As I wrote to my good friend Michael Leddy this morning, I have yet to hit my stride with this attempt at picking over the bones of the past. The result, compounded with my wretched memory, is that I am left floundering about qute a but,but at least I have a couple of intellects at the ready to put me back on the straight and narrow...
So, for the time being at any rate, it is best to consider what follows as a series of impressions rather than a reliable account of my early years...
Our worldly belongings are packed into and onto our old car which, in my memory is a blue Triumph convertible. We are leaving Great Wenham behind us to start a new life outside Halesworth in East Suffolk. My stepfather, Pont, has bought Lower Hall Farm and is now trying desperately to make a go of things.
So, for the time being at any rate, it is best to consider what follows as a series of impressions rather than a reliable account of my early years...
Our worldly belongings are packed into and onto our old car which, in my memory is a blue Triumph convertible. We are leaving Great Wenham behind us to start a new life outside Halesworth in East Suffolk. My stepfather, Pont, has bought Lower Hall Farm and is now trying desperately to make a go of things.
It's very easy for me at this distance in time to say that the project was doomed from the start My stepfather was not really cut out for a farming life and even, if he had been, the postwar year could hardly have been less conducive. Lower Hall Farm was, as I have said, set in the village of Linstead Magna (I almost wrote Leptis Magna! other glimpses: farmhands were sometimes paid in kind and we ourselves received provisions from family and friends in Australia and Canada.
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