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.
Another lovely warm day. Frost first thing. Cleaned both jets. No.1 on red first thing. Did some hoeing by the rhodies. Budget day today*. Hope it’s a good one.
*(Delivered by Chancellor, James Challaghan. “Nineteen sixty-four was a year of reckoning for a decade of mistaken policies and false pride. The deficit amounted to £745 million, and would have been over £800 million if we had not been relieved from payment of interest and capital on our North American loan.” Very much, another time.)
My Granddad is Keeping Busy 