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Florence E M Piper; 1970. (S1078)

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Actual Text:	June 14 Sunday 1970 Having lived in our house in Norfolk for one year and 11 days during which many interesting and various things have occurred – some of which I shall endeavour to recall – I have decided to keep a diary of day by day activities as far as possible. June 3, 1969. Moved from 12 Stacey Road Norwich – a dark and gloomy flat which, if ghosts do exist, may have been haunted. The whole area in which the flat was situated was one of departed glory and the decaying evidence of mitability – hastened by the rapid change of events which have overtaken this country in the last 14 years. Since we left houses – fine residences of upper middle-class affluence of Victoria and Edwardian days – have been demolished to make way for soulless concrete and glass boxes to house bureaucratic statistics! Tragic. Bluebells grew in the grounds of one of these neglected houses. The terrace had broken and wasted pillars – another fine Gothic house stood amidst its car park garden, tarmac and ugly, transformed from the grass and flowers of former days. All the windows had been smashed by vandals. Another large house which stood at the end of our road had been renovated but only to be smashed again by hooligans. Most of the inhabited houses were blackened by smoke from steam engines – prior to British Railways destroying these the streamlined ugly diesels – and in these blackened abodes lived an international assembly. Most of them were slum dwellings with here and there a respectable guest house or office. These latter seemed incongruous and overwhelmed by the oppressive slum atmosphere. I was glad to get away as the whole place had this depressing and hopeless air about it. You paragraph things were not enhanced by the offensive attitude adopted by our 80 years old landlady who accused me of breaking her chairs. I left behind a pair of David's pants on the indoor line at number 12 but found a headscarf at the back of a drawer. I left the flat cleaner and tidier than it had been the 'good old days' but this did not please the landlady. On arrival at North album I was obliged to return at once to Norwich to check the inventory with her at 7 PM. Pulsfords arrived about 10 AM on June 3 from Cheltenham. Seeing the same men as I'd seen in and overrode four years ago made my mind return to Gloucestershire. A great wave of desire to return there swept over me and I admit to difficulty in keeping back my nostalgic tears as the chart of the van pulled away about one hour later. Some branches of the ash tree were broken off by the Pantechnian. As the lorry drove round the corner and from my view I felt this was the final full stop of my "Cheltenham chapter". I determined to settle here and believed it would not be difficult. Although the glorious West will forever be my heart's desire, I cannot but praise Norfolk's charm and express my delight in good fortune living in that county. From our windows on the south side we see water meadows filled now with a blaze of burning buttercups and soft gentle green of trees and grass. Cows graze by the Wensum's stream and trailing willows weep beside the tranquil Waterside. All seems piece. June 3, 4, 5 busy settling in and laying carpets. Played radiogram – a much longed for activity. Brisley flower Festival was the first really big event. This old church was in a state of disrepair had been restored mainly by the efforts of one family, the Macleans. The festival had a cricket match on the Saturday and the fate I bought a tea cloth in the mode of the union flag with the slogan "I'm backing Britain" on it. The Fakenham band played and I sat on the grass and listen to it. Also bought jam and a book of trains. The boys had a good time. On the Sunday I attended the service after the cricket. The Bishop umpired in his gators. The road outside the church was packed with cars and police were directing same. A queue of people was filling into the church in this 10 minutes before the service started. The interior itself was packed to overflowing with all age groups and entire families occupied pews – too long emptied. The flowers were beyond words. The seasons and "song of the three children" canticle were the motif. At the back stood the young men, some in leather jackets – whom I later learned at help to cut the grass of the churchyard. The preacher was Canon Dodson – who retired shortly afterwards. His sermon was dynamic and unforgettable. The evening was hot and as he spoke to the packed and eager congregation the sweat poured from his face. He spoke about a Christian revival in this "land of the hedgerow and village spire". Judging by the size and content of the congregation this does not seem a dream but the seeds of reality. After the service I drove to Fakenham in the summer evening. It occurred to me that this day a moon rocket had gone up – yet this TV coverage did not deter the people attending the flower service. Previously I had been on a tour of churches. Elmham, Brisley, Scarning, Beeston. The day was a summer perfection and we drove in a bus among the green hedged lanes fringed by newly spring barley – green and shiny. We had a huge tea at Scarning – strawberries and cream, scones, cakes et cetera. David came along and played with Alison Starkey. Brisley church was being cleaned after restoration. Scarning has connections with Lord Nelson's family and an interesting priest room. A cricket match was in progress in the village. Beeston was lovely and the view was lovely from the windows by the altar. The old books of records were laid out of the back of the church and all photographs in the vestry. A very happy day – with a peaceful close. I play the piano at night. August 12, 1969 Ian away. Church outing to great Yarmouth. After months of heatwave today the weather broke. After great preparation the night before we had only about 20 minutes on the beach. We left the lunch at 1230 in a cafe and whilst we were eating the rain started. It deluged and we hid in doorways. Went round Maritime Museum, so many Margate boats et cetera and of course relics of Nelson. In desperation tried for Britannia Pier but it was impossible to cross the road. We did get in eventually rather wet and spent some time in the cafe on the pier other people also took refuge there. With towel on David's head and on Colin a woolly we re-cross the road Cheltenham shop stop I got so wet that it was necessary for me to change into my bathing costume on the bus. We spent the last hour or so on the bus together with several other people. Altogether disappointing weather day we had a nice change shall long remember it. August September Visits of Dad and Joyce Daddy Bunches, Vi and Rene Visits to Hunstanton, Great Yarmouth. Took job with Gallup poll. Met Colin and Dodi – my first and very dear friends here. Sunday coffee mornings for conservatives during which met Mrs Holmes and Mr Maclean. September Beef and beer at the Bintry Conservative Association Mess Ball (Battle of Britain) Conservative meetings, met Mr Hawkins at Elmham Hall. Discussed Common Market in detail
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