Weekend Three of Four Weekends of Family History

by thehistoryinterpreter

This was the weekend of the Secrets and Lies conference run by the Halstead Trust. I’ve been to a good many of these residential family history conferences over the years (and I do mean years, my first was over forty years ago) and this rated as one of the best. We’d travelled up to Peterborough the previous day and were ensconced in a caravan site half a mile away from the conference venue. Half a mile that is if you were prepared to cross a river and a railway line; it was actually two miles away by road. We were there for everything except bed and breakfast however so weren’t going to miss out.

Having had a quick recce in the morning, we arrived at the venue in the early afternoon to meet many friends. This was our first post-covid residential conference, so this was a first meeting in person for several years for some of us. It was also lovely to meet people who I was used to seeing in a rectangular box on a screen and discover how tall they were! There were also several of our lovely A Few Forgotten Women volunteers present; most appropriate given the conference theme of secrets and lies.

Lectures kicked off with Maggie Gaffney talking about a transportee, followed by Paul Blake illustrating just how the visual image, or our perception of that image, can lie. We were then treated to tales of bigamy and adulterine births in Scotland by Stewart Stevenson. The evening meal followed and Else Churchill rounded off the day with post watershed accounts of the bawdy courts.

Saturday dawned and I was first up, chatting about prostitution. I was glad that both my sessions were early on in the day as my capacity for being alert for a whole day at events like this is clearly waning. There was a choice of talks for Saturday’s lectures, so sadly I had to miss some I’d would have liked to hear. My first choice was Margaret’s ’Auntie Jo’s lost on the Family Tree’, which included the fascinating story of Agnes Beckwith’s life of secrets and lies, alongside a notable swimming career. After a buffet lunch of sandwiches and chips, which struck me as a rather odd but most acceptable combination I went to help Chris, who had been personning my bookstall all day. One of the advantages of in-person talks is that you do tend to sell a few books.

My choices for the afternoon were Alan Moorhouse’s tales of bigamy, Donna Rutherford’s detective story, cracking a coded message on the back of a postcard and Sarah Wise, with an account of her research into those incarcerated under the 1913 Mental Deficiency Act. Then a quick trip back to the caravan to get what passes for glammed up in our world. I was proud to receive a certificate of achievement from the Society of Genealogists. I’d actually been awarded this during Covid but this was the first opportunity for it to be handed over. Then to the food, to be frank, we aren’t a great fan of gala dinner food, preferring hearty platefuls of plainer fare over artfully arranged sprigs of not much surrounded by bits of drizzle. It is often a case of choosing the least worst menu options. This was not too bad by comparison. The soup was tasty, my aubergine something or other and Chris’ chicken something else were acceptable and puddings always go down well. A word about the dining room staff, who were just incredible in their efficiency. The woman in charge was managing them with a series of hand signals that made her look like she was a race-course bookie. She really should be in a top-class restaurant not a motel on a roundabout.

Then Sunday and by this time, I am realising that it takes stamina I am not sure I have to get through these events intact. The first talk by Calista Williams about the staff in Cottage Homes dovetailed well with the premier of my talk on Fallen Women. Judie McCourt then told us about Emma Costello’s life and divorce, including an encounter with a mystery Italian on a sofa. After more sandwiches and chips for lunch, Debbie Kennet treated us to a DNA case study, uncovering a paternity mystery.

Then it was all over. I know from experience just how difficult and exhausting these conferences are to organise and the team did a great job. I don’t know how many crises they were fielding under the surface, I am sure there were some but it didn’t show. I think I have persuaded a few people to come to our conference next year and I have a lot to live up to but I am confident of our excellent programme and beautiful location, so we do it all again then, although I have another bite of the conference cherry in between at the Guild of One-Name Studies conference in April and stand by for more family history next weekend.

Post conference, we arrived back at the van to find that it was three foot further back than we’d left it. Next door but one with huge new-to-them caravan and an automatic Volvo had been trying to move off site to go home. They’d left the motor movers on (which move the van into place a bit like a remote control car). Husband driving leaves engine running and car in drive mode and gets out to turn said motor movers off, as they are acting as a break. He turns them off – car then takes off on its own with the caravan, heading for our van. Wife in the passenger seat tries to steer car away from our van. Guy in nearby camper van tries to push their van away from ours and gets knocked down. At least this is the rather garbled story we came back to. Minor cosmetic damage to the tow hitch of our van and two broken feet where it was pushed back a metre. Site owners had been trying to ring but we had turned phones off in the conference. We were met by very apologetic damage-causers who were clearly still in shock five hours later. We ran checks to ensure we could still wind our legs up (that’s the caravan’s legs – not so sure about our own) and connect the car to the van, which were the concerns. Then to recover from the weekend.

