Tuesday 5th September 1939
No sooner as we went to bed, the air raid siren went off. I don’t think my heart would recover. This is real. I gathered my housecoat slipped my shoes on and headed out into the garden to the Anderson Shelter. Nan came prepared, with biscuits and milk. It’s like she was expecting the rude awakening.
As for myself, I had nothing to my name.
We sat in silence listening to anything over head for any slight noise, nothing. We got the all clear and hour later.
Back to bed at one o’clock in the morning. I’m sure this won’t be the last time I will see that hour.
I was late getting into work this morning, the bus shuddered all the way, cutting out every few hundred yards. Golly I’m tired.
I wasn’t the only one late, poor Norman had his fair shair of events the previous evening. I guess it’s something we need to get used to.
A group of ladies came in today, they sat in the corner of the garden section for over an hour. They looked like they were having a deep conversation about something, a few voices were raised. The weird thing was, I felt their presence before they entered the shop. I always get these feelings, Nan says it part of who I am. Whatever that means. Nan has always been a little different.
We shut up and hour early today. I was glad. I had to get home and go to the church hall. They are organising a charity sale to raise funds for the “War Effort” I’m not sure how thread bare clothing will help. But, I must do my part.
Boiled eggs with toast for supper. Fruit cake and tea. I love fruit cake.
Beryl. X
Rooted In Rations 