Monthly Archives: January 2024

Up the Garden Path 1

by thehistoryinterpreter

I can’t pretend other than that one of the downsides of the new house is the conglomeration of concrete and sheds that constitute the ‘garden’. In estate agent speak, it is more of a courtyard than a garden, or perhaps we just term it that valuable commodity ‘outside space’. Having left behind what I felt was an attractive cottage garden, a wildlife haven, I was aware that this was a compromise but assured myself that it could be improved. Having gone through some seriously stressful battles with the technology associated with the job I must not mention last year, I steeled myself not to walk away by promising that I would earmark the earnings to be the maximum budget for improvements to the new garden. A lesser known fact about me as that I did complete a garden design course a few years ago, so I am eager to get out the tape measure and graph paper. Caveat – I am not an avid gardener, I like to potter but gardening needs to be your main hobby and it isn’t mine. I do love to be surrounded by plants though, so a garden is a must have. Now the post-plague exhaustion is abating, I can make a start. An added advantage is that, at least today, it is a little warmer and not raining, mind you that’s not set to last.

I thought you might enjoy following along with the garden make-over journey. Here are some pictures of what I am dealing with. A long overgrown shrubbery, an eclectic selection of garden ornaments provided by the previous owner, a lot of concrete, three sheds, a summerhouse in need of tlc and a garage, all set on a very tiny east-facing plot. On the plus side it isn’t overlooked.

You are in at the beginning, as all I have done so far is add a stone seat in a random place (it won’t stay there it is just where the removal men dumped it) and twenty or so pots to those already here; mine mostly contain Mistress Agnes’ herbs. Oh and I’ve planted one white lilac that I bought before Christmas and felt would be happier in the ground.

I have a list of ‘must have’ plants, the challenge will be where to put them. I am also adverse to pulling up existing plants in any great number, although a couple do look seriously deceased and I am aware that I may need to see the seasons round to know what is here already. There does seem to be colour for all seasons, with winter jasmine and three camellias, two of which are coming in to flower. Annoyingly, the sunniest corner of the garden, let’s be honest here, the only bit of garden that gets any sun at all this time of year, is currently occupied by the unsightly tin shed. I am reliably informed it is plastic not tin but it looks like tin and helps me distinguish it from the wooden shed and the blatantly obviously plastic shed. Not wishing to have to sit on the shed roof, the current thinking is that the wooden shed will be humanely disposed of and the ‘tin’ shed moved to take its place. Still not sure how two of us move a six foot square ‘tin’ shed but my unwilling partner in crime is of the opinion that it may come apart. The jury is out on whether or not it will go back together again – watch this space. This could rival the flat-pack furniture building scenario. The other debate is to reinstate some grass, or not to reinstate some grass. I am a fan of grass, both for the smell and the wildlife potential but grass has to be mown. Fine now but going forward this may mean I need help with the garden sooner that I would with a grassless plot. Does this matter? Probably not; decisions decisions.

Rootstech Ramblings – my pick from the live online schedule

by thehistoryinterpreter

So the Rootstech schedule is now available and the excitement is building as we can begin to plan our time for the three days of intensive family history fun from 29 February to 2 March. Do you need to head off to Salt Lake City? – no – although I am sure in-person attendance would be great. Do you need to part with large sums of hard earned cash? Again no, if you are attending virtually, as I am, absolutely free. If you haven’t registered yet you can do so here.

I’ve been trawling the schedule of online talks deciding how to spend my time. It has required tricky choices, as there are often clashes but here is what I’ve decided. Bear in mind that there are plenty of great sessions and because this is not geared to UK time, I have had to forego some presentations that really are in the middle of the night. You can make you own choices here.

These are my decisions, though I reserve the right to change my mind. I’ll be back to tell you about some of them after the event. Thursday first. I am going to kick off at 3pm UK time with Nicholas Dixon’s Metropolitan Ancestors: finding families in Georgian and Victorian London. This complements my own ten minute recorded session that you can view any time London Calling, listing some key online resources for London research. With Smith ancestors in London this one is a must. I’ll follow it with Who is my Ancestor? Tracing individuals with similar names by D Joshua Taylor. Although it is US based, I thought it might be fun. Then an evening session with Diane L Richard Researching Modern Ancestors: unlocking the life of an English Rose, focussing on twentieth century research. This takes me to past my bedtime, so I will call it a night.

