I am now in my second trimester. No, this is not some miracle of science; semesters, or terms, are called trimesters in Ireland. Having somehow achieved pleasing grades for my first two assignments (that probably is a miracle of science), I am raring to go, This module is called ‘Thinking about Things’, or as the southern Irish call it, ‘Tinking about Tings’. It certainly makes you think. Thing Theory involves many abstract concepts and has overlaps with philosophy (I think). I made the mistake of beginning the reading with a book that is either incredibly erudite or total garbage (the jury is still out). I thought I liked long words and complex sentences but I am clearly a mere beginner. The average sentence length in this worthy tome is about forty words. Counting the length of the sentences is probably about as good as it gets. I always thought that the definition of a sentence was that it made sense. I may have to revise that definition. Although I understood most of the words individually, my brain was getting little sense out of them collectively. I did wade my way diligently through to chapter six, which was almost comprehensible but I was thankful to get to the end. This academically expensive treatise may be finding its way onto an online auction site near you shortly. I was going to treat you to a gem from this book but out of respect for the author, I have decided not to. Believe me, anyone who can persuade a publisher to take on this manuscript deserves utmost respect. Pretty much the sum total of what I got from ploughing through all 173 pages (very slowly, I really couldn’t take more than one chapter at a time) was that the essence of a thing is altered by the interaction of humans with it (possibly). Hopefully all will become clearer when tutorials start next week, having been delayed a week by COVID.
Image by Pixabay
On a positive note, I have since read some much more interesting and intelligible articles and I think I am going to enjoy this module, especially as the assignment options are very broad. I am very excited about how I might develop this and I am hoping that there will be some overlap with the rest if my life this time. I definitely do want to use this course to move outside of my comfort zone and last term’s assignments certainly did that but the more I read the more I see how what I am learning might be applied to family heirlooms and photographs. There are definite commonalities with one of the sessions, Family Photographs and a Sense of Belonging, that I have prepared for Rootstech. Incidentally, you can register for Rootstech free of charge and listen to as many sessions as you like, mine included. The event takes place from 3-5 March but recordings will be available after those dates as well.
In the meaning time, I’ve been engaged in an experimental archaeology project entitled, ‘What is it like to live in a seventeenth century cottage without the benefit of central heating?’ This was a result of the failure of the oil delivery company to be able to count. They are supposed to top up the tank every three months in winter. They last came in June and claimed that the next visit was due in February. I am still working out how that constitutes three months. Anyway, after 2½ days, the experiment was beginning to lose its appeal, despite the benefits of the wood-burner. Fortunately, the cavalry arrived today and I am now cosy again.
The #GenealogyForAll debate has turned to genealogical conferences and the fact that there are barriers to accessing most of these. Although the primary obstacle is deemed to be financial, this is not the only issue. Let us look first at cost. I have been instrumental in organising many family history events, both day conferences and residential conferences. I have also been heavily involved in the provision of online events. None of the events that I have helped to put on have intended to make a profit, merely to break even. Having been in circumstances where my ability to fund my family history research was severely limited, I have always been an advocate of keeping costs to participants as low as possible.
So what costs money? Let’s look at a weekend face-to-face conference. Accommodation is the biggest outlay. Cost is impacted on by the geographical convenience of the location and the facilities provided. A reasonable standard of food and accommodation is expected and the conference facilities need to be suitable, with good AV and wifi connections. A more recent consideration might be the ability to live stream the proceedings. All this is extremely costly and these charges are set to increase as inflation seems to be rapidly spiralling ever upwards at the moment. It would certainly not be unusual to be charged a four-figure daily sum for the hire of conference facilities in a central location and food and accommodation would be on top of that. More minor items on the conference organisers’ budget might include the printing of conference programmes, advertising and perhaps the provision of conference give-aways. Even the cost of conference badges has to be considered. If the conference is a commercial undertaking, which is rare in the genealogical world, there a profit margin will be added.
You may notice that the major omission in the previous paragraph is the cost of speakers. I declare an interest here. I am a speaker. When I first started teaching family history in the 1980s, when money was extremely limited in my household, I planned that what I earned would pay for the cost of my own research. I speak because I enjoy it and because I want to share my expertise but it is also a major part of the way in which I support myself. I consider that I give a professional service and that I and others like me, should receive financial recompense for this. It is a job. The fact that I happen to enjoy my job and that it overlaps with my hobby is irrelevant. For more than forty years I have done and continue to do, a great deal for the genealogical community on a voluntary basis but if I am asked to give a talk I would normally and justifiably, expect to be paid. I do occasionally speak for free for charities that I support, or for causes that I believe in and of course any talks I give for societies of which I am a trustee have to be delivered without payment.
