Forty Years in Chandler's Ford - a Journal (Part 137)

Three birds new to Gran, and several flowers; a “nice piece” about Julian; Nastase – “the idol of the crowd”; a visit from Gilbert’s sister; the Fowlers retire; Gran is sixty-eight; the Brenans move house; the “ghost of a frustrated artist”; Barry collects things other than moths, and “my life is rushing away”

Gran and Norris spend twelve days in mid-Wales during June 1972, loving the countryside they explore, together, and sometimes in the company of others. Their host, referred to as “Mac” is knowledgeable about the local breeding birds of prey and he takes them to see the nests of Sparrowhawk and Merlin, the latter, unusually, in a low Hawthorn tree, rather than on the ground, where he has set up hides for photography.

They are not successful in their early quest for the much-wanted Marsh Andromeda at Tregaron Bog, and Red Kites also elude them for several days, in spite of time spent in one of the species’ well-known haunts, the Abergwesyn Valley. Buzzards, Redstarts, Tree Pipits, Ravens and Whinchats are watched there, and at last, Gran records their success with Red Kite, and this at a time long before species reintroduction schemes when the only Kites in the UK bred in mid-Wales, and numbered about twenty pairs. No wonder she was excited:

Suddenly a large bird flew over the hill and Brother, whose hands were occupied with his camera, said, “Look at that one!” and there was our first Red Kite! Great excitement! We sat on a rock on the hillside to watch…”

The Red Kite – now a familiar site in many parts of the UK and even recorded over Hiltingbury. Gran would be amazed! Image by Tony Hisgett via Flickr.

On June 17th:

We were just in the middle of breakfast when someone said, “Here’s the Postman!” So it was, but at the same time Barry and Ricky looked in the dining-room window… and were soon warmly welcomed…”

They drive that day to Borth Bog, where Gran, helped by Dad, is pleased at last to find her Marsh Andromeda, unfortunately in fruit rather than in flower, but nevertheless a new record for her.

In the evening, after a full day already spent in the field with him, Mac takes Gran and Norris out again and, unexpectedly, Gran adds another bird to her life list. She writes of this, also including a little information about her neighbours whose Lake Road garden adjoins the rear garden of The Ridge:

…he took us to the old mill, which my neighbours at home, Mr and Mrs Carmichael, have bought for their retirement. It is at present very dilapidated and will need much restoration. Then Mac took us to the Hanelwdd Quarries where we went up the mountain behind the workings and then walked some distance… suddenly Brother stopped dead and said, “Look”, and there, on the bough of a low tree, regarding us solemnly, was a beautiful baby Long-eared Owl, the first I have ever seen. He, or she, was beautiful, soft, fluffy grey, with the prominent “ears” just becoming visible. As we watched he flew strongly towards some rocks”

A recently fledged Long-eared Owl, much like the one found by Norris. Image by Antje Schultner via Flickr.

They bid a reluctant farewell to the MacSweenies and mid-Wales on the 24th, having had a wonderful time and knowing that memories of their experiences (“a meadow full of Globe Flowers”, Red Catchfly flowering at Stanner Rocks, and White Cinquefoil flowering along the nearby River Wye, of which Gran writes, “It was very exciting to see such a notable rarity in its one riverbank station”) will remain with them for years to come.

Mother is collected from her temporary accommodation the next day and Gran says: “The morning was spent trying to get my mind to concentrate on household chores!” Some chores may have been done that day but Gran is out again in the evening, hoping for another new bird for her list:

…Hazel phoned to say that there had been a definite report of a Savi’s Warbler along the river at Brambridge and she and I dashed along there just after seven o’clock… After much patient watching and listening we eventually saw and heard what we felt sure was a Savi’s Warbler, singing on a particular thistle head, to which it returned after flights down into the grass. It was darker than any other warblers I have seen, with white throat and buffish breast and a longer tail. The back was not streaked as in a Grasshopper Warbler and it was less skulking, singing quite obviously on its thistle. The song is similar to the reel of a Grasshopper Warbler, which rules out any other member of the family.

Checking “The Handbook” that evening convinces them of the bird’s identity and she and Brother go again to Brambridge next morning. They see no Savi’s Warbler this time but they have good views of Grasshopper Warblers, “looking quite different from the bird of the day before”, Gran writes.

Perhaps not that exciting a looking bird to a non-birdwatcher but very rare, subtly plumaged, with a broad tail and a distinctive song which makes the Savi’s Warbler a much-sought species in the UK. Image by Ron Knight via Flickr.

