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Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 136)

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Happy in Church; Gran’s “Gilbertiana”; plans disrupted by “The Troubles”; pleasure and pride; Oxford or Cambridge?; a new position for Stuart; Gran yelps; Greaty is quite overcome, and a holiday with Brother again.

Book 140

Gran is always very much at home in her beloved Compton Church, and on March 12th 1972 she goes there again, for Matins, and is:

…particularly happy to do so as the new Bishop of Southampton, who now resides in Compton, preached the Sermon and pronounced the Blessing. He took as his theme for his Sermon the vital part to be played by parents during their children’s critical growing period between the ages of eight and eighteen.  This was inspired by two things – today is Mothering Sunday, and next Saturday several of our young parishioners are to be confirmed.

Gran’s collection of her so called “Gilbertiana”; press cuttings, articles, books, drawings and letters concerning Gilbert Whitley, found its way into my hands recently.  A difficult search in Australia for a more appropriate custodian of these items was ultimately fruitful, owing to Gran’s recording of the birth of one of Gilbert’s great-nephews, son of his niece, Pamela Clare Frewer.  Pam married Lazaros Archontides, a Greek musician.  Their son Bernhard, today better known as Panayotis Archontides, is an internationally acclaimed pianist, based in London. Gran writes of the little family on March 13th:

Post brought a First Day Cover from Gilbert in Australia – very welcome – and his letter contained the news that Pam and Lazaros, with baby Bernhard, are soon due in Sydney.  There will be much rejoicing.

A small selection of Gran’s “Gilbertiana” – his books, illustrations, scientific papers and photographs.

We learn something more of the abundant Crocus tomassinianus in The Ridge’s garden, the progeny of which have now spread throughout the Hiltingbury area:

The Crocuses in the front garden were a glorious picture today and it seemed impossible to believe now that dear Aunt Em and I rescued them from her garden in Bassett when her house was demolished by a land mine during the war. We brought them here, on the bus in an enamel bath, which the blast had thrown into the garden from goodness knows where, and I remember the amazed comments of the other passengers on the bus.

Gran rarely writes of the politics of her time, but we are reminded that these years are marked by “The Troubles” in Northern Ireland, and they disrupt her plans for television viewing on the 24th March:

I wanted to listen to, and watch “Gala Performance” on Television later.  Was I frustrated!  My programme was postponed until ten minutes past ten owing to a lengthened account of the Prime Minister’s plans for Northern Ireland and this is too late for me.  Do not think that I am not full of sympathy for the troubled people of this area, but we have heard about these plans time and time again today and it always seems to me that the sordid and the troublesome is so often given an overplus of time and attention at the expense of the beautiful, and this continual repetition does little to help the situation.  Moon and stars were shining when I came upstairs.

Gardening, in her characteristic fashion, takes up much of her time during the Spring.  On March 26th, having already spent the day before, weeding:

I did little in the house today, apart from cooking the dinner, but I made a quite amazing impression on the back garden, which had got out-of-hand in recent years, though, after yesterday’s efforts, my arthritic limbs refused to get going at first.   As soon as the dinner was cleared away I was in the garden again, more weeding and making clear the lines of the flower beds, though these followed where Violets and Primroses dictated as they had wandered all over the place.

And, as usual, she notes what the birds are up to, and the Blue Tits are exhibiting a behaviour new to her:

Blue Tits have been carrying nesting material into the box today and appeared to be stealing grass from somebody’s nest in a Cypress tree next door.  One flew repeatedly into this tree and twice I saw it carry long grass stems into the nesting-box.  I have never seen Tits use grass before, only moss collected from the ground.

Feathers, hair and moss form the bulk of a Blue Tit’s nest, but it will use some grass.  Image by Strep72 via Flickr.

On the last day of March, unable to contain her grandmotherly pride, she addresses Adrian, to whom her journal is dedicated, with this:

In the Summer of 1952 I heard from Barry that I was to be a Grandmother for the first time and I hoped that the coming babe would bring me comfort and help me in my sadness over the loss of you, Adrian, my dear.  That baby, Julian, was born the following January, exactly on the sixth anniversary of your passing, on the 12th, and the joy and comfort he has always brought me was capped this morning, when I was engaged in the mundane chore of cleaning the grate!  The back door opened and that self-same Julian, now nineteen, came in to see me in the course of a practice run.  He was wearing his new white tracksuit, with “England” across the back and the English rose on the pocket, and my pleasure and pride knew no bounds…

There is more cat trouble on April Fools’ Day, when one has the nerve to enter the house:

A little gardening this morning but its soothing effect was somewhat shattered later when an infernal cat came in the kitchen window and, when I yelled at it, it scrambled over the draining-board again, upsetting my precious plants on the window ledge.

