Letter from Philip Morton, Richard's High School Friend

I'm still in some state of shock as I assume you are.  I don't have a lot of words to express what's important, but here are some thoughts. 

My first thought - this comes to me quite clearly in her voice.  And in my head her voice is very distinctive.

"Rosemary made pots."

I have a couple of things left over from the years.  I have often had them in my hands in the last two days.


Your house in Dairy Cottage was a vital refuge to me during my teenage years.  Your whole family was so hospitable.  As I learn more about what it takes to run a household I can appreciate even more how willingly she welcomed me into your house - with no sense that I was ever unwelcome.

More than that.  Your house was a place where I was treated with considerable kindness.

When I think of Rosemary I can't remember a single unkind or cruel thing she did.  It made a huge difference in my life.

Another thing that stands out is her sense of humor.  She would sometimes give an air of being perplexed by the modern machinery of life such as the dishwasher you had in Dairy Cottage.  But such things were not to be taken seriously. 

This attitude is very English and is a source of great strength.  In fact Rosemary exemplified the very best of the English.

Of course in her pottery studio she was a maestro - in total control of the equipment there.  Just writing this brings back the smells of the clay and the aptly named slurry.

Her aesthetics were dominated by the very physical acts of pottery and gardening.  Again that's one of the joys of growing up secure in her Englishness. 

Thank goodness for the gentleness of the English countryside.