Jon, Sue and Trevor

It is wonderful to have family here for Christmas.  My brother and his wife Sue, and Trevor all arrived two days ago from Las Vegas.  Trevor is leaving Christmas Day, Jon and Sue on New Year's Eve.   

Mack, Heather and Todd are visiting Brianne and David in Shelton, and Daisy is courageously carrying on with three children and possibly no husband for Christmas, but that is the Navy and we are grateful for their service.

Wendy and Michel are taking a break from work and enjoying their two sons, Alex and Matthew, in Paris.   Alex has another semester to go at MIT, but Matthew will be finished his undergraduate training in the spring.  He has been offered serval positions, but has made no decisions as of this date. 

Wendy and Michel have been invited to a wedding in India, and then will vacation in the area before returning to Paris.  

Jane reported that her father's 90th birthday celebration was lots of fun.  All well there apparently.  

Brianne and David are enjoying their rapidly growing young man, Maddox.  He rushed to greet his father's return one day recently, saying "Da Da Da, REINDEER!  They have been reading him reindeer stories.

Its ben a good year for me.  I am currently in several exercise classes, tap dance class, Glenaires, a ukulele class, and preparing for a Revue in March in which I dance and sing!!.  Haven't been this involved in show biz since college.  Some of us went to the Moscow Ballet performance of The Nutcracker in San Diego a couple of days ago.  

The Glenaires had their Season Concert which was videotaped.  If you are interested I will try to send you a copy.  We sang, "All I Want is a Hippopotamus for Christmas".  Check it out. Its quite a popular song, apparently.

Hope everyone has a wonderful Christmas and the best New Year ever.  Love to all,   Val

Vancouver 1941

My mother and I, together with Irene and Betty Robertson sailed together on the Hiye Maru from Yokohama to Vancouver in March of 1941.

We had been to Vancouver the year before and I was excited to be back in this beautiful country.  Stanley Park had towering eucalyptus trees with the strong scent I remembered so well.  There were totem poles and walking paths.  Then there was English Bay, the lovely protected beach I had played on the summer before.


I was in third grade, having learned so much in the six months of Sacred Heart Cathoic School that they moved me up from what otherwise should have been second grade.  I could write in cursive, could read well and made friends with some very nice girls. They were all of well-to-do families since the neighborhood was wealthy, and I was invited to birthday parties at some pretty fancy homes.  

But there was a war on.  Pearl Harbor was alarming.  My mother moved us to an apartment when things got impossible at the Klaugsey's.  I remember my eighth birthday, July 31, on the sunny front lawn, being "bumped" eight times, and one for good luck!  Held by hands and feet, the birthday girl was lowered to the ground and up again by friends, nine times.  

remember blackout curtains on all the windows, and air raid drills.  Would they strike Vancouver next?

That Christmas all I wanted was a rubber doll that could be fed with a bottle and wet at the other end.  This was before plastic was invented, and all rubber was scarce, needed for the "war effort" for tires etc.

My mother managed to find such a doll, with moveable arms and legs that could be bathed and fed and diapered like a real baby.  She would sit in the little kitchen and make beautiful knitted and sewn doll clothes, while I slept.  That was a special Christmas.  I called my doll Heidi after the Spyri heroine of the same name.  I played with her for hours.



Birthday Party                           York House



Being bumped.

Thanksgiving 2018

We had a grat family gathering at Mack's house this Thanksgiving.  Unfortunately Ian could not leave his ship, but called us and we got to wish him Happy Thanksgiving.

Heather and Todd had already arrived early Tuesday morning at Mack's place.  Mack picked up Daisy, Richard, Cassie and baby Genevieve at the San Diego airport where they had flown in from SeaTac.  Wednesday was busy getting turkey, potatoes and other wonderful things prepared for the big feast on Thursday.  Trevor set up my Christmas tree on the patio which lights up from dusk to dawn.  Robyn helped decorate  including the bird feeder, and wrought iron 'birdcage'.  

On Thursday, noonish, Trevor, Robyn and I drove to Mack's house on Indio Way.  It was a beautiful day, with a great view from the back garden over the canyon.  We sat around Mac's new table with enough chairs for all, most of them matching.  Todd showed us his rare rock collection and Heather showed pictures of her latest quilt.  Richard has grown several inches since I last saw him. He played "baby fights back" with his tiny sister.  Cassie did backbends on the living room carpet and made a chain necklace from yarn. Baby Genevieve lay watching it all.  She is very calm and doesn't mind being picked up and held by complete strangers.  She is the perfect baby, (not like I remember her grandmother being!) but perhaps that is due to Daisy's style of mothering which is very relaxed. She gave me a big beaming smile.  I will call her Sweet Pea.

On Friday Mack and the Indio gang came to La Costa Glen, picked up some Christmas presents for the Washington State members of the family.  Then we all walked over to the forum, Daisy wheeling Genevieve in her stroller.  She slept most of the afternoon and was, again, the perfect baby.

Heather found she had lost a whole size from previous shopping trip to Talbots.  Mack bought a leaf blower.  Trevor bought some cooking necessities at Sur La Table.  Robyn a gift for me, some very cheerful tea towels that look great in my kitchen.  We all strolled over to Casa de Bandini where Trevor had made a reservation.  We ate outside, a bit chilly at first but as more people showed up it was very comfortable.  Then back home for everyone because Daisy and kids had to leave early, early. and Heather and Todd had a long drive.

 Trevor, Cassie on his back, Todd and Heather and I went to Best Buy for a Black Friday adventure.  Big line up.  Orderly chaos.  Heather bought a new cell phone at a very good price.  Not sure I would want to do it again.

It was a wonderful get together, and everyone got home safely, although Heather and Todd got into heavy traffic and arrived about 4:00 am.

Full speed ahead to Christmas!

The Day We Met

October 28 was more celebrated than our wedding anniversary because of the strange circumstances that brought us together.

It was my sophomore year and a group of girls decided to go to the away football game in Kingston, Ontario.  McGill lost, and the student union had rented a room in a Kingston hotel for the McGill fans to party after the gam, to celebrate or commiserate as the case might be.