Where Gran yelled at the cat.

Later though, partisan as ever, she enjoys some television:

Today is Boat Race day and I watched it on Television this afternoon.  Cambridge won again easily, for the fifth year in succession and has always been my favourites [perhaps because son-in-law Stuart Brenan went to that University].  I cannot change my allegiance when Julian goes to Oxford, but he will be running and not rowing, and I shall want him to win, of course.

Joan Adelaide Goater - her journal about Chandler's Ford.

Barry and family are down for Easter.  These family visits are exhausting for Gran, but she loves the company, and this time derives much pleasure from outings to Shawford and Ampfield Woods, during which she hears and sees various summer migrant birds for the first time this year.  Then, on April 8th, she is “scuttling about putting things to rights” following the family’s return to Bushey, when daughter Jane and her two children, Katherine and Andrew, arrive, somewhat earlier than expected.

There is an indication of changing times and lifestyles on the next day. Gran writes of the children: “Jane and I took them to Shawford by bus, a means of transport hardly known to them!”  But memories of Barry and Jane’s early years are also stirred:

The children happily used the Playhouse, now a tool-shed, for its original purpose this morning, when we pushed mowers and wheelbarrow into as small an area as possible and left the rest for occupation.

The “Playhouse”, still in The Ridge’s back garden after about ninety years.

Book 141

More changes in Chandler’s Ford are recorded on April 21st:

This afternoon I went down to the lower village to collect my shoes, which had been repaired… I called in to see Mary and afterwards she took me into the garden of “Seven Gables”, where she had been given permission to pick flowers for Church decoration.  It grieved me to see this once magnificent garden almost derelict, for I knew it in its prime forty years ago, but it is sold and planning permission sought for the house to be demolished and several inferior ones to be built in its place.

It is nearly three years since Gran’s last holiday with Norris.  She is pleasantly reminded of it on May 14th:

This evening there was a delightful programme on Snowdonia, and I saw Evan Roberts up Cwm Idwal and another shot of him looking for Lloydia, though it did not say where… I knew well where he was, and also how beautiful is Lloydia, for Brother and I went with Evan Roberts three years ago next month.  I was pleased to hear that he used to be a slate miner on Moel Saibod and started studying Natural History then.  He was chief Warden of the Snowdonia National Park when we met him but he is retired now, and the University of Wales has made him an honorary MSc.  A well-deserved reward.

Significant changes are afoot for the Brenan family.  Gran receives a letter from Jane on the 23rd, which:

…gave us the good news that Stuart has secured the post of Assistant Headmaster at a Voluntary Aided Grammar School, which is to become a Sixth-form College in the near future.  It is at Hutton, just south of Preston, in Lancashire.  The only snag from my point of view is that it is still further away than Pattingham and my chances of seeing them even more remote, except that, as Jane pointed out, it takes them nearly all day to get down here now and it will only be two hours longer.  They do not relish the move to another house and all it entails but it is a good promotion for Stuart, which he richly deserves…

And later that day, she discovers another of Life’s snags: “I saw Dr Crozier this morning about the pain in my right thumb, and, when he pressed it, I yelped at him!  Whereupon he said “rheumatoid arthritis”, and forbade tennis until the acute inflammation had died down”.

Book 142

On May 26th, Gran writes:  “Mother’s ninety-fifth birthday and what a day it proved to be!”  She gives details:

Mother’s excitement started with several beautiful cards arriving, mainly of flowers or birds, and she had already been pleased with our gift of a blue bed-jacket (knitted by me), which Brother and I gave her before he left yesterday.  Mrs Hillier brought her a gift when she came to work this morning… Tommy and Nellie Veal came unexpectedly this afternoon and brought Mother a lovey pink Pelargonium, and Tommy and Bob Fowler sent he a lovely flower arrangement of pale pink single Chrysanthemums, deep pink Alstrumarias and pink Carnations to tone.  Gorgeous!  Then at four o’clock, Ruth Kingston and the children brought her a wonderful “Hooley” for her birthday tea – ham, a salad artistically arranged in a wooden bowl, a trifle topped with fresh cream and decorated with black grapes, and a sponge cake with fresh whipped cream inside!  Helen and Jenny, aided by Ruth, sang “Happy Birthday to you”, and the old lady was quite overcome.

