Stamps from New Zealand; good birds in Suffolk; Ruddigore at Sadlers’ Wells; excitement on The Ribble Marshes; childish stamps from Australia; “a perfect specimen of human babyhood”, and a Camellia causes some anxiety.
On February 19th 1973, Gran receives some mail:
Second post brought me New Zealand stamps from Brother-in-law Norman – two strips of the newest issue with the margin numbers and printers’ name, with the names of the artists which, according to a newspaper cutting sent with them, had been attributed to the wrong artist in these particular values. Norman thought they would be interesting and, perhaps, valuable.
Norris arrives at The Ridge on the morning of the 21st:
… to take charge whilst I am away, from tomorrow. This afternoon we went out for a while, leaving the convector heater for Mother instead of the open fire. We went first to the lake at Kimbridge which we were pleased to see had been made a Wildfowl Reserve. We met two keen youngsters, boys, who asked if they could walk round with us and very nice lads they were.
And Norris takes her to Winchester on the following afternoon for the Waterloo train. She is met at Stanmore by Barry, having taken the Bakerloo Line from Waterloo. He, she says:
…took me in his car to Reddings Avenue, where I received my usual warm welcome. Beverly joined us for supper. We played some whist with Geoffrey and Robin, and Barry showed me some of his latest catch of most beautiful moths. It was a very enjoyable evening.
This evening David and Fiona Agassiz came in and had a meal with us. David and Barry were, of course, immersed in Entomology but after the children were in bed, Fiona, Jane Elizabeth and I played Scrabble, with Julian”
What a family it is for games! There is no television at Reddings Avenue.
Early on the 25th they make for Walberswick on the Suffolk coast, and Gran has a wonderful day, seeing Bearded Tits in the reedbed there, hearing her first Bittern booming, and enjoying her first Red Squirrel for many years. They move on to Covehithe, a short way along the coast to the north, “where”, she writes:
…we saw the ruined church and the churchyard on whose tombstones Barry and family had seen the Nutcracker. We walked along the cliff top overlooking the sea, hoping to see the Mediterranean Gull which was reported to be there.


After some searching, and poor, distant sightings of this bird, they have wonderful, close views, Gran writing: “…a beautiful bird, jet black head, not yet completely in summer plumage, and very white, shining plumage on wings and body”. Mediterranean Gull was relatively rare in Britain in those days but is now commonly seen, especially along the South Coast, in places that Gran knew well.

They see Barn Owls in some numbers, on the journey and at their destinations. “I have seen more today than over the past many years”, she writes.
While staying with the family at Bushey, she is taken to Ivinghoe Beacon, Tring Reservoirs and Cassiobury Park in Watford, for natural history purposes, but they find time for some culture as well. On the 28th, she says:
We took the afternoon easily because we were going to Sadlers’ Wells this evening to see “Ruddigore”. Beverly came to an early meal and she and Ricky came with us. Owing to the strike of train drivers and the consequent uncertainty of the Underground running conveniently, Barry took us in by car.
“Ruddigore” was most enjoyable… Barry and I had seen it in Bournemouth many years ago, but it was a new experience for Jane, Ricky and Beverly. The journey home was easy and we dropped Beverly at the hospital where she is a student nurse.
Gran takes the train to Preston, to visit her “other family” on March 1st, where she is met by Jane and driven to their new home in Longton. Gran likes it:
The house… is beautiful, once the village shop, with very large rooms and a unique set out, all the doors of natural varnished wood, each with a different grain, and very simply yet tastefully furnished.
Next day, she and Jane go shopping on the outskirts of Stockport, and she says, “… it was strange to see signposts pointing towards Liverpool, near where I was born nearly sixty-nine years ago and had not seen again for about fifty-four years”.
And that afternoon, Jane introduces her to the Ribble Marshes, located at the end of their road, Marsh Lane. Of the marshes, Gran writes that they were:
…too extensive to allow us to approach the estuary itself, but very interesting indeed… The tide at times does rush up the many runnels criss-crossing the marsh, and much debris denotes the tideline at these times.
In a few day’s time she will become very closely acquainted with the rushing tide, but for now she enjoys the large numbers of marshland birds and their cries – Redshank, Oystercatcher, Lapwing and Golden Plover.
She also revels in the company of her grandchildren. Andrew is busy with his Dad constructing and painting a totem pole for a school assembly, and she attends one of Katherine’s dancing lessons, in Preston, saying:
It was very interesting to see all the exercises again, (believe it or not, I once did all these!) and then the Hornpipe in which Katherine took part, and the Irish jig with the other half of the class. They all took part in a dance called “The Fair”, in which mime played a big part and was extremely well done by the youngsters.
As at Reddings Avenue, family games take precedence over television in the evenings: Draughts, Chinese Chequers and Scrabble.
Gran is introduced to the Brenan family’s favourite English destination on March 5th: the Lake District, where they spend “a most beautiful and satisfying day”. She notes its characteristic walls and buildings, and learns of Coniston Old Man, Weatherlam, Crinkle Crags, Tom Gill and Tilberthwaite Gill, all familiar locations for Jane, Stuart, Katherine and Andrew.

