The marriage

So here it is at last, Charles Ernest's marriage certificate and I can see from it that the John Perkins whose family I have been researching lately is indeed the correct one. Trust me, I am on familiar, first name, neighbourly chatting terms with pretty well every John Perkins who has walked this land over the last two hundred years! Next step will be the arrival in about a week of John Perkins' marriage certificate. From the free BMD (births, marriages, deaths) Index, I have narrowed his wife's maiden name down to two possibilities, neither of which put her into 'baronet's daughter' category but, never mind, it's all good fun and quite fascinating.

(I wonder if BBC's 'Heir Hunters' programme would give me a job? 

Cymraig

Today was my first Welsh class, from 8,30 till 10.30am, just nice, as it doesn't break up the day and I feel as if I have done something worthwhile before my first coffee of the day. (We'll gloss over the fact that Keith persuaded me it was in a totally different place to where it actually was, so I was 20 minutes late getting there.)

The other seven people on the course are workers, so it's even more satisfying that I get to go home at the end, whilst they have to rush back to work, but then, they get it paid for and I have to shell out myself, although it is still a good deal. It is an accredited course and you can continue with further levels over six years in total, by which time, I imagine, you could be a worthy candidate for the Eisteddfod.

So, look out for my first post in faultless welsh, folks!

Just don't hold your breath...

Noswaith dda.

(Now I wonder if Paddy will respond any better to commands given in welsh? Yes, OK, ridiculous thought.)

So disappointed!

Having waiting patiently for three whole weeks for the birth certificate of my great grandfather, Charles Ernest Perkins, I got an email yesterday afternoon telling me that they couldn't find one. So that would be why I didn't get anything in the post yesterday then.! So then I went into total disbelief mode and spent half an hour searching through the Free Index of births in an effort to prove them wrong, which I didn't, of course.
Next step was to order his marriage certificate, which should have the name of his father, who is the person I am really trying to track down.
Charles Ernest married a lady from Portland, called Rebecca Sansom Lowman and I know exactly where and when they married, so tracking down the certificate will not take as long this time. However, if his father really did run off with a baronet's daughter, it is quite likely that they didn't actually marry, so I could be up against a brick wall once again.
Well, it keeps me out of mischief, I guess!

An autumn walk

Today being sunny and promising to stay that way for a couple of hours, I decided Paddy and I should put our best foot (paws) forward and high-tail it up to Coedpoeth, a round trip of about five miles. 

'Up' to Coedpoeth is an accurate description of the walk and walking along the narrow pavement beside the high street once we get there is no picnic with Paddy in tow, but we still enjoyed it, although on the way back, Paddy did turn to me with an expression that said, "We have to walk all the way back? YOU CANNOT BE SERIOUS, MAN!"

"Don't worry," I told him, "It's downhill on the way back."

Back home, he is lying there like a coiled spring, ready for action...

Charles Ernest Perkins

This was my paternal great grandfather, an army man and probably the source of many of Hugh's 'awkward' genes and commitment to an army career. Legend has it  in our family, that his father, a humble artisan, stole the heart of the daughter of a baronet, who then ran away with him and was disowned by her family. If she had married someone more acceptable, maybe we would now be living in a big house in London with lots of money, but who knows?

There is a fairly strong chance, however, that this legend is just that, a legend and somewhat lacking in concrete evidence, as during my recent forays into family history, I haven't been able to uncover any reliable clues that this event really happened. So I ordered a copy of C.E. Perkins' birth certificate, three weeks ago from the General Register Office and sat back to wait.
On the site, it says that certificates, unless ordered more expensively for quick delivery, will take three weeks to arrive. Being of an ever-optimistic disposition, I hoped they would be having a quiet period and it would arrive early, but no. I can just imagine them sitting there at their desks, checking their watches and calendars and saying, "Two more days to go before we can send that Perkins one, Alf. Don't you go sending it early, lad. We don't want to be setting prcedents!"
So, my confirmation email informed me that the certificate would be dispatched today, which means that I will get it on Thursday at the earliest. Not exactly Amazon, is it? But I am hoping it will be worth the wait and we will find out the names of C.E. Perkins' parents. Watch this space...

Little England??

I am just watching Little England on ITV1, simply because it's on, I've had a busy and not altogether satisfactory day and haven't got the energy to do anything else, but try as I might, I just can't see the point of emigrating to another country to immerse oneself in British culture, surrounded by many other fellow Brits. If anyone thinks they can, I am waiting to be enlightened!

Brambles!

Today, I have mainly been battling with brambles in this garden. And I have the scars to prove it!