I once organised a residential conference and a potential attendee asked if they could attend for free if they didn’t stay and didn’t want any meals; all they wanted was to listen to the talks. I gently explained that meals and accommodation were not the only costs and that speakers’ fees and travelling expenses were a significant part of the conference fee that we were charging. On that occasion, we were offering anyone who volunteered to help chair or steward a session, free attendance at that particular lecture and this is what I offered. I absolutely believe that speakers should be properly paid and not just because I am one. Like many aspects of the creative industries, working for ‘the exposure’ is not something that should be expected or tolerated. I cannot pay my bills with exposures. Some speakers, myself included, will occasionally offer to be paid in kind, giving a talk in exchange for free attendance at the remaining lectures that form the event but this should not be expected nor regarded as the norm.
Sometimes, people look at a speaker’s charges and the reaction is, ‘that’s a lot for an hour’s work’. Giving a talk of an hour’s duration is absolutely not an hour’s work. The talk has to be researched and the presentation put together, which could easily take several days. A good speaker will always run through a talk beforehand, every time that they give it. Handouts have to be checked to ensure that information is current and links are not broken. There is also the time taken to travel to a conference to be taken into consideration.
Most genealogy speakers are in fact quite poorly paid compared to speakers in other fields. I was once invited to join a list of public speakers who covered a full range of topics. I was told that I was charging far too little, I wouldn’t be taken seriously if that was all I asked for and that I needed to make my fee at least twice as much. I explained that I knew my market and the sum suggested would be prohibitive for my potential audience. I was put on that list (now discontinued) at my requested rate and only ever got one speaker request as a result.
Online conferences can often be staged with fewer overheads. Here an element of the cost is the platform through which the conference is delivered. This can be achieved via something like Zoom, relatively cheaply but if you require anything more sophisticated, such as you might expect at major events, then the web-development charges are significant. Even at a simple online event, there are still speaker fees to be paid, although you save on travel costs.
I know that the costs of conference attendance are prohibitive for many. By the time you add on travel to a venue, the cost of a weekend face-to-face conference is approaching that of a week’s package holiday to a foreign destination for a UK resident. One way to help to make these events more affordable, is to offer a day delegate rate. This is an option that I often go for, staying in a touring caravan to reduce the expense. It does mean that I miss out on some of the social experience but at least I can attend. I am fortunate, this is affordable for me but it won’t be for others. The ‘going’ day attendee rate at genealogy conferences seems to be about £75. Yes, this includes lunch but it is still far more than many can justify.
Of course, we should accept that having a hobby costs money and that little in life is free but that doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t take steps to mitigate matters for those whose participation is limited by the cost of events.
So what is the solution? I am not sure that I know. Some organisations have the wherewithal to provide free virtual conferences, of which RootsTech in March is a prime example and incidentally well worth registering for. Anyone who has ever complained that conferences are too expensive should take the opportunity to attend this one. You have access to the presentations long after the duration of the event. In general though, this is not a viable economic model. Although many genealogical societies are charities, it does not mean that they can afford to stage major events at no charge to participants. What most societies do do, is offer a comprehensive programme of lectures to members, many of which are now presented online. A year’s membership fee of £20 or less might be much less prohibitive than a conference fee and of course society membership offers far more benefits than just the lecture programme. Some societies allow non-members to attend their lectures without charge. It is definitely worth looking at the societies that cover your areas of interest to see if this is the case.
Perhaps an option might be sponsorship, although sponsorship is harder to come by than it used to be and securing it is a time-consuming and thankless task. This could be sponsorship of a whole conference, a lecture, or perhaps sponsorship of an attendee. Maybe local societies could offer a number of free places at an otherwise paid for event, to those who find cost a barrier. How those free places were allocated would be up to the event organiser.
