Another Sunday.

ANOTHER SUNDAY.

The morning air, crisp with frost, greeted him as he opened the door to
step out on to the stone flagged floor, leading into the fold
yard.
The old hand pump, standing next to the house door, long since
discarded for the modern tap water, had a long icicle hanging from the
leaded spout.
He bent down, and grasping it between his fingers, broke it
Off and lifted the frozen stalactite up to catch the rays of the
weak morning sun which was just appearing in the east.
The light was caught within the prism, and gave off a rainbow like
brilliance.

The small gate creaked as it swung on its hinges, the noise alerting
the beasts awaiting him in the yard, and brought
Forth comment from the ones who always seemed to think that feeding
time was overdue.

He stepped off the cobbles of the path onto the thickly packed straw
covering the ground, feeling the hard, frozen, uneven surface made by
the cloven hoofs during the softer weather.
Crossing over to the stone building on the East wall and opening the
door, he was greeted by the bleat of calves and the warm heavy familiar
smell of animals.

The galvanised bin top clanged against the wall as the
Lid was thrown open, and a flash of brown fur erupted past his hand as
a small rat, taking its morning meal was disturbed.
His lips formed a soft curse as he struck at the rodent with the scoop
that he used for measuring the feed.

The next hour was filled with routine jobs, performed at
A measured pace with nothing forgotten. He enjoyed his morning tasks
and the familiar duties, giving him a feeling of satisfaction.

PAGE.- 2 -

He was not a man for showing a lot of affection,
But the calves, licking his hand as he provided for their needs, also
the cat rubbing its back against his leg, were treated to a gentle
touch, which disguised an inner tenderness, not easily recognised by
the majority of humans.

By the time, he had finished his morning tasks; the sun had gained
strength, taking the shadows away and beginning to remove the white
frost from the roofs and exposed areas.

It was good to step into the warm kitchen and to smell the rich aroma
of bacon gently frying. He sat at the table looking into the fire, and
enjoyed the sweet hot taste of strong tea.
Reaching into his pocket, he took out his box of matches, which were
always contained in a small leather covering, and proceeded to fill and
light his first pipe of the day.
This was done with the same slow easy pace that governed his existence.
Clouds of light blue smoke were puffed into the air, as the careful
lighting and ritual took place.
The fire having formed a bridge while burning, dropped with
A clatter, causing him to start slightly and bring his mind to everyday
things.
He had been day dreaming a little with the warmth of the kitchen, after
being out in the cold, and he thought to himself that. " Someone would
have remembered today, nothing had been said at
breakfast,&;#8230;..But, nothing was ever said much at breakfast.
How long was it now?&;#8230; Is it seventy or seventy
one?&;#8230;..He never could remember".
" Well ", he thought, " If I can't remember, why should anyone else?
"
He stretched his legs and stood.
Walking across to the coats hanging on the pegs near the door, he put
on his jacket and hat, his stick, standing in the corner fitted into
his hand like an old friend.

PAGE. - 3 -

He walked out of the door and across the road, to stand and survey the
surrounding countryside.
Things were barren at this time of the year, but he knew that the
dormant life within the land would again break forth, when nature
worked its annual miracle.

He turned, and with a measured pace, walked down the road a short way,
turning to where a bundle of black and white hair was standing, waiting
with anticipation at the prospect of its daily run.
The dog ran among the trees in the orchard with the first burst of
released energy, sniffing at various interesting scents which greeted
its sensitive nose, and after investigation, passed on to new
delights.

The dog stopped, its ears lifted to catch the sound of the familiar
tread of boots walking away along the road, the sound, clear in the
morning air. In addition, with another burst of energy, it exploded
into action to join his master and follow at his heels, pausing only to
check any interesting piece of the roadside. Lifting its leg, it marked
its territory with the contempt of a dog, certain of its
position.
At the junction of the lane, he stopped to poke with the walking stick
into a plastic bag, some inconsiderate person had thrown into the
hedge. Lifting it carefully, he carried it ten yard to the bin supplied
for such rubbish, wishing that he could throw the mess into the
offending person's garden.
Litter was something, which touched a raw nerve within him, he liked
order and routine, with a place for everything, and everything in its
place. Nothing was ever wasted, pieces of string collected, and plastic
bags folded. Anything of which was considered to be of no use was burnt
at points around the farm, on days selected for the weather conditions
and direction of wind.

PAGE. - 4 -

He was a cautious man, of habits developed from his early years, when
he had worked from before daybreak until after dark, to scratch a
living from the land, to enable him to raise a family, and pay his way
in life, proud in his inner being, that he was self sufficient, asking
for nothing, and in debt to no one.
A God fearing man, aware of his reliance on the elements and God, but
critical of the administration of the Church.
Not that he voiced his opinions for all to hear, to anyone who knew
him, his feelings were very plain by the look, or silence which greeted
certain subjects of conversation.