Friday next. I thought I’d listen in to the Impact Forum about the impact of family history beyond the genealogy community. I’ve changed my mind several times about the 7pm session but have gone for Reconstructing the Lives of our Female Irish Ancestors by Stephanie O Connell. I don’t have any Irish ancestors of my own, although my grandchildren do but with Forgotten Women in mind, I thought it would be interesting. No choice for what follows as it is my own Marginalised Ancestors talk, so I guess I’d better be there. The talk is written but is a bit too long, so I will need to decide what to leave out. It is going to be a fun talk to do going forward, as I can swap the case studies in and out for variety. Just a heads up. I will be mentioning my Marginalised Ancestors book, which is due to be published on 29 February. At the moment, you can pre-order this at a reduced price from Pen and Sword here. I am not sure if this offer will still be available by 1 March, when I am giving the talk, so if you think you might want the book of the talk, now is the time.

On Saturday I am going for Finding your Common Name Ancestor, with Shaunese Luthy – those Smiths again. Then, with my interest in the history of medicine in mind, Diseases our Ancestors Faced and How those Illnesses Changed our World with Gregory C Gardner. I am going to finish my smorgasbord of in real time talks with Nick Barratt’s Researching English Industrial Labourers.

But there’s more – literally hundreds of recorded talks that I can pick and choose from over the coming weeks. I’ll be back to tell you about my choices from these another time.

Oooh and I’ve just spotted that these delivered live talks will also be available after the event. I’ll definitely be reviewing the schedule and adding more from those that clashed with my choices, or were at less favourable times.

Tales of sorting the garage/sheds and garden will resume shortly – P.S. 190 boxes.

Battling Storms and Other News

by thehistoryinterpreter

Having barely moved from my chair for three weeks, whilst desperately search for my energy and motivation, which have both gone awol post Covid, Sunday was a day to venture out. We’d booked to see a Fisherman’s Friends concert in Torquay, about 70 miles from home. Although driving back after the concert was an option, plan a was to take the caravan down overnight. Site duly booked, all was well until the prospect of Storm Isha loomed. ‘Keep clear of the coast’, they said. The theatre is right on the sea front. ‘Don’t drive unless you have to’, they said. Hmm. Having braved both Storm Agnes and Storm Gerrit with the caravan this season, the decision was made to think of a plan b. Driving back along country roads in the dark at the height of the storm wasn’t it. Because it was a last minute booking, we managed to secure a budget motel room at little more than the cost of the caravan site. This seemed like a win so far.

With wind freshening, we set off on Sunday afternoon. We even avoided the learning curve of struggling with the accommodation’s parking app, as there was a space in the road, which had the added advantage of being free. Next, a drive down to the seafront car park that is fairly close to the theatre and not too far from where we’d booked to eat. ‘Not too far’ when there’s a 70mph wind and rain is actually quite a long way. I know from my handy not actually very fit watch that it is 1100 steps, about half a mile. Still, getting as far as the restaurant wasn’t too bad, considering my step count had averaged under 300 a day for the last three weeks. The only casualty so far was my feet. I’d gone for comfortable shoes, which, it seems, have holes in the soles as I was now squelching along nicely.

Meal eaten, it was time for the return walk paddle to the theatre. We waited for a heavy hail shower to pass and set off in what was a light drizzle. As a bonus, the wind was behind us to begin with. Optimistically, I was heard to mutter, ‘I don’t want to speak too soon but this isn’t too bad.’ Dear reader, I spoke to soon. About half way along the sea front, with wind crashing in the masts of the moored yachts and Torquay’s palm trees struggling to stay upright, we turned a corner just as driving hail hit us straight in the face. We could see the theatre up ahead, we knew we were walking towards it but somehow it didn’t seem to get any nearer. By the time we reached it, everything from neck up and knees down was as if I’d been plunged in a bucket of water. I was also really noticing how I so hadn’t recovered from Covid. I went to ineffectively attempt to dry my hair under the hand dryer. Not helped by the fact that it cut out automatically after about five seconds. What was really weird was that people who arrived moments before and after us seemed to be completely dry. Women with beautifully coiffured hair surrounded my drowned rat look at every turn as we crowded into the foyer. The rain hadn’t stopped, how had they kept so dry? I’ll admit, the wait to be let in to the auditorium and thus gain access to the ability to sit down, was a struggle. Upright is not a position I’ve encountered much lately, especially not after fighting against wind and rain.

We gradually got our breath back and steamed our way through an excellent concert. Then it was back out into the elements to the car park. I sat dripping in the car whilst my brave companion queued in the rain to pay. We were very thankful to have a few minutes’ drive to the hotel, rather than best part of two hours to home.

