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[At Welwick] we were a dairy farm. He was a very old boss who was due to retire any time but he’d kept on for the war, and he had one daughter who I worked with a lot. I did the milking, and then his daughter and I did a milk round in the village delivering the milk. We carried it in a can, there was nothing else — you measured it out in half pints, pints whatever they wanted. I thoroughly enjoyed it, but we’d nothing to do with anything mechanical, everything was horses and rulleys.

We used to have little whist drives and that [at my landlady’s house]. We had these once or twice a week at each other’s houses, we did it for church. There wasn’t enough room to move about — you sat in your seat and you stayed put and they passed you the cup of tea or whatever. We used to do this regularly for church because she was a big church lady. We had a village hall with the odd dance, but there wasn’t much to do in Welwick. I used to slip home quite a lot, and it was 1s9d return from Patrington to Hull then on the bus.

Then I had the chance of this move. I went to work at Waterworth’s, that’s the farm the Hayride sets off from now, Northlands Farm. We did milking — my job was rearing calves as well, and I used to look after all the feeding of the stock. There was a foreman that looked after horses, but we were more modern, we had a lot of tractors. We used to separate the milk and make butter, and people would come and buy the milk from the farm. We didn’t deliver like on the other farm — the village would have been too big to go round.

I lived with an old lady in Walkington, a lovely lady called Mrs McLean, and she had an old gentleman used to lodge there called Mr Hart. We used to have to spell it so that she was never on her own. If I went home that weekend he used to stay, and when he wanted to go to his daughter’s or his sons, I was on that weekend. So we never left her by herself.

They had regular dances at Walkington, and beetle drives, whist drives very regular. Military whist, all sorts at Walkington, it kept us all occupied. We went to Beverley dancing as well. We found plenty to do with what was in the village though.

I reared all the calves, and I enjoyed it. When we worked in the fields there wasn’t the modern machinery. You went by yourself with the hoe, and walked backwards and forwards by yourself. And often I found a note in the hedge and on it they’d written on it as they went by, what are you looking for Jean? ‘Cos they called it ‘looking’.

When you wanted to go anywhere you jumped on your bike, there wasn’t people to put you in the car and take you. My boss had a car, but he wasn’t the type of boss who’d be running you about in it. We didn’t think anything of it, you either walked or stayed put.

When we took our stock up to Dalton Park to take them off the farm we walked them. Half way there when we got through Cherry [Burton] we met another chap with his stock and took them all together and the same on the way home. I can’t remember how long it took. We hadn’t a trailer or a lorry. When we brought them back we got to the same point as we met him, then we split them and we went back to Walkington. Once we took them up to Dalton Park they were there for the summer. Some people put them on the Westwood but we took them to Dalton Park.

We got a uniform — breeches, jumpers, shirts, socks, everything you needed. We got a cape and Wellingtons for wet weather. The farm washed them, when I lived with the old lady. Your khaki overalls used to get really dirty, you had more than one set. I had corded breeches, but also some smart breeches for if you went anywhere.

I had breakfast at the farm after milking, and then lunch at the farm. You could have what you liked in the morning, bacon and eggs or whatever. The main meal, we had all sorts, rabbit pie, roast rabbits, jugged hare, we lived off the best of everything. The other farm was the same. She was an elderly lady but could she bake! They used to have hams hung up on hooks in the kitchen. At tea time you’d get ham, salad, whatever you wanted. Home made apple pies, bramble pies, rasp pies, fruit loaves with cheese. When I was at the old lady’s she used to leave me a cup of cocoa on the stove.

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