Andy Vining’s Podcast: My Mother’s Diaries 1948 – 1976: Episode 11 — July and August 1949

Andy Vining shares his mother’s diaries in his new podcast. Listen to these beautiful stories on Spotify.

Andy Vining’s parents were John and Peggy (later known as Be Be).

July 1949: The Height of Summer

Hello… and welcome Episode 11 of My Mother’s Diaries.
I’m Andy – Andy Vining.
Each episode I open the pages of my mother’s diaries, written day by day on our family farm in Hampshire in 1949 through to 1976. Through her words we step back into a world of farming, family, village life… and the small everyday moments that quietly made up a life.

This is July 1949.

By the time July arrived, summer had truly taken hold of the countryside. The days were long, the sun was strong, and the farm was working at full stretch. Pea picking had begun in earnest across the front field, and John and the men spent long hours gathering the crop while the warm air hummed with the sound of insects and distant tractors. Life around the farmhouse was as busy as ever.

I went up to the school for dancing lessons one morning and called in to see Joan afterwards. Later that day we wandered over to Tommy’s for cricket practice. Before long Tom, Lorna, Joan and Les all appeared at the house for a cup of tea, and what was meant to be a short visit turned into one of those cheerful evenings filled with laughter.

The weather remained hot and dry.

One morning John and I went shopping in Eastleigh, though everyone was already talking about the need for rain. The ground was beginning to dry badly. Even so the peas were doing well, and we sold several bushels to buyers in the area.

Back at the house the kitchen filled with the scent of raspberries as I bottled them for later in the year. Visitors came and went constantly — Nora and her family arrived, and later Mother and Bella stayed for supper.

Amid all the work there were moments of pleasure too. One perfect summer day we drove to the seaside at Highcliffe with the Beetons, the Parkers and the children. The weather was glorious and the sea air fresh and bright. The children had a wonderful time running along the beach and paddling in the water while the adults relaxed in the sunshine. It was the sort of simple summer day that stays in the memory for years.

Back at the farm the work quickly resumed. Washing and ironing filled one hot morning before I hurried off to the hairdresser later in the afternoon. Even as evening approached the air remained warm and heavy, though a few drops of rain teased us without delivering the proper shower everyone hoped for.

School activities continued as usual. I spent time helping with dancing lessons, and one evening there was a cricket match between the Old Boys and the Boys’ Club. The Old Boys won comfortably, to the delight of the older spectators. Joan and Les called in afterwards and we spent some time chatting while I showed Joan how to draw a chicken again in her second lesson –  something she seemed determined to master.

The next few days were busy with preparations for a local show. Peas were picked well into the evening while I tried to organise everything needed for the following day. Then came one of the most memorable outings of the summer.

Early one morning we set off with Joan and Les for the great agricultural show at Shrewsbury. The journey itself was wonderful, taking us through the rolling countryside of the Cotswolds and up into Shropshire. The show was magnificent — animals, machinery, crowds of people and everything that makes a country show so lively. That evening we stayed overnight at a comfortable hotel in Oswestry. The following day we visited the show again before beginning the journey home in the afternoon. We stopped for tea in Worcester before finally arriving back at the farm that evening, tired but very happy after such a splendid trip.

Life quickly returned to its usual rhythm. Cross came by one morning, and later the West family and Nora visited during the afternoon. Another quiet Sunday followed when relatives arrived in numbers and filled the house with conversation. The hot weather continued. John played tennis whenever he could find the time, though much of his attention was still on the peas and haymaking School events continued too, with parents’ days, dancing practices, and small gatherings that kept everyone moving back and forth between village and farm.
Mother and Bella often came for tea, and Mr Cross appeared regularly at the door.

The work of the house was constant as always. Needlework filled many quiet moments as I tried to keep ahead of the endless sewing and mending. Eventually the large pile of darning was finally finished, at least for a while.

