My Dear Joy,
Here we sit around the fire. It’s a bitterly cold day though quite sunny. We’ve just seen the chimney sweep off and the newly made fire is exploding away sending pieces of coal all over the room and mam’s in quite a tizzy. As well she might be with hot lumps of coal the size of a 10 pence piece landing on the carpet. Its not a pleasant feeling –we know the house is insured but we don’t want to get involved in the coal stroke-sad unnecessary business it is, we much prefer to keep the home fires burning with a roof over our heads. Here’s Chris just home from work trying to relax on the settee but jumping every few minutes with each load explosion. Never known anything like it and its no joke either.
Anyway, things are back to normal and mam is her old self again. She’s had a really nasty time with racking coughing bouts and an almost non –existent voice. It made her look really poorly . But she’s a good trooper and comes bouncing back though oftimes it worries me that she goes to the limits.
Perhaps I oughtn’t to say it but Auntie Sylvia seems reluctantly better. Like a horse with blinkers she can see quite clearly what she wants to see but broadly speaking, to either side her vision is narrowly confined.
Took Gran Cis another barrow load of wood from the factory yesterday. She seems well stacked now I noticed and there was a huge pile that Chris sawed up for her in one corner. What with wood and cardboard which I collect each week for Elmsthorpe church I do very well from my firm. Of course it means a bit of hard work lugging and hauling but I don’t mind that while I’ve got the strength. But the constant gale force winds here really tried me. I fetched three barrow loads this morning filling up the entry and mam has just called me to gather up the pieces lifted and blown away down Auntie Win’s garden. There’s a world shortage of pulp and I believe the people I save it for get between £4-to £5 a ton.
Enjoyed entertaining the old folks at Barwell Harvey House on Tuesday. There was only ourselves and it kept us busy. We gave them a real good show and they loved it. One old lady –she was almost stone deaf,- came up to us –she did so want to hear us so I said ,’You just come and stand at the back of us while we ring.’ We felt more than repaid by her thanks afterwards. There was another old soul of 96 who beamed her thanks. Altogether it was a very happy evening-something worth doing for the pleasure that we gave. There’s still three more engagements lined up in the near future and I suppose we’ll just keep on until the end of the road. Well love, about yourselves. We hope that the nasty cold has finally disappeared and things ticking back to normal. Everything sailing well with your work –Mike still progressing with his school. He certainly got off to a good start didn’t he-that’s a whole lot if you ask me.
With all this wet weather about there’s little we can do with the ground. But there’s still plenty of time. And the better days are not far away now. Meanwhile there’s lots of little ideas to fill the time. If you’re fond of lettuce why not put in a few singly planted fertilized seed in special little pots you can get from any garden shop. And put them in your greenhouse. And have you put in a couple of rows of broad beans –now’s the time –would have in fact been much better earlier.
By the way, was the Rosemary OK ? You know, as I posted the somewhat bulky letter I wondered whether the postman would think it is another letter bomb.
And now to get ready and try and win another prize at the whist drive. Meanwhile all our love and safe keeping as always and best regards to Mike. Dad q
When my mother died Chris and I were discussing what should be said at her funeral and we realized that though she spent her life attending church and working for it we had never heard her mention religion. Dad on the other hand had faith and every evening he knelt down on the carpet , elbows on the chair, head bowed , hands together and said his prayers. When I was small I sometimes climbed onto his back but he carried on praying. Usually he prayed for other people. Sometimes when dad warmed to his theme his language became Biblical.