I thought it was an extremely kind thing for Ruth to do, especially as they are such very new neighbours.

Gran paints Scots Pine on the 27th, “a twig from our own garden, and it made a beautiful picture when finished but it took much patience and a long time to do!”, she writes.  And on the next day, we discover that she still carries out an annual dawn chorus survey for the Glanton Bird Research Station in Northumberland:

After waking about every hour in spite of having set the alarm clock for three o’clock this morning, I eventually got up at half-past two, and, in an odd assortment of warm garments over my nightdress, went to sit in the front porch to record the dawn chorus.

“…and, in an odd assortment of warm garments over my nightdress, went to sit in the front porch”.

The days of Nightjars, Tree Pipits and Woodlarks in Hiltingbury are long gone, but amongst the commoner birds, she now records the newly resident Collared Dove, she still hears several Cuckoos, and a Woodcock flies over the house uttering its distinctive squeak and grunt call.

On May 30th Gran is given a celebratory bottle of wine, a very rare commodity at The Ridge, by a visitor seeking help.  She says:

Tommy Fowler brought Kathleen McKeith to see me and my flower paintings… she is one of the ten children of my childhood Doctor and I went to school with her but had not seen her since I left, fifty-one years ago.  Her family now grown up, she wants to try her hand at painting and wants me to give her some help.  I said I will try but it will not be easy, since I have no idea how I do it, and always feel that it is not I who actually achieves the results that show on paper.

“Brother and I spent a quiet evening planning and listing for our holiday at the end of next week”, she writes with restrained enthusiasm on the 31st.  Earlier that day there had been no such restraint, as brother and sister drove with joy through East Hampshire in a search for the wild orchids they love, renewing acquaintance with many species including Sword-leaved Helleborine, and Fly and Man Orchids.

June 2nd brings more visitors to The Ridge: Joan and Granger Forson who had accommodated Gilbert Whitley for much of his recent visit to England.  They have links with Nigeria, and bring stamps from that country for Gran’s collection.  Gran continues:

We enjoyed talking about our respective families and I heard that their son, Andrew and his family, which includes besides his own two children, two abandoned Nigerian babies whom they hope to adopt, are coming home.  When the question of equipment for the visit arose I offered to lend them our high chair, now seventy years old, and they accepted delightedly… We were about to load the high chair into their car when an old gentleman, whom I do not know, looked at it intently and then came over and exclaimed how wonderful it was.  I told him that my Father brought it from America for my Brother, a baby seventy years ago, and he was amazed!… It has certainly done well for I cannot think how many babies have used it over the years.

June 4th:

I was much disturbed to hear this morning that Jane and Stuart, with the children, had been involved in a car accident on Friday and their new car was a “write-off” but, thank God, they all escaped with minor bruises and slightly stiff necks for Jane and Stuart.

She learns later that:

…they had been on their way to look for a house near Hutton for September and were only travelling at twenty-five miles per hour… when a woman, coming in the opposite direction, suddenly turned right and drove straight into their car…

A bus station, with house and large garage is for sale in Hutton and Jane and Stuart would like to acquire this but they think many people will be after it!”

On the 9th, Greaty is happily transported to her temporary accommodation, enabling Gran and Norris to enjoy a worry-free holiday in Wales:

…we took Mother to the Home at Coldharbour Wood near Rake in the Meon Valley where she is to stay whilst Brother and I are away.  She thoroughly enjoyed the journey there, it being through some of the finest scenery in Hampshire… The matron is Mrs Prescott, a kindly Dutchwoman who welcomed Mother as a guest in her home and promised us that she would be well looked after.”

“Then”, Gran says, “we packed, and cut tomorrow’s lunch before phoning Barry about meeting him and to ask about Marsh Andromeda on Tregaron Bog.  I particularly want to find and paint this flower”.

The very localised Marsh Andromeda or Bog Rosemary – on Gran’s “want list”. Image courtesy of Natural England/Peter Rowarth via Flickr.

They leave for mid-Wales on June 10th at half-past eight in the morning. The journey is described in some detail; every town and village passed, birds and wayside flowers seen, until finally:

We were soon at Llyswen, and at Erwood crossed the river to Aberedw, through the village and were soon at our destination, Ty-newydd, where we were warmly welcomed by our hostess, Mrs McSweeney.  The first thing we saw on arrival was a beautiful cock Pied Flycatcher…

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Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 48) Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 49) Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 61) Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 111) Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 126)
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