It is seventy-seven years today since the outbreak of the Second World War. I remember the day vividly - after the eleven o'clock announcement by Neville Chamberlain on what was then called the 'Home Service' on the radio, almost everyone is our village went out and stood at their gate. I just remember this silence, and all the villagers, and this feeling (I was six) that something momentous had just happened. Now of course less and less people remember it.
Here in our village today it was the first Coffee morning of the Autumn, after the summer break. Unfortunately this coincided with an absolute downpour so that turnout was lower than usual. But it was still a lovely occasion - the one time in the month when I see many of the villagers and enjoy a chat. Now, at three o'clock in the afternoon, it is still pouring with rain. It will make the grass grow and as the farmer is just about to begin second cut silaging and hot weather is forecast for the forthcoming week, the rain has just come at the right time.
When I got home from the Coffee Morning this lunch time I could not find my handbag so had to turn the car around and go back and there it was, exactly where I had left it, on the table where I had been sitting with a group of friends. But I needn't have been worried - as I joked with one of the organisers - nobody would steal a handbag at a Coffee Morning organised by the Church would they?
Saturday, 3 September 2016
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More heavy rain, Pat you're teasing me.
In answer to your last question - only the vicar. Tricky devils they are.
Pat, I urge you to look at this lady's blog, I feel that you will have a lot in common, especially her current one about Yorkshire.
What a terrible time it was too. Seems I've been reading a lot of fiction about the war; hot topic I guess as are dystopian novels, of which I've read two and no more.
I once left my purse at a restaurant in a tiny town in Wisconsin. As we sped back for it my friends said 'No one in rural Wisconsin would steal a purse". But, someone would--it was gone. Quite a time straightening it all out.
"The day war broke out" was also my mother's first comment this morning when she realised what the date was. She was a "big girl" at the time being 9 years old and the war had an immediate profound effect on her life as she was evacuated from London to the Cambridgeshire countryside.
We seem to be having your "absolute downpour" down here right now.
Still no rain here, so I've put the sprinkler on my vegetable garden for a while. I can't imagine how you would feel hearing a declaration of war. -Jenn
3rd of September is the anniversary of my father's birth he was born in 1903 and my mothers was November 11th Armistice Day WW1.
They would laugh about who was the peacemaker and the war monger.
You are precious and rare, W eave. I was born in '51, so only had the legacy.
You are absolutely right, no worries about leaving a purse at a church sponsored event. At least this time LOL. How nice to meet fellow villagers for tea and coffee once a month. That would have been a sight to see, all the villagers standing at their gates absorbing the news.
Quite often the weather each of us experiences is very similar even though we live so far apart. It has rained almost continuously today and I hope it will not warm up too much as I must cut both lawns before I go away next weekend.
Glad you found your handbag waiting for you, but it was in a pretty safe place. Many years ago I left mine on a bench at our local railway station and was also fortunate to find it still there when I remembered where I had last had it.
I was 3 when the war started so don't remember the outbreak itself, though I do have many later wartime memories.
Where I live your purse would be gone and your credit card would have several charges on it before you could cancel it.
They will have found your Social Security number and by the evening sold it.
cheers, parsnip and thehamish
I'm very very thankful to have missed it
For someone as young as me (53) the second world war is distant as far as experience goes. I remember an old lady in my neighbourhood who did'nt talk much and when she did it was mostly jibberisch. We children giggled somewhat because she also had a strange colour to her skin. Later on, as grew up, I was told that she barely escaped a painful death, being held prisoner and guineapig for dr Mengele. They conducted several strange and painful experiments on people who they thought of as less valuable as far as human kind goes. Her origin was obviously not good enough and so it was nothing further to discuss.
We had many released prisoners coming to Sweden with the white busses, with the help of Raol Wallenberg f.i.
My mother was born 1938 so she mostly remembers the peacetime but also that they could see the airraids over Copenhagen from the coastline where she lived. I hope you tell your grandchildren and greatgrandchildren so they wont forget. As you say, soon there will be no one left to make history alive.
I was born just after the war. My sister was named after a young teacher who was killed by a bomb just opposite my parents house (in leafy Surrey). Any unused bombs, after bombing London, were dropped off on their way home.
I went to the pictures in bright sunshine and came home two hours later in rain. I had nothing with me except my key and my rail ticket, no coat, but I was wearing a summer hat of course. It never stopped raining from then until the early hours of the morning. Now everything will be green again. The war, nobody ever talked about it much about it except my mother telling us about getting nylons from the Americans as they passed by the house.
I'm hopeless with bags of any description - I'm more of a large pocket type of gal!
My Dad got leave to come home to marry my Mum on the 9th September 1939, they always said it was the first 'leave' of the War.
We always lock the house & car when left alone here in rural France. We were not amused when our RNLI aerial topper was taken and replaced by a pink smiley face one.
Bring on the rain here please.
I was a bit young to get nylons from American soldiers Rachel - although I do remember my first pair of nylons. Also remember that they were very ladderable!
I was born in '51 but I grew up with a mom who had lost her dad in the war. So I knew all about it. Newfoundland was owned by Britain then and my grandfather joined the British Navy. the ship he was on got torpedoed. He is buried in a place called Gillingham in England and my grandmother and mother got to visit his grave three times which was always very emotional for them.
I always wear a shoulder bag long enough to loop round my head; if not I would never hang on to it!
Love reading all the comments on this topic.
Both my parents were born during WWII; my Dad in 1942 and my Mum in 1944. They were too little to remember the war itself, but they can say a lot about the postwar years.
We've had some badly needed rain yesterday afternoon, and it now looks as it could be raining some more today. From tomorrow onwards, there is more wonderful late summer weather forecast for my area.
What a relief to have your handbag back! My sister's got stolen once, and it was such a hassle to sort everything out.
I think the social life of your village has much to recommend it.
As to your bag being safe - on the whole I think people are more likely honest than not.
The storm here has really not turned into anything....
I fear it is headed out into the Atlantic and is heading your way!
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