The next day she phones Norris at The Ridge to say she intends to travel home a day earlier than originally planned, because another rail strike is likely to disrupt her journey. So she prepares to take an afternoon train on the 7th. “This morning”, she tells us that day, “Stuart decided to take me for a last look at the marshes”, and she continues with a story that has become known in the family as “the day Stuart tried to drown his Mother-in-law”:
Stuart suggested that we should walk as far as the bank of the Ribble to see what was about on the river, but fishermen were present and we only saw Oystercatchers in flight. Walking back over the marshes we were somewhat disquieted to find the tide was rapidly flowing in, though we had only been about ten minutes reaching the river and back to where the runnels criss-crossed the marsh, and these, over which we had easily stepped, now needed to be jumped. I jumped short at one and filled Jane’s Wellington boots with water but worse was to come.
Confronted by an impossible runnel, which Stuart had managed to cross, I climbed a fence to find an easier crossing and then tripped and fell into another! Back at the stream we found that the bridge had disappeared and, after walking to and fro for some time, found it submerged by about three feet of water, and the stream getting deeper every moment. There was nothing for it – we must try the bridge, and Stuart, armed with a stout stick, went first, leading me by the hand. But I missed my footing and went into icy water up to my waist, but managed, with Stuart’s help, to scramble out. Safe now, we were convulsed with mirth and hurried to the car, soaked to the skin.

A hot bath and clean clothes soon restored us but my binoculars had been submerged and this worried me, though Stuart did his best to dry them. During lunch Mr Tinsley [their neighbour] came in… Great hilarity ensued when Stuart told him how he had ducked his Mother-in-law, and the idea of a woman going on for seventy floundering about in the runnels was altogether too much for his equilibrium!
Though Jane had done her best to dry my coat, it was impossible and I had to travel home in a cardigan only… I reached Winchester only seven minutes late soon after twenty-past eight and Brother met me. All was well at home.
Next day:
I played badminton this afternoon to ease the stiffness in tummy muscles and soreness of arms after my efforts at getting out of the runnels yesterday. I enjoyed it.
Gran really has an amazing range of overseas contacts. March 10th brings an exciting post-bag of stamps:
…from Tristan da Cunha, Australia and Greece, the Tristan from the Postmaster with three sets, mint and franked, the definitive Flower issue, exquisite in colour and design, the Long-boat set of four, also beautiful, and the Silver Wedding commemorative issue. From Australia (Gilbert of course) a first day cover and mint stamps of the new Decimal Conversion issue, which Gilbert is not sure are comic or childish but he is sure Queen Victoria would not have approved, and a letter from Greece from Pam and Lazeros [Gilbert’s niece and her husband]. There also came the British Tree stamp which I had posted to myself in order to obtain a “used” copy.

