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Forty Years in Chandler’s Ford – a Journal (Part 155)

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A win in Belgrade; “I cleaned my bedroom!”; Stuart – marooned; gales bring down trees; a Vulture in Wales; a preposterous suggestion; disappointment; “greedy strikers”; Jane gets whooping cough; Andy plays flute; Wallcreeper envy; a fabulous day, and “How lucky I am!”

Book 171

Entries in Gran’s 171st book cover many of Julian’s running exploits during the Autumn of 1977.  For example, he runs in Yugoslavia on October 19th and on the following day, Gran records that, “The Echo contained the news that Julian had won the road race in Belgrade, eight seconds ahead of his nearest rival”, and on the 22nd:  that “Julian rang this evening.  He won a gold medallion with a portrait of Marshal Tito on it and valued at £100!”

She continues to miss her brother Norris’s company, and outings with him profoundly, but friends and other members of the family take his place to some degree.  Lifelong friends Tommy and Bob Fowler drive her to the New Forest and Keyhaven, and to visit their daughter Jill’s family, the Brewsters, in Sussex; Sheila Moody, a more local acquaintance, takes her to Farley Mount; the Brenan family visits from Longton in Lancashire, and Julian and Sue, now ensconced at R.A.F. Odiham, entertain her there.

Whist drives seem to be almost thrice-weekly events and though Gran often complains that her cards are indifferent she frequently wins prizes for highest score; lowest score; most nines, or a booby prize of some sort – bath salts, grapefruits, half a dozen eggs, a sponge bag…  And she often provides prizes herself for the whist drives; usually something knitted or a small flower arrangement, and is delighted when someone appreciative of her efforts is the winner.  She always has knitting on the go.  Necessary household chores are less appreciated by her, but on October 30th, she writes:

Amid other chores this morning I cleaned my bedroom!  The picture rail and plate rail has worried me for a long time and I could not think of anyone to help me and I was rather afraid to tackle it myself.  Ruth would have helped me, I know, but she is too short to have easily reached it.  In the end I did attempt it myself, taking down all the plates, jugs and vases, with the help of a chair, successfully, and cleaned the rails with the Goblin and then, on the chair again, polished them.  Encouraged thus, I washed all the ornaments which were china, and polished the wooden ones which Daddy made whilst he was at sea.

Some of the jugs.

On November 13th: “Remembrance Sunday, always a moving and sad occasion mingled with pride and gratitude, and I remember also (as our family was lucky to lose no-one in war) those whom I have lost through other causes over the years.”

And at this time, with gales and floods reported from the north of the country, she phones daughter Jane to satisfy herself that all is well with the Brenans, and hears the following account of an event which has gone down in Brenan family history as “the time Stuart said he had a good excuse to stay in the pub”:

Some of the Longton villagers had their houses flooded near the marsh and two unfortunate families lost their bungalow homes and all their possessions, as well as livestock being drowned.  But, thank God, Jane and family only had a funny experience apart from two Cypress trees blowing down.  After a long session decorating, Stuart went down to the little Fish Inn [really called “The Dolphin Inn”] near the marsh for refreshment!  When the customers came to leave, they found the Inn completely surrounded by four feet of water and were unable to get away.  Stuart phoned Jane at midnight to explain the situation and all the men were brought home by tractor at eight o’clock the next morning!  Stuart could not move his car, but it was on the higher side of the road and he got it back this morning, in working order.  Fortunately the water had not reached the engine.  Andrew has had tonsillitis.

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

On December 2nd Gran is Christmas shopping, looking for a “throw-in” for Andrew:

I went down to the shopping precinct near the station… When I went into Ferrier’s sports shop for tennis socks for Andrew, Mrs Ferrier recognized me and remembered that her husband had re-strung my racquet four years ago and she wondered if I were still playing.  She was amazed when I told her about the hip operation last year and I told her that I had retired gracefully from tennis and badminton since I had a good innings until I was seventy, and did not want to play “gently”.

On most days she describes one or two television programmes she either approves of or dislikes.  On December 7th, she enjoys:

… “This is your Life”, which featured Virginia Wade and was most interesting and nice.  A clever girl as well as an excellent tennis player, a B.Sc. in Mathematics and Physics and Jubilee Wimbledon Champion.  She was so overcome that her tears fell most of the time and her lipstick ended upon her right cheek close to her ear!

And a few days later she is also delighted to watch Virginia Wade voted B.B.C. Sports Personality of the Year.

Barry and family are in Chandler’s Ford for Christmas.  There are outings to Ringwood and the New Forest, and, as usual, evening games of whist and Lexicon.  They all spend Boxing Day at Odiham, where Gran is introduced to other types of game, and she describes one, which sounds like a home-made forerunner of Pictionary, a board-game that was developed in 1981:

Our next game was new to me and very interesting.  We formed teams of two fours and a three, and Tim [Sue’s brother] told one member of each, in secret, the name of a play, film or book and the member had to return and draw an illustration with no spoken words for the other team members to guess the title.  The one who guessed correctly then went out to Tim and was given another title.  There were twelve in all and the prizes went to those who guessed them all in the fastest time… Some of the illustrations were extremely funny and some very clever.

