Family trees

They're fascinating and very addictive, I've discovered as I have recently taken advantage of the two week trial membership of Ancestry.co.uk and have spent almost every waking hour of the last couple of days delving back into the misty realms of my forebears. One branch leads back to the twelfth century - that would be our Norman connection, then, you know, the Grosveneurs, de Veres and de Leighs. Name dropping? Moi?
It is noticeable how firmly rooted Dad's family is in Cheshire and Mum's in Shropshire, with a few forays into Staffordshire and Worcestershire. Families of ten children were not uncommon and a fair few  were married more than once - no doubt because the poor wives either died in childbirth or were worn out by producing so many children.
I often watch the advert for Ancestry.co.uk and wish that we really could talk to family members through the ages but, in the meantime, I'll carry on with the investigations and a bit of imagination. At least the dining room table is now covered with sheets of family tree, a change for the better from Keith electronics.

Damn those damsons!

For the past few weeks, Keith has been shooting off to his 'other' house, where he is busy converting his latest ambulance into his latest van. This is what it looked like when he bought it, but all the green and yellow has now gone and he and Giles have been working hard on the interior.

His first one evolved gradually, as he discovered, through working in it, how he wanted it to be, so this time, he knows in advance what he wants and where. So, where do the damsons come in? Well, in that garden, there is a damson tree, heavy with damsons at this time of year, and as there are no jam makers in the immediate vicinity, a lot of them end up on the ground.

Are you beginning to see where this is going? In a typical male fashion - i.e. if it's not in front of my face, I don't see it - he spent a week coming home after working on the van and shedding flattened damsons across the living room floor from the soles of his shoes with gay abandon.

I think I might have cured him of the habit now though. Screaming like a demented banshee may have done it!

A Mother's Story: Second anniversary

A Mother's Story: Second anniversary

A Mother's Story: Thank you

A Mother's Story: Thank you

From TK.

The first senior moment!!!

And, that's what happened to the dinosaurs.

Like this one from T.K?

Bad news!!

OH NO!!!
Well, that's visits to Dorset out of the question!

London Riots

Water cannon is what is needed here, I think.