My friend Marybel, a former roommate at Netherwood had a date, but another girl and I didn't, so we went with her as "blind dates".  We were staying together in a nearby dormitory provided for visiting college students.  

McGill lost.  

Marybel was very tall and the other girl very short.  The three of us walked in together and Robin, sitting with his friend Ted Alexnder on the bed (the room was small), said, 

"I'll take the one in the middle".  

This fact I learned later.  Robin was 19, I was 17.  He was a prankster and, with limited knowledge of chemistry, liked to make things that exploded.  His father had died several weeks before.  He had just recovered from mumps, and he and his girlfriend had broken up.  On top of it he had a bad cold, and his brother, an aspiring doctor, had given him a new drug called antihistamine. 

Robin had brought a flask of scotch, and poured some for me.  The  he went to the window, which overlooked a courtyard.  He dropped something out of the window and there was a little explosion.  No one seemed very impressed.  He was by now getting a little fuzzy because the combination of scotch and antihistamine was affecting his brain.  I suggested we go outside to get some fresh air.  It didn't help much.  I kept saying , "Robin Mackay do you want to go home, I'll call a taxi.  "

He kept saying," The woman I marry is going to be a virgin!"  

A taxi materialized and we got in, I directing the driver to my lodging, with some extra money to then take this besotted character to where ever he was staying.  He could not remember where that was, so the taxi driver took him to a nearby hospital.  He walked in, announcing,

"I'm not drunk," and passed out in the lobby.

His friends, Stan Grossman and Ted Alexander looked all over town and finally found him.  

When I got home the next day my mother was quite agitated.  

"Are you all right? Someone named Robin Mackay has been calling and calling."  

""Oh, him," I said contemptuously, "Yes I'm fine, had a good time."

There was a place near the campus where students gathered to eat and mingle, called the McGill Student Union.  I was walking by a table some weeks later and spotted Robin, chomping into a sandwich.  

"Hello, Robin Mackay, " I said.  He nearly choked on the sandwich.

He called me for a date the next weekend, and having just got rid of my last boyfriend, Peter Williams, (to Marybel) I accepted, since not other prospect came along.

This is a true story, which Robin and I would tell in all its gory details over the years, when the subject came up.

Leslie Redvers

He was named  after a famous general of the time but there is no Redvers in Wilde ancestry that I know of.  He was very proud of the classy name and, I suspect, considered himself of very good lineage.  He had a rather lordly manner, and would give lavish tips which he could hardly afford.  "Here, my good man," he would say.  My mother would say "Oh, LES!"  He had no sense of money, and therefore suffered from lack of it most of his post Japan life.  He was adamant on one matter.  He would not allow my mother to work.

He had a very intense, even high strung personality.  He spoke very loudly. There is a photograph of him, taken on their honeymoon in Japan, that my mother titled "the big noise".  

He loved a party, and liked an occasional drink or smoke, although he was not addicted in any way to either alcohol or tobacco.  He referred to a lively party as "High Jinks" when it was time for "Jollification".  I have never heard these expressions elsewhere, but may be common in England. He used them often.

Not in any way an athlete, he kept himself in good physical condition by long-strided walks, and was never still for very long while awake.  He ate prodigious amounts of my mother's mince pies, and never gained an ounce.  When he slept, almost nothing could wake him.He took great interest in my physical development as a child.  

When I was about four he had a swinging gym installed in the fenced-off side yard, and I would happily swing from hand to hand like a monkey.  I remember hanging from my knees as well.  I was encouraged to do backbends, handstands and headstands.  He would remind me to pull my shoulders back.  My mother, even then, had a slight dowager's hump, and he wanted none of that for his daughter.  He was horrified at my tiny appetite and would bellow, "Eat up your food!" when I left some on my plate.

The Man My Mother Married

Leslie Redvers Wilde was one of six children, born in Birkenhead, England. Leslie grew up the youngest.  "Little Leslie " he was called. There was a younger child, "Chris Pet" who died very early and another girl who was hushed up as a disgrace to the family! He had two older sisters, Isobel and Elizabeth, and an older brother Leyland.

His father was a successful businessman, making hats for gentlemen, with two shops in the area of Liverpool.  I never met either of his parents, but did correspond with his sisters Bess and Belle.  Their beaux had died in WWI and so they remained single the rest of their lives.  The stayed in Liverpool and ran the business.  His brother Leyland died young, but bore one son, David who I did meet on a trip back to England.  David had four children, one of whom, Paul, I still correspond with.  Paul has no children. He is married to a Chinese national and they live near London.

Leslie grew up in a musical environment.  Bess and Belle played either organ or piano, and his brother played the nearby church organ professionally.  Leslie had music training, and played the violin professionally I believe. He believed a good education was of the utmost importance, and would speak of the value of a "well furnished mind".  He was thrilled when David earned a PhD in Physics, and later taught at Bristol University.  He was the first member of the family to attain a college degree.

Leslie was devastatingly handsome, and lived an adventurous life, dating a Russian ballerina while traveling in Russia.  He had a good ear for languages, and picked up a bit of Russian, as well as Japanese, a good imitation of Hitler's blusterings, but only a smattering of French, Italian or other 'educated' languages. Of the classics, he did not know Greek, but had acquired some Latin in school. At one point I believe he took elocution lessons to achieve a perfect BBC accent which never left him.  He had training in the violin and could play the piano effortlessly to the day he died.  He could get a roomful of people gathered around the piano to sing, and could transpose to any key.  

Unfortunately, when I told him I would be taking Algebra next term, he tried his best to help me.  We were equally puzzled at how x + 1 squared could end up so complicated!   He also bought me a chemistry set when I was about ten.  I thought they had made spelling errors because some of the chemicals had 'ite' and others 'ate' at the end.  

