Posted: 31/12/2014 at 16:08
I have just tidied up a bit in the garden, very leisurely as I was ruminating on the changes there have been since it was first built in 1928 by a young man who self built the bungalow, then only four small rooms and the garden from a corner of the farmer's field, hence the name of the bungalow, "Springfield" as it was built on the spring field. The builder emigrated to Australia a few years after and the army major who bought it was in a wheelchair and so had his gardener make nine serried ranks of concrete paths , all parallel, across the middle of the garden, now almost invisible as I have filled the beds with shrubs and roses and alpines and - you name it, I have it somewhere and the edges are all blurred by the spilling foliage and flowers. We bought the bungalow from the major's gardener and housekeeper to whom it was left. He had built a lean -to kitchen on the back, a garage where the pig sty had been, a very large drawing room with French doors opening on to the garden and put silk oak flooring in the hall. He also had put a floor and lighting in the loft for storage and a pullup folding ladder to reach it. His gardener had extended the orchard and grew masses of strawberries and herbs for the housekeeper. The major died in 1964 and then we moved in with 4 children and another on the way. The garden seemed big enough to suit the whole family, always a quiet spot for the pram, old trees to make tree houses, corners for "Shops" and "museums" or just dens, grass to camp out on in tents with friends, loam enough to feed us all and masses of fruit. What changes it has seen since then - seven children all grown up, seven grandchildren nearly all grown up.