Winter Park

“There is a gentleman you must meet,” said the president of the Orlando Museum of Art. Founded in 1924, it’s a vast building filled with great stuff and attracts lots of interested visitors and not a Mickey Mouse in sight. “He once looked into your grandfather’s mouth.” I could see the gentleman, in amongst the crowd of women who had come to hear me talk, clearly a brave man, not only because he had gone to war on a battleship.

I was shown a display case in the museum; it held all of my father’s design books and some of his geometric carpets and fabric samples. Beside the case was a museum notice, giving a potted history of my father’s career, at the end it said ‘Hicks was married to Lady Pamela Mountbatten and had three daughters’, delighted by this I texted my brother immediately. “Ha” I wrote, “in Orlando you’re a girl.”

There was a surprise Junkanoo ‘rush’ (yes, there are Junkanoo-performing-Bahamians living in Orlando); and an IH Pop-Up shop for the Museum’s top bananas; and an IH Get Together in the smooth showroom of Canvas Interiors (there is a subtle difference between Pop-Ups and Get Togethers but I’m never entirely sure what), in Winter Park, beside the impressive hundred-year-old live oaks that line their cobblestone streets.

I flew home to find my children had moved out. They were now living in “Chicken Forest,” a camp they had constructed on the edge of our property.

The house was nice and quiet. I sat down at my computer, “Liquid Fire: How To Make a Metal Sword in Minutes” popped up. Hhhmm I began to wonder quite what was going on in Chicken Forest.

4 thoughts on “Winter Park”

  1. I do enjoy your blog! Now this is going to sound slightly stalker-ish (I’m not, I promise), but I named my second daughter after you. I was growing up in suburban Reading in the 1980s and after the excitement of the Royal Wedding, my Granny bought me a jigsaw with a picture of the whole wedding party, with a key on the back explaining who was who. I was sooooo jealous of the bridesmaids – I couldn’t imagine anything more fantastic – and when I saw your name I just thought OMG, a gorgeous girl, she gets to be bridesmaid at this amazing event, on television, AND she has this totally exotic name. AND she doesn’t have to live in Reading. I promised myself my own daughters would one day bear exotic names and not have to live tedious childhoods in Reading. Anyway, fast forward a few years and it’s sort of worked out. The first daughter ended up as Matilda as she was born in Australia, the second is India. And she’s growing up in HK. Anyway, a funny story and I’m running out of space now… Love your products too!

  2. India!

    It’s been lovely catching snippets of your life unfolding over the last few decades…Our Ladymede years are so far away, yet I vividly remember the time we were in sick bay together and, after lights out, we played catch with my snoopy and he landed in a bucket of dettol. Naturally Sister Miller (or maybe it was one of the nurses) caught us and I was in trouble yet again!

    Not sure why, but that little movie has stuck with me all this time!

    Congrats on your new company – be well.



  3. Wendy,
    OMG this brought back such memories, Snoopy, Sick bay, Sister Miller! How did you remember all that? I can hardly remember the names of my children. Take care x India

  4. Carolynne,
    I have really enjoyed reading this. Made me laugh. Reading is not all that bad! But HK probably a tad more exotic. Narrow escape for your India.

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