On another blisteringly hot day, before the sun was fully up, I produced
a dozen current garden views from above.
Later, Jackie occupied herself planting and watering, while I carried out some dead heading. These activities were continued at intervals throughout the day.
Some years ago, now, encouraged by a number of my readers, I began work on an autobiography reflecting the era of my life so far. Eventually I came to a seemingly unsurpassable crossroads.
I have now decided to publish extracts from my draft, in occasional instalments, making use of some material previously posted and further thoughts and details, of which this is the first:
During the early 1940s members of my father, Douglas Michael Knight’s, generation were doing what those of his father had done before, namely fighting to save the life of our country, and, indeed, the whole world, from the might of Germany and its allies.
My maternal grandfather, an engineer in the prison service, was attached to Leicester Prison. As such he and his family including my mother, Jean, née Hunter, were allocated prison quarters.
Dad was billeted for a while next door. The teenaged neighbour must have aroused his interest, because, on 7th July, 1942, I was born in Leicester General Hospital. The above photographs were taken around this time.
Wherever he was stationed, Mum tells me, Dad took every opportunity when in England to get home to Mum and me and, later, Chris. If he had no official leave, this involved nipping off for what she calls “a sneaky weekend”. Apparently he found all kinds of means to do this, often involving the railway services. On one occasion when he couldn’t find any sort of train he walked all through the night from ‘somewhere in Yorkshire’ to Leicester for the pleasure. Dad himself has told me about marathon nocturnal walks to Leicester.
Mum’s part in the subterfuge was to keep a lookout for redcaps, as were termed the military police, one of whom was her elder brother Ben. I guess discovery could have been awkward.
__________
Later this afternoon, having read more of David Copperfield, I scanned the next four of Charles Keeping’s illustrations.
‘What was my amazement to find, of all people on earth, my aunt there, and Mr Dick!’
‘I observed Agnes turn pale, as she looked attentively at my aunt’
‘Mr Micawber had prepared, in a wash-hand-stand jug, a ‘Brew’ of the agreeable beverage for which he was famous’
‘I replied, ‘I, Miss Mills!’ I have done it!’ – and hid my face from the light, in the sofa cushion’
This evening we dined on Jackie’s luscious liver and bacon; boiled new potatoes; tender broccoli and cabbage, with which she drank more of the Sauvignon Blanc, and I drank Valle Central Syrah Reserva Privada 2019
Interesting story about your parents. I think I remember a BBC series about military redcaps in the 1990s or the early 2000s. Did you eat lives or liver for dinner? (I make a lot of typos as you may have noticed so I’m not picking nits–just curious if there is a British meal with which I am unfamiliar).
🙂 The truth will unfold when Derrick awakes.
I think you must have set the WP gremlins onto me, Yvonne 🙂
You may very well think that, but I can’t possibly comment. 🙂
🙂
Yesterday’s dinner was liver and bacon — I expect this was leftovers, thus liver and bacon.
Sorry — a dinner earlier this week ~ ~ ~
Yes 🙂
Quite right, Janet. Now corrected.
🙂 Liver now corrected. Thanks a lot Pat.
I’m so glad you’re going to share some excerpts from your autobiography drafts. We, your readers, are lucky! This is fun history about your parents. My dad enlisted to fight in the war the day he got out of high school – 1943 – in the U.S. I believe He became a paratrooper and jumped in France and Germany. I have the love letters he wrote to my mom (18 at the time, waiting and working in New York City). I think it’s important to remember our parents, their sacrifices, and what they did to stay connected with their loves.
Your garden – sigh. Just. Lovely.
Thank you so much, Pam. I am pleased to read your memories that have been triggered. It is something I had hoped for.
I love family histories! Looking forward to reading more. Be well 🙂
Thanks very much, Donna. You, too
You should resuscitate the autobiography you appear to have lead an interesting life. The garden’s looking wonderful – kudos to you both, particularly the Head Gardener.
Thank you very much from us both, Sheree. The draft takes me to early adulthood – so there is much more to come
Goody!
🙂
Great title! I look forward to more history.
I just have a few stories of my parents relationship, mostly said to me aloud. After she was gone, all the letters disappeared.
