DESPATCHES From the Home Front: The War Diaries of JOAN STRANGE 1939-1945
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She will have a soft voice and a bit of a Yorkshire accent. He will be tall, with a long face and big feet and look as if he had no insides. Very soon they will have a baby and I shall have to be very enthusiastic and produce baby clothes. January 6, The children and I attacked the garden yesterday.
We were weeding and discussing the afterlife. I wonder why it is that when two or three people garden together this subject always comes up. We all rather like talking about it, because we know nothing about it and we can let our imaginations run riot. In the end I made a hole in my hand and have blisters all over the palm and the garden looks much the same as it did before.
I want to get the ground clear so as to be able to plant fruit bushes as soon as possible in the spring. December 25, I was amazed at all that Molly managed to achieve in her busy life. Like Like. This sounds wonderful — she sounds like such a caring person. I definitely want to read her letters.
Despatches from the Home Front War Diaries of Joan Strange 1939 1945 by Joan Strange Chris Mccooey
I hadn't even heard of this book, it sounds right up my street and reminds me of my granny-in-law's life as a minister's wife, but sadly she didn't write her experiences down. Her huge house was bombed and she had refugees and her house didn't even have electricity. I don't know how she managed it all. I'll definitely look out for the book. Shipping costs are based on books weighing 2. If your book order is heavy or oversized, we may contact you to let you know extra shipping is required.
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The Home Front in Britain | SpringerLink
See also The Diary Junction. But when we got out there was quite a crowd. The children had wanted to go to the Zoo but Pic Circ seemed better, so we wandered along slowly, looking on. A number of other people were doing the same thing, in fact almost everyone was tired and wanting to look rather than do. Most people were wearing bright coloured clothes, lots of them red white and blue in some form I was wearing my kilt and blouse, much too hot, as I found. Most women had lipstick and a kind of put on smile but all but the very young looked very tired when they stopped actually smiling.
We walked down to the Temple where a few people were happily resting on the benches in the gardens. It was amazing how the half blitzed trees had sprouted again. There were a lot more drunks and broken bottles than earlier, and a few people crying or having hysterics or collapsing, and a lot of ambulances.
People were sitting all along the pavements, no general dancing. We wandered round, looking for a pub, as Jack was longing for a beer. My feet were getting very sore indeed so that I could hardly think of anything else. I was also very tired after my journey. Americans and perhaps others but one always blames the poor Yanks! Jack and I always jumped. People were singing but just like everywhere else with the minimum of tune. Val came in just before midnight and we went on the roof and looked at the searchlights whirling round and reflected beautifully in the river.
Then we listened to the midnight news and went to bed. Afterwards we drove to Newbury to get the other Inkpen [village west of Newbury] children from school.
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Every cottage had a few flags hung out, and in most of them a dummy-like figure of an old person could be seen at an upper window. Near Newbury we had a narrow escape from a drunken lorry-driver veering from side to side of the road - he made the V-sign as we passed.
Bicyclists were hurrying in to Newbury dressed in their best; little girls wore satin blouses and red, white and blue bows in their hair.