Andy Vining’s Podcast: My Mother’s Diaries 1948 – 1976: Episode 9 — March and April 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).

March 1949

Early Signs of Spring

March arrived in a rather unsettled mood, as though winter itself had not quite decided to leave. Snow, cold rain and bitter winds swept across the fields around the Hiltonbury farmhouse, and for the first week or so it felt more like February refusing to move on. Yet beneath the cold earth there were signs of change beginning quietly — seeds and fertiliser waiting to be drilled, hens becoming broody, and the longer evenings that always seemed to bring people together for dancing at the village hall.

Life at the farmhouse carried on with its usual rhythm — a mixture of farm work, family life, sewing, neighbours calling in, and the small daily jobs that seemed never quite to end.

Joan was often in and out of the house helping me with the eggs washing and other jobs and one evening she called round before I went off dancing at the Hall to babysit for me while I was out. 

The Hall dance lessons had become  a regular feature of village life, and even when the weather was cold or miserable it always seemed worth the effort to go as everyone seemed to enjoy my lessons

Frank White dropped one evening, sniffling with a bad cold, and I spent a lot of time sitting with the darning basket, repairing socks and stockings while the wireless played quietly in the background. We of course have not yet got any electricity but plans are afoot for the supply to be laid on but there is such a big shortage of equipment I don’t know when it will happen.

 

Visits to family filled many of the days and I went round to see Marjorie, who had been unwell with pleurisy but was now improving. It was a relief to find her already up and moving about. From there I called in at Beechcroft to see  Mother, before returning home to the usual business of cooking, cleaning and looking after the children.

The early part of the month brought a small worry when Andrew came home from school feeling poorly and had to stay in bed for a few days. Children’s illnesses always seemed to arrive at inconvenient moments. While keeping an eye on him I still managed to dig out the front flower bed in the garden, taking advantage of a break in the weather, though the wind remained cold.

Indoors, my sewing basket was never far away. I had begun making new pinafore skirts for the girls from a length of checked gingham. There were several to make, so the cutting out and stitching filled many evenings.

 

The weather then turned truly dreadful — cold rain sweeping across the fields and soaking everything. John went off to the Winchester Bar End sale, one of the farm auctions where farmers gathered to see what livestock or equipment might be worth bringing home. 

That evening Mother and Bella came to Babysit so we escaped the cold for a trip to the pictures with Joan and Les. John joined us too. The film was Cass Timberlane, and though none of us claimed it was particularly wonderful, it made for a pleasant enough evening out.Later reports said that it was an awful film but it had a good cast, starring Spencer Tracy, Lana Turner  and Zachary Scott.

Winter had one more surprise for us. One morning we woke to find the countryside covered in snow again — quite a heavy fall. It lay across the fields and hedgerows like a thick white blanket.

John still managed to go  out to football, determined as always, while the rest of the day was filled with callers. Nora and the family stopped by, and I spent time mending shirts and continuing with the girls’ pinafore frocks.

Mother called round as well but was not feeling particularly well.

In the evening we gathered around the wireless and listened to a radio play which turned out to be rather gloomy and morbid — hardly the thing one wanted on such a cold night but at least the log fires were a great source of heat although it was still very cold up in the bedrooms, 

Sunday brought the unpleasant sight of snow turning into slush everywhere. The roads and paths were a dreadful mess. It seemed far wiser to keep the children at home rather than attempt Sunday School in such conditions. By afternoon the house was filled with restless children, which very nearly drove us all mad.

Fortunately the evening provided some relief. We went to the Parkers where there was old-time dancing. There was plenty of laughter and good music, and by the time we walked home everyone felt far better.

Farm life continued quietly alongside all this social activity.

The weather remained poor for several days, but washing still had to be done and dried whenever the opportunity arose. John attended meetings in Eastleigh and Winchester, and neighbours continued to call by the farmhouse looking to buy poultry or eggs.

One evening I took a carpet over to Mother’s so she could give it a proper clean for me with her vacuum and the Joan babysat looking after Heather and Andrew while I went out dancing at St Boniface Hall this time.