Family History Weekend Number Two (of Four)

by thehistoryinterpreter

Before we get to weekend three of family history this month, I ought to report back on last Saturday, weekend two. We headed across the border to Bridgerule. I say across the border but the River Tamar divides Bridgerule, so some parts are in Devon and some in Cornwall. We were heading for  the church, where there was to be a local history display and we were booked to give family history advice. We had a postcode. The sat-nav didn’t recognise the postcode. Never fear thinks I, we will get to Bridgerule and if we can’t see the church, we will use What Three Words, which I also have. Bridgerule is tiny but there was no obvious church. Sadly there was no obvious phone signal either so the what three words option was out. We found the community shop and asked for directions. In fact we asked for directions twice more after that. It seems that some people can’t distinguish between a parish church and a non-conformist church. Eventually we find the church and the organisers had put on a great display, with equally great cake on offer.

I’ll be honest, in a place the size of Bridgerule, we were expecting one man and a dog if we were lucky but no. There was a steady stream of visitors and they didn’t just glance and pass by, they stayed and engaged. There was someone sat at our stall, asking for family history advice almost all day. In all, we fielded seventeen detailed enquiries. Partly I think because most of the visitors weren’t experienced family historians, we were able to help every single one. They all left with new information and delighted smiles. It is a long time since I have felt quite so much like a magician.

There was an interesting incident with Amazon in the middle of trying to record a talk ready for next month. Not sure if it was just because the order included an electrical item but I was asked for a tracking number. Unfortunately the driver’s only two words of English appeared to be ‘tracking number’. Where was this tracking number? I always delete all the emails that say ‘your order is out for delivery’ his engine is running while I look through the 200 or so delete emails of the past two or three days (searching didn’t seem to work, nothing in junk). Then he finds the third word in his English vocabulary ‘app’, nope, no app; I do all my stuff on the laptop not the phone. Finally found a teeny tiny tracking number when I went to the Amazon website. The whole palaver must have taken about fifteen minutes all told. By the time we’d finished, the noise of the pouring rain on the conservatory roof made recording tricky.

What else has been going on? A meeting with a new family member for Chris, who also has a Buckland Brewer connection and an excuse to eat cake. A talk to give and some work on a Cornish family. I’ve also been giving my talks for the coming weekend a final once-over. One was a little lacking in illustrations, as everything I wanted to use was copyright. As a consequence, I’ve been having a play with ChatGPT. I don’t have a paid account so there’s only so much you can do each day. Nonetheless, it has livened up the presentation. Really looking forward to chatting about the history of prostitution and fallen women this weekend, as you do – well, as I do anyway.

Image ChatGPT

Up the Garden Path 16

by thehistoryinterpreter

It has been a while since we’ve been up the garden path and to be honest, the garden has been a bit neglected over the summer. It has mostly been about a great deal of watering and thanks to the new wooden barrel, large capacity, water butt, I didn’t run out of water, although it came pretty close. I do worry slightly that it still smells as if I am watering things with neat whisky though. A lovely friend came and kept things alive when I was away in May, aided by me moving pots to the shady part of the garden and standing them in children’s paddling pools and the like. It turns out that I have about fifty things in pots, or rather things in fifty pots, which may be a little OTT even for a garden with very few flower beds.

A lot of time has been spent trying to weed the gravel, in which eleventy billion violets self-seeded. A few other things self-seeded as well but I allowed the marigolds and oriental poppies to stay while they flowered and there’s still a random foxglove. The patio, which makes up the majority of the garden, is another story. Anything that will grow in the cracks has and I don’t want to repoint it as otherwise there’s nowhere for the heavy rain to go. It looks, to be frank, a total mess. I do have a lethal looking implement ‘not suitable for use by under sixteens’, that is supposed to be ace for weeding gaps between paving slabs but is actually pretty useless. Much as I am not keen on the idea, I fear it will have to be weed killer. Now all I need is a dry spell to apply it, which isn’t looking like any time soon.