Family News

Bri and David and Maddox came to visit last weekend.  The flew in from SeaTac late Friday and Mack picked them up and made them comfortable at his house.  In the morning he drove them to La Costa Glen where we had lunch and a tour of the campus.  Then we piled into the Porsche and drove to the Scripps Aquarium.  After that we drove to the nearby Bataquitos Lagoon, a reclaimed junk pond that is now cleaned by the ocean tides and has become a nature preserve.  We walked a little way on the path, but unfortunately the museum had closed.  

We ate dinner at Casa de Bandini, and Maddox behaved beautifully.  Its a busy place and he loves to watch people.  Then Mack drove them home in his car.   

Since we can't all fit in his car, I was wondering how we would get to our breakfast rendezvous at The Broken Yolk, a bit far to walk with a baby.  Mack had it all figured out however, and we went in two cars!   He makes everything so smooth.

We did not get to do the famous brunch this time, but there is always next visit.  Before it was time to leave for the plane we returned the Porsche to its garage, and took Maddox to see the waterfall and koi pond and its two giant turtles.  He had a glorious run along the path, stopping to slap the bushes along the way.  He does not walk, he runs!  Weighs 30 lbs.  Has a reddish cast to his hair. So much fun to have a great grandson.
 

We had a lovely weekend, but Monday is back to school for Bri and David, and work for Mack.  And I will have to get back to Sandon Studio blogs, which Wendy is helping me research.   

Commendatory Address for G.H.Parry

By the Dean of Liverpool

In the silence which we are about to observe, I bid you company with the spirit of him whose body only has died and is this day brought into our Cathedral where we indeed honour ourselves in honoring him.

Children of the tenements libraries did not know as we older ones knew where to find the spirit that delighted itself in kindliness, scorning his own personal rights and dignities where they endangered the setting of the young upon adventures of knowledge and beauty.

To be a scholar, he would say to them as he shewed them where to find the beginning of the royal road, is to be a man who has never grown up - who is always growing - who bears the marks of unwearying patience and takes his delight in hopefulness and who with infectious courage adventures in all kingdoms of knowledge and beauty.

George Parry acted out his dreams, whilst many of us discussed with concern the problem of unemployment he took from it the sting of stigma by regarding the unemployed as men and women of leisure, shewing to them where lay the key of the treasures of the deep.

The corporate honor of the City was so safe in his hands and was consistently enhanced by his service, for he could not if he tried stoop so low as to be meticulous for his personal privileges to the corporate loss.

He desired no honor apart from his City; his loyalty was such that you could not separate him from those set over him or under him, or from the students who were his joy.

Arnold Bennett was right about G.H. Parry "if his workshop was set amid the most beautiful architectural surroundings, his service matched them well."

'Tis true, he knew to our inestimable advantage all the treasures of literature and art that were stored in the vast Library entrusted to his care.  I often took delight in testing his knowledge of the City's good possessions. 'Tis true that he had an uncanny power of sensing and proving books for our Libraries Committee; by this our City has secured for future generations such a collection of books on art and knowledge  from paleolithic times to our own as is quite unequalled outside the British Museum.  By these it was his delight to whet the appetite of the sons of our city and he succeeded more than most men.  He was forever gathering men and women of Merseyside into habits of circulating the joys of the artists and craftsmen: he was a human pivot for all seekers of beauty and knowledge, and above all he was gifted with that awareness of spirit which recognises and is recognised by all true seekers.

With him it was possible to become acquainted with the best of the City - the best books and the best persons for any adventure of the spirit found in him an encourager who could and would apprise its highest value and welcome its most constructive possibilities.  He had no time for ferreting out evil; so absorbed was he in discovery and attracting attention to the beautiful.  He taught us us how like a child at first wonder, like a king at last to rest.

G.H.Parry continued

G.H. was an artist although he made his living as a librarian.  This is the only graphic example of his artistry that I possess.    He also worked in metals, copper boxes and jewelry out of precious metals.  He made a gold pendant with an opal set into an intricate design.  The piece was unfortunately stolen from our house in Palos Verdes in 1981.  

He died in 1933, the year of my birth.  He knew of my arrival and sent a drawing of a young man with a scythe over his shoulder, sketched by the famous Liverpool artist George Harris, a friend of my grandfather's.  He wrote " To Valerie, on the occasion of her birth."  It hangs today in my bedroom in La Costa Glen.

My grandfather was sufficiently prominent in Liverpool society that he was honored with a memorial service at the Liverpool Cathedral and a commendatory address delivered by the Very Reverend Dean of Liverpool on September 20, 1933.  If you wish to read it it is on a separate blog entitled Commendatory Address.

My Grandfather, G.H.Parry The Sandon Studio

This is a quote from page 120 of a book entitled "The Sandon Studio Society and the Arts": 

"During the year a fine, imaginative gesture was made to a struggling artist on the streets of Liverpool.  The Hon. Treasurer, G.H. Parry, walking between the club and the Picton Library where he was Deputy Chief Librarian, noticed how shabby the outfit of Professor Codman, who directed the Punch and Judy show in Lime Street, had become.  In talking to the Professor he learned that, owing to inability to replace his booth, this unique entertainment might have to be disbanded.  Parry raised the matter at an executive meeting and there was enthusiasm for raising a fund and providing a new outfit.  It was decided to ask for subscriptions amounting to L 50." My father, at the time of this reference, had apparently not achieved the rank of Chief Librarian of the Liverpool Library.  

My mother would talk of his love for the Sandon Studio.  There was a large white wall in one room where the graphic artists were invited to doodle,  resulting, no doubt, in a fascinating composite of work by the top artists of Liverpool at that time.



Drawing by G.H.Parry

Gladys Catherine Parry...continued

She met my handsome, dashing father when she was in her twenties.  He too loved travel and adventure, and worked for the Canadian Pacific Steamship Company.  He too had been born in the Liverpool area.   Their paths did not cross again for another 8 years.  When they found each other again, where or how I do not know, it was summer, 1932.   My father proposed, and offered a life of ease in Japan, where he worked for the CPR in Yokohama. CPS was a subsidiary of CPR, and employees had full reciprocal travel privileges on trains, and ships.  

My mother accepted, although she had two other proposals at the time.  My father remarked many years later that she 'didn't want him to get away again!'