The weather remained stubbornly dry. One afternoon, after a long stretch of sunshine, rain finally arrived at last but luckily we had got all the hay safely inside the barn. It was enough to stop the tennis matches for the evening, but everyone agreed it was badly needed. Tommy even arrived with a new tennis racquet for me, which was a pleasant surprise. That same evening Mother came to stay at the farm while Bella began her holiday.

Life carried on with its mixture of farm work and small pleasures. John bought a new swimming costume in the village one day, and there were trips into Eastleigh for shopping. There were tennis matches and small tournaments at Chalk’s. Some games were won and others lost, but the enjoyment was always the same.

One particularly pleasant afternoon we went with Joan and Les to Standish to watch sheepdog trials. The dogs worked beautifully across the fields, guiding the sheep with quiet precision. Later that evening we had supper at the Parkers before driving home through the warm summer night. The days rolled on steadily.

John checked the crops at Flexford, where the corn was beginning to look almost ready for harvest. At home I continued sewing, working on Janet’s frock while visitors dropped in for tea.

Fruit preserving began in earnest too. One day I bottled fifteen jars of cherries, filling the kitchen with their deep red colour. Meanwhile John cut winter oats at Flexford, and a small hunting party returned one evening with twelve rabbits taken from the fields.
Evenings often ended with gatherings of neighbours, dances in Winchester, or quiet conversations along the lane.

Later in the month we received good news. The girls had been accepted into the convent school — a great relief after all the interviews and worry. The heat continued to build as July moved on. Fields of barley and oats were cut, and the work of gathering and carting filled long days under the sun. Sometimes the heat grew almost too strong. At Flexford some oats were even burnt by the relentless sunshine. Even so, the life of the farm went on. Visitors arrived regularly. Bet and Fred came for a week’s holiday and spent time riding Smoky the pony.
There were cups of tea in the garden, evenings of conversation, and children moving happily between houses.

One afternoon I went to the hairdresser and treated myself to a permanent wave before stopping by Joan’s house for tea and ice. As July neared its end the work of harvesting continued. Wheat was carted, barley gathered, and the fields slowly cleared. Cross even came one morning and took the puppies away, which left the yard feeling strangely quiet.

One evening there was a lively tennis party at Chalk’s, full of laughter and good company. Bet and Fred eventually returned home, and Mother came to stay with us again. Visitors continued to pass by, including Jack and Molly Enright calling in on their way back from Swanage.
And then, at last, the heatwave finally broke. On the final day of July rain fell steadily through the morning and again later in the evening. It was a welcome relief after the long hot weeks.

Inside the house I spent the day sewing and finally finished my pink frock. And so July came quietly to its close — a month of blazing sunshine, busy harvest fields, seaside days and summer shows… before the long-awaited rain returned at last to the Hampshire countryside.

August 1949

August began much as many months did on the farm — with washing lines full, irons heating on the stove, and the steady rhythm of work around the house. While I was busy with washing and ironing one morning, Jennifer and Julie were off to the Romsey Gymkhana with their ponies. Mr and Mrs Dean kindly took Andrew and Janet along too. The evening ended peacefully at the Beetons’ house, as so many evenings seemed to that summer.

News soon arrived that Betty and Fred had given notice at their house and would be returning home that week. Word travelled quickly through the family and preparations quietly began. Meanwhile John and Norman dashed off to the Aberystwyth Show, leaving in a rush as farm shows often required. Life around the farmhouse carried on as usual.

I rose early one morning to see to the poultry before settling down to cut out a new frock. Later I cycled round to Beechcroft to see Mother. Trips into nearby towns were frequent that month. One day John and I drove into Winchester where I bought material for a new petticoat. The rest of the afternoon was spent quietly sewing while Andrew entertained a friend for tea. By evening the sewing basket had returned to my lap again — needlework seemed never far away.

