Comments on: Exceptional people: Malcolm Monteith – and the saddest words in the world http://www.cottagesmallholder.com/exceptional-people-malcolm-monteith-and-the-two-saddest-words-in-the-world-842 Stumbling self sufficiency in a small space Thu, 09 Feb 2012 00:52:19 +0000 hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.3.1 By: Danny http://www.cottagesmallholder.com/exceptional-people-malcolm-monteith-and-the-two-saddest-words-in-the-world-842/comment-page-1#comment-63797 Danny Fri, 09 Oct 2009 20:59:04 +0000 http://www.cottagesmallholder.com/?p=842#comment-63797 What a lovely reminiscent article this is. I think it is beautifully written, Fiona. Christopher and David - we are so pleased that you found it. Hopefully it will reappear once a year on October 9th to remind us of your uncle. I never met him but I would hazard a guess that he and I would have had a ball over a beer or two every week. What a lovely reminiscent article this is. I think it is beautifully written, Fiona.

Christopher and David – we are so pleased that you found it. Hopefully it will reappear once a year on October 9th to remind us of your uncle.
I never met him but I would hazard a guess that he and I would have had a ball over a beer or two every week.

]]> By: DOT http://www.cottagesmallholder.com/exceptional-people-malcolm-monteith-and-the-two-saddest-words-in-the-world-842/comment-page-1#comment-55922 DOT Wed, 24 Dec 2008 09:39:05 +0000 http://www.cottagesmallholder.com/?p=842#comment-55922 Your post has assembled the family, I am Christopher's younger brother, David, and thus another nephew of Malcolm & Cis. What I remember of Malcolm was his unfailing ability to conjure up delightfully descriptive aphorisms. The Kings Road he once described as being a collection of boutiques, antiques and narcotiques - this being the late 60s or early 70s. And, somewhat disloyally, he would refer to the readership of the Field as a collection of two-legged spaniels. Your post has assembled the family, I am Christopher’s younger brother, David, and thus another nephew of Malcolm & Cis.

What I remember of Malcolm was his unfailing ability to conjure up delightfully descriptive aphorisms. The Kings Road he once described as being a collection of boutiques, antiques and narcotiques – this being the late 60s or early 70s.

And, somewhat disloyally, he would refer to the readership of the Field as a collection of two-legged spaniels.

]]> By: Christopher http://www.cottagesmallholder.com/exceptional-people-malcolm-monteith-and-the-two-saddest-words-in-the-world-842/comment-page-1#comment-55902 Christopher Tue, 23 Dec 2008 13:29:42 +0000 http://www.cottagesmallholder.com/?p=842#comment-55902 Malcolm was my uncle, dead nearly 13 years now, and I used to spend a weekend with him and Cis during the school holidays when I was in my teens in the late 50s, early 60s. The 'pervading odour of rotting vegetables' brought it all back. The casual, almost bohemian atmosphere, the evenings in the Cadogan Arms just across the road were so different from the much more regulated lifestyle with which I was familiar and which was typical of the era. For some years, Malcolm worked at the Field magazine just off Piccadilly, taking his golden labrador Liz with him. She distinguished herself once by sleeping through a burglary at the flat, though God knows what there was to steal, and biting the policeman who came to investigate. In those days it was regarded as an honour to work for such a prestigious periodical as the Field and Malcolm claimed that he resigned from it when he discovered that his secretary was being paid more than he was. Man cannot live by honour alone. For many years Cis worked at 'the Wiggery' - a place with a much more formal name at a smart address in SW1 which charged its customers a fortune for hand-made hair pieces but paid its skilled workers peanuts. For all that, the enormous joie de vivre that Malcolm and Cis shared made those weekends a beacon in my adolescence. I remember them both with great affection. Malcolm was my uncle, dead nearly 13 years now, and I used to spend a weekend with him and Cis during the school holidays when I was in my teens in the late 50s, early 60s. The ‘pervading odour of rotting vegetables’ brought it all back. The casual, almost bohemian atmosphere, the evenings in the Cadogan Arms just across the road were so different from the much more regulated lifestyle with which I was familiar and which was typical of the era. For some years, Malcolm worked at the Field magazine just off Piccadilly, taking his golden labrador Liz with him. She distinguished herself once by sleeping through a burglary at the flat, though God knows what there was to steal, and biting the policeman who came to investigate. In those days it was regarded as an honour to work for such a prestigious periodical as the Field and Malcolm claimed that he resigned from it when he discovered that his secretary was being paid more than he was. Man cannot live by honour alone. For many years Cis worked at ‘the Wiggery’ – a place with a much more formal name at a smart address in SW1 which charged its customers a fortune for hand-made hair pieces but paid its skilled workers peanuts. For all that, the enormous joie de vivre that Malcolm and Cis shared made those weekends a beacon in my adolescence. I remember them both with great affection.

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