Share a memory

We welcome your contributions to Gris’ blog.

Words, photos, music can be included if they are in a digital format.

Please email Imogen at imogen57yahoo.co.uk or Xanthe at xanthejay2@hotmail.com with your memories.

Email from Alison Hawkins July 2021

From Zoe Birnstingl Wyzgowska

I was very touched by the announcement of the death of your mother that Douglas informed me of the day before yesterday. She was a “drôle de boune-femme” a phrase we use here to acknowledge a women for whom we have great respect. Griselda had an enormous originality, a marvellous intelligence, a curiosity for the world, so I must pay tribute. I can see her again, in the studio at the Theatre de l’Arentelle, dancing with us, creating beautiful memories. I reach out to you Xanthe, and your children, to express my support at a time of great loss, in this  very difficult moment in one’s life. Bruno

Translated from Bruno and Genevieve’s letter

Me too, Xanthe, I send you really big hugs. I liked your mother very much and in particular her intellectual curiosity. And I adored speaking English with her.

Genevieve

Letter from Felix by email 24th March 2020

Dearest Xanthe & Imogen,

News of Griselda’s death reached us as we sat down for dinner last night. It provoked a wealth of fond reminiscences, and discussion of how well you had managed in finding the right level of care and support in these past couple of waning years. An elegantly difficult problem that the three of you seem to have negotiated well and with grace.

The same words might describe the very manner of her passing – no fuss, no heroic efforts and panicked transportation into a medicalized “life saving” context – just quietly slipping away, in the sunshine, in the privacy of her own space and between the administrations of (I hope) kind and supportive carers. Well done, all!

And those themes, kindness, grace and generosity frame my memories of my favourite aunt, along with her adamantine principles. Oh how I treasured the lively debates we were able to have, on the all too rare occasions when I, as an adult (or nearly so), had the joy of chewing the fat with her. I was inordinately proud of her as the very last card carrying member of the Communist Party in my acquaintance. But, equally her enthusiastic appetite for life in all its richness of experience, her love of music and singing, her Tomlinson capacity to turn any harvest into a communal enterprise at the end of which there would be tasty treats – these are the threads that weave through the fabric of my memory.

Jan and I were busy planning a visit to the UK and Levanto this summer, and the articulating function of our landing at Gatwick was to use it as a means to visit Griz in Bognor – well, I guess the best laid plans gang aft agley. I wonder, indeed, if our summer plans will in any sense be realized. I am sorry I missed seeing her one last time. but am glad my last image of her is of the complete woman, still on top of her game.

With all of our affection and love

Letter from Roger by email 23rd March 2020

Dear Imogen and Xanthe,

Lydia has just told me that your Mum died this morning.  I am so sorry and a little surprised as I thought she was doing really well in the care-home she was in.  I did manage to visit her in Bognor Regis twice which is good but I had hoped to go again.  Over the decades from seeing her at la Scogliera at Menaggio in about 1949 or ‘50 (causing some 18 year-old libido) I have spent so many good times with Gris, almost always in Italy with exciting travel in her topolino, visiting her little vegetable plot up above Lèvanto, dancing the ballo della piastrina, wind surfing and so much more.  She was great fun.  This is a sad time for us all.

With condolences, sadness and with love,

Letter from Maria Laura by email 29th March 2020

Dear Xanthe and Imogen,
We are very sorry, we have lost a great friend, whom we always felt close even if physically distant in recent years. We want to embrace you in this moment of sorrow.
I hope Griselda hasn’t been too bad and that she has kept her liveliness to the end. She sent me in January the booklet with her research on the language; I had been very happy that her cleverness could prove in that job. I also remember that when she was here with us, she studied the learning of Valeria’s language; I hope that has been useful for her research.
We all have many fond memories of when she was here in Pisa, and also when we were together in the mountains, by the sea, in Oxford, in Australia. I now realize that in our garden there are trees and shrubs that she planted with passion and that still bloom or bear fruits; from now on when I will look at them, I will remember Griselda. She taught me a lot about plants and this is something that has stayed with me and will remain in my life.
Valeria and Adriano also had a lot from her; especially Valeria often remembers her; we still have many books and music for children in English that Griselda brought us; now we will have them read and heard by Valeria’s child, Ruggero, who is one year old.
Thank you for informing us; please let us know when the funeral ceremony will take place, so we can feel close to you in that sad moment.
I hope you are all well; a hug to Ocean (I can’t remember anymore what her current name is), she spent some nice days with us.
Best wishes to you all from Francesco, Valeria and Adriano and me.
Maria Laura

Letter from Phil Taylor by email 30th mach 2020

Dear Xanthe

I was sad to hear from Cath and Bill that Gris (not sure how to spell) has died. Please accept my condolences. I think the only time I met her was in Pisa when we went on holiday to Levanto. I will always remember her letting us use her right-hand drive Cinquecento. A quirky little motor with, as I recall, papier-mache bodywork repairs and no front passenger seat! It was a lovely trip out into the surrounding countryside. I have some nice photos.