And the same day she adds:

This afternoon, amid the excitement of the opening day at Wimbledon, I painted the leaf of the White Potentilla before it fades, this being all I could have of this rarity, and I can now paint the rest of the plant from the sketch I made when we saw it.

Two days later Gran tries to pass on some of her painting skills:

Early this afternoon Kathleen Scallon (née McKeith) came, as previously arranged, for a helping hand towards doing some painting, and though I have never tried teaching it before and expected to make a poor show at it, Kathleen was delighted with her efforts and much encouraged. I have promised another session.

“A nice piece about Julian in today’s Telegraph”, she writes on July 1st:

…speaking of him as “one of Britain’s outstanding track men, that fine prospect Julian Goater who, shortly to go to Oxford University on an RAF Scholarship, last week ran 5000 metres in a personal best 13 min 49.8 sec – almost an Olympic qualifying standard – while chipping nearly 20 seconds off his own record”.

The 7th is Ladies Singles Final day at Wimbledon. Gran watches it with great enthusiasm but says:

…I was sorry to see on Television, the very attractive defender of the title, Evonne Goolagong lose 3-6 3-6 to the much less attractive Billie-Jean King though one has to admit that the latter is a superlative player. The result was not popular with the crowd either.

And two days later, it is the turn of the men:

We were treated to the best Men’s Singles Final ever seen. After five hard and fluctuating sets… Stan Smith of America won against Nastase of Romania 4-6 6-3 6-3 4-6 7-5 and one wished that both could have won. The loser was also given a tremendous ovation from the crowd and Stan Smith did all he could afterwards to cheer Nastase. Within a very short time Nastase was on court again to finish the semi-final of the mixed doubles with Rosemary Casals, and took only two games to beat Groebner and Billie-Jean King and then went on to win the Final against Kim Warwick and Evonne Goolagong in straight sets. He had become the idol of the crowd and was besieged by autograph hunters as he left the court.

Ilie Nastase – the “idol of the crowd” in 1972. Image courtesy of smarch0987 via Flickr.

On July 11th one of Gilbert Whitley’s two sisters arrives, on a visit planned some time earlier, and Gran, who has spent some time on Gilbert’s behalf, searching for items relating to his family’s history, delights her by showing her the farmhouse where her recent ancestors lived and worked:

Gilbert’s sister Vera, whom I had not seen for fifty-one years, and her husband, Arthur, came to lunch today and spent the rest of the day with me. They have been in Europe for two months or so and return to Australia at the end of the month. This afternoon I took them to see New Barn Farm at Compton, where the Whitley Grandparents lived… Afterwards we went to Compton Church where the Grandparents were married, and again, Vera was delighted.

A page from “Nathan Whitley’s Journal”, a family history compiled by Gilbert Whitley, with help from Gran, and showing New Barn Farm, Compton, photographed by her.

July 14th marks the end of an era during which Gran had experienced and developed a love for, many of the great ocean liners of the first half of the century, delivering flowers on board for the Fowler’s Southampton florists. Tommy (née Joan Tomlinson) and Gran had been at school together. She married Bob, and had three children – John and Jill, and Diana to whom Gran was Godmother. Gran writes:

This evening I attended the Staff Party, given by Tommy and Bob Fowler to mark their retirement, at the Botley Grange Hotel and thoroughly enjoyed it. Diana picked me up on her way home from Slimbridge, Bob took me on to the Party and John brought me home, very late!

Her entry on the 22nd begins: “I am sixty-eight!” Cards and flowers arrive, and phone-calls are received. “Diana’s gift”, she says, “was a first day cover of the Scott Explorer stamp, the envelope signed by Peter Scott”. And, “This afternoon I took advantage of the warm sunshine and washed my hair, drying it in the sun – in the garden”.

“… the envelope signed by Peter Scott”. Image courtesy of Andy Brenan.

Three days later, she phones the Brenans to wish grandson Andrew a happy birthday, and relieved, she records that she “…was delighted to hear that the house difficulties have been sorted out and Jane and Stuart hope to move next week”, adding, “the house is a converted cottage which used to be the village shop and Jane said it is delightful…”

On the 26th:

Excitement by second post! Ricky, bless him, has sent me a specimen of Oyster-plant Mertensia maritima from Shetland. It arrived in good condition and I hope to paint it tomorrow.

