roots will have the drains up. So as soon as Peter got back to school he organised a tree moving party of staff and sixth formers on a Saturday. The walnut, like the mulberry, was fifteen years old and well grown, nearly twenty feet high and with a trunk eight inches across, but we decided we must save it if at all possible. It and the mulberry were the only things taller than horseradish now growing in the garden. First we dug an enormous hole beyond what was to be our lawn – there it would partially screen the chicken run but not overshadow it. Then they (my job was to cook and make tea) dug out a circle all round the tree – luckily some had brought their own spades – and, keeping as much of the root ball as possible, began to excavate under the tree, gradually dragging our large groundsheet below the severed roots. It took a very long time. Finally we had it and a great deal of earth on the groundsheet, the tree still more or less upright. The next job was to bucket thirty buckets of water from our tap to the new hole. While that soaked in we all stopped for tea. Then more water and men and boys dragged the tree down to the new position where some held it upright while others filled in all around and tamped down. It was teatime before the walnut was looking comfortable in its new, permanent situation. We had no stake for it that would be any good so we just had to give it a final bucket or two of water and hope for the best, and I served tea to the triumphant working party. The groundsheet was never the same again.

My mother had given me a bundle of hawthorn twigs as an advance Christmas present, but before we could set them we had to put up the rabbit fencing. The whole garden must be protected with bent angle irons, bent to stop the little blighters from digging underneath, and then fenced with wire netting also bent and let at least six inches into the ground. To make doubly sure we then put an inner rabbit fence round the vegetable patch to be and finished it off with a small gate also covered in wire netting. Just inside the outer fence we set our hawthorns. There were enough to do the whole of the east side and to go half way round the north, which was to be our frontage onto the right of way.

The winter of 1949–50 was very mild and weeds continued to grow. Whenever we disturbed the soil, hedge garlic grew like mustard and cress on flannel. It was not difficult to pull out but within a week it was back. Luckily for us there was no snow and very little frost. Graham often came to help Peter. He had become a family friend.

But I was having problems. The workmen started digging the footings after Christmas. Mr Woolnough had asked Yvonne if they could use her cart shed to make their tea in, but she refused, so he brought a wooden hut where they could sit and take their breaks. When I am pregnant I need to “spend a penny” frequently. In fact, when I was pregnant with Gale and