My father-in-law Charlie was a lovely, gentle man. Born the son of a farmer, he spent his entire life working hard upon the land west of The River Trent in an area of Lincolnshire known as The Isle of Axholme.
It was a two hundred acre arable farm upon which he grew barley, potatoes, leeks, turnips, sugar beet, cabbages and broad beans in rotation. Mostly he worked on his own - ploughing, sowing, spraying, harrowing, mending and finally harvesting. He spent countless hours out in those flat fields - alone under the wide Lincolnshire skies with only an Alsatian dog for company.
It was a simple life of seasons passing and the rise and fall of agricultural prices. In his fifties, he built his own modern bungalow to replace the tumbledown farmhouse where my wife grew up. And when I say "built it", I mean he built it with his own hands unlike Sir Christopher Wren or Frank Lloyd Wright.
In his early seventies, Charlie contracted prostate cancer which ate away at his body and after a short battle with that beast he died in Scunthorpe Hospital. This was back in 2000. He should have enjoyed more years but at least he got to see and love his grandchildren - unlike my father who was dead at sixty five.
Long after Charlie died, we discovered that he had kept a diary for many years. As a farmer, he recorded plantings, harvests, prices and weather matters. He always kept a close eye on the weather - measuring rainfall and temperatures.This was more than a hobby for his livelihood partly depended on fluctuations in the weather.
But when he retired at the age of sixty eight, he continued his diary entries and I remember one of them very vividly - "Nothing happened. Nobody came. Nothing on TV. A very boring day.". And there were similar entries about nothingness and dull, empty days.
Maybe the reason I remembered this is that I believe we all have days like that. The blogosphere, celebrity news and social media driven lives seem to fill us with expectations that something should be happening all the time. There should be a buzz, things to write about, maybe even boast about. Excitement, events, phone calls, friends. But the reality is that some days are quite empty. Not much happening. Nothing to say.
That's a part of life that some people struggle to accept.
Most of my days are like that now. I just blog about whatever pops into my head. Charlie sounds like a lovely man and I bet his daughter takes after him :)
ReplyDeleteShe isn't bald and she doesn't have hairy, muscular arms...but I see a lot of him in her.
DeleteSomething ALWAYS happens. Every day. It might be the sighting of a favorite bird or the unexpected meet-up and chat with a neighbor or discovering that the beans in the garden are about ready to start picking. At least, that's the way it is for me. But I can see Charlie's point- so much of life is very much the same-old, same-old and yes, that's just the way it is for most of us.
DeleteOf course we always wake up. We eat. We clean. We look out of the window but for Charlie such days were apparently "Nothing" and "Boring". That's how he called it and who are we to disagree?
DeleteI find that quite sad about your father-in-law's boring days. Do you think it bothered him, after a lifetime of purpose, to fall on those empty days at the end? In my opinion, based solely on my own life's observations, those who have either a purpose or a circle of friends, no matter how small, tend not to feel that alone-ness. But depending on where one lives, it can be hard to have that social circle. I'm thinking here of how my mother moved back to my town after years away, and found a few friends with whom she meets for coffee most days. Maybe it's easier for some people, too, the more extroverted kind, which she is.
ReplyDeleteHe lived in a riverside hamlet - less than sixty residents and no pub or shop. No bus service. He was quite shy.
DeleteAny one of those things would make it difficult to initiate contact; with all of them combined it would be exceedingly hard.
DeleteA lovely piece, Mr pudding.
ReplyDeleteFarming is indeed a solitary and lonely calling.
It is these days but before mechanisation many more people worked the land.
DeleteI think sometimes we actually need a bit of "nothing"... But it's not always easy to turn it into an interesting blog post! (You did. Congratulations!)
ReplyDeleteIf we have "nothing" days we can think and we can remember and in contrast they make the full days more precious.
DeleteYour father-in-law Charlie sounds like a wonderful man. I think the older we get the more "nothing" days we experience. For me I can have the same kind of day and one day it will seem a "nothing" day and the next it will be relaxing and wonderful. Sometimes it is a state of mind and I believe it can be affected by loneliness as well.
ReplyDeleteWhen Charlie was in his prime there wouldn't have been any "nothing" days. There was all that farming and three children plus a few animals. 24 hours a day would not have been enough. As you say, more "nothing" comes with age.
DeleteSometimes I wish for a 'boring' day but I have not had one in years, not even when I was on sick leave for 4 weeks last year after my eye operation and not allowed to read, or be at the computer, or go for a run.
ReplyDeleteYou mention that Charlie retired. That has me wondering how a farmer actually retires. Does he sell or rent the farm out to someone else working the land after him? What happens to the animals?
He sold the land and at that time all of the animals had gone. It was just arable.
DeleteI was up early this morning. Popped into town and the Castle Grounds for my walk. Stopped for my coffee and met a friend and eventually, after doing odds and ends and meeting people in the Coop (it's a small town and a huge supermarket with lots of space to talk) I arrived home. After some lunch and household chores I spent the afternoon in the garden. I caught up with the blog before making dinner and going out for an evening bowls match. So much time occupied and so little achieved i the eyes of many. Unless you measure achievement by contentment. In which case I have achieved a great deal. Tempus fugit cum erant 'habens fun.
ReplyDeleteI suspect that my Latin master would have used "divertidum" in place of "fun" and that you would have been whacked around the back of the head with a rolled up copy of "The Daily Telegraph"..."See me in my study Edwards!"
DeleteThere are many days when nothing overly remarkable happens and it sometimes makes me wonder if I am wasting my life but I'm not sure what I should have been doing apart from what I am doing......
ReplyDeleteThe unremarkable days make the remarkable days so much better.
DeleteI love quiet days...days in which nothing is happening...when nobody is disturbing my peace...days I don't have to go out and about. I love my chosen solitude.
ReplyDeleteI make no excuses...I give none, nor any apology...for enjoying my reclusive lifestyle. I've already been out and about tearing up the town twice this week...that is enough for me...and for the locals! :)
As you say, you are someone who knows how to live happily with periods of solitude when nothing much is happening. Some folk never adjust to that.
DeleteCharlie sounds like he was a very good man. I'd like a few days to spend alone. My brother , who will be eighty next year still actively farms with a son. He should not be doing this.
ReplyDeleteHe must be envious of your teacher's pension Red.
Deletemy mother who is 84 describes it as the waiting for the reaper years
ReplyDeleteI guess that when we are young we have our ploughing years, our sowing years and our growing years - in the midst of life.
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