Andy Vining’s Podcast: My Mother’s Diaries 1948 – 1976: Episode 15 — March and April 1950

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).

March & April 1950 — Spring Returning at Hiltonbury

March came in still cold, though bright enough, and I remember thinking that the light had changed before the weather had. There were one or two days that looked almost cheerful, though the warmth was not really there yet.

One day I went over to Pencoed on the Baddesley Road  to see a furniture sale, but did not buy anything. It did me no harm to look, though. Joan Buckett and the family came to tea afterwards, so the day ended sociably enough.

The next day I weighed myself — nine stone eight pounds and twelve ounces and then I  cycled up to the village so with all the walking and cycling I do I don’t put on too much weight .

 The Dean’s van called to take the high chair and cot over to Bob’s, which made the house feel slightly altered somehow, as things do when children are growing and furniture begins moving on to the next place. That evening we went to a Winchester Chamber of Commerce dance. The usual crowd went, and it was quite good.

On Friday I went to the village in the morning and then dashed into Southampton in the afternoon, where I bought material for a new frock and skirt. I cut out the frock in the evening while poor John went to bed with a toothache.

Saturday was a lovely day, with the usual visitors in and out. Nora came, though she did not look at all well. John went to hospital about his tooth, so he missed the football at The Dell and Saturday 4 March 1950 and Southampton won 3 – 1 against Cardiff City so John was sorry he missed it.

In the evening Inges came and after they left  I listened to a play on the wireless and did some more of my frock. 

The wireless was full of serious talk just then — that atom spy case Scientist Klaus Fuchs was all over the news, and it did sound a most unsettling business. Still, one cannot sit and think about Russia all day when there is sewing to be done and tea to make.

Sunday was beautiful again, almost like summer, and I worked on my frock in the afternoon and evening, quite contentedly. On Monday I was up early for washing, did ironing in the afternoon, and finished the frock in the evening. There is a particular satisfaction in finishing a thing properly.

Tuesday was one of those full, bustling days when there never seems to be an empty chair in the house. Uncle Fred and Vi came up, there was dancing in the afternoon, Tommy Parker called in the evening, and by supper time Mother, Bella, Vi and Fred were all there. What a day it was — callers all day.

The next day Andrew was at home with a cold, and I mowed the front lawn, which had grown like a field. In the evening we went to the Growmore dance at Upham with the Deans and the Bucketts, and had a drink at the Bucketts afterwards in Allington Lane.

 It was jolly good fun. These dances did everyone good, I think. With money still tight and rationing not yet gone, a dance or a visit to the pictures meant more than perhaps it would have done in easier times.

I got a cold the following day. Uncle and Vi called and told us Fred had given in his notice, which gave everyone something to discuss. I did a spot of gardening and went to bed early. 

On Friday I stayed home, did some darning, and South came and distempered the hall. I did a bit more gardening in the afternoon, cut out my skirt, and darned all evening. There seemed no end to darning in those days. Clothes were still too valuable to let go easily, and one made do and mended because one had to.

Saturday brought the usual Saturday callers all day. John was milking in the afternoon, the Deans came in for the evening, Julie stayed the night, and we had ninety-four eggs that day, which was very good.

On Sunday Jennifer, Janet and I went to church. It was the anniversary of Dad’s death, so we went to the cemetery and took flowers, then called in to see Les and Joan. I cycled up to see Mother in the afternoon. John was not milking, so he started on the garden. It was one of those days that held both sadness and comfort together.

Monday, I washed, and ironed before tea, then went to bed early. The car went wrong and Mr Tring fetched it away, which was an annoyance. 

On Tuesday a new cowman came for an interview and was to take Bill Wren’s cottage, Bill moving on to Flexford. Jenkin came and there was a bit of fuss about the drains, though it was all sorted out in the end.

Tommy Hughes and Ricky Coats came in for the evening.

Wednesday was Uncle’s birthday. Joan came in the afternoon with Carole, and we went for a walk in the fields. Joan and John Buckett came in the evening too. On Thursday I cycled up to the village, called in to the Deans for some oyster shells for the chickens, did some washing in the afternoon, and called in to see Mother in the evening.

Then on Friday I went with John to Bob Fortune’s with a heifer calf, and afterwards we did shopping in Eastleigh and Chandler’s Ford. Joan called in, and that evening we went to a dance at The Cadena in Winchester with the usual crowd and had a great time. Saturday was the usual sort of Saturday again, with Bet and Fred home for the weekend, and I went to sleep in the dining room all evening, which shows how much all the coming and going can take out of one.

Mothering Sunday was a happy day. We all went to tea at Beechcroft, including Jennifer on Smokey. We got home a bit late, so I went to bed early. The next day rain came at last, though it cleared later, and I got the ironing done in the afternoon while John went to a lecture in Romsey. I did all the darning.

