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Perthshire treasures, and the wedding draws near.

It’s July 3rd 1962 and Gran’s second, and much longed-for holiday in Scotland is about to begin.  Her companion, Pauline Muirhead is not delayed, as Gran had feared; she is there at Euston when Gran, met first by Barry at Waterloo, arrives in time for their ten o’clock departure for Perth.

Once beyond Lancaster, she really feels that she is “in the north”, delighted by unfamiliar flowers such as Wood Cranesbill and Melancholy Thistle, seen by the railway line.

However, with Beattock Summit passed, she is less impressed with Scotland’s visible industry:

We stopped at Carstairs and Motherwell, passing Shield’s Colliery and others with the attendant hideous slag heaps, which are a blot on the countryside, though slightly improved when herbage covers them.

Beyond Coatbridge and Larbert, she has kinder things to say about the area in which I now live:

…the most beautiful scenery as we looked across at the Ochil Hills with the play of sunshine and cloud shadows upon them.  We could see Wallace’s Monument, in which is his sword, commemorating the Battle of Bannockburn.

An entertaining summersault; confounded cats; to Dungeness in a Chevy; wedding cake anxiety; rare breeders at Nursling; Cheddar Gorge – a minor ambition fulfilled; Billie-Jean causes an upset, and all ready for Scotland.

Returning to The Ridge late, on April 11th 1962, after playing Badminton, Gran is surprised to find Jane there.  Excitedly, she writes, “She had brought home her Wedding Gown, the loveliest, daintiest creation of Nottingham Lace in a design of roses”.  And two days later, in Winchester with Jane, she purchases the material for her own dress.

Book 97

The family gathers for Easter.  Gran has made a Simnel Cake, and Jane and Stuart arrive at The Ridge late on April 19th.

“Just as we were finishing lunch, rather late”, Gran writes on the following day:

Barry, Julian and Ricky burst in upon us, a day earlier than expected but, happily we were able to find enough for them to eat, and afterwards all went down to Beaulieu Road, which proved a most enjoyable expedition.

There they hear their first Cuckoo of the Spring but I do not remember this so much as the entertaining but accidental reverse somersault off the top of a five-bar gate, which I performed, when Stuart, attempting to hurdle it, whacked it with his foot, knocking me off my perch!

Easter Day is April 22nd and after lunch, the New Forest is their destination again.  Julian is anxious to see Rufus’ Stone but his Dad is keener, as Gran tells us, to find a particular moss:

After parking the cars, we walked along the valley in which were the trees on which Barry’s moss was said to grow. He was lucky, for following directions read in a report, he went straight to a certain Beech tree and found the moss Zygodon forsteri, which is one of the rarest mosses in Britain and only known from five Beech trees in the Rufus’ Stone area.  It is dark green, with soft leaves and grows in the clefts down which moisture seeps.

Wedding plans – bridesmaids, reception and dress; the Transvaal Castle; Gran falls asleep; chastised by Lord Montagu; the new Hampshire Naturalists’ Trust; eighty-five pounds of marmalade; Slimbridge again; a favourite tree is felled; farewell to Mrs Durst; a rare duck, and hunting caddis-flies.

Gran’s opening entry on January 1st 1962 is:

An owl was calling when I roused this morning, and the snow and frost remained in undisputed control after the coldest night I remember, with certainly the lowest minimum temperature I have ever recorded, only fourteen degrees!

She spends a restful day indoors, listening in the early evening to a televised concert of Johan Strauss’s works, given by the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra, while Jane and Stuart, staying at The Ridge for a few days, explore Farley Mount.

January 2nd dawns, and she remembers, “Our little Ricky is seven today – it is incredible but true!”  Jane has a two day conference in London, and then, on the afternoon of the 5th, she and Stuart, Gran says, “went to see Compton Church, where they are to be married in August…” and on the following day they try to start plans for the Wedding Reception at the Winchester Hotel at St Cross.  “It was not very satisfactory”, she writes.  However, the next day, “Jane and Stuart went to see Potter’s Heron at Ampfield… with a view to Wedding Receptions.  Stuart was charmed by it and it is fairly certain that this is where their Reception will be”.  The pair departs for Nottingham that afternoon. [Read more…] about Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 110)

A small boy travels alone; intelligent Blue Tits; the two minutes silence – forgotten; Ben Lawers – a dream location; good birding at Dibden; more saddening development; uplifting mail; Mr Utterton – remembered; Jane – “the little dark horse”, and John Stuart Brenan.

Book 95

October 26th 1961 is Julian’s last half-term day with his Gran at The Ridge.  She takes him train-spotting on Shawford Station.  On the nearby downs she makes notes of the plants and birds she sees, and she gathers some Gladdon Iris foetidissima seedpods to use as a Winter decoration.

