I spent far too much time yesterday and this morning with Google Street View. I can’t quite seem to make it work for
Detroit and for West
Allenhurst, NJ, the way it used to for Drummond Place and that street in South London where EZ used to live. That is, I can’t seem
to walk along looking from house to house. But I got the idea. Maybe I’ll sneak
in and try my husband’s Toshiba – Archie was impressed with the specs.
All three American sites look much grander than I remember them, manicured lawns and perpetual sunshine. My grammar school (
seems to have morphed into the . Barbara
But the exciting moment was reading about Virginia Park, our first
address, on Wikipedia. It said that
everybody on Virginia Park goes to Thirkill Elementary. Detroit
I haven’t thought of that word for more than 70 years. I have only the sketchiest memory of my brief time there. But Thirkill! Yes! I was there!
It wasn’t a success. I can’t remember why. I was taken to what must have been an Educational Psychologist who advised
. For a while, I
made quite a long journey there and back by bus, until the whole family moved
to Parkside. What one puts one’s parents through (and takes for granted)! Hampton
My mother made the bus journey with me for a while, then trusted me to do it. The street before Virginia Park is
she said. When I saw that, I would know to get off at the next stop. After
being carried on an extra bus stop for several days, I told her that it wasn’t Euclid – she had her coat on and we were
nearly out the door to check on this before I added – “It’s something beginning
with E”. Euclid
And I’m glad to see that both Virginia Park and Euclid are still there. Many of the main arteries have been re-named things like Rosa M. Parks.
We had a successful time yesterday with the picture-hanging, although it still needs to be adjusted. I should have let Archie – who claims to a bit of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder – climb down from the steps and survey the situation from afar. He would have seen the problem. I did all that myself, and lengthened and shortened the string as I thought appropriate, while he remained perched aloft. He’ll be back on Sunday, to avoid paint-balling. We’ll nail it.
And I knit on with Relax2, including the next round of eyelets. I must attempt a picture soon. I’m afraid it won’t do justice to the beautiful madelinetosh fabric.
There was an interview with Alison Steadman – British readers will know; she’s brilliant – in the Telegraph yesterday about a new television series coming up next week, on the general theme of marriages breaking up in later life. “Life doesn’t stop,” Steadman said. “Women are no longer looking after husbands and knitting, they are going out and living.”
Elsewhere in the article my idol Penelope Keith is quoted as saying, “All these women in their fifties and sixties who suddenly want their own space, to be their own people. To do what?”