On Tuesday I went to Eastleigh in the morning with John, called in at the Deans, and Jennifer was at home with a cold. There was dancing in the afternoon, and I did some more of my skirt in the evening. Wednesday brought a quick dash with Uncle to look at a bedroom suite. We decided to buy it, and four more chairs for the kitchen as well. I cycled up to Beechcroft with laundry, had tea at West’s, and Dunford and family came in for the evening.

Thursday it rained all day, but there was great excitement because the new bedroom suite and chairs arrived. I baked a cake in the afternoon, did more darning in the evening, and telephoned Joan, who had been to the Ideal Home Exhibition all day. Friday I dug up some plants for Mr Ward, fished out old clothes for the rummage sale, and Joan called so we went for a stroll round the fields. I did some of my skirt in the evening.

Saturday was lovely weather again, with the usual Saturday crowd. Bet and Fred were home complete with furniture, Diana Powdrill came to tea with Janet, and I finished the skirt that evening.

Then came my birthday. John gave me a super box of chocolates, and Mother, Bella, Bet and Fred came to tea. In the evening the Beetons, Parkers and Deans came to supper. Sooty had four kittens the same day, which somehow made it all feel even more festive.

The next day was a nice one. I ironed before dinner, and John and Les went to see a farm Mr Dickens wanted to buy. Joan came up, Cross came in the evening, and I darned all evening. Then came a very cold and wet day, with Mrs Fullbrook spring-cleaning Jennifer’s room while I went to the Hall for dancing. I did darning again in the evening.

Betty came one day, and it was a hectic business perming hair. I thought it would be all right when it was set. That evening we went to the pictures with the Deans and saw The Happiest Days of Your Life. Everyone seemed to be talking about that film, and it was a comfort to laugh. There was so much grim news in the papers and on the wireless — talk of the Government only just clinging on after the election, and rumours of Churchill perhaps coming back before long — that people were glad enough of an evening’s escape.

Bet came up to tea another day and rode Smokey. Fred worked on the tractor all day, and in the evening we went over to the Dunfords. On Friday I did a spot of gardening, Fred was up working for us on the tractor again, and I felt tired enough to go to bed early.

And from there, almost without noticing, we were into April.

The month began with Andrew’s entrance examination at St Mary’s. I took him in and hoped he would get in, though I was afraid his reading was a bit shaky. John went to football, and the Deans called in during the evening for a chat.

Then came a rotten day, cold and windy, with John off with Les and Dickens to look over a farm at Netley. Bet and Fred called after tea. I got up early another morning and did the washing, but had earache all day and felt rotten. Joan called in, and Bet and Fred stayed the night. I felt a bit better the next day, though not much, and the girls broke up for Easter, so there was the usual crowd of children while John and Fred were busy all day at Flexford.

One day the pig was killed. John was still very busy at Flexford, Joan called in the afternoon, and John and Andrew went to the dentist. I did not feel too good in the evening, so I went to bed, and Julie stayed the night.

Then came Andrew’s birthday. I took the children to Eastleigh shopping, Geoffrey came to tea for his birthday, and Norman and Mr Cross came in the evening. Another day the children had a lucky day and made a circus in the yard. John gardened all morning, Auntie Jill, Melly, Jack Craft and the children all came, and Win and Frank stayed to supper.

There was a stretch of terrible wind that month that really got on my nerves. The kitchen chimney smoked all the time and filled the place with smoke. We had a lovely bit of our roast pig for dinner one day, and in the evening Mother and Bella, Bet and Fred came up. John and I went to the pictures with Norman and Kath in Winchester. 

The wind was just as bad the next day — kitchen full of smoke again. I walked to church for the three o’clock service, found the brakes on my bicycle had gone so I had to walk home pushing my bike. Once home I  made brawn with the pig’s head, and then dozed in the dining room all evening.

Easter Monday, Bank Holiday though it was, was terrible again — cold, windy and very dull. I did the washing as usual, John went to football,and saw Southampton win  1 – 0 against Sheffield United and while he was there I ironed in the afternoon and darned all evening. Bank Holiday or not, there was no magic in it.

Then things brightened a little. I dashed out on the bicycle to the children’s meet at Ampfield, which was jolly good. Jennifer brought a new bridle for Smokey, and I went over to tea at Nora’s by bus in the afternoon. The weather was better the next day and we planted rose trees in the front garden. Tommy called in with a sample of tiles for the hall, Julie stayed the night, and I went round to Beechcroft for a bit.

I helped John put Nitro Chalk on the kale in the hockey field one day, and Joan came up and walked round the field with me. Diana Powdrill came in for the night. Mr Monk and Mr Chapman called from Sangamo and brought my kitchen clock, which pleased me. Betty came up in the afternoon, I did some gardening, put hens’ eggs under bantams, and Cross came again as we were getting the house ready for chicks.

