Post 88 Marriage Proposals Sixties style

 Only rarely these days will a young man be sufficiently old fashioned  to  ask a girl's father for permission to take her hand in marriage.  It is understandable that fathers wish to interrogate those wishing to marry their daughters, not least to make certain they are financially secure.    The experience of a father of four daughters demonstrates this well. When a friend commented how much better off he must be now that all his daughters were married, he remarked    ‘Yes,   it’s great to have my daughters off my hands. My problem now is keeping four son-in-laws on their feet.’ One young man complained of his inability to save enough money to contemplate marriage. ‘ It’s not the cost of the car,’  he explained,  ‘it’s the cost of all the accessories.’   ‘Yes,’  his father replied,  ‘especially those with short skirts and blond hair.’ In these modern times, it is rare for a young man to formally ask a father for his daughter’s hand in marriage but in the 50s and 60s this was a

Post 87 Doctor James Bond comes to the rescue of a young lady

  Ian was a general practitioner in Herefordshire and enjoyed his life there immensely.   He found that one of the delights of being a doctor in a rural practice was that he was able to blend seamlessly into country life although , like the local vicar, publican, and vet, he was distinguished by virtue of his profession.    Living within his practice area, buying groceries at the village shop, and drinking in the village pub, he rubbed shoulders with his patients every day and built a solid relationship with them.     He didn’t mind too much if they sought his advice out of hours when one of their children developed a rash or cut their leg and, in return, there was always someone to lend a hand with some heavy job in the garden, or if a baby sitter was needed at short notice.   There were also country pursuits to be enjoyed, riding being Ian’s favourite pastime.    He had a couple of horses stabled at his home and a three-acre paddock in which they could graze.    He also enjoyed

Blog 86 A teething problem many years ago.

Mrs Meek was a big woman. She was loud, domineering and opinionated – all in all an intimidating woman who certainly wasn’t ‘meek’ by nature.   She had been admitted with abdominal pain but bitterly resented having to be in the main ward and she wearied the nurses with her constant demands and criticisms. She also irritated her fellow patients with her never ending judgement of the food and the behaviour of the nurses. The recipient of most of this carping was Lily Davis a frail old lady of 92 in the adjacent bed of the large and airy nightingale ward. This was particularly unfortunate as Lily was coming to the end of her days and would have appreciated a little peace and quiet. The ward was hectically busy on the morning that Lily died; the nurses were short staffed, a consultant ward round was in progress, a new patient was waiting to be admitted and Mrs Meek was due in the x-ray department for some pictures of her belly so Student Nurse Carol Jackson was delegated to prepare Lily