Cost is not the only impediment. Geographical access to face-to-face events is an issue. Caring responsibilities also prevent people from attending, as does disability access. On balance, it seems that there are fewer barriers to participating in an online event but for some the availability of adequate wifi, or the lack of a device will prevent them joining in. Another barrier, which is a whole topic in itself, is how welcoming these events are. There are those who find attending such events a social challenge, for a variety of reasons. We need to make potential attendees feel comfortable about being part of an event.
It will never be perfect. Nothing can ever be fully accessible to all in every respect. There will always be events that are inaccessible. Nonetheless, we can and should do what we can to be more inclusive, to offer a variety, so that there may be something that suits and to open up the opportunity to attend genealogy events to as many people as possible.
It is hardly news that this week the genealogy community, or at least those who have C20th English and Welsh ancestry, have been revelling in the release of the 1921 census. I thought I’d share a few of my initial thoughts. Before I do, I can’t ignore the debate that has roused passions on both sides and that is the issue of the charges for access. This is the sort of post that you really need to read to the end, or at least part way, to understand the argument. I’ll tell you when you can stop!
FindmyPast won the contract to undertake the not inconsiderable task of digitising the records, so that those of us who can read this can potentially view these from the comfort of our own homes. In order to recoup the costs of digitisation, transcribing and indexing, there is currently a charge for access. Without indexing and transcribing, you would have to guess where your ancestor was living and work your way through the district page by page in the hope of finding them. Anyone who researched in the 1970s and 1980s can vouch for how long this took and how often it was unsuccessful because great granny wasn’t where you expected her to be. In recent decades, we have come to expect that we will have the benefit of online countrywide indexes, transcription errors notwithstanding.
It is important to make it clear that, contrary to popular opinion, searching the 1921 census index is free. You do NOT need a FindmyPast subscription for this. So, there is some limited work you can do without any cost. Once you have located someone in the index, there is a charge for each transcription or image of a page that is viewed. These cost £2.50 and £3.50 respectively, although those with the higher level of FindmyPast subscription get a 10% discount. If this follows the pattern of previous dataset releases, after a period of months, accessing the 1921 census will be absorbed into the FindmyPast subscription charge and when the exclusivity period expires, it will be available on other subscription platforms as well.
Unlike previous releases, this time, there has been a significant amount of disquiet regarding charging to view a public document. So where do I stand on this? First some facts. To those who say, ‘but it is volunteers who do the transcribing’, not in this case. The 1921 census has not been digitised, transcribed or indexed by volunteers. It is a project on a massive scale and the logistics of trying to make it available on a countrywide basis by voluntary effort would have been close to insurmountable. I’ve been around long enough to remember the work required producing indexes to the 1851 and 1881 censuses. In any case, most family history societies who undertake voluntary transcribing projects charge for access to these in some way, either by a direct charge, or by making them available only to those who pay the society’s subscription. This provides valuable funds that are ploughed back, to the benefit of family historians.
To those who say, ‘1921 census access should be free’, in some ways it is. There is no charge to view if you have access to The National Archives, Manchester Central Library or the National Library of Wales. The charge is not for access to the record itself but to the digitised images, so in effect the payment is for the convenience of home viewing. Of course, visiting one of the free access points is not possible, practical or affordable for many. Travel to London, Manchester or Aberystwyth for me would involve a two-night stay and with travel costs would be the same as downloading approximately 75 1921 images, assuming I stayed in the caravan. I will not be doing this but I am fortunate, my financial position, my health, my geographical location and my home responsibilities mean that I could visit one of these centres if I chose to. For many that is not an option.
One side of the argument is that we should accept that digitisation is not something that can be achieved for free, the heavy financial investment has to be recouped and the 1921 census is now available to anyone with internet access, or who can get internet access at a library, for the cost of a good cup of coffee or a pint of beer per image. The #FreetheCensus counter argument is that, as a public document, the 1921 census should be freely available to the public and that the current charges are prohibitive for some and thus counter to the #GenealogyforAll ethos.
Although I am better placed now, I began my family history at a time when financial pressures impinged heavily on my ability to research as I would have wished. That doesn’t make it okay, I am just saying that I understand. I am passionate about making family history accessible to as many people as possible, be the barriers financial, geographical, age related, due to a disability, or anything else you can name but there is a BUT. My own view is that there will always be a cost implication associated with researching your family history. If you think you don’t spend anything, think again. At a minimum, you will be paying for internet access or for your phone contract and for the electricity to run and charge these devices. Even if you don’t use technology and you interview granny who lives with you (no travel costs), you need to purchase a writing implement and something to write on. If you can read this, you are already at an advantage over others because you can access the internet, with all that has to offer to help you in your research. In an ideal world it would be an equal playing field and it would all be free, I really wish it was but economic forces just don’t work that way. The best we can do is to try to level that playing field as much as possible, to work together to help and support each other and to keep costs as low as we can.