Then John fetched one hundred and seventy-five day-old chicks from Cheeke. Jennifer, Janet and Julie went to the Hursley Hunt point-to-point in the horse box, Marjory called in with Mrs Trip and family, and in the evening Mother, Betty, Fred, Bella and the Deans were all in for supper. A proper full day.

The clocks went on during the night, and I did not feel much like getting up. I cut the front lawn, the chicks seemed all right, and I cut out new nylon evening knickers, which felt rather modern. The next day I washed and ironed before lunch, it rained all afternoon and evening, and I painted the hall door with an undercoat while John went to Masonic instruction in Hursley.

John took the children and me into Southampton shopping one day, and in the evening we went to the pictures with Joan and Les and saw Three Came Back, which was very good. On another afternoon Heather, Janet and I went up to see Grannie, Bella and Betty, while John went to football and I darned after tea.

There were lovely spring days too. Joan brought Carole and her mother to see the chicks and kittens, Betty walked up in the evening, Tommy and Lorna called, and John was potato planting. Another nice day, quite like spring at last, I did some more darning in the afternoon while John finished planting potatoes at Flexford. Bet came up, and later Winnie Dean and I  to the flicks and we saw The Blue Lamp, a really excellent film.

It was one of those films you came away from feeling you had seen something quite real.  It showed the friendly local bobby, George Dixon who everyone recognised doing his duty and serving the community.

Andrew started reading The Eagle, with that Dan Dare in it, and was very taken with it, like so many boys. People were saying comics would either improve children or ruin them, depending on who you asked, but it kept him interested and quiet for a bit, which could not be all bad and I hope improve his reading

One lovely day again John went to football. It was Nora’s birthday, and I gave her a bicycle pump. Nora, Stanley and company called as usual, Mr Fry came in the evening, and later we went down to the Deans to see how their dog  Jenny was getting on, as she was expecting puppies.

Then the cold wind returned. Cross came in the morning, Bet and Fred called in the evening, and Joan and Les came for a short while.

Andrew fell off his bike and cut his face, which upset us all.

Another terrible day brought cold and snow showers. I managed to get the ironing done before lunch, went up for a perm and had my hair cut very short again, and Bet and Fred called in for a bit.

It stayed cold with snow showers. Mrs Fullbrook was spring-cleaning my bedroom, Betty came up to lunch, I went to the stream with Heather and the girls started back to school again. 

John went to Chalk’s for tennis, and then  there was a heavy fall of snow in the night. The next morning there it was — thick snow everywhere. 

The snow cleared quickly and John tried out the new  disc harrows and showed  Les who had brought his nephew in for a cup of tea.

I had a streaming cold so I stayed in all day and darned in the evening. Win telephoned to say Jenny had not pupped yet.

John tried to drill barley the next day, but the ground was still  too wet.

I went to Southampton with Win, Julie and Heather, and we went to the convent to see about Jennifer’s trip to France. 

Jenny had two puppies at last, and Tommy  Parker telephoned to say he had managed to get tickets for the Cup Final.

There was another rotten day when I filled in the cracks of the hall window ledges with plastic wood and finished the darning. 

Then came the Cup Final outing itself. John and Frank Dean and Roger went up to Wembley to see it. I went into Winchester with the Mannings and later  Nora called.

John telephoned from Wembley to say they were staying on to see the ice hockey as well.

 Win came up for the evening, and the men did not get home until about quarter to twelve, having had a marvellous day. I cooked eggs and bacon for them.

The next day was quite uneventful after all that, and I did some more painting in the hall.

All through April the wireless carried on in the corner with its mixture of home and abroad. There was talk of Britain recognising Israel, though that seemed a long way from our own concerns. There was respectful mention of the King carrying on with his duties, and people always listened to anything about the Royal Family. But nearer home there was Easter, football, shopping, dances, cinema, children home from school, and the endless business of feeding people, mending clothes, cleaning rooms and trying to keep ahead of the weather.

And that is really how I remember those two months bestNot as headlines, though the headlines were there. Not as history, though history was going on all around us.

But as daily life lived in full measure —washing steaming in the kitchen, music at the dance, mud in the yard, tea for callers, chicks under heat, kittens in a basket, wind down the chimney, smoke in the kitchen  wireless voices in the background ,and spring never quite arriving all at once, but in fits and starts. March had still felt half in winter. April tried to be spring, though the snow had other ideas. But the work went on,the family came and went and life at Hiltonbury carried as it always did — busy, untidy, companionable and still no news of electricity coming to the farm.

But still as the days lengthened…the light returned…and life moved quietly forward.

It is not any single moment that remains…but the feeling of it all, a house never empty… hands never idle…and a life built… day by day…together.

And so I look forward to reading to you next Sunday from My Mothers Diaries when we move on into May and June 1950. I hope you can be with me then. Thank you for listening.