G.H. was not too happy about his daughter's decision.  They were married in Japan, on September 22,  and honeymooned in Nikko.  Her father sent her return passage to England in case it didn't work out.  He also sent her a gold soverign , worth quite a lot in those days, 'in case she should ever be in need'.  She never needed it, and I have it to this day.

They leased a western style bungalow on the bluffs of Yokohama, overlooking the bund.  It had a screened porch in front, a living room, separate dining room and kitchen.  There were three bedrooms, one bathroom and servants' quarters in the back.  There was a landscaped garden in front with a high wall.  A fenced in side garden, and a wonderful view of the harbor.  

We had two servants, a married couple that lived in an unbelievably small room with a woven straw mat floor.  They slept on a futon which was aired in the sun, and rolled into the closet during the day.  They ate from a low table and knelt on cushions on the floor to eat.  We called the wife Ahmah-San.  She did the shopping, cleaning and some cooking.  Her husband kept the garden trim, attended to household chores, and also fancied himself a gourmet chef.  One time he served lamb chops for company, french style with the fringed paper 'panties' on the ends.  My father had a temper tantrum.  Nothing that effeminate was to be served in HIS house!

My mother soon became pregnant, and I was born the following July.  In the summer the Westerners living in Yokohama went to the mountains to escape the heat of the city.  The wives and children would stay for the summer and the husbands would return each weekend.  Everyone travelled by train. No one had cars.  Our transport was, besides trains, bicycles , shank's mare and an occasional taxi or rickshaw ride.  I was born in a sanitarium in the beautiful mountain resort of Karuizawa in the Japanese Alps. After it closed  my birth records were sent to Tokyo where they are to this day.

Gladys Catherine Parry Wilde

She was born in Birkenhead, April 28, 1900.   Her father from a poor Welsh family, was educated by a wealthy benefactor, along with this man's son.  They were tutored, so George Henry Parry never went to college.  When he aspired to be Chief Librarian of the Liverpool Library he was at first denied, not for merit, but because he did not have a sheepskin.   

He married a woman I know very little about.  She had been a seamstress before her marriage, and taught my mother many professional tricks for making slipcovers, drapes and tailored garments.  

My mother had a brother, Norman, younger by 8 years.  She did not talk much about her growing up years.  One recollection was washday, when their middle class family did the week's wash.  They had a large tin washtub with a fire under it to heat the water.  A washerwoman came to help them scrub, rinse, wring out and hang the sheets, towels and underclothing of a respectable Victorian family of four.  I do not know if any other relatives lived with them.

By the 1890's my mother must have been a trial to her father.  She wanted to cut her hair.  He refused while under his roof.  Yet in all my early days in Japan she spoke with great affection and pride about her father, G.H. as he was called. Women were not usually college educated in those days, but I once asked her what she would have taken if she had gone to college.  She said, "Science."  Chemistry and Botany were of great interest.

She longed to travel. She wanted a career and adventure.  She was given the opportunity to attend a secretarial school and was trained to a far higher standard than any such school today.  She could comfortably type 60 words per minute without a mistake.  She could out spell Webster's dictionary.  She knew Pitman shorthand and could record dictation  rapidly.  Perhaps with her father's influence, she managed the coveted position of "Lizzy Mint" on the Mauretaina, where her many skills were employed in the service of the ship's Captain as his personal secretary.  She sat at the Captain's table every night, entertained and wrote letters for his guests, met the likes of Charlie Chaplain and other luminaries crossing the Atlantic from New York to Liverpool.

One year the White Star Line, owner of the Mauretaina, decided to take the ship on a cruise to Egypt.  My mother would proudly relate that she had ridden a camel and visited the sensation of that day,  King Tut's Tomb.

She never experienced sea sickness, which meant she was often the only female in the ballroom after dinner, dancing with any handsome young man that could still stand.  In those days ship stabilizers were not what they are today, and a rolling sea could require fortitude.

She used to tell  of a storm so bad that the vessel had to be stopped to "heave to" bow into the wind, no forward way being possible.  She spoke of " a green one down the stack", good nautical-speak for a wave so high it sent water down one of the four smokestacks on the mighty Mauretania.  Adventure indeed.

My Father's Escape from Japan

I have very little information about how my father was able to rejoin us in Vancouver, in August of the year of the bombing of Pearl Harbor.

Apparently the men who were employed by the Canadian Pacific Steamship Company could not get passage out of Japan.  Many were stuck there and were interned in Japanese civilian concentration camps. There were no airplane flights.  All the passenger ships were moving troops. My mother and I were on the last passenger ship to leave Yokohama.  The Hiye Maru was soon after converted to a troop carrier.  All but 50 lbs. of baggage were allowed to leave the country.  Furniture, possessions,  all left behind.

Years later my father gave me a ring, a jade ring.  The story was that he had managed to purchase a jade stone with our remaining bank balance. But how to get it undetected out of the country? He had it set in a cheap ring.  When he crossed the border he turned the stone to the inside of his hand showing only a cheap metal band that no one at customs paid attention to. 

I know that he was able to get to a  friend in Shanghai. Somehow passage was arranged  to Vancouver.  Years later he told my brother Jonathan that he was able to sail from Shanghai on an American troop ship.

My birthday was on the 31 of July.  He sent me a poem to celebrate the occasion, a poem which suggested that he would join us soon.  I have it memorized.

"Won't it be lovely to meet again
Won't it be nice to say 'hello'?
You're growing bigger and bigger each day
Learning so much and delighting in play.
But after the fussing and excitement's about
All talking at once, no on listening no doubt
Time will pass quickly and 'fore anyone knows
Why bedtime is coming and sweet repose.

There'll be piggy back rides as of old, just for fun
And maybe after a story, dear one.
Then Mummy will shout out "Now Daddy, you know
Its terribly late, so don't be so slow."
So out go the lights and I give you a kiss,
For my precious is off to that land of sweet bliss."

The moment of his return that August night I was fast asleep.  I woke up the next morning in the Murphy bed in some astonishment.

