taken to the Court such as Cyril, Cecil, Claude, etc.
We don't know yet if we are going to stay here, or if we are going to be moved to Mankoya in six months, as they threatened. If we stay, it will be quite easy - I just remain here quite happily and peacefully and go down to Livingstone to have it out. As there is a nurse here on the station I could quite safely bring the brat back here for the rest of our tour, and it will be hopping and talking by the time we bring it home! If we go to Mankoya at the beginning of April, I should probably have to go straight ot Lusaka or Livingstone, and I doubt if we could have it at Mankoya as there is no doctor within 130 miles. So that would be distinctly awkward, unless we were to have a good nurse of our own. We needn't Start thinking of that yet awhile, I don't know if we ARE going to Mankoya or not, Luckily Phibbs doesn't want to come back here, in fact he's going to move heaven and earth not to come back, in which case we should be more than likely to stay here, and G's going to write to the Provincial Commissioner (Poole) who is quite a decent sort of bird, and put the case before him.
We've written to the doctor in Livingstone to ask him to come out and see us, but we don't know when he will be able to come. He will probably fly out, which only takes forty minutes and which we will have to pay for. But Miss Lanz is very nice and young and safe and we have great confidence in her, and every-thing is perfectly all right. But I DO wish it was cooler.
G is being perfectly MARVELLOUS - a most model Husband and Prospective Father - and (G speaking) Bet is the most marvelous Wife that's ever been and if she goes on very much longer I am rather afraid that she may be borne away on wings. In which case the baby will be borne in the air, and I haven't got a landing net. (Bet speaking) It'll need a fat lot of wings to carry ME in the air.
When are you going to send us some photos of the wedding? You say every mail that you are going to send some but they haven't come yet, and we do want to see them so badly. I AM glad you all enjoyed the wedding, because we simply loved it. We keep on wishing we could have it all over again, because it seemed such a waste to last only that short time. And at the time we were just longing for it to be over so that we could really belive we were Married.
I loved that wedding, but I wish I could remember more about it, because I don't remember seeing Mum or Mummy or anybody except 0 and Uncle Robbie and the Dean. Even the bridesmaids were dim clouds of white and green surrounded by teeth and lilies or carnations, or whatever they had. Even Dad seemed to disappear as soon as we got there, and I didn't hear a single hymn or psalm or anything. The only thing I couldn't help hearing was the Dean's address, which seemed as though it was never going to end. I also heard G say I Will, and I heard myself say I Will too, and it didn't sound a bit like my voice. At one moment I felt just as if we were having a rehearsal for a play, or something - that it just couldn't POSSIBLY be MY wedding. It WAS thrilling, and I did enjoy it all so. I also remember seeing Cyril and B. Maude, who were sitting on the right hand side of the altar, and the Cransford Hamiltons, and the little Ainsworths. I didn't even see Ralph, or anybody.
Musonda is terribly thrilled about the Baby, and grinned all over his face when G told him; I suppose he considers that I am fulfilling my duty as a dutiful wife. He takes very great care of me and gives me belled eggs for supper.
Phibbs has now gone, and we are not very sorry, because we wanted to be by ourselves. He used to come up to meals for the last few days as all his stuff was packed up, and he's left us his milk separator, which is marvellous, and his Great Dane, who smells horribly and is much too big to be pleasant. He was very glad to go, and I don't blame him, because he has been here alone for most of the hot weather, as his wife went down south in September, and it is too much to expect anybody to be sweet-tempered at the end of it.
We had a herd, school or gaggle of locusts the other night. According to My Husband it wasn't a very big one, but it looked miles long, and when I first saw them I thought it was a brown lust storm going on about amile away over t1 trees. They circled round over the village and came flying over the landing-ground like a great long; snake, at a height of about ten feet above the ground. We stood underneath them and tried to catch some, and succeeded in knocking two down with our hands, but one escaped and the other we couldn't find. They were huge great red fellows, with enormous pop-eyes, and the whirr of their wings made a terrific noise. Luckily there was nothing in the garden worth their while to eat, so they settled down on the aerodrome and the gum avenue for the night and next day they had nearly all gone - the locusts, Imean, not the gum trees!
The other bit of big game I have encountered is a SCORPION. He was absolutely horrible, and I was really nervous of him. I was sitting there learning Chiwemba very diligently, and I looked up to the ceiling to repeat some words and saw two nasty feelers sticking over the edge of the ceiling. They wiggled bout a bit, end then disappeared, and no legs appeared; about a few seconds later the feelers appeared again over the edge a few inches further on, and then one or two legs appeared about four inches behind the feelers, and they all went walking along the edge of the ceiling towards the wall above my head. When he got to the end he tried to come down, but his antennae said he couldn't, so he walked across the corner of the wall and I could see the whole horrible length of him.
