Neville John William Day 7 March 1922 - 26 November 1990

	Preface		Dad and the Cranes
	Neville Day The early years		Dad and his duty to the Crown. Including the one on the can!
	Dad's Dad's Army		Dad’s driving lessons (and some)
	Help from Neville’s Father John Day		Dad and the Mercedes G Wagon
	The Day I met Day		Dad, four tonnes of concrete and the gravel tsunami
	Dad and the Coronation		Norfolk is flat (not!)
	Neville Day’s admirable tutoring		No pheasant in here Charles
	Dad promotes me to Chauffeur		You can drive when you're eighty!
	Dad and THE holiday		Dad and the North Sea Gas pipeline
	Dad’s pigs and the Onion Dance		Dad's Butt pricking
	Dad and me and the Farm Fire		Dad’s idyllic office and the end of Neville Day Plant Hire Ltd
	Fluffy dog meets Steam Engine (fluffy no more)		Dad’s little known speech impediment
	Helping Dad with the pruning and tree felling		Dad and the not a Volkswagen
	Neville Day The early years and the final hour		Dad’s wheelies
	Dad and Fairstead		Dad would have laughed!
	Sleeping Policemen		The Good, the Bad and the downright hilarious.

The Good, the Bad and the downright hilarious!

I've mentioned before, my disparate family went through some hard times in the early years. Later quite good, I should add.

We only ever took one holiday in 12 years. Two weeks in Brighton in a guest house with 'Hot and cold running water'. Mostly running down the walls. The rest of the time we just worked.

Despite this one of Dad's great pleasures was driving. That and day trip picnics in the countryside. We could never afford to 'Eat Out'.

Some day trips out were quite ambitious. Wisbech, Cambridgeshire to Buxton, Derbyshire and back in a day for example. A 250 mile round trip. Quite some doing in those austere and pre-motorway days.

Dad always kept us entertained. Dozens of miles from home and.. . "This is the house where Aunt Ivy lived."

Round the next bend. "This is where Aunt Ivy's Dad lived."

On into the next village. "This is where Aunt Ivy's Father lived."

Three children on the back seat just looked at each other, quizzically. We knew better than to demand any explanation.

Mother would change the subject and start a game. Something like "'I Spy with My Little Eye' Stop it Neville!".

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