The large tree in a pot that was rescued and I was using to fill the one tiny gap where I am overlooked decided to die and is now no more, although the two bare twigs about nine inches long that I got from the Woodland Trust are flourishing, as is the lemon tree, which actually has lemons on, not that they look like being edible. Last year my new apple tree had one solitary apple, this year there are several, they are still a bit small, so I am hoping they get to harvestable size. A new apple tree in a pot has three apples, although the pear looks a bit sadly.

Definitely not all success stories. The Josephine Bruce rose an the new wisteria started off looking supper healthy then suddenly looked windburned, even though they are in the most sheltered bit of the garden. The rose now looks seriously poorly; too much whisky perhaps? I will prune heavily and hope for better things next year, a flower would be a start.

I guess having seventeen different plants in flower in September isn’t bad for a tiny garden, even though it does look a bit bare and drab in general. More work is needed! Some pictures of the last three months of flowers to cheer you up if it is wet, windy and decidedly wintery with you too.

A Family History Weekend and a Missed Opportunity

by thehistoryinterpreter

The Malvern trip continued with Gloucester Family History Society’s open day at the Heritage Hub. It was lovely to be able to see people in real life and chat about family history. I listened to Simon from WeAre.xyz, talking about his software (quick resolution to do more with my site), then gave my A to Z talk. After that, it was out for a meal and a catch up with family history friends. This is the first of four in person family history weekends in four different counties this month. A bit like buses, you wait for ever, then they all come at once,

Sunday was rainy. I mean seriously rainy, so rather than  head off early, as we prefer to do, we sat it out, while I looked at the Withenbury family goodies I’d found at the Worcestershire archives. Note, I did not look back at earlier notes, a big mistake. The rain cleared up eventually, giving us just time to visit Hanbury Hall, a nearish by National Trust property and former home of the Vernon family. The most outstanding features are the wall and ceiling paintings by James Thornhill, which, unusually, were painted on dry, not wet, plaster. There are also traditional, knot-garden style gardens, with plenty of topiary, which I photographed for use in my seventeenth century gardens talk. I was also quite taken with a 1715 election ‘poster’, when Thomas Vernon was standing for the Whig cause. This, I thought was about all Hanbury Hall had to offer, how wrong I was.

We returned home. This involved me driving through storm and tempest, with torrential rain meaning that I could barely see the road. Fortunately that was just the last couple of miles, as I am chauffeured most of the way. I then continued to look at the Withenburys. Something I had noted before, when I was trying to prove that they are actually my ancestors, rather than probably my ancestors, was that a James Withenbury was an architect and sculptor. This chap is likely to be my 6x great grandfather’s brother, or maybe a half-brother. ‘That close’, I hear you cry. He is at least on the family tree of the ‘almost my ancestors’. He also, said my notes, which I was viewing from 150 miles away from Hanbury Hall, designed the frontage of the hall in 1718. It is likely that I walked past his architectural sketch while we were at the Hall! Another trip is on the cards.

An Excursion to the Malvern Hills

by thehistoryinterpreter

Today I am due to speak at an event in Gloucester. ‘Let’s go up a few days early’, we said, well I said, thinking that I could sneak a day at not too distant Worcester Archives and pick up some wills. First, I gave a talk to legacy webinars about marginalised ancestors, which you can listen to here if you are so inclined, no charge until 10 September. It was lovely to catch up with the lovely Fiona Brooker from New Zealand, who was my host, as I was part of the early, down-under shift. Then, in theory, we were off.

So leaving early entailed not leaving quite as early as we had intended, as the caravan-towing car randomly failed to start. By the time the recovery people had got it to go, it had been ‘diagnosed’ by the local garage and had been pronounced fit to travel, it was too late for us to reach our final destination in the Malvern Hills before curfew. The very helpful caravan site staff organised an overnight stop in Cheddar for us instead. Next day, when I was supposed to be at ‘The Hive’ in Worcester, we travelled on to Malvern. There was time for a visit to Witley Court in the afternoon. It turns out we had been before, so I won’t repeat the history but you can read about it here. Yesterday, we headed for The Hive. Unlike other archives that have morphed into community spaces, this one does still allow plenty of opportunities for researchers. It is an interesting building that reflects its name and the staff were super helpful. I’d done my best to do my homework before arriving and this mostly paid off.

