Going through all the stuff that's left behind when people shuffle off this mortal coil there's always a quantity of what the dealers like to call 'printed ephemera'. This is an example. Nothing remarkable but somehow it sums up the austerity Britain in which I grew up. Of course I had no idea that I was living in austerity Britain at the time what with my free clinic orange juice and cod liver oil and machines in shoe shops that x-rayed my feet. The point is that we were being taken care of, and the government was providing for us. This notebook, dated (can you believe they'd bother to do that?) 1952 proudly states that it is 'Supplied for the Public Service'. The cover is set in Gill in just two weights with a little Times for the reference number and has the look of those 'Don't Panic' posters so popular these days - consequently it appears really quite modern. How nice it would be if rather than the ubiquitous 'red and black' notebooks so beloved of account managers today, someone would produce one of these little beauties or it's foolscap equivalent and start taking down the great matters of pith and moment. My aunt who worked for the 'Min of Ag and Fish' scribbled in thousands of these cream covered notebooks as she tramped the dairy farms of West Kent and East Surrey in her mission of enforcing dairy hygiene and eradicating TB. Her journeys, upon which I occasionally accompanied her took place initially in her MG 'Y' Type sporting saloon, actually a rather underpowered device which however smelled delightful and gave one the impression of traveling around in a drawing room. As dusk approached the orange glow from the octagonal dashboard instruments proved mesmerising and I was normally sound asleep by the time we arrived home. I can still catch the aroma of her Chanel Number Five mixed with Morney's Lilly of the Valley...a curious juxtaposition with her stout brogues, tweed suits and beret...there was something of P.G.Woodehouse about her. She used cattle artificial insemination rods to prop up her Chrysanthemums and took great delight in telling the vicar when he asked where she managed to find such useful items. Funny how such an insignificant object should awaken those memories.
9 comments:
Yes, tasteful type on this cover. I wonder what the previous 136 versions prior this 'No. 137' were like?
Your aunt sounds like a great character by the way!
I daresay there's an HMSO collector/anorak out there who could tell us. You're right, the Aunt was magnificent and bought me my first ever suit from Dalton's in Friars Walk Lewes (now a posh-frocks shop of the type displaying one garment carefully crafed from hessian in regulation Lewes style).
Lovely evocative blog Jon. That notebook is an absolute belter. A marketing opportunity for Wartime Housewife I think.
I assume she has a stock of them upon which she writes her shopping lists in indelible pencil (remember those? ) - "don't lick them they're poisonous", said one's elders.
I am dismayed and ashamed to admit that I've never seen one of these, let alone have a stash of them. Wish I had. But as Peter said, definitely a marketing opportunity for when my merchandise hits the virtual shelves!
By the way, I've only just discovered your blog. Lovely. I look forward to reading more.
Thank you WH, I am inspired by your wise words. The 'Tasmanian' tale made me quite moisty eyed particularly the pithy quotations, brim full of the wisdom of years.
This is an absolute delight in every respect. Great smile creating post.
Thank you CF. As a Rook you would remember Dalton's in Friars Walk too.
Bought my school uniform in there. Did I want to remember that? Thanks.
Still haven't discovered the root of Rook...
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