She paints the plant next day, “…and thoroughly enjoyed myself”, she writes:

…but it was a difficult subject and took close on three hours to complete. It is very beautiful and I am glad to have seen and painted it thus, for I shall never see it growing myself”.

The Oyster-plant, a species of boulder-strewn northen sea-shores – Gran was correct, she never managed to see it growing in the wild. Image by nz_willowherb via Flickr.

I cannot find her painting, unfortunately. It is in her penultimate album; one of the few that appears to be lost.

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There are two more new flowers to paint a few days later, following what Gran records as “a soul-satisfying day” with Brother. They drive to several sites in Wiltshire, finding amongst many other chalkland flowers, Wild Liquorice at Ladydown on the army ranges there, and Tuberous Thistle at Stockton. The latter she paints on August 3rd, “Adrian’s Day”, as she calls his birthday, saying, “I found comfort and serenity… a most intricate and challenging subject it was, but I was pleased with the result of nearly four hours work”.

Details of the Brenan family’s move from Pattingham, near Wolverhampton, to Longton, near Preston, are given by daughter Jane during a phone call on the 4th. Gran is much cheered, noting in her journal that the family “camped” in the new house on the first night and their furniture arrived on the following day. Their various new neighbours appear to be wonderful, supplying them with home-baking, home-produced eggs, newspapers, and also playmates of similar ages for Katherine and Andrew.

The family “camped” in the new house on the first night – the Brenan’s new home at Longton, Lancs. Image courtesy of Andy Brenan.

“A beautiful and interesting programme on Television this evening”, she writes on August 20th.

…entitled “The Disappearing Hedgerows” in which Henry Williamson, author of “Tarka the Otter” and other such classics, revisited his old farm in Norfolk and deplored the loss of so much that is the essence of the countryside…

A meeting on September 18th strengthens her feeling that her long-departed Adrian is somehow a help to her while she paints. She writes to him:

I took some of my wild flower paintings to show to a very old acquaintance who had expressed a wish to see some of them. I found we had a great deal more in common than I ever suspected, though I have known her for over forty years and our daughters went to school together… Strangely, when I told Mrs Edwards about my sudden and inexplicable ability to paint wild flowers, she said that there is much that we are unable to explain and perhaps a ghost of a frustrated artist was now guiding my hand. She knows nothing of the affinity which existed between you and me dear, but I have always felt that in some way my flower-painting stemmed from you, and what she had to say has strengthened that feeling and deepened my hope that this is so.

On September 28th we learn that the recent retiral of the Minister on Tristan da Cunha, with whom Gran corresponded, will not mean an end to her supply of stamps and first day covers from that island group:

A letter from the Postmaster at Tristan da Cunha brought me a schedule of available stamps and told me how I could obtain current and new issues direct so this pleased me greatly, though I was annoyed that someone had tried to remove the stamps from the envelope and so spoilt it altogether.

September 29th:

Sunset was obscured. Today’s excitement came just as I had retired to bed! A voice said, “Can you let me in Mother?”. Yes, it was dear old Barry, whose car had broken down outside Dorchester when he was on his way to Portland, and he had to leave it in a village garage. How glad I am that my children and grandchildren know that they can come here at any time and be sure of a welcome. After we had a bite to eat we both retired.

Next day:

Barry went to Farley Mount this morning – he borrowed my bicycle! – to look for a species of Pug caterpillar on Goldenrod. He found a number, which he brought home, having borrowed my plastic container which I use for teabags and which he says he will return when he comes next weekend. I wonder if he will remember – he has already “collected” a sandwich box, drinking cup, and Thermos flask and his head is usually in the clouds among bugs of one sort or another!

August and September 1972 have passed for Gran with some loneliness and relatively little excitement and she writes that after Barry’s early departure “the afternoon settled to its customary monotony”. She enjoys ballet on the television that evening, however, going to bed too late to write. The television, so long in arriving at The Ridge, has become an important companion to her.

Next day, October 1st, the weather is beautiful but Gran records that she feels “restless and depressed, and ashamed of it on such a lovely day”. She phones Jane that evening, just needing to talk, and feels better for it, “But”, she ends her journal entry with: “…it is hard not to feel that my life is rushing away with so much that I still want to do, see and hear, if only I could get away to do so”.

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Tags: Chandler's Ford, Chandler's Ford Today, family, Hiltingbury, Hiltingbury Road, history, Joan Adamson, Joan Adelaide Goater, local interest, memory, nature, writing

Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 137)

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