September 18, 1908
Kelowna, B. C.
My dearest Kathleen,
I think it will probably be half a letter this time [this reference and others below are to Kathleen–September 3, 1908], as I haven’t done anything worth writing about; but then in most of my letters, news doesn’t take up very much room. I am afraid I am a rotten letter-writer.
Last Sunday, Harry and I went to play tennis with some people who have just started a court. This does not sound so important as it is. Till this year, no one who lived out in the country thought of having tennis courts and now they are beginning to experiment with earth courts, which are far better for this country and much less trouble to look after, which is quite a consideration in a land where people keep their courts in order themselves. And I think you will find in two or three years that there will be quite a number of tennis courts round here and probably a tennis club in Kelowna, which I believe is being started now. I hope to have one myself soon when I have enough spare time to go into the matter, but probably I shall leave that till after I come out next time. You do not hold out any promise of its coming in useful next year. I shall have to come and play on your court, not you on mine.
Great joy, the carpenters have finished off the kitchen at last and we have a room to feed in that has windows, doors, and all complete. We are waiting for the first spare moment to get the stove back in it and then we shall be comfortable once more. The pantry, which at one time threatened to be such a nuisance, is also finished now and is quite a success. By the time I am finished I shall have quite a store of jam in it. I hope to get about 150 pounds of plum jam made before the plums are over and that should last till the summer comes. I made a lot the last wet day we had. It’s far nicer than bought jam. Just after I wrote last, when I had got my hay ready to haul, we had torrents of rain, so that most of last week was spent trying to get the hay dry again; and now I have got half of it in and the glass has gone down with a run, so it will probably rain again before I get finished.
You seem to be great cricketers at Stow. I had no idea the scoring ran so high in Ladies’ Cricket. I suppose as a matter of fact bowling is their weak point and possibly catching, which accounts for the scores being so big. I have an inkling I had better try some other topic or I shall put my foot in it.
It is really unfortunate for you that the Wittses are leaving Fosse Cottage. Perhaps somebody else will take pity on you and give you tea. You and your hockey days–I wonder how often I have hovered round about Stow on hockey days just on the chance of seeing you in the distance. I wonder if you remember the time you gave me a lift in a snowstorm down to Little Barrow. My luck was in that day, right enough. I didn’t doubt but that I should find you driving back alone and sure enough you did. I believe it was one of the few occasions when you did come back alone. It was a very short drive after all, but if you only knew what it meant to me.
When I think of last winter and the summer I hope to have next year, I feel like the little boy: “Jam yesterday and jam tomorrow but no jam today.” Consequently, “today” is rather uninteresting. Rather a vulgar simile, I am afraid, but it isn’t often that I break out into such things, so please excuse. I am wondering now whether I shall get a letter next week or will you carry out your threat and make me wait a fortnight too. You mustn’t really. I want your letters too badly, so please be merciful.
Have you started cubbing yet? I believe you told me once that you didn’t start till they met at a more reasonable hour. I should think that time has come by now and I suppose you are back from your sojourn on the moors, where doubtless you made a point of getting up early. If I was home and you would get up, I could imagine worse things than cubbing.
With all my love,
Yours as always,
Robin