We learn a little of the contents of the missing Book 169 in Gran’s traditional round-up of the past year’s events on December 31st.  She visited the Brenan’s in Longton during July, and was taken to nearby botanically-rich areas including Lytham St Annes, Gordale Scar and Malham.  After two years with little flower painting, she found several species new to her and painted them – Dune Cabbage, Seaside Centaury and Grass of Parnassus.

Gran visited Malham in 1976.  Image by Andy Rothwell via Flickr.

Time was spent with Rick and Beverly in their Exeter mobile home, from where she became better acquainted with Dartmoor, and visited Dartington Hall and Glastonbury Abbey.  She saw Jersey Tiger moths for the first time.  And from there she was taken to join the family holidaying at Coverack, near The Lizard, where more new plants awaited her and she saw her first Basking Shark.

… and Coverack, where  she saw her first Basking Shark – but Gran would not have been in the water!  Image by candiche via Flickr.

1978

Gran does appear to have a wonderfully positive attitude to life, in spite of her occasional tendency towards depression.  She is stoical and knows how to count her blessings.  So, on January 1st: she writes:  “My New Year Resolution is the same as last year, to make the most of every moment given to me and Live!”

Book 172

January 12th:

A terrible night of tremendous gale brought the dawning of this, my day of torn emotions, the thirty-first anniversary of your passing, and the twenty-fifth anniversary of Julian’s birth.  Great damage was done during the night though not so bad here, although a Pine Tree was blown down in the Kingston’s garden and a Macrocarpa from Griffin’s fell across the corner of my bottom border, but at present is lodged in the cherry tree in the garden beyond.  Our heavy stone birdbath was blown down and parts of the fences on both sides were also down.  Branches and twigs were scattered everywhere.

The heavy stone birdbath – still in the garden of The Ridge, and upright.

January 20th:

I walked down to the lower village to buy a pair of Wellington boots for the natural history outing tomorrow to Frensham Ponds and Haslemere Museum and I was lucky to obtain the last pair of size 6.  I have a hole in my old pair and there has been a rush on them since the snow came.

January 29th:

Feeling still rather depressed I longed for someone nice to come and see me or ring up, and a few minutes later this afternoon the phone rang and it was Barry… The exciting news… was that he and Phil Vines (and I expect, Geoff) went up to New Radnor on Friday night and camped, hoping to see a Black Vulture, which had been reported there.  Early yesterday morning a hoot outside their tent revealed Austin Richardson, Ricky and Beverly, bent on the same mission.  Later they all, lucky beggars, had excellent views of the vulture… it completely dwarfed Buzzards, and a Merlin, which stooped on it, looked minute.  Afterwards they all went to Devil’s Bridge, where a Kites’ roost was reported and here they saw five Kites.

It was the most amazing bird to see in the hills of Central Wales.  Now known as Cinereous Vulture, it has never been formally accepted as a fully wild addition to the British List but no evidence of its escape from captivity was found, and vultures can wander hundreds of miles from their usual haunts, with barely a flap of a wing.  Image by Koshy Koshy via Flickr.

On the following day, there is another phone call with Barry, and Gran was:

… amazed at his seemingly preposterous suggestion, which, being completely mad, of course I accepted!  He is coming here on Friday evening, we are getting up at four a.m. on Saturday and he is taking me to New Radnor to look for the Black Vulture, and to Devil’s Bridge to see the Kites.  We shall sleep in the car on Saturday night – and he is bringing a sleeping bag for me also, after a hot meal perhaps in Builth Wells, and will return on Sunday via the Chew Valley!  I am to provide food and Barry will bring a Primus stove for hot drinks and soup.  I can only pray that the weather will allow this wonderful experience to take place…

But on February 2nd:

A sadly disappointing day in spite the greatly improved weather forecast!  Barry rang up as I was rising, late, this morning, to say that our weekend in Wales is in jeopardy owing to a partial strike of tanker drivers, which may mean a shortage of petrol and, of course, we cannot risk being stuck in Wales.

“How sick one gets”, she says, “of these greedy strikers who have no idea, as we had to, of living within their means.  They expect to have everything they fancy now, whilst we had to do without so much until our children were grown up”.

And on the following day it is confirmed: the trip is off.  Gran is bitterly disappointed, but writes, “However, when I went to tell Ruth that I would not need her to have the Budgies, she was very sympathetic and insisted I should have a cup of coffee with her and I felt somewhat better”.