I am mindful that there are those who are, at the moment, excluded from viewing the 1921 census because of the charge and in one sense I am one of them. I have wider interests than my own immediate family. I would love to be able to access the returns for the communities for which I conduct one place-studies (all four places!) and for all those in my one-name study. I want to look at the entries for unrelated people whose lives impinged on those of my family. I certainly can’t afford to do all this within my family history budget. So, I agree, this is not #GenealogyforAll but I would add one word – yet. It is very difficult to be patient when genealogy social media is full of ‘look what I found in the 1921 census’ but patience is what is required. In time, no time-scale has been announced but my bet (based on zero insider-knowledge) is on six months, access will become part of a FindmyPast subscription and therefore freely accessible via library subscriptions. For those whose libraries only have Ancestry access, the wait will be longer; I believe about three years.
What we have is not ideal and I’ll admit to a sharp intake of breath, coupled with disappointment, when the charges were announced. The current access does allow those whose barrier is geography, disability or family responsibility to do their research and that is a sizeable community, who in the past might have been excluded. In time, those for whom the barrier is financial will also be included. I wish that was now, I really do but I just don’t see how online, countrywide, transcribed and indexed access could be achieved without cost. It seems fairest to recoup that cost from those who are interested in seeing the records. I suppose an alternative would be for this to be government funded and make all taxpayers contribute. Despite what family historians might think, the general public would hardly see this as priority when the country is struggling to fund health and social care and education. The bottom line is, in an unfair and unideal world, whilst not fully inclusive, this is as good as we could hope for. If that makes me sound as if I am resigned to the inevitable and not ready to fight for greater inclusivity, that couldn’t be further from the case. Passion for change does have to be tempered with practicality and at least a small dose of realism. You can stop reading now, unless you want to know what I’ve been up to within my limited 1921 download budget.
Now to the post I was actually going to write. In the three days of 1921 census access, I have only had time for a brief play, having listened to the world’s first live official FindmyPast presentation on using the census at 7am on Friday morning! I do recommend doing some background work before leaping in. The help pages and various videos and blogs that are available, really are worth reading. Look out for a FindmyPast presentation from your local family history society, many will be hosting these in the coming weeks. I made a list of all my direct ancestors who were alive in 1921. There were ten: one parent, four grandparents and five great grandparents. I wasn’t expecting any amazing breakthroughs from the 1921 census, as I already have full birth, marriage and death details for all of these ancestors but I was interested in the additional detail.
I belong to a lovely online group of genealogy friends and we have decided to begin the year by gathering the life stories of one of our grandmothers, so ‘Granny’ was first on the list and easily found in the index, together with her mother and brother. I purchased the image and brought up the filmstrip allowing me to access, for no additional charge, the ‘extra materials’, which included the page providing the address and a useful map. It is a shame that the useful ‘enumerator’s book lists’ from 1911 were destroyed in 1921. Of particular interest to me was the name of the employer, in Granny’s case ‘J. Gardner & co. wholesale caterer etc.’, where she worked as a clerk. The address of the employer, Leadenhall Market, was also given. This confirmed my mother’s memory that Granny had worked for ‘John Gardner & co. at Smithfield’ – wrong market mum but close! The more specific detail has allowed me to identify this company, subsequently taken over by Trust House Forte. The family photograph collection includes pictures of Granny with colleagues named ‘Reidy’ and ‘Carlie’. I can freely search the 1921 census by employer using the advanced search. This brought up 340 entries of people living in London, Middlesex, Surrey or Kent who stated there employer to be J Gardner. Without purchasing the images, it was difficult to be certain the employer was the same J Gardner but I did find a twenty-two year old Elizabeth Reid on the list, who is a candidate for ‘Reidy’. I tried Car* in the first and last name boxes but there were no likely entries for ‘Carlie’, who in any case may not still have been working there in 1921.