I’m pleased you appreciate the title, Rose. What a shame about the letters. We don’t have letters. either. Thank you very much
I love the pictures very much. A better view of the ‘crime scene.’ 🙂
Thank you very much, Bridget 🙂
I’ll be reading your autobiography with great interest, and isn’t it wonderful to revisit your mother as a young woman. She would never have foreseen, then, the life ahead of her, and that she would still be going strong now! It’s not that long ago she was living independently. The garden shots are divine too.
Thank you so very much, Gwen. Your interest is important.
Love the garden shots from above. What a wonderful way to greet the morning! An engaging Part 1 of “The Knight’s Tale” 🙂
Thank you very much, Rosaliene. “Engaging” is encouraging 🙂
I really enjoy those amazing views, they make you feel as if you were sitting there in front of the trees
Thank you very much, Mina
Most welcome my friend
I am going to think of myself as living in the Cottage of content from now on.
Thanks a lot, Tootlepedal
I enjoyed reading about your parents, Derrick. The garden appears to be holding up under the extreme heat. Stay cool!
Thanks very much, Jill. Cooler today
I love your tales. I would love to read so much more.
Thank you very much, Gary. Much more to come
Your father was quite mischieveous … and mum was his cheeky accomplice .. I enjoyed your story Derrick ..
Thank you so much, Ivor. Much more to come.
Family history becomes more interesting as I get older, so I’m writing about my parents for my children and grand children. I can see from this fascinating snippet why people have urged you to write about yours. Feel free to expand! Thanks for the garden views from above. I especially like the ones with what I believe is the weeping birch.
Thank you, too, JoAnna. Yes – the weeping birch
Every time you show the great spread of the garden I can see the winter skeleton in my mind and the wonder of it is even more splendid.
Thanks very much, John. The seasonal transformation is quite amazing
Your Mum and Dad were a team from the early beginning ??
Thanks very much, Ribana X
Once one begins to write of the past, it can be surprising how many memories come to the fore. Your children and grandchildren will be glad that you have made the effort to put your story down in a readable form – and we will benefit too.
Thank you so much, Anne
So many memories, Derrick. My dad was a medical resident at the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota in 1940. and my mother an English immigrant. I was born in December 1940, and my sister in August 1942. My dad was sent from Santa Barbara to northern Africa in August 1942,a week before my sister’s birth, and traveled between there and up The Italian coast for 3-1/2 years. Many memories of that time are called up as a result of your memories! I love the photosof your parents — your mom was a beautiful young lady!
Thank you very much, Janet. I really hoped this would trigger memories for readers who might share them. You didn’t disappoint. Jackie said “you can see why she caught his eye” 🙂
Autobiography? You better leave at least four or five chapters blank for the bits yet to come! Alternatively, you might enjoy:
https://www.oatridge.co.uk/poems/r/roger-mcgough-let-me-die-a-youngmans-death.php
Great link, John. Two of his stages to come 🙂 Thanks a lot
I’m so glad you are writing your autobiography! Your stories and your family stories are important! I’m so honored to read about your parents! I see your beautiful Mum has always been beautiful! 🙂 And it seems they made the perfect pair! 🙂
OH…I love love love your garden from above photos! 🙂
(((HUGS))) 🙂
PS…I can’t wait to read more of your autobiography! 🙂
Thanks very much, Carolyn. Elizabeth is bringing Mum over today, so it will be a good time to post episode 2. X
OHMYGOSH! She’s getting to come visit! This is SO wonderful! If she can have hugs, please give her one for me! I think of her so often and I pray for her. 🙂
Thank you so much, Carolyn X
I really enjoyed reading your post! Good to see your Mum then and now.
Thank you very much, Rupali. I’m pleased
Dear Derrick,
what a great tale we very much loved to read. And we really enjoyed the drawings.
Your garden looks lush and very well cared for.
Thanks for sharing.
Wishing you a happy weekend
The Fab Four of Cley
? ? ? ?
Thanks very much – all four.
Lovely stories and great pictures.
I am a bit suspicious about that overnight walking story however. The nearest place in Yorkshire to Leicester is Sheffield a distance of about 70 miles!
It reminds me of that film Robin Hood Prince of Thieves. Robin and Azeem land on the Kent coast and Robin says “tonight we will dine with my father in Nottingham”, a distance of 210 miles. That would have been some walk.