After the dance several of us decided to go to the pictures — Joan, Mrs P, Jack and myself. Afterwards we gathered at Sylvia’s house for a late cup of tea and a good chat before finally making our way home.

Andrew stayed home again with swollen glands, looking and feeling rather miserable but  I managed to slip out to have my hair done as Mrs Fullbrook was there to see Andrew was OK  which felt like a small luxury in the middle of such busy days.

Village life was rarely dull. The Young Farmers’ Club held a dance at Cadnam which proved a very lively evening.

I went to visit Marjorie again and was pleased to see her much improved whilst John and Norman spent the day at another farm sale in Southampton to see if there was anything of interest to buy.

Later I took flowers to the cemetery — a quiet moment of remembrance.

in the middle of the month to mark the anniversary of Dad’s death. Mother and Bella came as well and came to tea afterwards, and there was a thoughtful feeling about the day.

Even so, life did not stop. Joan came over that evening and we had rabbit for supper, bringing Leslie’s brother along with her. Nora and her family also dropped in during the day, so the house remained lively despite the sad memories.

There was good news shortly afterwards when the government finally ended clothes rationing. After years of wartime restrictions, it felt almost strange to think that one might buy clothes without counting coupons.

John began drilling corn in one of the Ramalley fields — an early step in the farming season. But the weather once again interfered and rain soon forced him to stop work.

Trips into Eastleigh followed. We bought John a waistcoat to wear with his new white trousers, and on another outing, I found myself a new jacket and we did not have to use coupons a great relief

At last there came a beautiful spring day — the sort that makes one believe winter really might be ending. The sun shone and the air felt fresh rather than bitter. I even managed a little gardening before going out dancing again that evening.

Frank came by that day to help John with some work on the farm and stayed to supper afterwards.

Domestic tasks filled the following days — finishing the endless darning, altering Heather’s curtains, and preparing tea for visitors who arrived regularly at the farmhouse door.

Mother, Bella, Jean and Lorna came one afternoon, and I made a load of sandwiches which disappeared very quickly.

Then came one of the most exciting farm moments of the month.

A crate arrived containing one hundred and fifty newly hatched chicks — Rhode Island Reds crossed with Brown Leghorns. The arrival of new chicks always brought great activity to the farmyard. They chirped loudly from their box and needed careful settling into their new surroundings.

Joan and Les came over that evening and we shared supper together, talking about the chicks and the farm.

The following evening proved rather hectic when we went to the Parkers again for dancing.

A few days later John and I attended the Police Ball in Winchester. It was quite an event and we did not arrive home until half past three in the morning — far later than usual for farm life and we never learn as it is so difficult when we have to get up so early for milking the same morning.

The days continued with their usual mixture of farm work, cleaning, sewing and social visits.

At one point Lassie came into season, which added to the general farmyard commotion as we certainly did not want her mating with some itinerant dog passing by.

Mrs Fullbrook was a great help with spring cleaning in Janet’s bedroom while Joan once again kept an eye on Heather.

I walked over to Beechcroft one afternoon and stopped at Joan’s for a cup of tea on the way back.

The weather slowly improved. One bright but windy day I managed some work in the front garden before returning indoors to continue sewing the girls’ pinafore skirts.

Joan and I walked around the fields with the dogs on another afternoon, enjoying the fresh air and the small signs of spring appearing along the hedgerows.

Mother came to stay the night towards the end of the month.

And then came a particularly lovely day — the 26th of March, my birthday.

The weather was warm and bright, quite a change from the snow and rain that had begun the month.

Mother returned home in the morning but came back again for lunch. John went off to football, as he often did on Saturdays.

Visitors seemed to arrive one after another throughout the day to wish me Happy Birthday。

That evening Joan and Les took me and John out to Greenways to celebrate my birthday. It was a very pleasant outing and a lovely way to mark the occasion.

Soon afterwards I discovered something delightful back at home — a bantam hen had quietly hatched several chicks of her own.

Finding them tucked away together felt like another sure sign that spring was finally taking hold.

