November 1st, Friday
I do not honestly know how I am going to write a daily diary in this place. Although I like it immensely the monotony is extreme and though my days are full to the brim I don’t think a diary stuffed with gardening, women visiting, housekeeping and charity garment sewing would be very interesting! This day I did do something interesting and went to lunch with Lady Thomas over at Netheravon and there I met Sir Edmund Antrobus who is at present fighting Major Geddes on account of Harriers which he says have seriously damaged his property and he has written to all authorities and the most insulting letters to poor Major Geddes. However to me he was most affable. On the way we met two traction engines and the horse was terrified. Coming home we met two more and this time the net result was a broken shaft.
November 2nd, Saturday.
As we leave for Springfield on Monday I have been busy settling up and arranging things against my absence. This morning was occupied with writing letters, interviewing nurses, and doing the church flowers. I had intended to do “women” after lunch but Poggy wouldn’t let me so I lazed instead. I had letters from our dear things from Port Said today, they were having the most awfully rough weather, two port holes had got smashed in and a lady occupant got her head cut open.
Warwick did not turn up this morning so we couldn’t go to church as he had all Herbert’s uniform locked up. We went in the evening and had a cheery little service held in the gym.
Nov 4th, Monday
Warwick appeared this morning. It seems he took H’s bicycle last night to go home and ran over a man, consequently coming to grief. I think it was awful cheek his taking H’s machine and of course he smashed that as well as himself. Very busy packing to go to Springfield, started at 1.0 and got down by tea time.
(Springfield House, Chelmsford)
We all went to the Chrysanthemum show. I felt deadly tired and didn’t enjoy it.
Nov 7th, Thursday
In bed with a violent cold. Mary is fussing over everything so fearfully that she is driving me mad. (Mary is Herbert’s sister).
I hear from home that my dreadful old cook has been drinking again. I am so upset as of course I must write and give her notice and I have no notion where on earth to get another.
Nov 12th, Tuesday
A clear day. Being Tuesday Mother has gone to church. Mary is in bed with a headache. Mary and Gertie went out last night in the fog to an Established Church Union meeting and in consequence Mary is incapacitated. The children are playing in a most happy way with bricks, a tea set and the inevitable counters and halma men, singing loudly to themselves and making odd and quaint remarks.
I have left out all this time because the days follow one another here in meaningless sequences and nothing ever happens. Mary left on her visits on 18th. She was unbearable all that week and I got sick of it and quite ill and nervy in consequence. She does not return until Monday so we shan’t see very much more of turmoils and tussels (sic). These people are so full of their millions of relations and all their different ailments and one gets stuffed with church matters and no other subject is ever discussed.
We sent off all our Xmas parcels to India this week and shall have thousands of letters to write next week to various lonesomes.
Nov 30th, Saturday
This day the Bishop of Colchester’s wife called. She is stone deaf, came at 4.0 and stayed indefinitely all of which time she took an active part in the conversation and someone had perpetually to be spitting down her ear trumpet. Most trying.