Jane arrives at The Ridge, spending the night on a bed made up on the dining room floor, and she is able to take Julian and Gran to Winchester the next morning, for Julian to catch the train home.  Gran writes.  “I waited anxiously to hear that Julian had reached home safely – he seemed such a little boy to travel alone – but Barry was meeting him at Waterloo”.

Gran, devoted Royalist, is pleased to record this on November 3rd:

A special announcement on the Television brought us the good news that Princess Margaret, Duchess of Snowdon, gave birth this morning to a son, who will be Lord Lindley, and both are well.

Three days later, suffering with a migraine and still depressed by family difficulties, she nevertheless, at the end of the day, says, “But reflecting now… I can find some cause for uplift of mind and spirit”:

…there was evidence of the intelligence of our Tits, though not altogether appreciated by Jean Hockridge, that is well-known to me and not in the least resented by me. They had pecked holes in the metal caps of her milk bottles and had taken some of the cream, and had done their utmost to tear out the lid of a carton of cream but had, I think, been interrupted.  I do not believe they would have given up the attempt.

This behaviour, by Great and Blue Tits, appears to be a thing of the past, as milk delivered to the doorstep nowadays is usually homogenised and is thus without the tempting “cream on the top”, which was nutritionally worth the birds’ effort in securing. I think the birds must have first discovered this food source when doorstep milk, frozen in the early morning cold, expanded and forced the metal tops off the bottles.

[Read more…] about Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 109)

A longing for Scotland; unobservant shoppers; Heddle Nash – sadly departed; Ivan and Jill; enchanting Cranbury; portly peers; an unbelievable letter; wild places – a necessary balm to the soul; the Crimson Speckled, and a grandson is entertained.

Book 94

Since her visit to Speyside, two years ago, Gran has written many times of an almost unbearable and romantic desire to return to Scotland.  This is reawakened on August 4th 1961, when the mail arrives:

A card from John Gunningham, who is at Inchnadamph, in Sutherland, today told me that Dark-red Helleborine, Mountain Avens and Yellow Saxifrage are growing behind the hotel in which he is staying, and the whole area is “simply devastating”.  Certainly the picture of Loch Assynt, on the card, is very beautiful and increases my longing to visit Scotland again.

[Read more…] about Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 108)

An elusive Hoopoe; exhausted on Chesil Beach; a Glow-worm in Grove Road; an all-British Women’s Final; meeting a hero; Barry runs a mile; a small extravagance; questions from Julian, and little figures strike the hour.

Gran makes her way into Southampton en route to a field trip in Dorset on June 4th 1961, and a roadside sight, relatively unusual in those days, upsets her: “A sad sight at Bassett was a beautiful Badger lying dead beside the road, evidently killed by a passing car during the night”.  She continues:

…. I dashed into Aunt Em’s to tell Mother I would be late back tonight and found Brother there.  He imparted the startling news that there was a Hoopoe at West Wellow and he saw it last weekend with Doreen Peters, who I am to phone tomorrow in the hope that she can show it to me one day this week!

This is another birdy event, much like Gran’s putative Melodious Warblers, that has gone down in family history, Norris, on this occasion, apparently nearly ending up in a ditch in his excitement when he first glimpsed this rare visitor while driving through West Wellow.  Why he did not alert Gran to its presence at once, we never heard.  Doreen Peters picks up Gran in her car on June 7th.  Gran says of the bird, “it was on a grassy patch close to the road by a heath on the Brockenhurst Road out of West Wellow.  We were, however, unlucky and did not see it…” It will be many years until Dad shows her her first Hoopoe, at Portland, and I look forward to reading of Gran’s excitement on that occasion!

A Spring day out; a mystery bird; mint stamps from New Zealand; Julian needs stitches; Ladybird books; the maiden voyage of the SS Canberra, and Jimmy Edwards – unintentionally funny.

The absence of Book 91 in the sequence of Gran’s journals brings us to Book 92 and mid-April 1961. It is some time since I included a representative section of the more mundane of her daily writing so I have elected now to include in full, her description of a typical Spring day out – an example of much of the work that I usually heavily edit in order to avoid repetition.

Book 92

April 16th:

Today dawned fine and bright and a Goldfinch was singing in the garden when I went to read the thermometer.  Goldfinches were also singing as I went up Hiltingbury Road to catch the bus for the B.E.N.A. outing at Alresford, and, whilst waiting for it, I was thickly showered with the white petals from the Wild Cherry trees on the opposite side of the road as they fluttered down and were borne across the road by the wind.  They were a lovely sight in the sunshine.  Wayfaring Tree was flowering in the wayside hedge at St Cross and I saw more during our walk at Alresford.  Three Grey Wagtails were chasing over the stream by the Willow Tree Inn at Winchester and I saw many more of these lovely birds also around Alresford. [Read more…] about Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 106)