I had a long list of wills and was directed to a microfilm machine where I could copy images directly to a memory stick. Someone or other’s law dictated that every image I sought was at the end of the film. Unfortunately, the rewind feature on the machine was faulty and many minutes were spent rewinding films by hand. As the archive is part of the library, research was accompanied by enthusiastic renditions of Grand Old Duke of York and Heads, Shoulders, Knees and Toes by a toddler group. I acquired several interesting inventories for ‘probably my ancestors’ but no earth-shattering revelations to convert them into actually my ancestors, not that I was expecting any. It turns out that I no longer have the stamina for all day visits to archives and much remains on the to do list.

‘Tis Done!

by thehistoryinterpreter

It has taken all the time I could spare and some that I couldn’t, for the past seven weeks but the seafarers and shoemakers story of some of my children’s ancestors is finished. In the end there were sone coopers, a baker and a housemaid thrown in for good measure. It covers sixteen couples or individuals and eight generations. There’s 16,000 words, 62 pages and 160 footnotes and at times I really wished I could stop finding new people to add. I can’t imagine anyone will want to read it but it is at least preserved for posterity. Just in case anyone reading this is connected to the same Hampshire families, the surnames are: Sweetingham, Denham, Emery, Fox, Grace, Hooker, Markes, Newman, Renouf, Strugnell and Wade and you can download the pdf over on my Granny’s Tales website.

Now I need to turn my attention to the things that I should have been doing. Mind you, it may well be that my planned archive trip next week will open up a whole new avenue for research, as if there aren’t enough families still to write about anyway.

Where I am at, Where I’ve Been and Where I Will be

by thehistoryinterpreter

Where I am at is 10,000 words, 40 pages and 100+ footnotes deep in my seamen and shoemakers, thinking it is almost done, only to find that I can take one twiglet back a further two, or three, or maybe more, generations. Great news in one way but instead of having two more couples to do, that gives me a whole load more folk to write about. This isn’t even on the (daunting) to do list, from which I have removed all the low hanging fruit, in the interests of deluding myself that there isn’t much left. Sadly, it is all the ‘this will take several days’ jobs not the ‘this will take ten minutes’ ones that are left.

Where I’ve been, includes a trip to Buckland Brewer to look at the VJ Day display and listen to a fascinating talk about the women of Appledore, including those who spent decades hauling limestone for the limekilns. Unusually, this required me to drive. It is August, the nights are drawing in (sorry but they are). I don’t do driving at night. Not so much fear of vampires but the inability to cope with other people’s headlights. Could I chair the meeting, skip the refreshments and get home before dark? It seems that after doing a Cinderella act and dashing out as the words of the last question were still dying on the audience’s lips, that I could. Why was I driving? Because himself has been involved in a week of street drama set in one of my one-places. For him, this mostly seems to involve helping to launch a boat off a tricky beach in the pitch dark and then get it safely back in after someone else has rowed it out and back. I am hoping to watch the whole presentation tonight.

In the past eight days, I’ve eaten cake at my favourite café. I’ve swum, yes actually swum, albeit only for about thirty seconds, in the sea. I’ve recreated a photograph from 1969 on the exact anniversary of the day it was taken. I’ve spent seven hours in A & E to be told, as usual, that I am not about to collapse and yes, I did the right thing coming in but no, they don’t know what is wrong with me, so as you were. I’ve had a chat with the lovely Helen Tovey of Family Tree Magazine about my presentations for the Secrets and Lies conference, along with two of the other presenters; I am so looking forward to this. I’ve led a brick wall busting session for Devon Family History Society and listened to an excellent Zoom talk about the occupants of a north Devon house.

Despite how the above sounds, August had been comparatively quiet but whoa September, I am looking at you. Before I even get there, there’s my workshop to give as part of a whole day of presentations on researching agricultural labourers and rural life bookings are open here. Then September hits like a train. Only six talks to give but unusually, four are in person. In addition, there is the second presentation of my ‘Putting your Female Ancestors into Context’ online course for Pharos. We had great fun the first time round and it is such an important topic. There are still spaces if you are interested.

As for where I will be, that revolves round the talks. First up will be the monthly Biography Club session for the Society of Genealogists, which I do from the comfort of my own home. I am clinging on by my fingernails attempting to keep pace with the group, in the hope of finally finishing mine by next year’s ‘big’ birthday. Then I am presenting a webinar for Legacy webinars on 3 September, also from home. It will be a version of my Ancestors on the Margins talk and you can book to listen here. Then I am off to Gloucester to give a talk there and staying a few days to allow me to pick up some wills relating to a family that I hope I can one day confirm is mine, as well as have a look round.

