Talk of war

My new job was different. The house was less formal and instead of a butler we had a powerful ladies maid. She was an older Finish woman who decided on the menus with the cook. She ordered whatever food or services were needed. She did not like me at first and I guessed it might ave had something to do with the fact that she had not found me first. We became very good friends.

Mrs B was a down home kind of person. She loved to garden even though she had several gardeners. She suffered from back pain which was not hard to underrstand. I saw her once in the barn hoisting bales of hay. A Swedish physical therapist came at least once a week for massage and exercise treatments. We became good friends. I felt like a million when she asked me to go along downtown on my day off. Riding in a convertible Packard was fun. Mr B was seldom seen. Rumor had it that he had been Chief of police when he married her as a divorcee. They had fun parties and lots of house guests. I remember one house party especially. Ruth Gordon and her husband Elia Cazan were in the city for some do on Broadway and came out for the week end. When I saw the movie about a chauffeurs daughter falling in love with the son of the house I thought THAT'S WHAT MRS B's PARTIES LOOKED LIKE.

But everything was not sugar and whipped cream. When we were eating breakfast in the servant's quarters the radio was always on The Breadfast Club. And the talk of war became more and more insistent. Helga, the ladies maid, liked fresh eggs and ordered them from a farmer who lived nearby. They were German and both belonged to THE BUNDT. We got so much propaganda with the delivery of our eggs.