Thoughts on First Rhubarb

“Just had our first rhubarb of the season – delicious! And to think it all started with a rhubarb crown that my grandfather (born in 1898!) cultivated in Staffordshire!”

Forgive me; I have to start this post with something my sister dashed on to Facebook earlier this week. She and her husband live in Wiltshire and I loved this name-check to our grandfather (we always called him “Grandy”), but cannot help wondering what – if he could have read it (he couldn’t read, belonging to a generation where this was the norm) –  what he would have thought.

Because he was a thinker, albeit lightly and locally – and a great one for gardening and nature.  I like to think that he would have been pleased that love of growing-your-own and the nous to cook it still runs in the family. There are times when, on the allotment I am reminded of his quiet manner, folkloric expressions and native intelligence.

He lived a life that spanned man’s first ever controlled powered flight and the first manned landing on the moon. It is hard to imagine what anyone would need to live through now to see so much progress and expansion, but was happy to tend sweet peas, walk twice a year by the sea and work hard every day on the local farms and, at the nd of his life tending the walled gardens at the local manor.



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