Have you been here too?

Another one from T.K.

Places I Have and Have Not Been I have been in many places, but I've never been in Cahoots. Apparently, you can't go alone. You have to be in Cahoots with someone. I've also never been in Cognito. I hear no one recognises you there. I have, however, been in Sane. They don't have an airport; you have to be driven there. I have made several trips there,  thanks to my friends, family and mostly work. I would like to go to Conclusions, but you have to jump, and I'm not too much on physical activity anymore. I have also been in Doubt. That is a sad place to go, and I try not to visit there too often. I've been in Flexible, but only when it was very important to stand firm. Sometimes I'm in Capable, and I go there more often as I'm getting older. One of my favourite places to be is in Suspense!  It really gets the adrenalin flowing and pumps up the old heart! At my age I need all the stimuli I can get! And, sometimes I think I am in Vincible but life shows me I am not! I have been in Deepshit many times; the older I get,the easier it is to get there.

Paddy's shower

Jenny seemed to be on one of those 'everything has to be clean' moods yesterday. I noticed that Keith stayed out of the way all day, so perhaps he knew something I didn't but, before I knew it, she had enticed me up to the bathroom and into the bath for a shower! She knows I don't like them, but she makes me have them anyway. Eventually, when she thought I was clean, she let me out and tried to dry me with a towel. Then she dragged me into the bedroom, not to roll on the bed, which would have been a sensible way of getting dry, but to undergo the further humiliation of being blown dry with her hairdryer. I tell you, if I'd seen the straighteners appear, I would really have lost it! She must think I'm a wimpy little poodle or something. Doesn't she know that we terrier types are tough and masculine? We don't go in for all that pretty, perfumed fussing. 

Today while we were out for our walk, I could just see the other dogs smirking.
"Ha! Look at him. He's had a bath!"
 I tried to trawl through a few muddy puddles but Jenny was just too quick for me and dragged me away. I'm sure she can read my mind!

Your friendly bank

There are two branches of our bank here in Wrexham. One is in the town, that's the one where there is always a queue and the irritation of those waiting in it is further compounded by the assistant tootling up and down the queue offering to help you pay in your money, cheques etc yourself. One day I shall be barred from there as I make sure I complain about this lack of attention to what customers really want ( ie, to be served quickly) practically every time I go in there.

The other branch is the one on the industrial estate, which Keith patronises. This is the one where I can definitely never show my face. Why? Because this is the one where they have been baking cakes to sell to customers to raise money for charity. Keith stumbled upon this delightful extra service a few weeks ago and, buying up almost everything that was left, complained mournfully that I never allow him to have such lovely things as cakes.

Each time he goes in, he turns on the charm:

"Where's me cake, then?"

Utterly irrisistible, I'm sure you would agree.

So, unable to stand his moaning resist his pleadings any longer, last night one of the poor, long-suffering employees made him a victorian sponge with his name on.

I don't know whether to laugh or cry!

Chez Charles Perkins Sgt.

The middle house in this photo is where my grandmother was born in 1886  and was the home, for a few years, of her parents, Charles Perkins, stationed at the time at Mold Barracks, his wife, Rebecca and their sons. This is Brook Street. Mold, where I went this morning to have a look for myself. Much of the town, of course would now be unrecognisable to them and even the houses round the corner would not have been built at the time they were living there.

By 1907, Charles had retired from the army and the family was settled in Crewe, Cheshire. But that's the next chapter of the story.

Lento

Sent to me today by a friend. A bit long, but worth listening to the end.

A Mother's Story: In the genes

A Mother's Story: In the genes

Perkins again

Further pieces of the jigsaw that is the mystery of Charles Ernest (Frederick) Perkins have been unveiled. After finding evidence of his baptism, under the name of Charles Frederick, I searched again, and again in vain, for the registration of his birth but, although I have searched under every combination of the three names, I have found nothing, which is all the more mysterious as his brothers and sisters were all registered.

During my searching, however, I discovered that his father John, had apparently emigrated to Kansas, USA, followed later by his wife and youngest daughter, Ellen, aka Nellie. I already knew that, in the 1871 census, Frances Perkins and Ellen were living with Frances's son, Frank in Kent, so some time between then and 1880, the two of them decamped to Kansas to join John. By then John and Frances were in their fifties, so it seems a big step for them to take at that stage of their lives.

Some of this information has been further supported by Charles' army papers, which Dad recently found again. 

So, some of the mystery is solved but many questions still remain and probably will never be answered.

Why did Charles appear to change his middle name, which is Frederick on his baptism certificate, Ernest on his death certificate and doesn't appear at all on his marriage certificate or in his army papers?

Why does there appear to be no record of his birth?

Why did John and Frances decide to emigrate to America in their fifties?

Why did Charles fall out with most of his family, including, it seems, his parents? I have first hand information from Dad that he did and this seems to be backed up by the entry for 'parents' address' in his army book, where, having crossed out the earlier address at some time, he has replaced it with a box number in USA.

Maybe we need the services of a medium!