He disappeared through the corner and I rushed for Musonda, who came along with a broom, and when we got back there he was lying face downwards on the wall - a nasty, evil-natured, horny red centipede about four inches long and fairly think, with an evil-natured face and an evil-natured tail with two spikes hanging out at the back. Musonda gave him a great clump with the broom, and up went his tail, and he squirmed a lot, but Musonda killed him and I told him he could eat him for dinner, which amused him highly.
Ever since then I have banged out my mosquito boots before I put them on! He wasn't a bit like what I imagined a Scorpion to look like. I always thought they were humpy, rather like a lobster only a good deal smaller, and I didn't think he had such a lot of legs, or was so long and thin. I'm glad I've seen one, but he was VERY nasty.
We have heard a hyena two nights running, making his lovely "Woooo-OOf" and singing happily to himself in the moonlight, but we haven't seen his tracks anywhere near the Boma. Chief didn't like him at all, and barked and howled quite a lot at first, bat eventually got used to him.
No crocs or hippos or lions or duck, and I haven't tried the fishing yet as we haven't really had time. Not in the way one usually means, but it's too hot to go out till after six, and it gets dark soon after half past, and we usually want to have a little constitutional then as it's the only part of the day when it is possible to be out. We usually walk round by the top arm of the landing ground, and then down to the river and sit on the bank for a bit and watch the fish rise and listen to the Hammer-headed storks gabbling at each other in their raucous voices as they flap down the rivers
It's always lovely and still down there, and the sunset over the other side makes marvellous colours on the river, and I want to saint them but I can't because they go so quickly, and every night they're different. Sometimes a canoe will come dippling along close to the bank, full of skins or dead buck that the natives have killed on the Simaraha Plain, and are taking back to their homes. They kneel down in their little narrow boat and clap their hands, and G passes the time of day with them and says "Go well".
The presents haven't come yet, but the invoices of what's in each case have -- and I'd no idea you were sending out every single present. Oh lordy, lordy what AM I going to do with EIGHT handbags in the middle of the bush? My only hope is that lots of people will get married in this country, and then I can dole them out early morning teasets and cases of silver teaspoons alternately. We have nine early morning teasets, so we thought we'd use a different early morning teaset every morning for the early morning tea we don't have: We are going to open about three cases I think, just to get out the things we want, and the rest will have to just sit somewhere out of the way till we find something to do with them all. After all, we don't really want "six sets of table mats, various”, specially has he already had two perfectly good sets. And the whole caboodle is going to cost us about £50, and we don't need half of it!
Three of the Snapdragons in the garden have heads on them now, and the bougainvillea arch is splendiferous. The frangipani we brought are getting along very nicely, and have remained nice and green. They have no flew-re yet, of course, but several little curly shoots have appeared. The carnations we planted - or rather sowed - in a bowl about a week ago now number One, and he is about a quarter of an inch high and looks like a blade of grass. The orange trees have no sign of fruit or flowers on them, because they haven't been looked after at all, 'and are just a mass of over-grown leaves. The mango tree is coming along quite well, but we have no lemons or pawpaws like they have down at the Mission. But of course it's worth their while to plant things like that which take a long time, because they are going to be there a long time, whereas we always have the rather selfish feeling behind our minds that anything we plant will only be for the benefit of future generations, and that we'll never pluck the fruit of our labours. Our franginpani won't be grown up for three years or more, and our vegetables (planted the day before yesterday) will probably take sort time to be of any use to anybody.
The Brat being never far from our minds, what about Godparents? We thought we wouldn't ask Heather and Ralph and Peter if they don't very much object, because we feel that they have an uncly and auntly interest and duty already, without having a godparently one, so, between ourselves and a few doorposts, we thought we might ask Hugh Farmer, as he is G's greatest friend, and G is Godfather to his newly-born eon; David, because he's such fun and would be SUCH a kind godfather, and I should imagine MOST dutiful Evie, because she's Evie; and we didn't know who to have for the other godmother if it's a girl, which it won't be, so that doesn't really enter the case. Any objections or suggestions will be honoured by our esteemed consideration.
I do hope Heather and Ralph and Peter aren't VERY much offended at this apparent Slight on their Escutcheons, because you DO see what we mean, don't you? It does you out of the bother of having to give it a Present for its christening, and of having to guard its soul till it has reached Years of Discretion, and of having to hold the horrible thing while it is being christened, so you're really very lucky to be let off so lightly.
Monday, 9th November, 1936.
It's still terribly hot, which is such a shame, because there was a terrific wind last night and quite a lot of thunder in the afternoon - all to no good.