Love Phil

Letter from Bernadette and Jean-Claude, neighbours in Langogne

Bonjour Xanthe,

Nous sommes peinés d’apprendre le décès de ta maman! Elle a fait une belle mort, avec sérénité, tant mieux. Nous avons de bons souvenirs de cette “grande dame”, pleine de vitalité et de chaleur humaine: nous ne l’oublierons pas! Elle a été une très bonne voisine pour nous et nous l’aimions beaucoup

Je t’embrasse et t’envoie toutes nos pensées amicales.

Bernadette 

Email from Susie with forwarded message from John Churcher

Dear Imogen,

I do hope you will feel able to have a ‘memory party’ for Griselda, when we are out of this particular Covid-tunnel. Meanwhile I am raising a glass to her every now and then, when something tweaks a precious memory.

My current favourite is a twilight picnic up in her terraced orto below the bar Giulia, when my children were quite small. It was a proper adventure, what with the walk up there, a tasty meal, and walking back down in the dark ourselves while Griselda drove down in the Ape (I never did know where she parked it).

And, long before that, singing the duets from The Marriage of Figaro with her to Michael’s accompaniment at 16a Lower Belgrave Street – Jennifer listening wistfully, having smoked her voice away.

I look forward to hearing lots more memories from all of you.

Lots of love from Susie

Dear Susie,

Thank you for letting us know. Griselda was a very real presence in the lives of all us Churcher Clarkes, especially during our times in Levanto. Her warm & incredibly strong personality have left unforgettable memories in all of us. It is sad that her death had to come in the middle of this terrible upheaval that we are all struggling with and I hope you will be able to have some kind of funeral for her.

With love to all, John & Karen

Email from Roger Birnstingl 14/08/21

Dear Imogen and Xanthe,
      
        I have had a good look at your chapters of memories of your Mum and I think you have done this so exceptionally well.  I simply could not stop studying all the letters,  those awful ones from the LCC, the Ministry of Education et al.  You have done this so well and clearly Gris had an amazing life.  I think I told you of my feelings for her in Menaggio in 1950.  Did I tell you about coming up from the Tube at Tottingham Court Station and there was Gris crying ‘Daily Worker, Daily Worker’ with her best Cockney voice?  She saw me and immediately  reverted to her normal Beltane voice ‘hello Roger!  How are you?’.  That must have been 1955 or’56.  Many years later in Lèvanto she taught me to windsurf and the ballo liscio also showing me her orto of which she was justly proud.  I had a long drive with her in the topolino to Pisa;  it took a very long time.  I think this was also the occasion that Jasper flew me from Pisa to Genoa in a plane with no working radio.  This meant that we landed in Genoa without any permission;  Jasper just put the plane down on the first convenient runway he could see.  Amazingly there were no repercussions or fines for this.
        You mention Jasper going to Oxford.  I am almost certain that he went to Balliol (end of 1928-1950 chapter) not Auriel as you suggest.   Jasper had met Bedrick Eisler at the Watford Building Development College (or somesuch name).   At that time (1950) Martin, Jasper and I were living with Geraldine Carr in Addison Road, Kensington with a living-in housekeeper called Mrs Edwards who gave us huge breakfasts every day of porridge, eggs, bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms, brown toast and marmalade.   It really set us up for the day.   A penny halfpenny got me a bus ride to the Royal College of Music.  Those were the days when Gran would say ‘give the man a penny’.
        One day Jasper invited Bedrick to visit.  Gran took one look at him and said that he must stay upstairs, ie not descend to the sitting and dining room.  Bedrick NEVER forgot this and even mentioned it to me when in his 90th year in Winchester.
        There may be a follow up to this as there are many stories of Jasper and Bedrick’s adventures in China and elsewhere.   I have forgotten much of this but Bedrick’s daughter Helen could help me.
       

                                        Love to you both from Roger

Email’s from David Potter – A tenant at Rosemary Cottage from1976-1977

(Received two days before what would have been Griz’s 96th birthday on 10/03/24)

Hi Imogen and Xanthe,

I just stumbled across the web page dedicated to your mother, and I was sad to hear she passed away in 2020.

You might remember, I was your mother’s last tenant at Rosemary Cottage from 1976 to 1977. She said to me when I moved in there were two main rules:-

1. I never came in rolling drunk, and
2. I milked the goat when she was away.

I agreed and then discovered that she was about to disappear to Sestri Levante for 6 weeks so I had a crash course in milking.

I retired a couple of years ago, and at my leaving do my boss put together a presentation that lasted over an hour. During that she mentioned to colleagues that my year at Rosemary Cottage was the happiest in my life. It certainly was at the time.

I loved it. I still chuckle about the eccentricities. I have many fond memories, including scrumping plums with your mother at midnight and burning enormous logs on the fire. It got so hot the outside wall was too hot to touch. I certainly remember the car repaired with papier maché. It was possible to read the newsprint through the paint. And I enjoyed 2 weeks in Sestri Levante too.

Very Best Wishes,

David Potter

(David sent further anecdotes and photos once he received a response.)

