My Granddad is Keeping Busy

My granddad died in 1983. For the previous 20 years, he kept a diary, recording his day as a farm worker and then through his retirement. We are lucky enough to have his notebooks, all the entries in block capitals, often in pencil. He always tells us about the weather, sometimes about what is going well at the allotment. We get updates of how Liverpool are doing and the occasional political thought. He suffered from rheumatoid arthritis, was always in pain, but you would never know from these entries. My mum once described him as a contented man. Who knows, really, but certainly, there is something soothing about these entries. So I thought I would share them with you. We have a few years to cover so buckle up.

Saturday 17th November, 1962

Sat on today. Got done about ten. Very cold north wind. Went to P* in afternoon. Got rained off at 2pm. Very cold strong north wind with hail and snow. Never went to Wheat.

(After discussion with my mum, who says that Granddad never went to the pub in the afternoon, she concludes that he had an extra gardening job which he went to on some Saturday afternoons. She can’t remember if P is a person or a place, but it does seem to make sense with the entries. So apologies, Granddad, for sometimes suggesting you went to the pub twice in one day.)

anneiskeepingbusy

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