I'm afraid I haven't had much energy to do anything much in the way of house-making, and we haven't even opened the sewing machine yet although we've got quite a nice little roll of curtain stuff waiting to be stuck up. I've been reading quite a bit, because it does help to keep one's mind off the heat, and trying to repair the ravages of bachelorhood among G's socks, and I've learnt quite a lot of Chiwemba, though the, boys try awfully hard to understand and are really very good at getting my meaning. AND the letters I've written! This portmanteau always takes a terrific long time, and the week seems to absolutely fly by, so that by the time I've started it it's time to end it off and start another. It's good fun only having one post a week, and it's so exciting getting the letters on Sunday morning.
We got two lovely long ones from Mummy, and a little scrappet from Mum as a P.S. to a long one which we haven't got yet, and a very dear one from dad each - and I'll try TERRIBLY hard to make it a boy.
Poor G has to go to the Office again after lunch, which we have at twelve, so I go and have a nice afternoon's meditation in the dressing-room, which is the coolest place in the house except for the store-room, nd we usually talk or read after tea till it is cool enough to go out for our walk, at about six o'clock.
We have advertised in the Livingstone Mail for some Dogs, because old Hunk, though very friendly and affectionate, is Smelly, Large, and Useless as far as walks are concerned, as he show not the slightest interest in game of any kind, he doesn't even prick his ears when a bird gets up in front of him, or bounce when G shoots. We want some thing in the terrier or pointer line, that will go in and rout out all the game there is, and go and pick it up when it's shot. Hunk is all right as a Watch-dog, and has a lovely deep bark for natives scrounging round the house at night, - but he's afraid of hyenas! But he DOES feel the heat so badly, poor old fool, and the hot sand hats his paws dreadfully.
I wonder how long these letters take to get to you? They leave here by barge on Wednesday, and get to Livingstone probably on Friday or Saturday. I suppose they then have to go up to Lusaka or Broken Hill or somewhere by train, as Livingstone is not an Imperial Airways stop, and they then jump into an aeroplane which takes about ten days to get to England. Is that right? It makes a terrific difference when you write by Airmail, and I hope you always will, as we've had one letter by sea mail written about the day after the wedding, and this other little one, and that's all besides those two Airmail ones you sent to greet us at Livingstone. By sea it must be about five weeks before we get the letters, as it takes such a time to get anything up here.
We've got some very fine chickens here - six Leghorns and a few native ones, and they lay a fine lot of eggs. One nearly went broody the other day, but didn't after all, which was rather a shame as we wouldn't mind having some more chickens. I think G must have a bad effect on the female population of Sesheke, because the day after we arrived two cows in the Boma herd produced calves, and one of the sheep produced a calf, and another has since produced another; one of the chickens did her best, and now here am I starting the same game!! We're just beginning to believe it now, as it's a week to-day that we suspected anything Odd.
I don't think there's anything more to say that I can think of, but we have such fun imagining your excitement on reading your letters! I hope you're all at home when they arrive, so that you can ring each other up, or go and see each other, or something, because it IS something rather extra special, isn't it.
Goodbye everybody for this week, and I'll report developments next week. Am I telling you about the sort of things yon want to know? Because do tell me if there's anything I am leaving out by mistake, as I probably haven't thought of it, and there may be lots of things you are longing to hear about that it hasn't entered my silly head to mention.
Lots and lots of love darlings, from
US.
P.S. I had to add this other page (it's Tuesday now) because we've just had our first excitement since we arrived - or rather since we discovered the Other Great Excitement that I've told you about! - and that is that a Crocodile took hold of a calf by the river this morning and drowned him, and we went down to see what we could see and do - which wasn't much.
I was sitting here in the dining-room (the coolest place) writing letters, when I heard My Husband shouting for the boy when he should have been earning his daily bread at the Office. So I flew out, and there he was puffing like an old grampus, having run all the way from the Office to get his gun, as a native had just rushed in to say the calf was putting up a good fight on the bank of the river about 3/4 of a mile away from here. So G jumped on to Musonda's bicycle, and I jumped into a hat and a pair of shoes and went as fast as we could to the scene of action, plus cine-camera.
By the time we got there, however, the nasty animal had disappeared, plus victim, and there was only the stirred-up mud by the bank to show the site of the Tragedy. Presently one of the crowd pointed out to the middle of the river, and there, floating gently downstream, was a long black log, pushing the round body of the calf in front of his nose. He was trying to turn it towards the far bank, but couldn't, and when he heard the dip of paddles as G approached in a canoe with his gun, he sank, leaving the calf floating down. So they got hold of the calf and pulled it into the shore, but it was quite dead - evidently drowned, as the teeth-marks were very slight. It had probably been drinking, and the croc had got it by the neck and held its head under till it drowned, poor animal - mad the result is we are having Veal for lunch!