Reidy and Carlie
Next up, Granny’s future husband. With a name like Frederick Smith, a little more care was needed before parting with cash. Hoping that he was still with his parents, I by-passed Frederick Smith and tried great grandad instead as he had more unusual forenames and fortunately he was listed with both of them. I was able to hover over the transcription button in the index to check who else was in the household before purchasing the image. That ticked off Herbert Havet Smith, his wife and grandad Fred. The surprise here was that they had already left London and were living in Southend-on-Sea, with grandad commuting to his office in London. Again, it was an employer I recognised; my mother followed in her father’s footsteps and was still working part time from home for the company in the early 1960s.
My father, his parents and two brothers, with the benefit of an unusual name, were also easily found. There are only two people, of any age, with my father’s name in the 1921 census. Co-incidentally the other lived a few hundred yards from my home address, more than 250 miles away from my father. I knew that my father grew up in poverty but it was still a shock to see all five of them living in just two rooms.
Two more great grandparents to find. John Hogg in Morpeth was no trouble, He was living with his ‘widowed’ (she was never married) sister, her adult son and two male lodgers, in three rooms. I can’t imagine what the sleeping arrangements would have been. The final great-grandparent was trickier. In the end I found her by searching for her son. Inexplicably searching for Fanny Thomasine, WITH the variants box ticked, did not bring her up; she had been mis-transcribed as Fanny Homasine. Her writing was pretty awful – maybe I can claim it is genetic! In fairness to great granny, the census was taken just a week before she died; she was described as ‘unable to work’.
I have decided that my children’s direct ancestors can wait until the 1921 census forms part of my subscription, so five households was my limit. I would have paid for great great aunt Fanny if I could have found her. She was in the county asylum, which I also failed to find. I did have a quick look at my home village in the index, using the place search. There do seem to have been some large scale garbling of the house names in my parish. In addition, somehow the parish seems to have become attached to the neighbouring one, in a run-together version of the names. There will be some wholesale correction sending when I can access these via my subscription. I have heard others report that there are some weird and wonderful place name errors, with towns being ascribed to incorrect counties but I gather that this is being worked on.
So overall a positive experience and I am happy to wait for more extensive access. When it really will be the 1921 census for all.
It has been all go on the Experimental Archaeology front. Assignment two is pretty much done. It was already way too long when I came across a key article. Said article turned out to be 247 pages of great stuff – now, what to cut out?
I thought I’d grabbed a bargain and got a really interesting sounding book, which usually retails for £180+, for £30. You know that ‘If it sounds too good to be true …..’ thing? Sadly, when it arrived I realised that instead of the hugely expensive Handbook of Sensory Archaeology, I had inadvertently ordered a Handbook of Collective Intentionality – not a clue – Sensory Archaeology was going to be challenging enough. If anyone wants to find out about Collective Intentionality there will be a copy for sale on an internet auction site near you shortly.
The real excitement though is that I skipped this week’s lecture to take part in some experiential, if not experimental, archaeology. A fisherman (and boat restorer) of my acquaintance and I set off at silly o’clock to watch the sunrise over Bodmin Moor and drive to the National Maritime Museum in Falmouth for a Ghost Ship Building workshop. Regular readers will know that I’ve been steering clear of peopley places. This is only the fourth time I’ve been indoors with a static group of people apart from my immediate family since February 2020 but it was so worth it. I was also taking comfort from the fact that there were only eleven mask-wearing people in the room and I am probably as protected as I will ever be, having just been boostered.
The hugely talented Gail McGarva, who was conducting the Disappearing Lines workshop, builds traditional working boats, to try to preserve historic local boat-building styles. She uses the term ‘daughter ships’, rather than replicas, as they represent a new generation of the endangered boats. I am familiar with the Clovelly Picarooners and the neighbouring Bucks Ledge Boats, both of which were designed to suit the beach from which they were worked. The ghost ship we were to build was based on the Dorset Lerret, a beamy boat, ideal for working on the pebbles of Chesil Beach.
The ‘one I made earlier’ looked pretty simple, surely this wasn’t going to take six hours? Oh it so was. First, we steamed and bent oak strips and laid them in place in a pre-prepared frame. I learned that making even quite thin strips of wood do what you want them to is not easy. Then came the copper riveting. This involved my partner in crime holding the oak strips steady and me drilling very close to his fingers. I waited until afterwards to tell him I’d never used an electric drill before. I am not sure why; spending most of my life in all female households, I’ve done DIY since I was a child but only ever with a hand drill.
