Hut circle

From Anna Behan's 1979 collection, though she cannot have been the photographer as she is featured. L to R round the circle Ros Cleal, Jo Bacon, Terry Courtney, Bob Alvey, Phil Dixon, Richard Savage, Frank Green, Jim Gale, Anna Collinge, and Paul Noakes. C-H-M assumes this must have been taken from part way up the photographic tower as the perspective exceeds any angle that could have been achieved from the top of a spoil heap.

Relaxing in Cheltenham ...

It can't be December already, but it is. C-H-M enjoyed his Cooking Theory Examination yesterday and is looking forward to the Practical Examination on Friday. This involves cooking under examination conditions against the clock (no talking except about sharing ovens, no conferring, no asking the teachers what to do or how to cook it). If the food isn't served at the appointed hour you have to leave the kitchen and you fail. So served at exactly 1.30pm will be one loaf of Italian bread, one chicken sauté Normande with mashed potatoes, carrot batons and broccoli and one lemon meringue pie... And no, that's not a balanced menu: it's meant to test the skills we've learned this term, as indeed it will. Must go and write the time plan now. All good clean fun.

Also good clean fun was a visit to the beer tent on a Thursday off in Cheltenham. Pictured here in one of Corky Gregory's photos are, L to R: Paul Noakes, John Howell, C-H-M, Jane Charman, Ros Cleal and Jo Bacon. Judging from the immoderate amount of hair displayed by C-H-M this must be 1977. (C-H-M's hair featured for this season only as it all began to fall out the following year.) Dr Ferris remarked that I look as though I've walked into a Timotei advertisement: "Even now, people vividly remember the advert featuring a lady with wonderful long blonde hair walking through a sun-dappled meadow", says their website. Steady on, Dr Ferris ...

Ullenwood scene

L to R: Philip Dixon, Frank Green, Anna Collinge ? Naomi Jackson, and Jo Bacon at Ullenwood. This is from Jane Dineen's 1980 collection. It looks to C-H-M as though it may be after breakfast just before going up to site. The alternatives are pre-supper one evening or a Thursday before going into Cheltenham.

Thinking of supper, a correspondent writes:

"Dear Crickley Hill Man,

I write to you in desperation. I'm at my wits' end and need your help. Last night I made a celeriac mash which, though delicious, had a slightly sludgy colour to it as the celeriac went brown during its initial cooking in salted water. What caused the browning I don't know and seek your advice as to how to prevent this happening in future. The only alternative course of action is for me to foreswear celeriac for ever more; as you imagine, a potential middle class nightmare on a par with running out of organic couscous. Please help.

Desperate of Selly Oak"

Dear Desperate of Selly Oak,

Fear not: you need not suffer permanent social ignominy. Celeriac oxidises quite fast after it has been peeled, a little like the flesh of apples: the cure is the same: as you prepare the celeriac before cooking, pop it into acidulated water (the juice of half a lemon will do the trick) and the distressing browning that you have suffered will not happen.

Crickley Hill Man.

Later: an e-mail arrives in C-H-M's inbox headed

'Acidulated Response' :

"Dear Crickley Hill Man,

Thank you, thank you, thank you. You have saved my marriage.

'Desperate of Selly Oak' (as was)."

Glad to be of service ...

What are they waiting for?

A charming photo taken at Ullenwood in 1980 sent to C-H-M by Sue Lee Jeffs (now Bauman). L to R: Jo Bacon, Kate Gilbert, Sue herself and Lucy Loveridge. Now they're obviously waiting for something. Maybe the clue's above Jo's head. Was it a bed? Was it a man? Or did they hope to have a shower, but only on two nights out of three? Ullenwood was always full of possibilities.

