Brandy for a Bullfinch; much to be thankful for; looking forward to 1953; Sandy Cunningham; “shortenin’ bread”; mis-identification of a woodecker; a boy is born, and tears and joy fight for supremacy.
On December 10th 1952, Gran is brought a male Bullfinch that has been “knocked down”, she thinks, on the road. She has little hope of its recovery as it seems to be in a bad way but she gives it a drop of brandy, holds it in her warm hand, and then places it in a basket by the kitchen window, and it begins to recover. After more than an hour it flies off, and Gran says, “He was a beautiful bird and I was so pleased that he recovered”.
The use of brandy in such a situation is new to me, and I expect is not to be recommended! I remember another member of the family many years later giving apple pieces soaked in brandy to a budgerigar, and it became so relaxed that it fell off its perch!
I had little time for outside observations today since Barry was coming on leave early this evening and bringing with him his new friend, John Sandy Cunningham, known to all as Sandy, and his fiancée Jill, whose second name I never discovered and which Sandy told me was relatively unimportant as she would be changing it on January 7th, when they are getting married.
Sandy and Jill spend the night at The Ridge, Gran noting that they were:
…already quite at home and the easiest young people with whom to get on that I have ever known, in spite of the fact that Sandy is extremely clever and an Oxford B.A. Also, he is one of the handsomest young men I know and his manners are punctilious. His voice is well modulated and he is most gentle and courteous towards Jill.