book report day - My Three Fathers

Many of my favorite bloggers are fellow unabashed Anglophiles who periodically dip their toes into the heady mythology of upper class life, literature and mores of between the wars Britain. Today's recommendation has all that and spades. For added inducement, Mr. Patten offers a look at big time American WASP life with a bit of Washington/Georgetown politics thrown in for good measure.

If this is your cuppa tea let me suggest "My Three Fathers" by William Patten.

As the title suggests, the book is about his three fathers, but more importantly his mother, Susan Mart Alsop.

Father number 1 was Bill Patten, a minor American diplomat, New England WASP.

Father 2, his stepfather, Joseph Alsop, cousin of the Roosevelt's, long time syndicated political columnist.

Father 3, and unknown by the author until he was 40, his biological father, Duff Cooper, British war hero, Ambassador, legendary Lothario, and husband of Lady Diana Cooper, the most sought after hostess of her day.

Interwoven is his mother, noted Washington hostess, and novelist Susan Mary Alsop, descendant of the Jay family of American jurists, ambassadors, statesmen. Susan Mary had a gift for knowing everyone, and everything, and keeping it all under her hat.

You know the thrill of picking up a book, reading the blurb on the inside front cover, and saying to yourself, if this guy can write, I'll be up all night. This guy can write, I was up all night.

It is a fascinating family memoir, warts and all of his extraordinary family, an insight into post WW II history and strongly recommended.

Toad

Katy Day

Firstborns do not come with instruction manuals.

Too young couples are left to their own devices to figure out how to make the best of their new situations. We hadn't a clue.

Mercifully, infants are hearty and resilient souls and our daughter Katy not only rolled but prospered. From the moment of her birth she was queen bee. First child, first grandchild, first daughter in my family for many years. Later, as the only girl in a house of boys, she continuously made it clear she was no body's mouseburger.

While it often doesn't seem so at the time, children grow up too quickly.

In honor of her birthday today I present this photo extravaganza. Many of these photos I remember like yesterday.










Mercifully, she is on a beach somewhere on holiday and won't see this post for several days. Time enough for me to make my escape.

Happy Birthday Dahlink.

Toad

Shoe Queen

To quote the inimitable Governor of the great state of California, "I am a shoe queen." Second or third class in my case, but one none the less.

For fall and winter I favor chucka boots. Gotta be suede, gotta be hard soled. Brothel creepers are for spring and summer.

After about a minutes hesitation I picked up a pair of Bass Binghamptons yesterday. The color is browner than the photo shows, almost a snuff. After a strong coat of Scotch Guard they'll stand up to whatever winter throws my way.

Great shoes? No way, but they fit well and go with everything in my wardrobe. Who can ask for anything more?

Toad

Decadence

I am longing for a road trip, although none is in the offing anytime soon.

One of my life's greatest decadent pleasures while traveling is stopping for breakfast in a small town, far from home. To you it may be a simple pleasure, but for me it is an entire reason to hop into the car, and head off to parts far away.

I love the ambiance of small town cafes, being the unknown outsider in a place where everyone knows each other, listening to the farm report and local gossip. Lingering over a newspaper filled with stories from place names I have never heard of, and people I'll never hear of again.

Best of all who can wreck breakfast? I've only had one bad one. In a pinch I landed in a Waffle House, late Sunday morning near Asheville. I knew better, I did it anyway, I paid the price.

Always, if made in the back, you need to order a slice of pie to end your meal.

Toad

WW II in HD

I have been watching WW II in HD on the History Channel the past several evenings.

If you haven't been watching, it is much like the wars shows when we were kids, Victory at Sea, World at War and the like, only unsanitized and in color.

Using narrated letters home to personalize the combatants, the film is moving in its purity and ugliness.

My point today is not to shill for a television program, but to suggest that if you know one, talk to a veteran this Thanksgiving. My father and uncles served in WW II and when prodded wouldn't (couldn't) talk about their time in uniform. I feel I missed a lot.

Our brothers, sisters and cousins who have served in conflicts since have stories that deserve hearing. We owe it to them to listen.

Toad

This years project

Each year Mrs. T hosts a Christmas Eve dinner party for family and friends. We plan for about 50 people, get a pre-party head count well below that number, and somehow 50 show up. It's become a tradition.

Another tradition is that sometime around now, one of us will think up a new house project that just has to be concluded before the big event. Last year was a fairly insignificant crown moulding installation. Drum roll please, this year I am proud to announce our holiday project is hallway wainscoting.

I blame nerd girl, Mrs. Blandings for this years project. Her new stair runner photo set off a chain of events which can only mean several napless days and sleepless nights.

I spent most of the afternoon measuring and blocking projected panel sizes and locations. I was having trouble on the stairway until I remembered stair panels are not truly rectangular.

Hopefully, we shall be completed in time. We always are, but the added anxiety always makes for holiday fun.

Toad

History is written by the winners

While you are preparing for your traditional Thanksgiving school pageant its good to remember a little American History.

Americans tend to believe that the first European settlers to hit what is now the continental US were those dastardly, witch baiting Pilgrims who arrived near Plymouth Rock, Mass. Not true. Tidewater Virginians duel over less slanderous allegations.

Englishmen hit Jamestown settlement, in what is now Virginia in May, 1607, a good 13 years before Pilgrims came to our shores. In one of the great coincidences in history, the Jamestown settlers were met by English speaking natives. The natives learned English during the time of the earlier lost Roanoke settlement. One of the natives first questions was "Did you bring beer?" True story.

Those in the west often take a longer view of history than those in the east. Plymouth Rock and all their shenanigans is a long way from the Pacific. Westerners have a completely different dynamic than Virginians or Mass Bay colonists.

Those west of Denver know the Spanish were there first. Spanish explorers came to America 40 years ahead of the English. So successful were their explorations that Sante Fe,New Mexico had a large and growing population when in 1607, several months prior to the Jamestown landing, it was named capital of the Spanish New Mexico territory,

Easterners have a truly tough time wrapping that idea around their brains.

With a little more work on behalf of the Spanish, we might be enjoying tacos and dramas about Coronado instead of turkey and Pilgrims.

Toad