Genesis....The Beginning

My very first on-line diary...and it suddenly disappeared into the depths of the ethernet....all because Roy pushed a wrong key

Well, at least it gives me the opportunity to start afresh and I will start my new diary with some background on who I am and where I came from

Born in Totternhoe, a village just outside Dunstable, Bedfordshire on the 10th April 1952 (Yippee, its my birthday soon.) I am the eldest of three, my sister is 5 years younger than me and my "little" brother (who weighs around 18 stone) is 10 years younger.

I lived a very protected life as a child as I was isolated from the townies until I was eleven and had to leave the village school to go to "Britain Street" school. Its actual name was Priory Secondary Modern but the former sounds 'arder like

I can't say to much about my early years, nowt much happened, I was studious, didn't get in trouble (except when I got arrested for trying to nick a ducks egg from the nest of a very angry mother duck).......This is now totally non acceptable behavour but how many other old 'uns used to collect eggs? I was dead proud of my collection, I must have had over 100 different types including a tortoise egg

I loved the countryside (and still do) I taught my daughters many of the wild berries and leaves that were edible and still chuckle at my daughter Lauras story of when she was dating a young man (shortly to be married to him) and invited him to partake of the inside flesh of a rose hip....he couldn't believe that she could ACTUALLY eat the stuff! His face was a picture when he returned from a country walk with her back to the house

Anyway, get back to when I was elevenish, the biggest crimes in the village was riding 2 to a bike (P.C. Reglar was a tyrant..but meeting him later in life, I changed my opinion) and scrumping!! There were several orchards in the village mostly Damson plums which were quite sour and Victoria plums that were fair game to us as long as the farmer wasn't looking! The other variety was greengages but I had nightmares for years about those! My mother used to go "greengage picking" for the local farmer and I used to tag along (not out of choice.) I remember that the workers got paid for the amount of wooden trays they picked and huge wooden ladders that were very wide at the base but tapered into nothing at the top were used. By the time the fruit was ripe, the tree had begun to rot and on each tree there were always a few fruit that were unreachable...sort of! The farmer would position the ladder against the uppermost branches and while taking most of the weight of the ladder himself, would sent little old me up to the top to collect the 3 or 4 fruit.........30 ft up and hearing the breaking of twigs as the ladder tried its best to conform with the laws of gravity, just for a couple of greengages, and the chances were that they were full of wasps anyway...

The other seasonal job my mother had was on a farm about 4 miles away from home...but that was via a cart track. When I was VERY young, she used to cycle with me sitting on a silly seat attached to the frame in front of her but when my sister arrived, we walked as the pram had to go with us. We (ok, she) harvested veg like spinach and cabbage but it was mostly potatoes. It must have been back-breaking work but in those days, manual labour was the only way to get the product from ground to shop! My sisters pram came in use as the mattress was ideal to hide "Bakers"...huge spuds that were ideal to bake in the oven, it was one of the workers perks I suppose, my parents were absolutely honest but temptation...... I often chuckle now to see spuds in the supermarkets that are packed as "Bakers" and they are so tiny, and if you do find a large 'un in a bag, it is likely to be rotten inside, where have all the large spuds gone?

It was on this farm that I first experienced electric fences! The current pulsates so that it is only live between breaks of 1 to 2 seconds. I touched the wire,...no shock, I touched it again,...no shock. Confidently, I grasped to top wire and started to clinb..........NEVER AGAIN!!!!

I hope my diary is readable, I feel that more confident now about putting down in print my life and will come back soon and tell all about my teenage years, I am sorry if you find it boring, but I find it a great stress relief and I am putting all this down for myself first and if others find it interesting, Great..........So this eleven year old is signing off for a while...