The ridings within the woods were thick with the autumn leaves, and
his tread was muffled, apart from the occasional twig snapping loudly
under his heel.
The dog with its tail and hind quarters just visible, could be heard
scratching at the entrance of a rabbit hole, which it had located with
the smell of fresh earth, having been excavated by its inhabitants
during the early morning to expand their subterranean home.

As they came out of the woods on the south, they stopped.
The Dog, taking a drink from the spring which bubbled away all the
year, emerged from the ditch, to shake the water from its head, and
then to sit down to scratch its ear, to try and dislodge a sticky burr,
which had attached its self firmly onto the hair.
The man from his advantage point, looked across at the motorway which
was like an open wound across the countryside. Carrying the noisy,
smelly metal vehicles, moving like Ants along the concrete ribbon,
rushing with suicidal urgency through the peaceful rural area, unaware
of the silent observer.

PAGE. - 5 -

He had watch the road being built with interest, sorry to lose the
valuable land, but happy with the compensation paid.
He had been amazed at the earth moving equipment, over awed by its size
and capacity for work, puzzled by the numerous excavations, and
finally, rather surprised at the results, after what had appeared to be
total confusion.

He reflected over his seventy years, remembering the view as it was in
his youth, when fields and woods had been the only things that could be
seen.
Many changes had taken place, and he realised, but would not openly
admit to it, that quite a lot had been for the better.

The sound of the church bell calling people to morning service, carried
very clearly on the sharp air, and with his right hand, he pulled the
large watch from his left hand waistcoat pocket to check the time,
giving the winder a few turns before returning it, and then proceeded
to refill his pipe, carefully rubbing the tobacco between the palms of
his hands, and then, methodically packing the bowl with practised
fingers, and finally, applying the flame. Puffing until he was
satisfied that it was burning evenly before proceeding on his
way.

Outside the House door, the thick mud was removed from his boots with
the metal scraper set on the wall side. And then, using the stiff yard
brush to remove the remainder, he went into the kitchen to sit in the
Windsor chair, just inside the door and, removing his heavy boots, he
placed on his feet the slippers he had been given at his last
birthday.

PAGE. - 6 -

Dinner was placed on the table at twelve o' clock. Meals like
everything else were taken at fixed times, the word lunch was a term
that was not used. Breakfast was served at eight, after the milking and
feeding was completed.
Dinner at twelve, teatime at four and supper at ten. Thus dividing the
day into tidy and orderly periods, only varied when visitors, who were
always welcome, came to bring news, or paid arranged visits.

Sitting at the table, he picked up his knife and fork to tackle the
first course of his Sunday dinner. A large golden piece of Yorkshire
pudding, covered with thick steaming brown gravy.
Following which, the joint of beef was placed before him, and after
sharpening the knife on the steel, which was laid next to his plate, he
carved portions of meat for all present.
There was a pie or selection of other things for anyone who required
additional food, but usually, Sunday dinner was enough for
anyone.

And anyway&;#8230;.!

Teatime would be at four o' clock.

After having a cup of tea, he went through to sit in the front room,
with his back to the light coming from the window.
Putting on his spectacles, he picked up the Sunday paper to read what
the rest of the world was doing.

He soon tired of the depressing communications and his head slowly
dropped onto the cushion of the chair, as a drowsy feeling of wellbeing
slipped over him.

PAGE. - 7 -

He awoke to the sound of people coming into the house,
Also, the clatter of feet running down the hallway, followed by the
door, bursting open as two grandchildren pushing at each other, both
wanting to be the first to thrust upon him their carefully wrapped
parcel.
He tactfully took them both at the same time, as they climbed onto his
chair, kissing him, and wishing him a happy birthday.
The problem of which parcel to open first, was resolved by saying that.
" Ladies should be first". Drawing the comment from the boy, that. "
Grandpa likes to keep the best until the last ". Followed be an
eruption of tempers, resulting in them both being instructed to
"Change, and go and play".
Laughter could be heard very soon afterwards, as some new delight
filled their minds and attention.

The afternoon and evening were filled, with the visitation of friends
and relations, bringing small gifts and greetings, until he heard the
clock in the kitchen strike nine o' clock.
He put on his boots and jacket, pulled his hat firmly upon his head and
performed his nightly routine of checking every building, and the
welfare of all his stock.
The cold night air brought a flush to his cheeks, as he looked up at
the clear, bright, starlight sky. The moon, lighting the farm buildings
with a soft glow.

Returning into the house, he locked all the doors and made sure that
everything was secure. Then, turning to the kitchen table, he picked up
a piece of paper, covered with crayon drawings.
Written across the bottom of the paper were the words.

" Happy Birthday Grandpa "&;#8230;&;#8230;" Have a good Day
".

He considered the writing,&;#8230;.reading the words slowly again,
and then, smiling to himself he said out loud.

" By gum! &;#8230;..Yes!&;#8230;.It has been a good day "
G,D.J.