Phoning Jane on the 12th, to find out if all is well in Longton, in the snowy conditions she discovers that there has been very little snow but that Jane:

… poor dear, has whooping cough, but is over the worst as she started it three weeks ago.  She did not, of course, have it as a child and was not immunized.  Andrew went to a music afternoon which he greatly enjoyed and the Principal rang up a few days later to ask him to take part in a concert for “Blue Peter”.  It will be recorded next week but Jane does not know when it will be shown.

Gran writes at this time that she “has felt unaccountably unhappy… unless I am closely engaged in doing something definite”.  She is missing Norris terribly but adds, “I must not let this get me down!”  Her past journals prove important and somewhat healing for her too, as she says on the 17th, “This afternoon I re-read my accounts of my three Welsh holidays with Brother, living again our enjoyment and I hope to paint a picture of a Chough to illustrate our walk up the Cwm y Llan nature trail at Beddgelert.”

She spends the next afternoon, “fully occupied” and therefore “closely engaged”, for two and a half hours, painting the Chough and the day after that there is more Welsh nostalgia for her in a television programme:

It was “Man and Boy” in which Simon King and his friend went to look for Kites in Wales.  The location was not, of course, mentioned but it was Abergwysyn, and the little stream seen from the drovers’ mountain road was the exact spot opposite which Brother and I sat so many times and saw our Kites on two occasions… I was filled with a great longing to go again.

We must not forget that Red Kites were still incredibly rare in those pre-re-introduction days; just a few pairs to be found only in central Wales.

There are more details of Andy’s concert for Blue Peter on March 3rd.  Jane sends Gran a letter enclosing the syllabus for, she writes:

… the Bentovim Day Schools to which Andrew was invited to go with his flute.  It is supervised by Atarah Ben-Tovim, who is a teacher of twenty years’ experience and a regular broadcaster and writer in musical subjects. Twelve children have been invited to attend an advanced class for Grades 6 – 8 also, and Andrew is going for one day at least and I hope he will be able to go for others.  It was at this school that the “Blue Peter” film was made.

The syllabus that Jane sent to her mother – with a note about the impression she made on Andy.

 

and the reverse – with further details of his experience.

For several weeks at this time in 1978, a Wallcreeper, a vagrant bird of exceptional rarity in the UK, was seen frequenting a quarry in Cheddar Gorge.  Gran has noted with envy that Barry and Geoff, and now, on March 5th, that Ricky has seen it.  She adds with great hope and gratitude that, “Barry said he would come here next Saturday, after a cross country match, and take me to Cheddar early on Sunday morning”.  Something for her to look forward to after her recent disappointment over the Black Vulture.

Book 172 ends with: “Beverly has applied for a job in Arkansas, and, if she gets it, she will go next month and Ricky will follow her after Finals in June”.

Book 173

March 12th: “A Truly fabulous and exciting day which I shall remember to the end of my life! “, writes Gran.  Barry had arrived at one o’clock in the morning and mother and son rise at a quarter to three, make cups of tea, heat soup and flasks of coffee, and leave for Cheddar at 3.30.  They arrive at the “Wallcreeper Quarry”, in the dark at 5.30, sleep in the car until the dawn arrives and then make their way to a balcony-like structure in the quarry.  “So far”, Gran records:

… we were the only people about but soon more and more carloads of enthusiasts arrived to join us on the balcony upon which a notice had been placed restricting watchers to ten at a time.  Soon someone spotted the Wallcreeper emerging from its roost and starting to feed.  It was difficult to pick up at first owing to its colour against the limestone rock and its quick, flitting movements but soon the binoculars and Barry’s telescope were upon it.  The Wallcreeper is a beautiful bird, besides being a very rare vagrant in Britain, and excitement mounted as each watcher located it.

Gran writes a full description of the bird: grey upper parts, crimson wing-coverts, long, slender, curved black bill, rounded wings, white spots on black primaries.  She adds that it is a native of Europe and Asia, of mountains above 7000 feet to the snowline.

The day is still only just beginning and they leave the gorge at 7.30 and “my dear son”, she says, suggests that “they might as well go on to Wales”.  They tour places familiar to Gran – places she expected never to see again – and see Red Kites.  Gran writes in her journal at the end of the day, that she was “… overwhelmed with pleasure and excitement… We had been just over five hundred miles through glorious countryside and seen all and more for which we had hoped.  How lucky I am!”

Wasn’t she lucky!  Image by dfaulder via Flickr.

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  1. I remember Mr and Mrs Ferrier with some affection; they were a charming couple. I bought my Dunlop Maxply racquet and ex-Wimbledon Dunlop Fort tennis balls from Mr Ferrier – I often wondered who had used them. Perhaps Rod Laver, Lew Hoad or Neil Fraser – or Billie-Jean King; more likely, some unknown talent who was knocked out in the first round! My racquet was regularly restrung – with catgut – by Mr Ferrier. They had a son called Tim – I wonder what became of him?
    I love Mrs Goater’s diary – hints and shadows of my past …….

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