Dacu Fach and Nanna

Gentle Reader~~I thought I might introduce you to the two main influences in my gardening life.  Due to much moving around and a large family picking over the family photographs {long before I was born} I do not have many photographs of my forebears, so those I do have are most precious to me.

First, I will show you my Great Grandfather {Dacu Fach} known locally as Harris Fach {Little Harries} whom I did not know, but have learnt much about.  This is the only photograph I have of him at his work.  He was a professional, apprentice~time served gardener in the late Victorian and early twentieth century.  He originally lived in the south of the Shire but moved to the north of the Shire as there were many estates needing gardeners, which allowed him to move up the ranks, so to speak.  He was a gardener at Warpool Court estate in the late Victorian era, and appears on the 1901 Census as 'living in the Gardener's Cottage' in the grounds.  Many of his eight children appear on that same Census, including one of his three daughters, my Grandmother {Nanna}, who was probably the single most important influence in my love of gardening.  He became the groundskeeper at the Cathedral, and in his later years he was the gardener at The Grove Hotel, and it is here we see him, up a ladder in the glass house, most probably pruning the grape vines and training his two young apprentices.

Now, I move to his daughter, Frances, my Nanna.  She is pictured here, aged about nineteen, with her very much younger brother Jim {Uncle Jim} who is in his uniform ready to go and serve for King and Country in the trenches of France during The Great War {WWI}  He was a very naughty boy, for he had lied about his age, as so many did back then, so that he could receive the Kings Shilling and sign up to go to war.  I think he is about fifteen in this picture, the dates all tie in and this photograph is one hundred years old this year as we remember the outbreak of WWI.  He doesn't look very old at all, neither does Nanna. I love her outfit.  I wonder what colour it is? She favoured purple greatly.  Thankfully, he returned home safe and sound.  I wonder what she would think, being the subject of a blog in the twenty first century?

Anyway, we lived with Nanna when I was growing up, until her death in 1977 at the age of 80 years.  During most of this time, she encouraged me in the ways of gardening, both indoors and outdoors; the garden was big, long and narrow, and although we did not grow many vegetables at that time, we had fruit trees and bushes, beautiful flowers, and we kept some hens.  The grass was long, for back in those days we did not have a mower, but used a hand operated shears to clip the grass on the main, small lawn area underneath the apple trees.  We had a long washing line that ran for most of the length of the long, narrow garden and I loved to watch her peg out the laundry on wash day {Monday} with wooden pegs, then later watch it sailing in the breeze to dry and bleach in the sun.  I would run in and out of the big, white sheets as they flapped about playing some silly game of hide and seek with myself. I have a not~so~secret passion over laundry drying on lines in the fresh air and I do not like tumble dried clothes one jot!  I also adore ironing.

Nanna loved flowers, more than anything I think.  What she couldn't do with a cutting or snippet of a leaf could be put down on the back of a postage stamp.  One of her favourite poems is in the sidebar of my blog, and her favourite lines were "The kiss of the Sun for pardon, the song of the birds for mirth, one is nearer God's heart in a garden, than anywhere else on Earth" which she taught to me at a very early age.

We would go off, just the two of us, for long walks into the rambling countryside lanes, travelling the highways and byways, but always home in time for tea.  She taught me the names of all the wild flowers and grasses, and so much more as we traipsed along, Grandmother and Granddaughter, hand in hand, best of friends.  They say I look a lot like her, but I don't know.  Mum says she and Dacu Fach would be proud of me for what I do, how I try to give things a go, even though I don't think I'm doing very good at being a gardener.  Well, I hope they won't be too cross with me for all the mistakes I'm making, and the mess I am making too.  I also hope my own dear Daddy is with them and he isn't mad either at all the weeds in his lovely lawn.  There's only so much I can do without help, you know.

It was so easy in the days when Daddy would mow, dig, and do the heavy work and I would do the planting and weeding.  We made a great team.  Since he has been gone, it is not easy doing it all, but I am doing what I can {with my back and arthritis for added hindrance!} with the hours I can spare.  The bigger plan is to make it all manageable~~a place to sit and ponder, a place for wildlife, and a place I can be happy and proud of too.  Remember ~~~

~~~A Gardener's Work Is Never Done~~~