Leisurely Letters

Dominion, Volume 30, Issue 153, 25 March 1937, Page 6

Leisurely Letters

Patsy tells her friend Tanya that casual invitations arc dan- ' gcrous things to drop . . . in case they are picked up.

My dear. I find just living is a real trial these days. Isn't it queer that when you do have time to spare in the holidays the hardest thing is to prevent other people spending it for you? I had all sorts of plans at Christinas about what I was going to do in January, and how I was going to catch up on mending Mike’s socks and perhaps a few of his shirts ami make four new frocks for myself in the long summer evenings. And here it is Raster, and all I have had time to do is sow the lace on one petticoat and buy Mike some new socks at the sales.

What can a girl do. even with the best Intentions in the world and only a small flat? People are so friendly ami Mike says far too gregarious or something. They simply flock to Wellington, and all with the idea that they are the first to leave the home town for months, so just hurstiiiff to find a new audience for gossip that the people at home are sickened of hearing. Lately the whole world seems to have been dropping on my poor bald head. Like bricks, only, of course, you can't throw them out. Besides they sound so lost when they ring that, you feel bound to do something tor them, although I think politeness is very often wasted. But Mike says lawyers’ wives must observe etiquette, which is making people feel at home even when yon wish they were. Of course, darling, in principle I do believe that visitors aren’t much fun unless you put yourself out for them. Don’t you? Such a good excuse for eating enormous and thrilling meals and doing things you could never afford to do every day. And Mike says he is getting quite used to sleeping on the sola now, and lias trained his mind so well that it takes him only a couple of hours to drift off into fitful slumber. Which lie claims is a triumph of mind over mattress, but it seems rather a long time to me. Still, I’m glad he likes tlie sofa now, he was quite rude about it at first.

Even I thought things were going too far altogether when Paula Blogg rang me yesterday and left a pause on the phone, so that I had to take it up and ask her to come to see us. Not as if Paula and I were ever friends. Only 1 dimly remember saying to her once. "You must come and see me when you pass through Wellington.” Just finishing the conversation neatly, you see, and never dreaming that, she would take it as genuine. “What, shall we do with them. Mike?” I asked in tile middle of bis dinner. “They’re going at six o’clock on Sunday morning, so we had better make an effort on Saturday.”

“Let's do something different," lie said. “Let's see! We took the (Jordons to the zoo, and the gardens can’t have changed much since we went there last week with I he Ponders. And we've visilvd all the beaches within reasonable distance, and I don't feel the Bloggs would enjoy climbing Tinakori Hills ami Mount. Crawford as

those energetic honeymooners made.us do.” . , , . i Naturally, ,E did not suggest the Art Gallery, because, of. course, it's wonderful." but I -don't think I could bear to see it again for at least a fortnight, anyway, not just the Maori section and the animals, and two glances ,at the shells ami the pictures. Besides, the carillon tower makes me dizzy. “The only thing to do is to hire n a .ear,” said Mike. “After all. they will only be here one day, and 1 suppose we ought to do something decent for them. It would be boring to have them for dinner. Charlie is such a dull dog.” Anyway, Paula talks of nothing but her children and stale gossip. So we hired a car and Mike had a hot argument with the men, thinking he was cheated, but discovered afterward it was all n mistake .and had to apologise. We thought we would go to Waikanae for a picnic, the glass being high, but Paula said she would get carsick unless she sat in the front. Apparently she had been simply i/earning to visit the scenes of her childhood at: Kilbirnie, and was quite ruffled when I said, quite innocently, that 1 expected it would have changed a groat deal in the last fifty years. Still. 1 do think her kittenishness is a fatal blunder.

All tin; same, it cnst a sort o£ cloud. over the picnic, and Mike fell into one of his .awful silent moods when his thoughts are all too obvious, and I got so tired listening to Paula on the subject of her brats, that, my replies musthave seemed rather cool. Of course, we got home in the end. My dear, what a day 1 I could hardly keep my eyes open, and Charlie’s masnice jolies couldn't bring a erack to my face. But as we came near home T pulled myself together and chatted merrily knowing it could only go on for 15 "minutes longer. “My dear, it has been wonderful to see you and get all the news,' T prattled to Paula, “f'lich a pity you couldn't stay longer. We could have <irr*iߣ?P<l BBOther outincr to-morrow. It’s sure to bo fine. The trouble is. people simply fly through Wellington.” And on and on. You know how pleasant you get. on stations and lastminute places. I get quite fond of the most hopeless people when they show signs of going away. Well, T.any.n darling, you can guess what happened. This morning Paula rang to say the salesman who was driving them north was held up until to-morrow. And Isold, “Oh! (pause). How wonderful! Thou we will see von again?” And now Mike says he's going to play golf all day. Sometimes he can be absolutely beastly. Your unhappy.