Firstly, I must say I enjoyed reading all the content on your mother’s biographical webpage. I especially loved hearing her sing Linden Lea. I don’t remember hearing her sing before.

It is sad that when she sold Rosemary Cottage. It is a shame that we all lost contact. I was very fond of Griz.

I first came to Kent in Feb 1976. My boss was Don Jordan, whose house was built on the site of the old windmill. That was quite a story about Griz’s protests regarding the windmill’s demolition. I first moved into digs at Victoria Cottage, a few doors down from you, but things were too quiet there. I came to live at Rosemary Cottage about late August ‘76 and stayed 54 wonderful weeks until the house was sold.

I did not pay rent in the conventional sense. We worked out want the rent would be if paid normally, and the sum was written down in a notebook. Whenever an electricity, gas or water bill arrived I paid it, and the book recorded the balance.

1976 was the year of the famous drought, so Rodmersham Green became Rodmersham Scorched.

We used to share out some of the domestic duties, and when I could I would source wood for the fire and chop it up. Dutch elm disease had killed a lot of trees in the area, so plenty of wood was to be found.

Scrumping for plums is one of my fondest memories. On an almost pitch-black night Griz and I went out at midnight with a couple of bags. It was slightly naughty I know, but we took the view that there was a glut of fruit that was not being picked, and the waste was criminal. Having found a tree in the dark I remember systematically running my hands down the branches seeking out the plums.

Griz was one for making things, and her Elderflower Champagne was to die for. We made ginger beer too, and I remember picking one bottle up and the top blew off. A jet of ginger beer shot across the entire kitchen.

Making goat’s milk cheese was not a success. We were very professional in our approach, adding rennet to the fresh milk. Five days later the smell was so strong it was impossible to be in the same room with it.

I remember one Saturday Griz drove into Sittingbourne to buy food. She came back empty handed saying everything was too expensive. She made a repeat visit later that evening after Sainsbury had closed, and she came back with many items. These included numerous cheesecakes for us (about to go out of date) and loads of Weetabix for Belinda. In my head I hear Xanthe saying something along the lines of ‘You have been in those bins, haven’t you mother’.  The bins were about 7 feet tall, so it would have been an interesting challenge. Like the plums, Griz had once again prevented a criminal waste.

In Rosemary Cottage I first experienced a problem that I would again see in my own house in Faversham a few years ago. Mice moved in and became a very real problem. On both occasions the remedy was to acquire a cat. Griz appealed to colleagues for a cat with mouse-catching on its cv. About a week later we welcomed a small black cat, whose name I think was Lucky? I remember her being placed on the living room floor and then she stared in all directions as if she was saying ‘There is some serious work to do here’. In no time at all she had disappeared and we did not see her for a week, but every now and again we would hear her chasing mice in the void between the bedroom floors and the living room ceiling. When she re-emerged all the mice were gone.

One unusual feature of the cottage was that it had no bannisters to protect the stairs. I remember Griz saying that one day she fell down it, phoned work to say she would not be coming in, and crawled back into bed and stayed there all day. During my time there she did not sleep in the house, preferring the studio your father built. I wondered which of the two of them was the hoarder. Where she found room to sleep I am not sure.

It was lovely to see your photo of young Belinda. Milking her was a challenge. She seemed to have a knack of kicking the bowl over just as you finished. I also remember her escaping on occasions, and she loved the vegetable garden in the house to your left. The neighbours seemed very understanding.

With Griz selling the house, Belinda and I had to leave. Griz found Belinda a new home at Doddington. The people who ran the Post Office already had a goat or two.

I vaguely remember Griz having a small van back then. I have fond memories of us putting Belinda in the back, and we pushed our seats forward to give her maximum space. Drivers coming in the opposite direction would have seen Griz, Belinda and I with our noses virtually on the windscreen. It must have been quite a picture.

There were loads of characters on the Green that I still remember. The Turcans, the Stevens (with the red bus), and the Ardizzones.

Griz and Joan were both very kind, organizing things so my girlfriend and I could go to stay in Sestri. I remembered this morning that we did a lot weeding in the garden there and there was one plant that Joan called ‘the enemy’. Botany being my main interest I can say the plant was Black Horehound (Ballota nigra). Ironically Google recommended a reference to it today in the Morning Star.

One of the many fascinating things in the biography was seeing that Griz did a Masters at Southampton in her 50s. My daughter Helen did her masters there. Coincidentally, while Helen was a post grad student I was finishing a PhD at Kings College London, becoming Dr Potter at the age of 55. Helen and I had graduation ceremonies in the same week.

Just one more thing for now, in 1978 I went to America for the wedding of a friend from college. Another colleague called Jane came with me. Two weeks after we got home Jane and I were engaged. We married in 1979. We have three kids and two grandchildren. Before going to the States, I had to apply for a visa. One of the questions said something like ‘Do you know any members of the Communist Party?’ I replied ‘No’. Had I been more honest it is unlikely Jane and I would have wed.

Kindest Regards,

David