Family news continued to arrive. Eileen Hill called in one afternoon, and I walked up to the village before taking Mother back home again. That same day we sold one of the pigs, though it would remain with us for a while yet before being used for lunch. John meanwhile was busy cutting spring oats in the fields. Saturday brought the usual stream of visitors — Doug and Marjory called in during the day, while news arrived that Nora had gone into a nursing home to have several teeth removed. Stanley later telephoned to say she had had seven teeth taken out and was not feeling particularly well.

Even so life carried on. Tennis matches were played, neighbours visited, and Julie Dean stayed the night. On Sunday the house filled again when Mother, Bet and Fred came for the day. The weather, however, had turned miserable — wind and rain sweeping across the fields and making the countryside feel more like autumn than high summer. Fortunately, the following day improved.

Joan and Lorna came up to the house and we took a walk around the fields together, enjoying the fresh air after the storm. The farm itself continued to produce its small miracles. One morning, after John had spent hours gathering oats at Flexford, we welcomed the arrival of the first heifer calf from the Jersey bull. It was an exciting moment for the farm and a fine healthy calf. Soon afterwards the harvest finally came to an end. After weeks of work across the fields the last of the crops had been gathered in. Fred came to lend a hand, and Cross appeared again that evening. There was a sense of relief across the farm as the work was finally completed. Visitors arrived in steady numbers. Auntie Sophie came by one day, and soon afterwards Joan and Les arrived with the children for tea. John spent long hours thrashing the oats while I stayed up late finishing another frock. By the end of the day the thrashing too was complete.

Preparations were quietly underway for something rather more exciting. A holiday. After months of work it was finally time to escape for a while.

One afternoon we set off to Braklesham Bay holiday camp by the sea. The place was lively — perhaps a little noisy — but the beach was superb and the sea air refreshing after weeks of farm work. The days quickly settled into the rhythm of seaside life. Morning and afternoon were spent on the beach while the evenings were filled with dancing, horse racing games and entertainment in the camp hall. One particularly hot day the camp held the ceremony to choose its Queen and King — a great spectacle for everyone staying there. I managed to catch a little too much sun myself and spent one evening feeling quite miserable before retreating early to bed and writing a letter home to John.

The children, however, seemed tireless. There were games on the beach, sandcastle competitions and trips to the cinema tent. One evening there was a wonderful dance where the women dressed as men and the men dressed as women — great fun for everyone watching.
A few days later I developed a dreadful cold and had to skip bathing in the sea for a day, settling instead for a quiet walk along the shore while the children watched a Punch and Judy show. The camp concert that evening provided entertainment for everyone.

Life at the holiday camp continued with endless activity. Fancy dress competitions were held for the children. Andrew appeared dressed as a choirboy and won first prize, which delighted him enormously. There were tennis games, sports races and endless trips to the beach for swimming and paddling. At one point John wrote to say he would be coming to visit. When he finally arrived with the Deans and Norman’s family it felt like a small reunion on the beach. They played cricket on the sand and gathered together in the bar afterwards for drinks.
Soon enough they had to leave again, though none of us were quite ready to say goodbye.

The final days of the holiday passed quickly. There were more dances in the evening, more games on the beach and the occasional rain shower that sent everyone running for shelter. Eventually the day came to return home.

After the excitement of the holiday the farm felt strangely quiet again. Bet had looked after everything wonderfully while we were away and had even made several batches of jam. The following days were gentle ones. There was washing to catch up on and the usual housework waiting patiently. Cross arrived one morning carrying twenty-four pounds of plums, which meant another round of jam making and bottling in the kitchen. John returned to the markets at Reading while I spent an entire day ironing. Joan and Les came round one evening for supper.

And so the month drew slowly to its close. The weather remained hot and heavy. Jennifer and Janet went to the circus in Southampton while John attended football practice. A thunderstorm rolled across the countryside that evening, though it brought very little rain. Summer was beginning to soften now.

And so August slipped quietly away. It’s a month that began with the last of the harvest, carried us to the seaside for laughter and sunshine, and returned us home again to jam-making, summer storms… and the slow turning of the farming year.