Vancouver

This is about our life after my mother and I left Japan. It was March of 1941 when we arrived in Vancouver.  My mother and Mrs. Robertson knew the area around English Bay, since we had been there the year before.  But we had no connections, no friends or relatives to take us in.  There was certainly no welcome. I remember going from apartment house to apartment house only to be told that they didn't take children.  We finally found a dreadful place, a basement apartment near English Bay.  The concrete walls were garishly painted red.  

I do not remember going to school when we first arrived,  but that summer I played on the beach of English Bay.  Perhaps I  had met Peter the summer before.  He was my age, 7.   Peter, Irene, Betty and I with a gang of kids found pieces of driftwood  and assembled them into little airplanes. My mother would dig herself a hole in the sand, put a beach towel down, and settle herself comfortably on it.  She folded origami propellors for our airplanes.  We would then run as fast as we could holding the planes overhead to make the propellors spin.  There were other emigres on the beach and my mother always seemed to have companions to talk to as the women sat and watched the children play.

Peter's mother lived in a large house in Shaughnessy Heights.  Her husband was a drunkard, so to pay the bills for her family of six, she opened a day care center in her home.  There were two older children, a boy and a girl, and one younger than Peter.  Dawn was three and had been born deaf.  The doctorswere able to restore some hearing, but she was, as we would say, 'language impaired'.  I was  fascinated that a three year old talked like a toddler.  She would say "Muk, Dawnie,"  when she wanted for milk.

My resourceful mother offered her services to Peter's mother tohelp with cooking and cleaning, in exchange for a room in a nice neighborhood for herself and her daughter. Then, with  the Canadian Pacific Company's tiny stipend that was all we had to live on, she enrolled me in a private school, York House, still operating when Robin and I visited Vancouver recently.  This did not go well with the Klaugsey children, who thought I was 'stuck up.'  Since I didn't have much experience with the rough and tumble of a large family I endured the taunting silently.  I remember that Easter I received a large chocolate egg filled with candy.  Chocolate was becoming  a luxury due to wartime rationing.  The Klaugsey kids came into our room and stole the candy and some of the chocolate egg.  They called me 'brat'.  Poor little Valerie.


The Klaugsey family
York House was fun and I met some nice friends there.  I was put into third grade although chronologically it should have been second.  The six months I had with the nuns in Japan had prepared me well.  At York House we wore uniforms, the 'Royal' colors green and gold were our school colors.  We sang the school song, "Our royal colors green and gold, in honor and respect we hold.  Not for ourselves alone our aim, far greater these than wealth and fame." 

At recess we would play with our Bolo bats, a paddle with a ball attached by an elastic band.  I became quite skillful at it.  We would also throw and catch balls against a concrete wall.  The girls had a separate recess time from the boys. 

I especially remember  music theory class.  I learned about quavers, and semi-quavers, and even hemi-semi-demi-quavers!  I walked to and from the Klaugsey house every day, about a mile, and picked flowers from the well tended gardens to give to my mother, my best friend in the whole world..  I was invited to lots of birthday parties by the kids in my class. 

We finally moved out of the Klaugsey house into an apartment, with the Robertson's close by.  It had black cloth over all the windows, 'blackout curtains' .  There were regular air raid warnings.  There was a Murphy bed in the living room, but I slept with my mother in the one bedroom.

In the next apartment house was a 'rich' girl.  She had no mother, but lived with her father who bought fabulous clothes for her.  she had a beautiful white 'fancy ice skates' and aleopard skin fur coat!  She was not allowed to play with other children,  so I would go across the street to make houses in the high grass and imagine all manner of wonderful make believe things.  I felt rather sorry for her.

Wendy

Just talked to Wendy.  She is back from a trip to Genoa, and will go into a nearby clinic tomorrow to get ready for hip replacement surgery on July 3rd.  She will be home in a couple of days, and will need about two weeks of going easy on one side.  Coincidentally, Jane and Andrew are in Paris after a trip on the continent, staying in the Rue Ernst house but arriving just as Wendy is leaving!!  They will stay a couple of days, leaving Paris on Thursday.  Alex arrives on Friday!  What an amazing family.

More Japan stories coming soon.   Love to all,  Val

The Performance

The Hiye Maru took ten days to cross the Pacific ocean from Yokohama to Vancouver.   There were about twelve English speaking children traveling first class.  We met in the morning in a special room set aside for our age group, and an English speaking supervisor was assigned to us.  She was young and enthusiastic, and we were soon planning a show.  

But what to perform?  While suffering from some childhood ailment I had written a play to pass the time.  It was called "The Night of the Ball"  and was very lame indeed.  My father had had it printed out for his budding playwright and I submitted it for approval.  It was accepted!  I took the lead part of course.  Then there was a piano performance by one of us, and a skit.   I forget what else. After a couple of days we performed for a live audience.  We invited our parents and a few interested passengers.  Since there were no other diversions in that time of war, the turnout was bigger than expected.  We were urged to do a second performance.

The Captain, a kind Japanese man, who loved children of any description, decide to let us perform this time in the First Class lounge.  Her rigged two Japanese flags for our curtains.  He even went to the menu printing department and had programs printed with our names on it!   "The Night of the Ball" was printed, "by Valerie Wilde herself".  I thought that was stupid and redundant.  Why not just Valerie Wilde? But it was a theatrical tradition I had no inkling of.

In those day there were three classes, each one descending lower in the hull of the ship.  You could walk down the stairs,  but you weren't supposed to mix with the other classes.  However, on every landing there was a box into which you could put money for some charity.  

We decided to charge admission for our grand performance, with all the proceeds going to this charity.  The lovely Valerie in a long ball gown and her charming partner went to the ball, and everyone else did their star turn and it was over.  It was a huge success and the charity boxes were stuffed with donations.   

Thus we passed the time, happily oblivious to the gathering storm.

