Me, Pimms, and the Baroness

Funny story about the first time I was introduced to Pimms (a fruity gin-based drink). Back in the 90s when I was living in Virginia, I was a tenor drummer in a bagpipe band. We were commissioned to play at the British Admiral’s house for a garden party in honour of the Queen’s birthday. I was told that the admiral was knighted so he was Sir Admiral but also that his wife was a Baroness in her own right. I believe at the time he was the head of the NATO command on base.

During the winter and for special occasions we wore full highland dress — feather bonnets, plaid, jacket, spats, and all, so I was decked out.

After we played the Admiral invited us to stay and enjoy the party which I did. I found it a bit boring, a lot of ladies with hats drinking white wine type of party, so I wandered around and soon found the British squids in the kitchen. I did my usual story … Canadian in US Navy, but family was all Royal Navy … and “Bob’s you uncle” I was one of them. They said to forget about the white wine and have some Pimms with champagne. Well for anyone who knows me, I can’t say no to champagne!  The thing about Pimms though is it sneaks up on you because it doesn’t really taste like alcohol (sort of like those Jamaican rum drinks).

After a few, I was quite toasted and decided to wander around outside again. I didn’t really talk to anyone, didn’t trust myself, but I noticed there were a few Siamese cats in the yard and tried to pet one, but they were skittish. After a few minutes, I realized I had to use the washroom, so I went in the house and asked for directions.

Someone told me the washroom was at the top of the stairs, a beautiful sweeping curved stairs right out of Gone with the Wind. I must explain here that the admiral lived on “Admiral Row” on base. These houses were part of the 1907 Jamestown Exposition. (Each home represented the architecture of each state that contributed funding during the event.) After the establishment of Naval Station Norfolk, the homes were eventually converted to houses for flag officers. They are beautiful and very large houses. As I was going up the stairs, I noticed it was lined with pictures and etchings of donkeys. Rather odd I thought.

A few minutes later I’m outside again and I started talking to this older, rather dignified-looking lady. Now, remember, I’m still toasted at this point. During the chitchat, she mentioned that she had donkeys back home in England, to which I stupidly replied “oh, is this your house?” Then I said “So the cats are yours, I tried to pet one but they were skittish.” I must point out that I think she was a little lit herself, but in a polite English way. She was like “Oh yes, you must meet one” and proceeded to take me upstairs to her bedroom because her favourite cat always hid under the bed when strangers were around. Try as she might, the silly thing would not come out when she called so she asked me to help.

So that’s how I ended up, drunk, in full Scottish regalia, prone under a baroness’s bed trying to coax a cat out from under the bed.