We waited for a bit to see if there was any sign of the croc, and he did come up once or twice and lay on the surface laughing at us, so G took a pot shot at him from the shore, and there was a terrific splash and a squirl, and he disappeared for good. All the natives round were terribly thrilled, and laughed like anything, as they always do when anything nasty is hit, but they couldn't tell if he was killed or not. They said he was hit in the shoulder, though how they could see at that distance I fail to understand. I got a small bit of film of it, but it was so small and far off I shouldn't think it will come out. I got a bit of G hoorooshing along on the bicycle over the sand, with Chishimba running along beside him with the gun, because they DID look so comic! The pore bicycles' tyres were none the better for their little escapade, as there are a lot of thorns about, and they were both as flat as pancakes by the time we got down to the river.
We've had two more scorpions - one late last night and one this morning. Last night's was actually sitting in the bedroom, under the shoe-rack, the cheeky devil, and was just like the one I told you about before. It's horrid having them loose in the house like this, and I always flick my sponges into the water very quickly without picking them up, as they are very fond of going to bed in sponges.
This morning's was brought to the verandah for my inspection having been found by the water tank outside the bathroom. It was rather different from the other two, and more like what I had expect-ed. It had a shorter, hornier body, with only about six white legs instead of twenty or so, and its tail looked like a string of tiny vertebrae, with no legs underneath, and with two black shiny claw-like spikes at the end, as compared with the white, rather limp-looking hanging ends of the others'.
Hooray, all the presents have arrived! All fourteen cases, and they looked so comic walking up from the river on boys' heads. Unfortunately they arrived in the evening, and - even though I actually forgot! - it would have been too late to have taken a film of them. We have opened about three packing cases so far, the saddle (definitely essential) and all the little folding tables and trays and cushion, which will all come in useful; the pictures, which we can't put up till the picture wire comes from Livingstone; the books, which are always popular; the rugs, which we have put back into your lovely old tin trunk Mum, thank you very much for it, till we need there in the cold. weather; the Girl Guide H.Q. standard lamp, which we are having quite a time to discover how to put together; Rusty’s gong; the decanter stand that Hugh Farmer gave us; all eight sets of table mats, which we honestly don't know WHAT to do with - but no doubt Musonda would love to have them as they would make most ingenious and exquisite articles of clothing!
Two picnic baskets have emerged, one with both the tops of the thermoses or thermi broken; also the very nice tea service Mrs. Jagger gave us, and the other pieces of Jane's dinner service; and various miscellaneous things, such as a lustre bowl (which we will probably plant things in) Winn Everett's work-box; Jinny's fly-proof jug covers; James's meat safes (which Musonda is very proud of); the copperkettle; two tall handsome china candlesticks which are rather ricketty on their stalks; the two Gilwell candlesticks, which we think we will use for dinner instead of the tall paraffin lamp, who is rather too bright on the table.
Oh, did you notice, on the Invoice it called the four webbing girths "Four cloth belts"! Isn't that prime, specially for the Army and Navy, who one would have thought knew! I don't think we’ll ever be able to call girths "girths' again - we will always think of them as "cloth belts".
We have also got out the gramophone records and the Gun. It's now after lunch, and we have since unpacked a case of glass, and found two finger-bowls broken and one glass water-jug and the top of one of the lamp-chimneys. A lot of the glass we want to put away somewhere, as there is really no room for it in the house.
I never told you about Daddy's present to Musonda being given to him. Daddy gave G a nice new razor to bring out for Musonda so when we were unpacking we called him in, and G got out the razor and was on the point of giving it to him, when he changed his mind, and gave him his own old one instead, and put the beautiful new one on his own dressing table.
Musonda expostulated, so G said "'Well, if you don't want a present I'll keep it" so he took away his own razor too. The other boy, Chishimba, was roaring with laughter at poor old Musonda being taken in like that, and they both love any joke of that sort.
It looked so rain-like last night, and got ever so much cooler, and in the night we had a few thick drops on the roof, but that was all it could do. This morning there was another bunch of drops, but not enough to notice, but it has cleared the air marvellously and it is about ten degree s cooler than it has been for ten days or so. It's SUCH a relief, and will be even more so if it would only give us a good decent shower. The clouds are hanging pretty low all round, so we ought to get our share soon, and I WILL be glad when we do.
I am getting into a terrible state of laziness - I do no work all day, but just lie like a lazy log in my long chair on the verandah, reading and sewing mildly and ordering the boys about. Luckily there is no need at all to do anything energetic, and I HAVE got an excuse to be lazy and pampered!
Well, I think that really is all now, so goodbye once more everybody, and be good till next week.
Lots of love from Us.
