I'm sure there are people on here smiling at two old men remembering 'the good old days'.
There is no better table than the old farmhouse kitchen at the end of a succesful harvest. A massive kitchen with a slab floor, a table made from 4 inch thick wood and festooned with a massive ham, cheese, pickles, bread and scones. Tea that is impossible to re-create outside of the farmhouse. The farmers wife, arms like a Welsh full back, smiling widely as she watched us all eat. And afterwards, the farmer lining us up in a row; 9 shillings for me for two weeks work as I was 'just a nipper but a good worker'. 3 pounds for my dad, 18 shillings for my older brothers and so on.
A week later, the farmer came round with a bag of potatoes for all the families that had helped in the harvest.
I don't know if those days were better but I try to re-create them in my older age. I bake bread, cakes, make pickles, jams and chutneys. I try to grow as much as I can in my small garden, I buy milk straight from the cow at a local farm and know the lambs, cows and turkeys the farmer sells at the door. If it makes a difference, I will invite you all to my 80th birthday, if not I can at least say that it wasn't Macdonalds or Burger King that finished me off
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