Greendene A Memoir
by
Bob Meecham
My recollections and how I became a studio potter
The Great Storm, final part
The day after the great storm the telephone came back on so that at least we could make contact with the outside world. Mike’s dad came up the lane as far as he could get in the car and we trekked down clambering over the debris and managed to make contact and it was like…
The Devastated Forest
I must have dozed off eventually as the next thing I heard was Mike shouting up the stairs. It was finally morning and thankfully the house still seemed to be in one piece. Mike said “Take a look outside!” Stepping outside, I gasped: where was the brick path which leads up to the house? We…
After the Storm
I was awoken one night by a loud rapid banging and crashing. Initially I tried to ignore it, rolled over and tucked the blankets over my head. After a few more minutes I realised I couldn’t really leave it and curiosity got the better of me and I wearily got up groping for the light.…
Castles and Classes
Life at Greendene settled into a pattern. Weekdays were divided between teaching and pottery making. Weekends were generally quiet as Michael spent a lot of time with Betty. I had the place to myself and found the silence and the seclusion overwhelming at times, profound at others. I took long walks up into the beech…
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