Next up, breakfast. We’d opted not to pay £9.95 each for an all you can eat breakfast that we didn’t actually want. I am though really bad at missing some kind of breakfast. Not to worry, we had brought the ingredients with us. Granola, formerly frozen berries and yoghurt awaited. What, in our hurried change of plans, we’d neglected to do, is remember that a bowl and spoon would have been a good idea. We managed to improvise by using one of the ingredients’ containers as a bowl and appropriating the room’s tea spoon. Then it was time to return home, in conditions that were much calmer than the night before. Now we await storm Jocelyn.

In other news, box emptying is awaiting more energy and slightly warmer weather, as I am on to the rooms in the garage and the sheds now. Current total of emptied boxes is 189 and we are not quite done yet. I was also challenged to count my books. Despite several serious culls, 1145 remain, with the children’s books still to be counted. The next challenge is trying to fix heavy shelves to a cavity wall. This is not going to be easy folks.

Some fruits of research that I did last year can now be revealed. Back in the summer, I was contacted by a BBC researcher, in conjunction with Lucy Worsley’s Lady Killers podcast, which was due to feature a local murder. Could I identify the property involved in the story? With help from a friend, I located the ruins of said property and was able to report back to the production team, along with providing other information to help with the local background. I am not sure this quite came across in the finished episode but I did get an honourable mention. You can listen to Sarah Bird’s story here.

Flatpack Furniture, House-moving Hazards and Plague

by thehistoryinterpreter

I’ve now been moved in for two and a half weeks but six days of that was spent visiting family. Office and books sorted – tick. Kitchen cupboards sorted – tick. Sideboard purchased – tick. The grand box unpacking total stands at 159. The low hanging fruit has definitely been picked in this regard and I am left with a couple of boxes of total randomness and the garage. Let’s just draw a veil over the garage. There is also quite a bit of ‘stuff’ that is still off site. It has also been ****ing down with rain every day I’ve been here, so not conducive to trying to sort out the garage, which will probably need a total excavation in order to work out what’s what. I still don’t know what my home looks like in the dry.

I have investigated the welcome box left my the estate agents. It contained an eclectic assortment including, his and hers deodorant, a face mask, a tin of cider, a washing pod, a tumble drier sheet (I don’t have a tumble drier), Margerita soda, some in wash scent booster and alcohol free beer. I guess it was whatever they could get free samples of.

It seems that moving house comes with unforeseen hazards. You’ve missed the bit where I was sporting two black eyes, thanks to being head butted by my assistant when loading boxes of geraniums into the summer house. This added to the falling valance pole related injury and the head meets TV ariel encounter in the loft. Then there is the flat pack furniture. If I was married this would be grounds for divorce and I have had to promise never to order flatpack furniture again, not, based on recent experience, that that would be likely. Construction of said flatpack furniture has not been aided by the fact that one of my holiday gifts from my family was Covid. I guess I’ve been lucky to escape it for four years but now I ache everywhere it is possible to ache and then some but I digress. I left behind built-in bedroom furniture so my clothes are currently in bags and boxes and I had ordered replacements. The bedside tables arrived before we went away. They did have the advantage of being small but the ‘ten minutes to assemble’ bore no relation to the actual time taken. The assumption is that no one assembling flatpack furniture can read, so there are no written instructions, just rather vague illustrations and pieces that are supposed to be numbered but in some cases aren’t so you have to guess which piece 14 actually is.

After the efforts with the bedside tables I was having serious qualms about the wardrobe, not least because the rooms are quite small and I wasn’t sure where there was space for it to be built. We began, not without a certain, understandable, amount of grumbling, to assemble it on the bed. This was not without incident as we tried to work out which way was up. By this time, I was regretting my decision to go for flatpack almost as much as my companion, who, I must record, has been an absolute hero. Then came the point where we had to transfer construction to the floor, with the wardrobe lying face down, filling every available bit of floor space. The completed wardrobe weighs over 80kg. Even without its top, doors and back that is still a considerable weight for my valiant assistant of a certain age and a plague ridden me to raise from lying on the floor to upright. If you’ve ever seen World’s Strongest Man and Fingal’s Fingers (if not Google it) that was pretty much how it went. I do now have an upright wardrobe awaiting top, back and doors. I am just wondering when would be a good time to mention the errr flatpack chest of drawers and two bathroom cupboards that are due to arrive today.