Robin — March 5, 1909

March 5, 1909

Kelowna, B. C.

My dearest Kathleen,                                                                                                             

I got my two letters this week [Kathleen–February 15, 1909 and Kathleen–February 19, 1909] so my expectations were realised, although you say you don’t think I deserved the second one, and mark you! you say that after I have just spent a fortnight without a letter at all.  I feel like filling about four pages on the injustice of all women and you in particular, especially as you won’t have time to answer this and you can’t be so heartless as to retaliate when I first come back; but as I got the letter and it was a very nice one, I will let you off.

You do lead the strenuous life with a vengeance.  I can’t make out whether you’re having lots of hunting or very little, as it doesn’t seem to either freeze or thaw for three consecutive days.  You must guess again at what you are likely to be hunting next winter.  There are no rats in this country (cheers) and unless you know lots more about poultry than I do, you will have a good many blank days egg hunting.  I never got an egg all through the winter except the kind which I preserve in waterglass.  I am going to have 400 put up this summer for next winter’s consumption and even then I bet we don’t have enough to last till the hens start laying again.

Some winter when we happen to be in funds we will go to California, which I believe is an ideal place in the winter, somewhat like the south of France I imagine, though I may be quite wrong.  [One of their trips to California is mentioned here.]

I was distinctly amused at the way Mrs. Waddingham drove you all to bed like good little children.  Harry and I always suppose that Francie will go on strike one of these days.  She gives one the impression of having a pretty useful temper if she ever lets it go and she doesn’t seem the sort of person who would be ordered about by anybody.  I don’t believe you are either, but that’s neither here nor there.

I thought the Ladies’ Ball was the 18th, but if it’s the 16th I shall have to come earlier, probably leave the 27th and at the very latest get to England about the 9th or 10th, about the worst possible what with Good Fridays and Bank Holidays, for I know that the train service, cabs, porters, and everything else are entirely demoralized just then.

I am going to the Mallams’ tomorrow and shall finish this when I come back, as I shan’t get a chance of posting it before Wednesday unless I finish it now and write again for Wednesday, as this is not much of a letter; but perhaps two installments are better than one complete serial.  I only wrote about three days ago so naturally there’s not much to say.  [The letter to which Robin refers is not extant.]  I am waiting for the frost to get out the ground now and it’s in nearly 18 inches still.  I have never known it go in so far, but then it’s never been so cold before.  Probably next winter won’t be any colder than you’ve had it this time in England; but even if it’s 50 below zero I couldn’t exist as the Cleminsons do, though I will confess to frequently combining breakfast and lunch at 11:00 o’clock or thereabouts and we can always have Powell in to light all the fires and get things warm before we get up.

Ever your loving


(To be continued in our next)


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