All smiles at lunch in 1977

A beautiful day and everyone in a good mood at lunch. L to R: Corky Gregory, Kate Gilbert, Jo Bacon, Rosie from Lytham St Annes, Ros Cleal, Jim Irvine, and is that a youthful Dave Hollos in the foreground? Jim's positioning and the hint of tablecloth tells me this was the day he sat down to lunch with Max Glaskin, Robert Roberts and John Howell with Jane waiting at table, known as Wibble, because of a terrible but very funny joke about a butler that Max told that year. Wine, most unusually was served as evidenced by one very early post on this blog. Photo: Anna Behan. Update: and, now, I realise I must have taken this photo just before or after Anna took hers.

The butler joke Max told went something like this: "An English Lord had a butler named Wibble. One very hot summer's day, his Lordship summoned Wibble and said, "Wibble, would you run my bath, please?" "Certainly, my Lord," replied Wibble. "Will there be anything else, my Lord?" "Yes, Wibble, please see that some cool clothes are laid out after the bath. It's confoundedly warm." "Indeed it is, my Lord. Certainly, my Lord. Your Lordship's linen suit, I think. Will there be anything else, my Lord?" "Yes, Wibble, please tell her Ladyship I will dine at my club." "Of course, my Lord" "Anything else, my Lord?" "That will be all. Get on with running the bath, man."

Wibble ran the bath, told his Lordship it was ready and, having escorted him to his bath, hovered nearby in case there were any further instructions. "Will there be anything else my lord?" "This bath is not too hot is it, Wibble?" "No, my Lord, I have checked the temperature by dipping my elbow in it. Your Lordship will not be scalded. Will there be anything else my lord?" "No, Wibble. If I require anything else I shall call you." With that, his Lordship lowered himself into the water and let out a long, loud fart.

The blisteringly hot day sapped the energy of both Lord and butler. His Lordship went for a walk, dined at his club, came home and, at last, retired to bed. It was still sweltering. He was aghast to find a hot water-bottle in his bed. Furious, he rang the bell for Wibble. "Wibble, have you taken leave of your senses, man? What the hell is a hot water-bottle doing in my bed? It's one of the hottest days for months. One can scarcely bear to move. There isn't a trace of a breeze. I'm gasping for the touch of cool bedlinen. And you take it upon yourself to put a blasted hot water-bottle in my bed. What on earth were you thinking of, man?"

"But my Lord, you asked for a hot water-bottle." "I most certainly did not! Why would I order a hot water-bottle on a day like this?" "But you did, my Lord. As you lowered yourself into your bath this morning, I distinctly heard you say, "Whadabowdawadderboddlewibble?"" © Max Glaskin 1977 and Julian Parker 2009.

Tea break 1987

Framed by boots belonging to Steve Vaughan and Simon Bacon, John and Julie Gale look cheery enough in spite of the damp in this 1987 Phillpotts tea break picture. Even the find hut looks soaked through.

Pubs other than the Air Balloon

Mr Boden, his memory jogged by my last post about the Royal George, writes to say "I recall with pleasure 1980 when I had motorised transport available. This was the dark blue Hillman Hunter Estate property of RP and Mrs S Roberts at that time, due solely to the fact that I had replaced the cylinder head gasket prior to our arrival at CH. We went occasionally to a fantastic country pub with the realest of real ales called the Golden Heart somewhere out Birdlip way, generally sitting outside looking out over a sort of splendid hill view, as I vaguely recall. We could get about 7 in this vehicle, so tended to pick nice girls and Ferris as extra passengers, but an irregular treat, as generally considered anti-social not to be Air Ballooning with the rest of the team. It was very useful having vehicular access that year, as I had to go back to Oxford on a fortnightly basis to sign on."

Ah, so that's why I have few memories of the Golden Heart: being neither a nice girl nor a Ferris I rarely qualified for a lift.

J. B. will be delighted to hear that the Golden Heart is still in fine fettle and possibly even better fettle, as its website confirms what Les Capon and Jill Hummerstone recently told me: that it has won Good Pub Guide 'Pub of the Year' 2009. So I expect the beer is still pretty good.