More Japan Exodus

It is difficult to write about such a tumultuous time from the vantage point of a seven year old.  The wagon trains crossing the plains to California faced many trials and hardships.  The adults suffered the toil and responsibilities with full awareness.  Young children and the elderly often died on the way.  The happiest travelers were the seven to ten year olds, too young to be be burdened with heavy duties, too young to worry about what might befall, but able and aware  enough enjoy the excitement of the journey.  

So it was that I, hungry for new adventure, found  the prospect of traveling across an ocean pleasurable and exciting.

It was not as if we didn't know a war was coming. When I was five Chamberlain had declared his famous 'peace in our time'  report to the British people.  No one wanted war of course.  Everyone wanted to just wish it away.

Besides Chamberlain, my parents discussed Hitler and Mussolini.  They were bad people.   There were other strangely named people we should hate; Hirohito, Tojo, Yamamoto, Goebbels, Schicklgruber, (Hitler's father's name until he changed it to Hitler).  My father,  would do an admirable impersonation of Hitler.  He would rumple up his dark hair, place something black under his nose to represent a mustache, and fulminate in tolerable German.  

The declaration of War by Britain and France in September 1939 was endlessly discussed by my parents and their British friends.  Evacuations were begun in Britain.  We had relatives in Liverpool, my father's sisters, Elizabeth and Isobel (Bess and Belle), his nephew David, my grandmother and uncle Norman and his wife and cousin Susan. As I have mentioned, in the summer of 1940 we tried to sail across the Atlantic to see them.  We were turned back.

So now in the early months of the year my parents made preparations for us to evacuate Japan.  For some reason my father was not allowed to leave, but 'women and children' were given a chance.  Somehow passage was arranged for my mother and I on the last ship leaving the port of Yokohama.  It was the Hiye Maru a Japanese ship with a Japanese Captain.  We were allowed fifty pounds of baggage each.  We left in the company of another family, the Robertsons, Mrs. Robinson, my friend Irene, and her older sister Betty. It was March of 1941.

I remember how the ship looked, tied at the Yokohama dock.  We boarded, and stood at the rail from the first class deck and helping ourselves to rolls of paper streamers passed around by the crew.  When the "All Ashore" was called visitors went down the gangplank back to the dock and mingled with the crowd that had gathered to see us depart.  My father was down there somewhere.  I could not see him.  We threw streamers down, holding one end as the roll unfurled, hopefully to be seized by a loved one on the pier.  A tangle of colored paper ribbons  bound us to the shore.  The ship's lines were  loosed, and the ship slowly began to inch forward.  The ribbons parted, a few at first, then more and more until no ties to the land remained.  My mother and I went to our cabin.  My mother was in tears.  Thoroughly alarmed, for I had never seen her cry, I said the stupid sort of thing that comes to a seven year old's mind.

"Don't be a baby!"

"I'm not a baby," said my mother.

Japan Exodus

I have been experiencing blog block, and a busy schedule here at La Costa Glen that makes creative time difficult.  So much for the excuses.

Considering how to approach this next phase, leaving Japan, I realized I would have to do some research into the years, months and weeks preceding Pearl Harbor.

As I have said, my parents and I went on a trip to Canada and the United States in the summer of 1940, but were thwarted in the original plan because civilian travel was no longer possible across the Atlantic.  Consequently I never saw the grandmother, aunts uncle and cousins we had planned to see.

Returning to Japan was a shock.  We no longer could live in the little bungalow, Ju Ichi Ban Yamato.  We moved a mile or so away to a Western multiplex , 234E. the Bluff.  We no longer had Japanese servants.  Jane Savory had bright red hair, and an illegitimate daughter. She was therefore unemployable as far as the Japanese were concerned.  My parents had no such scruples and she served us in the new quarters.  She and her daughter, Setseko  slightly younger than I, lived in the one room servants quarters at the back.  Years later I was able to track down her granddaughter, now in the United States, who said Setseko (now known as Emily) was still alive but had recently suffered a heart attack.

I remember the name Chamberlain and heated discussions about him from my parents.  He was a man who was famous for saying "Peace in our Time".  My parents did not think much of him.  I was five.

When we got back to Japan in 1940 my school had closed, the International Private School where most ex-pat children were educated.

The only English speaking school open was the Sacred Heart Convent which I attended through that winter and spring.  A lot of our friends had left the country. The Robertsons remained. My mother and I left with Mrs. Robertson and Irene and Betty.  The men were not so lucky.

Increasingly there were scarcities.  My resourceful mother would take my outgrown clothing to the marketplace and bargain for precious eggs.  Increasingly the Japanese people showed hostility.  "Baka! baka!"  The propaganda trucks would slowly pass along the Bluff, their loudspeakers blaring stern words in Japanese.  I went to school, I went to Sunday school (Anglican) I played with friends and my father brought wonderful presets home.  But there was the looming feeling that all would soon change.

Then one day I was asked to select a few of my favorite possessions, clothes, dolls, treasures, only up to fifty ponds, the maximum amount were were allowed to carry out of the country.  I chose my doll, Setseko San with her beautiful Japanese clothes.  Also the prize chest of drawers from the Fancy Dress Christmas parade, the scale from the shop Santa had brought, my Norah Welling dolls and the Burnie box my neighbor had made for me.  Everything else, furniture, pictures, household furnishings, had to be left behind.  And money.  I didn't concern myself with money, but later learned that it was impossible to take cash out of the country.  We left with a few personal possessions, that was it!

Anniversary

Yesterday Trevor and Robyn came down to La Costa Glen.  Mack came over at about 6:00 from work and we all walked to a nearby restaurant, the excellent Mexican Casa de Bandini in the Forum.  There we drank a toast to Robin, who left us one year ago April 6.   Daisy and Heather sent emails in memory of the event.  We have managed to get through the first year, which is always the hardest.

My consolation is that Robin had a very good life.  His children were all credits to him, and his grandchildren.  Even great grandchildren, although sadly, he never got to see Maddox.  He died with mental and physical faculties in good working order.  He was a self made wealthy man.  He had many friends and a wife of almost 63 years he had known since he was nineteen.  He travelled with her to all the places they ever wished to go.  Pretty good, Robin!