Next, time to insert the rivets. There were only thirteen of them, plus the few that had to be redone because they bent but each one involved plenty of hammering. You have to drive through the rivet and then seal it with a series of taps. This was all fine at the time but two days later my arm still feels like it has just had a Covid vaccination. I have decided against a change of career. I do not want to be a riveter and historically, I can see that the repetitive strain and the noise would have been serious occupational hazards. It is inciteful to try these things to gain a better understanding of what is involved.
In between the riveting there was plenty of adjusting, to create pleasing lines. At one stage I was channelling my Norfolk ancestry and my gunnels developed what is apparently known as a Yarmouth Hump. I managed to minimise this and I am pleased with my resulting ghost ship, although I am not quite sure what I am going to do with it. All in all, this rates right up there with the best things I’ve done this year.
I would like to thank all those who have now listened to my Really Useful Show presentation about making the family history world welcoming for all. There was a mammoth audience at the live presentation and plenty of people have tuned in since. I think you have one more day to catch the recording, if you have a Really Useful Show ticket. The opportunity for discussion afterwards was limited, so there will be an open forum on this topic on Saturday 27th November at 10.30am UK time. I know this isn’t great for those of you in North America but we didn’t want to leave this too long and I don’t have a single evening or weekend afternoon free until mid-December. I am in the midst of a presentations marathon, at one point I did four in twenty-six hours and I am currently running at twelve a week. I do also have other things in my diary! The good news is, that other ‘next generation’ debates are being held and I have been asked to give this presentation again on two futher occasions. Saturday will be about exchanging ideas, not about me talking. If you want to come along, just contact me via the box on the Home Page for the link. If you are not able to listen to the original presentation, then you might like to look at the handout instead.
Having thought that I had had a record audience for the Really Useful Show, I topped that this week when a Norfolk FHS meeting, at which I was speaking, also had Devon FHS attendees. A whopping 385 people Zoomed in!
This week also brought the demise of a memory stick. Even the magicians at my local computer shop have failed to extract data from it. Yes, it is backed up elsewhere but I was due to back up again, so there are recent files that will be lost and gone for ever. I do put some things in the cloud but not everything. Now I’m about to take a deep breath and see how much I can retrieve from elsewhere.
In other news, I am not sure if I should congratulate a large electrical store near pretty much everyone or not. After three years and eleven months and numerous letters, emails and social media rants, I have finally received a gift card with a refund to which I was entitled. Mind you, I haven’t tried to spend it yet (there may only be 2p on it) and actually I am pretty reluctant to darken their doors again but fingers crossed that this is finally resolved.
In other exciting news, I have been approached to write another family history text book. This won’t be happening until my course is over but hoping for a 2023 publication date.
And just because no pictures go with this post, here is a gratuitous sunrise for you.
As part of the Family History Federation’s Really Useful Show tonight, 12 November, I will be giving a talk on the crucial topic ‘Genealogy: the Next Generation’. This is a live only talk, which will take place at 7.30pm. I set out some of my thoughts on this topic in a previous post and I would encourage you to take a look at this. I had intended that today’s session would be a short presentation, followed by a discussion but unfortunately, the show platform does not lend itself to the level of discussion that this topic deserves. There is also a limited number of places, so some potential attendees may be disappointed. The Friday evening will offer some thoughts and suggestions on the topic, as well as providing some discussion points. The handout for the topic is here. To provide the opportunity for open discussion, there will be a Zoom meeting on this important topic, on Saturday 27th November at 10.30am GMT. This meeting will have the potential for 500 attendees; the discussion will be in small groups. To be sent the log in details for the 27th November meeting, please contact me using the contact box on the home page.
‘So, what’s the latest on the experimental archaeology front?’ I hear you cry. I’ve still not grasped the nettle and tried making stinging nettle string (see what I did there?). Plenty more reading about boat archaeology though, plus trying not to dwell on the impending feedback on the first assignment. I had to miss one of my tutorials when I was away, so was watching the recording. The Irish accents play even more havoc than usual with the subtitling, which has an entertainment value all of its own. Who knew that Medieval Ireland had a camel based economy? ‘Smell fairies’, was an interesting response to a question about average iron smelting times.