Jim Irvine writes: "There was also the Green Dragon to which quite a few of us adjourned of a summer evening. Usually via the bangers of Messrs Bacon and White. Some of us even discovered the Seven Tuns at Chedworth which I seem to recall did a very fair pint of Tim Taylor's Landlord. Once, 2 carloads went to a pub further out on the Golden Heart road called - I think - the Highwayman. It was a single visit!The pub was big and quiet. When we arrived en masse the manager smiled and asked if we were a coach trip. Leatherhead said "No, we'd come up in convoy" and wondered why the manager's face went white. It was only later we realised the famous Hippie Convoy was also in the area. But so far so good. The problem was when Sonia and some other lady asked for pints. They were told, in no uncertain terms, that pints were not served to ladies in this establishment. The evening went quite well apart from these hiccoughs - but we never went back!"

9 diggers and a 5-barred gate ...

Jim Irvine sends this from 1983.  L to R: Simon Bacon, Jim ? (sadly killed shortly thereafter in a car accident) Sue Bird, ?, John Watterson, Mel ?, Malcolm White, Nina Stoyan, and Griff.  Was this taken just outside Ullenwood with Greenway Lane down to the left?

Update: John Watterson writes: "I don't think we know each other, but Jim Irvine sent you a photograph with me in (John Watterson).  I can help complete a couple of missing names: Sue Bird (now Sue Burrett), Denise (I think...she was friend of Melanie's) ?, John Watterson, Mel(anie) Grant  (now Melanie Thwaites). After all these years I'm still in close contact with Malcolm White, and hear from Sue and Mel every x-mas. The photograph brings back some wonderful memories, but Jim's death was a tragedy. The photograph was taken just outside Ullenwood with Greenway Lane down to the left."

Hard work ...

From Jim Irvine's archive, he thinks from 1983: L to R ? (might be Malcolm White), Nigel Stilman (I believe went on to fame as designer etc for Games Workshop?) Nigel Brownjohn, Ian, Andy ? and Simon Bacon.  I think this may have been "clean up before a photograph" time.  If you look closely, the line of diggers are all on their knees just outside the cutting, working away at the very edge of the cutting.

A wet and woolly 1987 tea break ...

No flip-flops and bikinis this day on the hill. Walking boots, wellies and pullovers de rigueur apart from for Simon Bacon whom I don't think I know. But he's obviously "well hard" when you compare his flimsy t-shirt to his companions' garb. You can see that the ground is damp and that the tea was much needed for inner warmth. One of those days when you couldn't ever quite get dry or comfortable and Ullenwood would have stunk of wet muddy clothing in the evening. L to R: Steve Vaughan, Joanne Milroy, John Gale, Bob Alvy, Julie Gale, Simon Bacon, Nick Snashall.

That 1977 lunch again ...

Amongst others: Penny Hart (then Griffiths) and Anna Behan (then Collinge) in their yellow CH77 t-shirts, Lucy Loveridge, Corky Gregory in blue spotted headscarf, Jo Bacon in a white shirt, Robert Roberts, a hint of Jim Irvine,  John Howell at the table enjoying their vino, and possibly Oliver Crick in the red vest on the right.

Lunch 1977

Another sunny lunch break: Corky Gregory, Kate Gilbert, Ros Cleal and just behind her Jo Bacon. The hill was so dry that very hot summer that the grass just all turned to straw. There was a forest fire just a short distance from Ullenwood that year and we all scrambled to put it out. Water was not the only liquid that was used to quench the flames... Update: think I'm wrong about the year of this photo: not the scorching year of 1976 but actually from 1977. 

Crickley Hill 1980 looking across the cutting towards Barrow Wake ...

The end of the 1980 season went at a very fast pace as we rushed to finish the cuttings on the National Trust side of the fence. Here Ros Cleal and Jo Bacon plan against the clock, with the planning frames propped up on buckets. The frames are 2 metres square steel strung every 20 centimetres. Wearing the boiler suit in the foreground is Robert Roberts: is that Lucy Loveridge in the headscarf behind Ros?