Reunion

Thursday night  Wendy and Michel arrived on a direct flight from Paris to stay at a hotel near LAX.  Yesterday morning they had breakfast with Trevor, saw the Manhattan Beach house all spiffed up and ready for a tenant.  They rented a car, left early to make a 2:00 pm appointment in San Diego.  Trevor drove down separately. He stopped here and we picked up Andrew Mack at his house.  At 4:00 we heard  Wendy and Michel give a joint lecture to about 50 people in one of the fascinating rooms at UCSD's Atkinson Hall.  Wendy and Michel had work related obligations after that for dinner, so Trevor and Mack and I had a Korean BBQ meal near where he ives, where you cook wonderful things right on a hot ring at your table.  

We took Mack home, unloaded some more 'junk' for him to store, and Trevor had a good tour of the house and all its wonders.  The view from the back yard is spectacular!  Mack has installed some nice bright lighting throughout the house, something I need here.  Since San Onofrey  went down the cost of electricity in this area has skyrocketed, and until recently fast, bright light has been impossible.  (Cheaper LEDs have made this much better, thank goodness.)

Trev and I drove back to La Costa Glen and watched a Ted Talk or two until we got too sleepy to stay awake.  It was a big day for Trev, but he takes it all in stride.

This evening Wendy and Michel will take us all to Fidels, or the next door restaurant called The Jackal (in Spanish) in Solana Beach, which were  surrounded by fields when she was a student at UCSD n the '70s. Now they are surrounded by buildings.

Friday, Saturday and Sunday we should all have some time to explore La Costa Glen and surrounds.  Wendy and Michel plan to fly back Monday from LAX.

Saturday, March 3, 2018

Japan Story

Pastimes and Games

How did a solitary kid amuse herself when there was no TV, computers or iPhones?

I had dolls of course.   There was a Nora Welling doll that I adored.  She had a beautiful face, sculpted from felt with painted features.Her long  velveteen dress was pink, with a bonnet to match.  (In the doll collection is a similar doll that I got through eBay recently, in miniature.  When I unpack the doll collection I will photograph it for the record.) 

I had as mentioned before, Setseko-San, the traditionally dressed Japanese doll. Also a Raggedy Ann doll, very popular in those days.  Has anyone heard of a Golliwog?  I had one of those too.  And Sammy Samuels the ventriloquist's puppet, though I could not make him talk as well as my father could.

I remember playing "Tiddly Winks" and "Snakes and Ladders", which is still popular.  Do you know how to play "Tiddly Winks?"   You have some colored plastic disks which you try to flip into a cup using another disk It requires  great skill.  The one who gets most in the cup wins.  

"Hide the Thimble" was another favorite.  After dinner we would play it in the living room.  Someone would hide a thimble in plain sight, but hard to find in its surroundings.  The others would search around the room, with the person who hid the thimble calling out,

"You're getting warmer (or colder)", as the seekers  came nearer or further away from the thimble.   The one who found it got to be the new "hider".

Then there was the memory game, from Rudyard Kipling, I believe.  My father would arrange about twelve items on a tray,  a pair of scissors, a match, a pencil - other small familiar objects.  I was required to study the objects for about a minute, then a cloth was flung over them. The task was to recall as many objects as possible.

I do not remember a musical instrument of any kind.  We had no piano, although my father was an accomplished pianist.  He was trained as a violinist and played professionally.  He had also taken a percussion class at one time with the rhythms set to words.  He would tap out, "Iddy, umpty, iddy, umpty" or " Go-to-bed-Tom, go-to-bed--Tom, Father and Mother and ev-er-ee one."

" Do it AGAIN, Daddy."

Tuesday, February 27, 2018

The House

Andrew Mack was planning to buy a house in a year or two, after his car was paid off.  He figured he would like to live in Mira Mesa, which is closer to his work.  But Mira Mesa is nearer the Pacific Ocean, and property values go up proportionally as they near the ocean.  In two years he could not afford Mira Mesa.  In fact, it turns out he could not afford it now.  

The Mackay Family Trust  trustee, me, with the approval of Trevor, Wendy and Heather, all thought it a good investment for the Trust if we bought a house in Mira Mesa that Mack could take care of for us.  Mack thought it a good idea too.  

We had a very trusted real estate agent in Palos Verdes, who sold our house there and helped us buy the Manhattan Beach house.  I asked her if she could recommend a realtor in the San Diego area.  She said John Bassler was the one, so we contacted him and he showed us everything in the areas that Mack though suitable.  One was literally within walking distance of the campus where he works, and the price was right.  One catch.  The land it was on is owned by the University.  No good.

There were five possibilities and we looked at them all.  Then a sixth came on the market and were able to see it through an open house on the weekend.  It was love at first sight for Mack.  Only problem, there were five offers for it after only two hours!

There were only two cash offers, and ours won out because John sweetened the deal with a short escrow.

My broker at Chase thought she could do a line of credit from the trust brokerage account.  Unfortunately, Robin had had our credit frozen by three different companies, being very cautious in such matters.  We had difficulty buying the Porsche as a result.  But he kept the locks on, and Trevor advised me to do the same after he died.  When Chase realized the lock, they had to scramble to make funds available another way before the close of escrow deadline.  It was a cliff hanger, with minutes to spare before we fell out of escrow!  I won't go into details, but modern electronic transfer methods made it possible. Thanks to John, Lauren at Chase, the local Chase Bank, Trevor in Manhattan Beach and Mack, it all came together.  Whew!  Mack got the keys on Friday.

We then embarked on a new adventure.  Trevor has been preparing the Manhattan Beach house for a tenant.  So he had lots of 'stuff' that Mack might be able to use, and even store for family members.  

He drove to La Costa Glen early one morning.  We bought two train tickets on line.  Then we Ubered (is that a verb?) to the Solano Beach train station, to board a train for Union Station, Los Angeles.

Our train, we soon learned, was annulled!!  Was it married?  No, just  out of action.  We waited an hour and fifteen minutes before another train finally came.  We changed the ticket with a cell phone.  Again, tech saved the day.