Next is the Secrets and Lies Conference in Peterborough followed by the 40th anniversary of the Isle of Wight Family History Society and boy have I got some memories to share. I am currently accepting financial inducements to delete parts of my text. Then summer will be over and where has this year gone?

Mostly about Writing

by thehistoryinterpreter

I thought that it was about time I wrote something, so that people didn’t start enquiring after my welfare. It’s been the season for the descendants to descend; typically, they were here during the few days of less good weather. Plenty of board game opportunities, with Taverns of Tiefenthal being the current favourite, alongside the obligatory visits to the pick and mix sweet shop, the ice-cream shop, the rock pools and the playground. We also watched people attempting to paddle cardboard boats across the river and some of us acted like ninjas (best not to ask) and that was summer fun done for another year. There then followed what passes for a spring clean, as I removed buckets of sand from various corners of the house, washed a million sheets and towels and returned things to their rightful places. Though, to be fair, the visitors were pretty good and setting things to rights.

Now it is back to the computer, interspersed with occasional paddles and even a very quick swim. A quiet month for talks this month but I am gearing up for a hectic September. I’ve done some brick wall busting. Well more of a chipping away, as Devon FHS members have got too good at solving their own, so we tend to only get almost impossible ones sent in now. I have practiced my ag labs workshop for the end of the month and am very excited to launch that on the unsuspecting public at the end of a whole day of exploring agricultural labouring ancestors.

Biography club was concentrating on household tasks this month. This must be at least the eighth time I’ve run courses to help people write their life stories and this time (like all the other times) I am determined to keep up with the participants and finish mine. On the strength of having done quite a bit already, I am just about on schedule. The plan is to finish in time for next year’s ‘big’ birthday. No one will want to read it of course but it is fun to write, if an exercise in self-indulgence. Seriously though, everyone has a story to tell and everyone’s story is important. Of the planned fourteen chapters, eight are done, two are almost done and four are figments of my imagination. One of these will be about voluntary work and that’s going to take some time. I’ve got as far as making a list and have come up with twenty different things I’ve done over the past fifty-five years that come under this category. Some were short-lived, most were fun and almost all are chocked full of memories. The trouble is that voluntary work and hobbies, another chapter that is as yet a blank page, overlap so I am going to need to distinguish between then somehow. The first three chapters alone are 40,000 words and run to 145 pages including illustrations. I told you it was self-indulgent – I may not be printing this out! The expurgated versions of some of the chapters are over on Granny’s Tales, just in case anyone is curious.

Related to all this looking back, I’ve been preparing a talk for the 40th anniversary of Isle of Wight Family History Society, which is one of three big live performances scheduled for next month. As well as what I hope will be some thought-provoking comments on the family history community’s past and future, there’s plenty more self-indulgence in the shape of ‘do you remember?’s. Family history has been and still is an enormous part of 70% of my life. Most of my friends are those I’ve made through family history. It has been a blast and it isn’t over yet.

In between all this, I am still plugging away at my seafarers and shoemakers in Southampton – see I didn’t even have to try to create the alliteration. This too is growing like topsy. What I should be doing is more to the next book. It is on the, rather dauntingly long, to do list! By way of encouragement, reviews have been coming in for Women’s Work. I am particularly chuffed with Julia Packman’s review in this month’s, Who Do You Think You Are? Magazine ‘a creation to be reckoned with’. Oh and it is currently on offer at 30% off from Pen & Sword, that’s a hardback at paperback price (ebooks also available). So if you want a creation to be reckoned with you know where to go.

One-places, Shoemakers, Seafarers and Finding Living Relatives, with some Ag Labs Thrown in

by thehistoryinterpreter

The title of this blog illustrates the wonderful variety that is family history, also known as, how many rabbit warrens can you plunge down head-first in a short space of time? Some lovely news first. I have had the huge honour of being made an honorary life member of the Society for One-Place Studies. I am always very unsure what I’ve done when these tributes come my way, except for having been around for a very long time but I am very grateful. I will continue to champion the cause of one-place studies, as there is so much that you can learn by focusing in on a small area and for family historians, it is important to understand the environment in which they lived.