I wouldn’t put such distances past my Dad, although maybe it wasn’t Yorkshire.. Thanks a lot, Andrew
A lovely post, Derrick. I’m imagining Keeping illustrating a “a sneaky weekend.” ? It’s so romantic how your father walked that distance to see your mother.
My parents married during WWII–my Dad’s eyesight was too terrible for him to serve in the military. I only ever heard about their courtship from my mom. I would like to have heard my dad’s version.
Thank you very much, Merril. I am pleased to have triggered your memories, too
Before my parents married in 1938, my dad had moved from their little town to Moline, Illinois, where he worked for John Deere. He didn’t walk the 180 miles to see my mother, but he hitch-hiked: a common and much safer practice in those days. I’m not sure how long it took him to get a car, but Mom said once he did, he earned extra money by accepting passengers for the trip. He’d do drop-offs and pickups in both directions.
Good to read these memories, too, Linda. It is what I had hoped for. Thanks very much
Derrick, are these pictures of your garden from above? If yes, it is looking absolutely different, but nevertheless gorgeous!
I love to watch the old photographs. They are really special and create so much memories and imaginations.
Thanks very much, Alexander. Yes – our garden from above.
From above it looks bigger.
Actually, at this time of the year, with the trees in leaf, we don’t see the fence at the far (southern) end, which gives the impression that we have our neighbours’ trees 🙂
The snippet from your autobiography was deeply absorbing. I look forward to reading many more detailed accounts.
Thank you so much, Uma. Next one this evening
Your gardens still look beautiful, even in the heat. I enjoyed reading about your family history, too. Best to you and Jackie. Stay cool!
Thank you so much from us both, Lavinia.
I gather that the Culinary Queen has started sharing my fondness for Sauvignon Blanc.
You, on the other hand, are firmly on the same ground as my husband, Derrick.
I have enjoyed characterization of the aunt in both drawings, but the last illustration made the strongest impression on me, with its horizontal composition and lines flowing from center to opposite directions, expressing discord.
As insightful as ever comments on Keeping, Dolly. I do appreciate this
The pleasure is mine, Derrick.
P.S. caused by technology glitch: I am very much looking forward to your autobiography, Derrick.
🙂
Ah, Derrick, I always love the view from the second floor. Your garden is a paradise.
I loved the story and pictures of your parents. You have such a way of telling a tale!
Thank you so much, Jodie
<3
The garden is looking elegantly arboreal. My aunt and uncle met in the war and he used to visit by bicycle, which some times involved a two day ride from Buckinghamshire to Lancashire. Men were clearly more serious about courtship in those days!
Indeed. Especially with that enforced separation.
🙂
So nice that your father was so dedicated to his wife and sons. ?. He must have been a good man.
He was, indeed, AnneMarie. Thanks very much
Your garden landscape looks like it goes on forever – although that might be because neighbours also have massive gardens/trees…
You have done well to twig that the pictures take in some neighbours’ trees. Thanks very much, Catherine
I LOVE the views of your garden from above. (I’ve been hoping you’d show some.) I enjoyed reading the excerpt from your autobiography. I look forward to reading more!
Thank you so much, Liz. There is more to come.
You’re welcome, Derrick. I look forward to more!
Interesting story about your dad.
Thanks a lot, Mes W
Your welcome.
I am delighted to hear that we are to be treated to your memoirs.
🙂 Thank you so much, Sue
I will be enjoying these blogs–so much day to day person history–and how people are so much the same, no? Just curious, though, what’s a heat wave in your parts? You can give Centigrade–I’ll figure it out. Pauline used to complain about 22C and that’s…late March, early April here…
It is 30C in some places. 22C is OK. I once ran a marathon in 88F. Thanks very much, Lisa.
Ah, it’s all in what you’re used to! 30 is a nice summer temp here. We start being careful at 33-37, especially with the humidity. I hope it gets more normal there soon!
I liked reading about you and your parents, Derrick. My parents were born in 1925 and 1926, so they were new adults, not yet married, during World War II and my dad served in the navy. All these family experiences that are framed by wartime unite a lot of people in how life was.
Such a good unity point Barbara. I like triggering others’ memories, too. Thanks very much.
This will be fascinating reading Derrick.
Thanks very much, Lindsey. I hope so
A wonderful story of your dad walking to visit your mum from Yorkshire. We can only hope it was somewhere in the south of the county not the north!
I’ll say. Thanks very much, Susan