Well, dear readers, how fascinating my one-year diary turned out to be. I kept it in four spiral notebooks, one for each season, from Autumn 2010 to Autumn 2011 and reading through it reminded me of so many things I had completely forgotten. There were records of people who had called to see us and what I had given them to eat, records of places the farmer and I had visited (it was the year we went to The Netherlands, so there was quite a lot about the various art work there), it happened to be the year when I had been airlifted to hospital (only a couple of weeks ago the farmer and I were trying to decide how long ago it was) - and there were so many incidents in it about which I had completely forgotten.
I shall certainly pass it on one day to my son, although whether he will want to be bothered with it is up to him. At present he seems to have little interest in Family History. And on the subject - it was always spoken in our family about my mother's brother, Uncle Abe, who farmed in the Lincolnshire Wolds where I spent many happy holidays in my childhood, how he had won the Military Medal in the First World War. A friend has recently researched it for me and there is no record of this at all. It seems it was a Family Myth - and I would guess that there are plenty of those around.
This morning, now that the early mist has cleared, there is a pale sun shining and it is still - in other words a lovely Autumn morning. I am enjoying a relaxing morning as, along with friend W and the farmer, we are going out for Sunday lunch. Lovely not to think about what to cook.