The last days of the month returned to ordinary routines.

Washing and ironing filled one day. Another evening was spent sewing pinafore frocks yet again.

One dance had to be cancelled because the key had jammed in the Boniface Hall door , so Joan and I simply walked home together and had a cup of tea instead.

Mother was not feeling particularly well on one visit and complained that her heart was troubling her, which worried us.

Towards the very end of the month I went shopping in Southampton with Joan.

We met John and the children in town and bought them all new Clarks sandals.

When I added up the cost of the children’s clothes I realised they had come to nearly a pound — quite a considerable sum.

Back at the farmhouse another bantam chick had hatched, bringing the little group to four.

Uve Hatley brought the other Bantams that he wanted to breed from

And so March came to its end.

A month that began with snow and slush had slowly softened into the first signs of spring — chicks in the farmyard, seeds beginning to go into the ground, and longer evenings filled with dancing, laughter and the steady rhythm of everyday life on the farm.

Spring finally begins to take hold at the farmhouse.

and one quiet evening, as the light fades over the fields, the first nightingales of the year begin to sing.

And so we move onto April 1949.

April 1949

By the time April arrived, the long winter that had lingered through March was finally beginning to loosen its grip on the countryside.

The long winter loosens its grip as the clocks are turned forward on the 3rd of April and the children suddenly find themselves going to bed in daylight.

John begins planting peas in the front field and potatoes over Flexford under Knightwood, and manure carts rumble slowly across the fields  preparing the soil for the new season.

In the garden, the first lawns are cut and are planted.

In the farmyard there are chicks everywhere — and even a wild duck hatching her eggs.

There are pony club meetings, football matches, elections in the village, and an evening when the kitchen table erupts into laughter over a ridiculous game of blow football.

The farmhouse was busy as ever.

Indoors, the sewing basket that had occupied so many winter evenings finally reached a satisfying end. The last of the girls’ pinafore frocks were finished and neatly folded and ready to be worn.

There was always something else waiting to be done of course. 

One day John and I went shopping together, calling in on Marjorie and Malcombe along the way. At Beechcroft, Bet and Fred had arrived to spend the weekend with Mother, so there was already a cheerful gathering there.

Back at the farmyard another small milestone had taken place. Lassie had finally been mated with Laddie the Thompsons dog on Baddesley Road. He was Lassies Chosen Husband, which meant we might soon expect a litter of puppies.

The following day Bet and Fred came up to the house, and before long the kitchen table was surrounded by family — Mother, Bella, Bet and Fred all staying for supper. These simple gatherings always seemed to bring warmth to the house, especially after the long winter months.

Village life continued as it always did, sometimes bringing unexpected little dramas.

One morning Cross came in with a badly scalded hand. We did what we could for him with bicarbonate and bandages before sending him on his way again.

The weather was still unsettled though. Some days brought terrible gales that shook the house and bent the trees. Even so, farm work carried on. John spent those windy days carting loads of dung across the fields.

Inside the house I was busy with something rather more cheerful — making Andrew’s birthday cake.

When Andrew’s birthday arrived we celebrated quietly. Mother and Bella were not feeling well enough to come over, but Joan called in during the day.

Later we took the children to the cinema to see Green Green Grass of Wyoming, which they enjoyed enormously. Uncle kindly minded Heather while we were out, and Norman and John brought us home afterwards.

Not long after that the children broke up for the Easter holidays, and the whole house seemed suddenly much noisier. With the weather improving they spent most of their days outdoors, running freely around the garden and fields.

I even managed to slip away one afternoon to have my hair done, leaving Heather at Beechcroft.

Visitors continued to arrive regularly — neighbours dropping by with bits of news, or simply for a chat.

There was also an election that week, so I cycled up to the polling station to cast my vote. Later we heard the result — Mr Toole, The conservative candidate had won comfortably with a majority of five hundred.

With the better weather I was finally able to start working properly in the garden again.

The front lawn was cut for the first time that year, the fresh smell of grass drifting across the garden. It always felt like the true beginning of the outdoor season.