I’ve also had great fun creating an interactive workshop about researching rural communities and their workers. This is due for its premier on 30 August and you can book for a whole day of fascinating presentations with an agricultural history theme here. I shall be persuading some friends to practice this workshop first but I think we are going to enjoy ourselves.

I’ve decided to take a step across to look again at a branch of my children’s ancestry, which is also the family for which I have an, admittedly pretty much dormant, one-name study. So a few days have been spent with the Sweetingham family who include generations of seafarers and shoemakers who settled in the Hamble estuary near Southampton. An area with an interesting history, ripe for a one-place study I’d say but emphatically not undertaken by me. Repeats to self ‘you do not need any more projects’. Once you untangle the Hughs who like to call themselves Luke and the Henrys who call themselves Hugh, because they can, you are on a roll with this lot, helped by several wills. Mind you, two family members were in court for destroying a will but the odd criminal adds to the story. Although I set up Granny’s Tales for my own ancestry, I am tempted to start uploading stories of ‘the other side’ because they too need preserving. The Sweetinghams are currently a series of notes so don’t hold your breath.

I’ve also been sent a book by a fellow genealogist from the US, Cheri Hudson Passey. This is on the important topic of tracing forward and finding living relatives; what Cheri calls ‘Genealogy in Reverse’. This has always been a key part of family history research; who knows what nuggets of information, memorabilia or photographs those distant cousins may have? With the advent of DNA testing, we have another reason to trace forwards to try to identify those DNA matches that come our way, or maybe to find people to persuade to test. Although we live in an era when there is a whole plethora of documentation about every individual, it is also a world of privacy laws, mobile populations and an awful lot of people. Tracking down distant living relatives, especially those who want to remain hidden, is an art. Although Cheri’s slim volume (54 pages), entitled Genealogy in Reverse: finding the living, is written for the US market, much of it is applicable across the English-speaking world and in any case, some of our living relatives may well be outside the UK. I don’t have a price but it is obtainable from the Genealogical Publishing Company in Baltimore, Maryland, if you are interested.

Another picture to remind you that I live somewhere beautiful.

What’s what in July?

by thehistoryinterpreter

The busyness has continued this month. For some reason best known only to myself, it seemed like a good idea to open bookings for Devon Family History Society’s 50th anniversary residential conference during my most hectic week with the job we must not mention. As I am the person who processes these bookings and they went slightly crazy, it was all a tad overwhelming. We’d done our research into the numbers of attendees at similar conferences in recent years, we’d added 20% because it is in beautiful North Devon, we’d added some more because the programme is something special and we were optimists and that was our predicted audience. Bookings opened and we filled half the rooms within 48 hours. There followed an anxious wait for an appointment with the venue’s events manager and finally more rooms were secured. Even with additional rooms, we are two thirds full. If you want to come along, don’t delay.

It is going to be a hectic year next year, as I am also running ‘how to’ family history courses, and a couple of workshops, as well as my usual programme of online courses and presentations. Oh and then there’s holidays, with a couple of special trips planned and before we know it, it will be 2027!

There has been more family history, this time delving in to my children’s Hampshire ancestry; seafarers and shoemakers along the Hamble Estuary. There have been outings with friends and now it is time for family school summer holiday visits, cue excitement and exhaustion in equal measure.

There are home improvements to add to the mix. I’ve had solar panels installed. I had them previously, so was already a convert. All very efficiently installed and I have a mound of certificates, warranty documents and the like. I am now just waiting for a magic number so I can start to sell excess power back to the grid, on top of lowering my own electricity bill. Next stop, a replacement for the ‘interesting’ salmon pink bathroom suite. At the moment I have one large shower en-suite and a bath in the bathroom. I’ve decided to go for a second shower, as opposed to replacing the bath, as that suits me better and any future owner desperate for a bath could always swap it back.

There’s been more research into fallen women, because, well, why not and it is one of my subjects for September’s Secrets and Lies conference (another event that’s proved very popular). A bit of a foray into nunneries, that’s for a book chapter and a day researching women born in 1819 (the same year as Queen Victoria) for A Few Forgotten Women. Now, apart from Biography Club, I have a lull in presentations until September and yes I am still (yet again) trying to keep up with biography club so my own is finally finished, at least as regards what’s happened so far! Not sure I will make it but that’s the aim. Come September, it is full-on round the country talks again, as well as a chance to catch up with friends.

Above all, enjoying the glorious coastline.