Each week we get a ‘what’s on at the university this week’ email. This is frustrating because there is a plethora of fascinating sounding activities that I am too far away to access. A couple of weeks ago, we were exhorted to attend Sexual Health and Guidance week. This series of events is referred to by its acronym – I’ll give you a moment to think about that. You have to commend them for attention grabbing marketing. As the email said, “this is sure to be a fun-filled and informative week.”
I was chuffed to find a second-hand copy of a book I needed for £3.84, when most copies were £20+. The downside is that the estimated delivery date is the day before my assignment is due. In theory it has already been dispatched from within the UK, no idea why this means it will be a month before I get it. Are they perhaps sending it by a particularly circuitous route? Are they employing super-slow carrier pigeons? Time will tell. The book has 250 or so pages. I will have twenty four hours to read it – good job I can speed read. Whilst looking for a copy of this book I got one of those ‘you may be interested in this’, emails. I always give a wry smile when these recommendations are my own books. In this case it was a series of manuscript volumes, which did indeed sound interesting but were priced at £128,068.55. Might give that a miss.
I am desperately trying to work out how best to be in Ireland in March for a week of real life experimental archaeology fun. We had a month long trip to Ireland planned for May 2020. No prizes for guessing why that didn’t happen. I don’t have a whole month free in March and anyway I am not convinced that March is the best time of year to explore Ireland. Options are being considered. Do we go twice, taking the caravan, which will give me somewhere to stay, albeit a bit further from the university than is ideal? Do I fly out on my own in March just for the week? Not sure ‘on my own’ appeals. It may depend on whether or not caravan sites are going to be open that early in the year.
I also need to say that this wonderful course that I am doing is now accepting applications for the next academic year. It really is great fun and the assessment side is comparatively ‘gentle’. Although archaeology conjours up visions of ancient civilizations and there is an element of that, there are opportunities to look at more recent manifestations of material culture (that’s ‘things’ to you and me). All my family historian friends out there, do take a look. I’m enjoying this course so much. You can really begin to understand about the homes your ancestors lived in, the boats that they sailed, the clothes that they wore and the artefacts that they made or owned. It is all online and open to students across the world. Even better, if you are looking for a face-to-face university course, or know any young people who are keen on studying the past, there are in-person undergraduate and post-graduate opportunities available in the same department. If I had the wherewithal to spend a year in Ireland, I’d be up for that. Sadly, this wasn’t an option when I was looking for undergraduate university courses.
So today is All Hallows Eve. Amidst all the pumpkin carving and tricking and treating, I would like to think about all those who lost their lives and in some parts of the world, are still losing their lives, due to accusations of witchcraft. For the most part, these were unfortunate women (and a few men), often elderly and on the margins of society, who fell foul of the prejudices and intolerance of their neighbours. Sadly, it seems to be human nature to be wary of difference. Is this because we can only cope with threat if we believe it to come from someone ‘not like us’? Are threats are harder to bear if we feel that they come from within our own circle, whether that be geographical, racial or social? My fascination with human behaviour and the history of the marginalised, naturally led me to take a detailed look at witchcraft accusations. A general study for the chapter in Coffers, Clysters, Comfrey and Coifs led to my talk The Burning Time. The parallels between witchcraft accusations and modern bullying are powerful and to highlight these I chose to weave the story that became my novel Sins as Red as Scarlet, setting the true story of witchcraft accusations in Bideford against a strand set in 2020. As I tried to make sense of why three women from Bideford were put to death in 1682, I quickly realised that the seeds of this tragedy had roots that stretched back decades. Whilst on the subject of Sins as Red as Scarlet, I’d like to thank Hidden Branch for this lovely review. It is gratifying to realise that readers understand where I was heading with the book.
So, as you don your witch’s hat, please think about those in your own family history, or from your home area who might have suffered persecution in the past. Apart from the six women who are mentioned in my novel, to give them their real names Temperance Lloyd, Susanna Edwards, Mary Trembles, Elizabeth Caddy, Mary Beare and Grace Elliott, there are others I will be remembering. Not least is Joane Elford, acquitted of ‘laming and pining’ Alice Paynter in 1671. She is almost certainly the sister of my 9 times great-grandfather Peter Elford. I tell the story of the Elford family here but there are very few details available about Joane.
If you want to read Sins as Red as Scarlet, it is available on line but as usual, if you are in the UK, I urge you to come directly to me, to my publisher Blue Poppy Publishing or to your nearest independent bookshop. Happy Halloween.