Mack knew how to take the shuttle to LAX.  I'm glad, because the shuttle to LAX is not called Shuttle to LAX but, how cute, The Flyaway!  Lots of signs to the Flyaway, but nothing denoting an airport shuttle.

Trev met us at Terminal 1, and took us to 3020 Highland Avenue where we admired the new paint, newly finished floors (spectacular), two newly concreted porches done by Trev and Jonathan (spectacular),  new curtains, fireplace damper brought to code, numerous other details, new carpets (spectacular), on and on.

We had dinner with Jack and Marilyn and Trev and Robyn joined us at the Big Wok.  Mack and I stayed in a spacious suite in the Seaview Inn, within short walking distance of 3020.  We had breakfast and went to pick up the UHaul.

Trevor and Mack loaded everything they could find and when it was full to bursting we took off south, for Indio Way.  Mack had no difficulty driving the thing, and the traffic was light, the day sunny.  We got to his new house in record time.  Then we Ubered back to La Costa Glen to pick up his car and drop me off.  He recruited two friends to help him unload most of the furniture.  I will go over soon and see what I can take of the stuff earmarked for Wendy and Trevor to store in my garage here. 

This is why there have been no blogs for awhile.

Mack's new address is:
6731 Indio Way
San Diego, CA 92126

Friday, February 23, 2018

We did it!   Today we bought a house in a wonderful part of Southern California, near the ocean and destined to go up in value.  ( We hope.)

Mack will be custodian of this estate property and will take good care of it I know.  All Mackays will be welcome at this paradise location, so lets plan a big reunion here soon. Party, party!

You all come!

Sunday February 16, 2018

Wendy sent me pictures of these wonderful things!   You can see Matthew in the background.  What are they?  Wendy found kits for these kinetic art pieces.  She arranged for Santa to give Wendy, Michel, Alex and Matthew a kit in their stocking, and they spent a happy time together at Magnolia's house (Michel's mother) assembling them, and bringing them back to Paris on the train!  Wendy now has to figure out how to display them in their Paris house.

The one on the top left ia a musical instrument that you can play.  There is a timer, and a safe that works, lower left, and a random pattern generator.  I asked for videos.  Perhaps she will oblige.  Aren't they amazing?

Friday, February 16, 2018

Trevor has been doing an extraordinary job of getting the Manhattan Beach house ready for a tenant.  Housing values have been going up rapidly in the sand section of Manhattan Beach  so it seems like a good idea to lease instead of sell. With Robin' s death the house reverts to zero (capital gains).


At this end, I have been working with a broker to buy a house in Mira Mesa that Andrew can keep up for me.  It will be a good real estate investment I think, and he will have a nice place to live, and the family can come here to visit without having to pay for a motel.  The best part, he is about half an hour closer to me!  He will be able to get to work in just a few minutes a big plus for him. Escrow closes on Tuesday, we hope, and then he can move in.

I am not fond of being a real estate mogul, but so far everyone has been very helpful and supportive.  

At the La Costa Glen side I have been making friends and engaging in new activities.  Yesterday I watched a Tai Chi session which I might try next week.  I am already going to Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning classes in the Stretch and Balance classes.    Tuesday there is an hour and a half Genaires choral practice which I love.  We have 5 parts, Soprano (me), Second Soprano, Alto, Tenor and Bass.  We even do some whistling!  Our latest are a Cole Porter medley and a round.  Other selections: Lydia the Tattooed Lady, Ashokan Farewell, a Jamaica Medley, That's Entertainment, Wabash  Cannonball , At Last,  and More Than You Know.  We will perform in June.  Please come.

I am on a party committee for the Garden Villa residents.  We will meet for lunch, with a speaker, on February 27, with a social beforehand.  Paula, who trains the dining room staff here, is the speaker.  

There is a computer class today.  Then my friend is taking me to an event of some sort in Solana Beach.  Last week we went to Rancho Santa Fe, a very expensive town, similar to Palos Verdes Rolling Hills, with huge lots where they raise polo ponies.   We went to the library and made valentines.  All sorts of materials were laid out and you could choose whatever you needed.  I made about five lovely valentines!  We also stopped at a Japanese farm that grows gourmet salad greens and vegetables.  No prices posted.  If you have to ask the price they don't want your business.  Chefs go there.

Wednesday, February 7, 2018

Japan Story

Hyama

The Westerners in Yokohama in the thirties used to go to the mountains or the sea to escape the heat.  The women and children stayed for the summer. The men would swelter from Monday to Friday, and rejoin their families on weekends.  

The summer I turned four we went to a seaside resort called Hyama.  I do not remember the cottage we stayed in except that it was right on the beach set under a grove of pine trees.  What I do remember is the beach.  My mother and I would go walking together on the sand. We played a game, "Cowrie".  The beach was a treasure trove of large, beautiful  cowrie shells and when my mother or I spotted one we would sing out,

"I found a cowrie!"

The collection grew.  I would count them when we got back to the cottage and regarded them as great wealth.  I do not know how many there were but it must have been thirty or forty.   They are long gone. Cowries were actually used as money at one time. 

We also went on shorter excursions.  I remember Kamakura, also by the sea.  I remember going inside the great budda climbing up to his head and looking out.  You cannot do that today.  There was also a hotel there where my parents would have tea, leaving me to play on the swings outside on the sand.  They were very tall swings, and I would flop onto the seat, head down, and walk around in a circle to twist the ropes.  Then, feet off the ground, I would whirl round and round getting gloriously dizzy.

Another favorite day trip was Hakone.  The last part was steep and there was a little cog railway that took us up to the hotel where the mynah bird greeted us. It is a tourist destination to this day.  Near there was a shop where I  painted a picture with glaze on an unfired china dish. They fired it  for me and I took home a wonderful souvenier of my art. Also long gone.

Near there was also a hotel at Myanoshta that I have mentioned where the mynah bird greeted us in Japanese.  Adjacent was a souvenier shop where we bought a set of nested wooden dolls.  I called them my Bundle Family and played happily with them on the wicker train seat all the way home.