Well! It's been awhile.
In the meantime, Pantry Kate, a young English doctor who came to Berkeley with her researcher husband, has returned to England. She volunteered at the Berkeley Food Pantry on Mondays, and she was stellar. We of the Post-Menopausal Brigade loved working with her, and she quickly became the Queen of Fruit and Veg. Now she's gone home to Cambridge, boo hoo.
Pantry Kate at work
The PMB had a farewell lunch for her a few weeks ago.
Corned beef and napkins by Val, another Englishwoman
Due to Kate's status as Queen of F&V, I made her a crown that we all signed, and being a good sport, she wore it throughout the lunch:
Note the peppers and chard on the crown.
Her fans:
From left to right: Valerie, Maria, me, Ednah, Anne
After the party, I started to think about the newcomers under my wing over the past 20 years, usually younger women. First thing: take them to Pt. Reyes or tell them how to get there. Take them to a San Francisco museum or two. Kate and I watched an Atwul Gawande program on death, most interesting. There aren't many people her age with whom you can have a substantive conversation about death. Also, we kicked around Brexit.
Someone took me under her wing when I was about Kate's age. She was the wife of the researcher Jerry went to visit in Australia for six months, and her name was Jill Common.
Jill Common and me at Tidbinbilla Nature Reserve outside Canberra in 1980. I was 30; Jill was in her mid-60's.
I had a hard time in Canberra, and Jill was patient and kind. Although we were different in many ways, she's been the model for me--not for elaborate picnics that featured tables, chairs, and something called a "dilly bag," but for her willingness to be a friend.
Kate and me at her party
On her last day in Berkeley, Kate and I went to lunch, and I picked up the tab. She protested.
"When you're in your sixties, and you spot a young newcomer, you can buy her lunch," I told her. "And tell her to do the same when she's in her sixties."
"I will!" said Kate, and off she went.
This morning I got an e-mail from her. She'd had to "attend a medical emergency"on the flight from San Francisco, and the plane landed in Boston so the sick passenger could be taken off. British Airways rewarded her with a Business Class seat for the rest of the trip. (The very least they could do, in my opinion. How about a lifetime upgrade?)
And so goes the legacy of Jill Common, who would be nearly 100 now, if she were still alive. We lost touch about 10 years ago, I'm sorry to say.