It appears that her recently submerged binoculars have been sent away for cleaning and de-misting, because on the 14th, at Keyhaven on her weekly Wednesday outing with Norris, watching the expected selection of estuary birds – Black-tailed Godwit, Curlew, Redshanks and others – she writes, “I missed my binoculars badly but Brother was generous in the loan of his”. They are very pleased on this trip to see a male Ruff, “…resplendent as he was donning his courtship plumage”.
Next door at the Kingston’s on the following day, Gran writes rather movingly of the new addition to that family:
Ruth came to the window with baby Jamie in her arms and called us in to see him. He is a tiny, perfect specimen of human babyhood, with a crop of dark hair and the loveliest of minute hands. No wonder Ruth is so proud of him.
And again, on the following day:
This afternoon Ruth brought wee Jamie in to see us and Mother was enchanted with him, never having seen quite such a tiny baby. We marvelled anew at the perfection of him and it was a treat to see a new baby so much loved and wanted, and his mother, though he is her third baby, so obviously filled with wonder at the sight of him.
Book 148
March 18th:
…I was expecting to take a Guide for her Observer’s Badge this afternoon… The Guide did not take her test after all this afternoon because she had failed that for camping this morning and without it she could not qualify for Queen’s Guide, of which she had hopes. As she will be sixteen on Tuesday there is now no time for her to pass the necessary tests.
Spring is coming, and Gran delights in her first butterflies, seeing Peacock, Small Tortoiseshell and Brimstone in Hiltingbury. A Hedgehog comes regularly for food put out for it in the garden, and every Wednesday, as usual, Gran and brother Norris are out somewhere, looking for deer, birds or plants. They find the regular Beaulieu Road-wintering Great Grey Shrike for themselves on March 27th and also a pair of Curlews on territory there.
“This evening”, she writes on March 31st:
Jackie Hillier brought me some sprays of a beautiful pink Camellia which has been named after her Mother-in-law Barbara Hillier (of the famous family of nurserymen) and which I had promised to paint for her as a birthday present for her Mother-in-law.
She does no weeding in the garden on the following day, she says, clearly feeling the weight of responsibility concerning this Camellia, “as it ruins my hands for painting”. She makes a start on the flower early on April 3rd, “… but was chagrined to find that the colour was most difficult to produce… so I dashed to the art shop in Winchester with a petal to which I hoped to match some paint”. She continues:
I obtained a paint which the assistant said would match my petal if mixed with white, and I was home again in just over the hour. Alas, on paper, it was nowhere near the colour and the sun lay across my table making painting impossible.
This afternoon I really got down to making a supreme effort and at last found a colour combination to suit. Result – I worked for four hours during which I forgot everything, the fire nearly went out and I “came to” long after teatime. Mother slept peacefully throughout so I had nothing to rouse me! I did not finish the Camellia today but it looked promising. I played badminton this evening… but returned home late and very tired.
She does not continue with the painting on the following day, it being a Wednesday and earmarked for an outing to local areas with Norris, and she receives a second post letter from the Brenan family that morning, “with the pleasing news”:
…that Katherine passed her music exam with merit and only two marks below distinction. A good result. Her allergy to horses persists and, after only just patting one recently for a second or two, her face was almost immediately swollen and covered with a rash. The Doctor said he had never seen anything like it! It lasted about five days.
The Camellia takes up another three hours of painting the next day, and the whole afternoon of the day after that, so it is then finished, apart from its naming, which, Gran says, needs to be confirmed by the Hillier family.
Harold Hillier confirms the name as “Camellia heterophylla. Barbara Hillier” and is extremely pleased with the painting, “A weight off my mind”, says Gran. Jackie Hillier collects the work of art and pays Gran £5.00 for it.
Article series
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 1)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 2)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 3)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 4)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 5)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 6)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 7)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 8)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 9)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 10)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 11)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 12)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 13)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 14)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 15)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 16)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 17)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 18)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 19)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 20)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 21)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 22)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 23)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 24)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 25)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 26)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 27)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 28)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 29)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 30)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 31)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 32)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 33)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 34)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 35)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 36)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 37)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 38)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 39)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 40)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 41)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 42)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 43)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 44)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 45)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 46)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 47)
- 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 50)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 51)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 52)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 53)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 54)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 55)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 56)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 57)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 58)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 59)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 60)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 61)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 62)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 63)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 64)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 65)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 66)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 67)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 68)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 69)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 70)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 71)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 72)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 73)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 74)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 75)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 76)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 77)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 78)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 79)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 80)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 81)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 82)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 83)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 84)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 85)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 86)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 87)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 88)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 89)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 90)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 91)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 92)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 93)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 94)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 95)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 96)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 97)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 98)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 99)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 100)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 101)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 102)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 103)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 104)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 105)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 106)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 107)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 108)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 109)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 110)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 111)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 112)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 113)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 113)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 114)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 115)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 116)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 117)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 118)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 119)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 120)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 121)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 122)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 123)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 124)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 125)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 126)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 127)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 128)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 129)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 130)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 131)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 132)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 133)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 134)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 135)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 136)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 137)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 138)
- Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 139)
Dear Sir.
Just wondering if your were related to Mr and Mrs Goater ? Back in the early 1960s they resided in a bungalow in” New Road Fairoak” nr Eastleigh. The question is out of interest, for my self.
Kind regards Edward Butt [stay safe and healthy]