One Sunday I spent the afternoon baking, cakes cooling on the kitchen table while football practice carried on nearby in the field.

Another bright morning I cycled to Ampfield with Jennifer and Julie Dean for a Pony Club meeting. The ride there in the clear spring air was almost as enjoyable as the meeting itself.

Later that evening there was a football match followed by supper at the Wide Awake Café — a lively evening that ended with plenty of laughter.

The poultry yard was becoming noisier every day as more chicks appeared.

I went round to Joan’s house one afternoon to see the chicks she had hatched, and we stayed chatting over a cup of tea while admiring them.

Meanwhile John was busy across the fields muck carting and spreading manure, preparing the ground for the crops that would soon be planted.

Back in the garden I continued working the soil, pulling weeds and turning the beds while the weather held fair.

At last one evening I realised that the great pile of mending had finally been conquered. Every sock and stocking had been darned and the basket was empty — a rare achievement.

There were still plenty of outings and social moments too.

One day Uncle took the children and me to the local meet, which was a lively affair. I even allowed myself two gin and oranges while we watched.

Jennifer went off to the circus with Julie Dean that same day and returned full of excitement.

But perhaps the loveliest moment came later that evening.

As darkness fell over the hedgerows and fields, we heard the first nightingales of the year singing somewhere beyond the farm.

It was a sound that always seemed to mark the true arrival of spring.

Church services continued as usual, sometimes held in the Church Hall. On one beautiful morning we had coffee in the Beetons’ garden afterwards, sitting outside in the sunshine.

Mother and Bella came to tea that afternoon and later we returned to the Beetons again for supper.

One evening the house filled with people when a whole crowd came round for supper. Fred and Vi called in as well, and before long someone suggested a game of blow football across the kitchen table.

The game was ridiculous — played by blowing a tiny ball across the surface — but it caused so much laughter that we could hardly continue eating.

Farm work continued steadily.

John planted another plot of peas and began putting potatoes into the ground.

The garden kept growing too. I mowed the lawn again and again as it sprang up with fresh life, and planted rows of gladioli that promised bright colour later in the summer.

One day a wild duck hatched her eggs nearby, another small sign of the season turning.

Trips into the village were frequent.

I cycled up to buy a present for Nora’s birthday, sometimes pushing Heather along in the pram while the older girls walked beside me.

Visitors continued to come and go.

Marjory and Malcombe called one afternoon, followed by Nora and her family.

Cross arrived another day bringing a box of young chicks with him.

Mother went away for a short visit to Betty along with the Bazeley girls.

Evenings were often spent with neighbours — sometimes at the Parkers, sometimes at the Beetons — always filled with conversation and laughter.

The ordinary work of the house continued alongside everything else.

Washing and ironing filled many mornings. Letters were written. Mending reappeared almost as soon as it had been finished.

One hen was carefully set on eggs, and everyone waited to see if she would hatch them successfully.

Trips to the cinema remained a favourite treat. One evening I went with Lorna to see Johnny Ray in The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, which we both enjoyed very much.

Towards the end of the month the house filled again when Lilly, Wally, Auntie Bella and the boys all came to tea.

On another dull rainy afternoon, I took flowers to the cemetery and then stopped to see Joan for a while.

More gladioli were planted in the garden and Joan and Les came round that evening.

Children continued moving between houses as they always did in village life. Jennifer took Heather to play at the Deans, and young Michael came to our house another day.

Neighbours brought news with them wherever they went. One boy had just had his tonsils removed, which seemed to be happening to half the children in the district that year.

At the very end of the month we decided on a small outing and took the children to The Dell to watch a football match between Romsey and Andover.

Andover won the match, though I must admit I quite enjoyed the afternoon regardless.

By the time April came to its close the lawn had been cut again, the garden planted, the fields prepared and the poultry yard was full of new life.

Spring had settled firmly across the farm.

And so April slipped quietly into memory — a month of growing gardens, newly planted fields, children running free in the sunshine, and the soft song of nightingales drifting across the hedgerows… reminding us that spring had truly come at last.