Mrs Finnegan’s Almanac – It’s Always Best to Keep in with the Right Kind of Saint

Mrs Finnegan’s Maxim for a HAPPY Life

Never pick an argument with someone who has a lot of time on their hands

The spring is SHY this year, always promising to come and sit awhile and then retreating back into the damp shadows. But the sun is shining today and, as I am determined that The Regency Town House WILL sparkle, we are making a start with the chandeliers.

When I say we, I mean the maids. Oh what a COMFORT it is to have a full complement of staff. Watching them work puts me in mind of the glorious chandelier at the Pavilion.

I have not seen it myself of course, but the painting depicts a true wonder. The glass drops ALONE cost 1 guinea per lb, I’m told. Mind you, I’m uneasy about some of the staff. Look at the right hand side. Do you think the third fellow furthest from the front is about to take a taste of something? Often a necessity, it has to be done in the kitchen or in the deckers’ room when the plates are nicely put together, never in front of guests (or sharp-eyed artists).

Back to the chandelier, it was never INTENDED for Brighton. By rights it should be in China. It was taken there in1816 by Lord Amherst as a present to his celestial majesty the Emperor.

The hope was to extend commercial relations, but negotiations broke off before they started because Lord A wouldn’t “kowtow” to the Emperor. That means lying FLAT on the ground which a lot of us couldn’t do even if we wanted to. The better newspapers reported it as “an indignity being offered at Pekin”.

Drama upon DRAMA, while making the return journey Lord Amherst was shipwrecked on the South China sea which manages to sound wonderfully romantic and hideously dangerous at the same time.

With great good luck, the chandelier was saved (along with Lord A) and found a home in the Pavilion until two years ago. It was taken down after a visit from King William and dear Queen Adelaide because Her Majesty had a dream that it would fall and do TERRIBLE damage to those underneath.

I don’t know where it is now, but I’m sure it will survive to shine another day

Saint of the Week

St Bono Feast Day April 21st

He was a Welsh monk living a blameless LIFE in the 7th century who is of no interest whatsoever except that he restored St Winifred’s head after she was beheaded. He must have been a good family man too, as he raised his niece and cousin from the dead.

The headless saints Felix, Regula and Exuperantius being guided to heaven. They didn’t have the GOOD LUCK to know St Bono.

Other Ways of Judging People

Last week I suggested that a man’s poker work was a sure measure of of his character and intellect. I am grateful to the readers who suggested OTHER methods. These include:

• the way he uses a mop
• how clean the water is when he mops
• that he knows which end of the mop goes in the water
• ability to stack clean, wet dishes WITHOUT argument
• a talent for omelette making
• polished shoes
• ability to SCORE correctly when participating in competitive sports
• and the way he takes his socks off

I also advise taking a HARD look at the door-plate before knocking at a house. It is The first object that meets a stranger’s eye and can reveal a lot about what goes on inside.

If it is highly polished, it might be safely concluded that the residents are also highly polished. If, however, it bears the bloom of neglect and is pock-marked with finger prints shall we not also assume that the owner has a similar slovenly attitude toward business, family and friends?

I make sure that my brass is rubbed regularly every morning.

How do you FORM an opinion about your neighbours? Do tell

I am thinking of including a recipe next week.

Which would you prefer – something you could cook or something to clean with?

I suspect that the answers may reveal a lot about the readership of my little almanac.

Mrs Finnegan, sometimes called the commanding intellect of her generation (of Brunswick Square housekeepers), now takes care of two households, The Regency Town House, and her own smaller abode that she shares with her rather new husband Master Peregrine Hildenbrace.
She doesn’t know how she does it. The Almanac is her light relief and wholesome pleasure.
Other women embroider neatly.
Mrs Finnegan educates mankind one week at a time.

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