Well assignment one is submitted, not without incident owing to the rat-induced wifilessness and with thoughts turning to assignment two I am immersing myself in tales of boat reconstructions. In a completely different context (I was looking for potential speakers about Cornish fishing) I happened across an exciting boat-building workshop in Falmouth. It was even free! There were only twelve places and I thought, no way will there be any vacancies but I applied and am super excited to announce that a boat restorer of my acquaintance and I will duly be getting up at very silly o’clock to spend a day in Falmouth. We had to provide names of next of kin on the booking form; should I be worried about this?
My fellow students and I decided we wanted a space to chat and moan and I stupidly suggested WhatsApp, as some weren’t keen on Facebook. Somehow this meant that I had ‘volunteered’ to set the group up. What I know about WhatsApp would fit on an extremely small postage stamp. I am the person with only seven contacts on my phone, two of whom I have never contacted. After a steep learning curve and with help from Martha, the group was established and there’s a lot of sharing of baking triumphs going on. As regular readers will know, I am genetically programmed to be a non-baker, so I can’t contribute to this, although it will soon be time for my once yearly baking foray as I make the Christmas cake.
We were also asked to pay the balance for our course. I think that worked but there is a great kerfuffle about the accompanying request for particular format pdf confirmation of previous qualifications, which none of us seem to be able to obtain. The alternative is ‘bring your certificates in in person’ (like that’s going to work), or to use a verification service that costs £40, which we are trying to avoid.
Having decided that growing, or even purchasing, hemp from which to make rope might be a bit dodgy and being right out of lime bast (no I didn’t know what that was either), I have been watching videos of using stinging nettles to make string. This does not seem to be without hazard but may be worth a go – easier than baking anyhow.
Now to seek out some sufficiently tall stinging nettles and wait with trepidation for the assignment feedback.
I’ve just returned from a short stay on the Isle of Wight. Let’s just say that internet access was of the ‘five unbroken minutes is a positive’ variety. Phone signal involved standing on one leg on the balcony with the phone held aloft, hence the radio silence. Mind you, it was better off than being at home where rats eating through cables knocked out all internet connection in three villages for five days.
It is always good to return to the island, where I lived for nearly thirty years. Getting on the ferry was a challenge as we arrived to be told we weren’t booked. After enquiring, it turns out that the holiday park hadn’t cancelled our car and caravan booking (despite cancelling our ability to bring the caravan and swapping us to a chalet instead). The ticket collector was obviously wondering if he should ask us if we realised that we’d mislaid the caravan.
Most of the holiday was spent enjoying the company of Edward, along with his mum and dad. Adult activities included hot-tubbing and board game playing. We explored the delights of the Blackgang Chine’s dinosaurs and dodos. Not sure for how many more years I will be able to clamber across the scramble nets. My first visit to the chine was over sixty years ago, when there was considerably more of it; it has been badly hit by landslips. At that time, it lacked the theme-park activities that it now boasts but it was still a must-see place to go. We played crazy-golf, we built sandcastles and poured two pence pieces into ravenous arcade machines. I drove past the first house that I purchased and was shocked to realise that it is forty years since I lived there! Surely the 1980s are practically last week. Minus Edward, which is probably as well for the sake of the china, we visited Osborne House for the umpteenth time. I was pleased to find that there is a positive correlation between English Heritage visitors and mask-wearing, ferry travellers less so.
Then home to the inevitable catching up. I’ve just written a three-volume novel that is the list of things to do before Christmas, currently standing at 117 tasks. There are three big speaking engagements on the horizon, as well as many other presentations for audiences from Devon to New Zealand, the latter sadly only virtually. I am looking forward to chatting about how the world of genealogy can become more accommodating across the age range as part of The Really Useful Show. Next up will be three presentations for THE Genealogy Show and I’ve just heard that I will have to tackle the learning curve that is recording two presentations for next year’s Rootstech.
A few things to report that have been crossed off the to-do list. I complied a list of best genealogical mystery novels for a Best Books website. I’ve also got an article on the Civil War hot on the presses of Who do You Think You Are? Magazine. Oh, and nothing to do with the to do list but I have Commonwealth Games tickets, only one set but I guess that’s a bonus for the bank balance. Now back to the course reading, of which more in a separate post.
The History Interpreter - Janet Few 