'My family tree having numerous farmers on almost all its many twigs and branches, it was natural that a deep love of the land should run strongly in my veins. I could never quite accept the possibility of a future spent in a genteel suburb, sipping coffee in the mornings and playing vixenish contract bridge in the afternoons.
My parents are not farmers, on the contrary, though very fond of the countryside, neither has ever shown any interest whatever in farming. My mother has a very real aversion to it, though born and reared ons a well-managed and prosperous farm.
John can also number among his antecedents several land-owning country squires, so it was natural that we should accept as a matter of course the possibility of our taking a farm when we married.'
So begins Mary's story of the first three years on a small hill-country farm, Hollybank, on which she and John keep chickens, pigs and cattle. The farm is described as being on the Derbyshire / Cheshire border, with no further details as to its location.
It is a straightforward story, but it has a few quirks.
To make ends meet John will keep his full time job and Mary will run the farm almost single-handedly.
Before they can move in there is work to be done: laying pipes for the water supply, plumbing, installing heating, a sceptic tank etc.
The whole book consists of a description of their experiences buying, keeping, transporting and selling poultry, pigs and cattle. I must admit I was getting a little bored when I suddenly came upon the most intriguing list. Mary is telling us how housework has never been a pleasure to her: 'that evident satisfaction which some women derive from sweeping, polishing and furbishing is something I cannot understand.' John is as desinterested in their house as she is. 'As things are, it would appear to be a race for which of us can make the biggest mess in the shortest time. We are both "putters down" of stuff "just for now". That might be for anything up to three years. At one time, on our kitchen cupboard, I listed the following:'
One thing is certain: Mary would drive me crazy, but I do like that list! I was hoping for more of this, but alas, Mary only has eyes for her calves and pigs. These all have names, and she goes into great detail of how they come to choose them.
A few chapters later Mary is pregnant and has a son. Yes, she tells us about the birth, the problems she has with breast feeding and how she introduces her son to the animals. Does the son have a name? We don't know. A typical sentence goes:
'We returned home from the christening ceremony to find that my lovely Topsy had calved ...'
I would have loved to hear more about how she combined looking after the baby with running the farm. No such luck. The nurse who stayed with them during and after the birth 'had given me every help possible in working out a routine which would allow me to return to my farming activities with the minimum of time spent with the baby .' 'Two hours per day max., the rest of the time is your own.'
She does not mention how she copes once the baby becomes mobile. In fact, except for one 'crying child in the car' the baby is not mentioned again in the whole book.
Instead there are pages and pages devoted to the problems of transporting pigs. I must admit to not reading all them all ....
I have not been able to find any additional information on Mary Clifford and her farm. Of course, there are many 'Hollybank' farms, but I cannot be sure I have found the one from this book.
















