We hope that readers enjoy the second article of Club members\u2019 memories – thank you for your kind comments about the first one which appeared in the June issue of the Fowlmere & Thriplow News.<\/p>\n
\u00a0<\/p>\n
By now we are all good gardeners!\u00a0 We have had time during this enforced, ongoing stay-at-home period to concentrate on nurturing our plants!\u00a0 But cast your mind back to how different life must have been in the immediate post war years when soldiers returned home and land girls were no more: peace at last and time at last to enjoy a family life and cultivate your own piece of heaven!\u00a0 Club members have recorded their own memories of the 1950\u2019s or have remembered stories related to them by their parents or grandparents.<\/p>\n
\u00a0<\/p>\n
Margaret <\/strong>was introduced to gardening by her mother who was a keen gardener.\u00a0 However, Margaret was a lazy learner who thought that \u2018\u2019gardening was for the oldies\u201d – a view apparently held by younger people until the lockdown! – (witness the age profile of the Gardening Club!)\u00a0 Perhaps things will change now\u2026\u2026..\u00a0 Back to Margaret\u2019s memories!\u00a0 She did learn that picking raspberries and strawberries was very rewarding! So that was her early experience of gardening in the UK on Sussex clay!\u00a0 Jean<\/strong> had a school friend whose parents were quite keen gardeners.\u00a0 They lived on The Ridgeway and her mother introduced her to aubrietia.\u00a0 She also bought Jean her first book on gardening which is still on her bookshelf.\u00a0 It was written by Mr. Blossom who regularly wrote a short piece in the Daily Express.<\/p>\n In the 50\u2019s, Rosemary<\/strong>\u2019s Dad moved the family into a new detached house with land all round.\u00a0 Even at the age of 7, Rosemary understood that her father had achieved one of his lifetime goals.\u00a0 All his life, he worked long hours to provide for his family, and Rosemary came to learn that the garden offered him a place of respite and recuperation.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cThe woody area at the bottom of the plot, with its makeshift tree swing, belonged to us children, but the rest of the garden was his.\u00a0 We could roll on the square of lawn, but woe betide us if we crushed any of the borders!\u00a0\u00a0 Dad\u2019s floral taste was simple: roses in the front garden and dahlias at the back.\u00a0 I remember discovering his grisly brown dahlia tubers overwintering in the garage.\u00a0 They were lying on newspaper in wooden trays like gruesome body parts.\u00a0 It seemed impossible that these entrails would transform into the robust, vibrant blooms that crowded the summer flowerbeds!\u00a0 Their colourful display gave Dad enormous pleasure as he guided visitors round or picked bright bunches of pompoms for the house.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n As a child all Gwyneth<\/strong> remembers about gardening was picking apples by climbing the trees, – great fun – and planting bulbs which produced a wonderful show of daffodils. She tells us that her parents weren\u2019t gardeners but they had red currant and blackcurrant bushes, and rhubarb, probably an attempt at providing extra food during the war.\u00a0 However, her mother-in-law was a wonderful gardener and gradually Gwyneth learnt the joys of many different plants although she admits that she never mastered the Latin names!\u00a0 Here is Gwyneth\u2019s mother with their dog – a corgi called Sian, on the lawn showing a little of the wall around the garden, in autumn.\u00a0 Gwyneth says \u201cYou can see why my knowledge of plants is sparse.!\u201d<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n Let\u2019s give Rosemary the last words!\u00a0 \u201cDad\u2019s real joy was his veg patch, which may have been inspired by \u201cdigging for victory\u201d during the war.\u00a0 His efforts went largely unnoticed until harvest time, when we were enlisted to help. We delved into the freshly turned soil to uncover potatoes.\u00a0 We plucked the dangling runners and shelled peas on the patio.\u00a0 But the jewels were the raspberry canes; only Dad picked the fruit.\u00a0 Only he proudly transported the brimming Pyrex bowl into the kitchen, where, only he, boiled up a hot sugar syrup to pour over the top.\u00a0 Maybe Dad just had a sweet tooth or perhaps the process was to kill the little worms which he skimmed off the surface.\u00a0 Whatever the reason, we never ate raspberries any other way.\u00a0 They remained Dad\u2019s favourite fruit to the end; mine too.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n Mary Duff\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" We hope that readers enjoy the second article of Club members\u2019 memories – thank you for your kind comments about the first one which appeared in the June issue of the Fowlmere & Thriplow News. \u00a0 By now we are … Continue reading