So it’s 2016, is it?


What do you mean, it’s been 2016 for several weeks?  But I’m sure it was Christmas only a couple of days ago!!

Don’t worry. I haven’t really lost my marbles.  The Christmas decorations have been packed away in their boxes and returned to the loft, but it seems that it’s only in the last week that I’ve had a kind of breathing space from being really busy and/or unwell.  You see, it was in the run-up to Christmas that my stupid old neck1 started giving me trouble again and though I did go to the chiropractor, I ended up with visual problems which took me to the hospital A&E because I feared it was a detached retina, and then on to an opthalmologist who said it wasn’t, and to my doctor who said it was a migraine-type disturbance almost certainly due to my neck problems and I should ‘learn to know my limits’.  It lasted a week or so before slowly settling down and then I caught flu.


Yep, I know, most people who say they have flu only really have a bad cold, but this laid me up for two or three weeks and I was still coughing badly for another week.  Well, that was before Christmas and I still cough now and then.  It seems to have triggered a kind of vicious circle with my asthma, but it is improving, I’m happy to say.

Anyway, this is not going to be a post all about my boring health2.

I’ve decided that I’d like to get back to blogging again and so I’m setting myself the task of writing more consistently with a view to getting a blog book done at the end of the year. It’ll be a bit more like a diary of my life, though still written in the same style as I’ve always done: some factual stuff, some righteous anger, some gentle wit perhaps, and a lot of guff3.   What triggered this decision?  Because after a longish break, I’m back doing the family genealogy again and one of the things which has kept me so busy was a book which I’ve just made using Photobox.  You don’t see the connection, do you?  But if you stick with this, you will.

In case you don’t know, Photobox is a website which helps you to make all kinds of stuff using your own photographs.  I’m really only interested in the photo books, because they’re really versatile and well-suited to making really quite neat and tidy records of all those bits of family history that I have knocking around.  I’ve now made several books: I did one of the family photo albums which my father made when I was a child, I made one each of my two sons’ childhood drawings, and now I’ve made a ‘scrapbook’ of my mother’s life.


When Mum died in 2011, my brother and I cleared her bungalow, which was packed to the gills with all kinds of stuff she couldn’t (or wouldn’t) throw out. There were bags and bags full of old magazines, catalogues, pamphlets, scraps of paper, greetings cards, letters, bills – you name it – all mixed up together.  There was a whole ottoman full of knitting wool and there were scores of knitting and sewing patterns. There were example of some in those being worn in the old family albums, dating back to the 1960s, that’s how old they were.  Ornaments, clothes, trinkets, gadgets, umpteen pairs of scissors and trays of ancient cutlery, hundreds of (by then) dead houseplants and empty pots and vases.  Single gloves waiting in vain for their partners.  Half empty bottles of alcohol dating back to the year dot.  I can’t tell you how much stuff we found.  It was bloody hard deciding what to bring home4, and it has taken an absolute age to sort through it, but I’ve done it.


One reason that making the book was so difficult was that, before the migraine and then the flu hit me, I’d bought a 100-page photobook credit with Photobox5 and I had to use it before the end of December.  Since I was only just fit enough to stand in the kitchen and cook the Christmas dinner when it came to it, it was a close-run thing, I can tell you!  I had hundreds of photos and papers to scan and resize and upload, and I also spent some time searching through dust-laden boxes for bits and pieces which I knew I had somewhere, and wanted for the book.  Did I tell you I was still coughing?  Maybe all that dust didn’t  help.

I’ve decided to do another book for my Dad’s life, and I’m also collecting stuff for an eventual book for my own.  I have no idea when I’m going to fit our own family photo albums in!


Ah, well. It’s all good fun, isn’t it?  One must have one’s hobbies, or one really would go nuts.

1 And I do mean ‘old’.  I got my first senior discount yesterday.  It was a peculiar mixture of a ‘Wow, excellent!’ moment and mild depression.  But anyway, the neck was damaged decades ago carrying No. 1 son on my shoulders, and doesn’t get any better with age.

2 There are quite a few, from myxoedema to fibromyalgia and including things like torn rotator cuffs, sprained ankles, asthma, TMJ, allergies, the neck, and … well, it’s all just boring.

3 Guff = nonsense, rubbish, drivel, waffle or empty talk.  In Norfolk dialect, it would be called ‘squit’, apparently!

4 Not the alcohol, no.  That was an easy decision; we poured it down the loo.

5 The way Photobox works is that you choose what you want to make and buy a credit for it.  You then have a certain amount of time in which to complete your project or you lose your money – which is a bit crap, but that’s the way it goes.  I only buy credits when there’s a special offer, and I pay a little bit extra to get three months to create it instead of the usual one, but when you have a 100-page book to do and no scans done, it’s still a bit tight.

A Family Thing

I wrote this post last week, but then my poor old Jeffie deteriorated further and on Friday was diagnosed with liver cancer, so I’ve been concentrating on spending time with him, enjoying his company and making sure he is as comfortable as possible in his remaining days or weeks. I wanted to add another photo, but for now I’ll publish and if I find the picture I wanted, I’ll add it later.


Last week, I cashed in a Christmas gift.

When a couple has been married for thirty-eight years1, it becomes a tad harder for them to find suitable gifts for each other, so in recent years, OH and I have tended to try to find something a little different. There have been concert tickets, for instance, and one time I sent him on a cheese-making course which he thoroughly enjoyed. Often we can make these things a surprise, but sometimes we resort to asking for a list, and this last Christmas I asked to be taken to the ‘Who Do You Think You Are’ family history fair at the Birmingham NEC.

However, neither of us could have foreseen that this would be the week that poor Jeffie deteriorated to the point where we both felt it would be unfair to send him to Sharon’s for three days while we swanned off enjoying ourselves2 – even though she’s really great with the dogs and Sid used to live with her anyway – because it’s a small house and it has anywhere between eight and twelve greyhounds living in it at any one time. The poor old guy would have got knocked about and he wouldn’t have eaten, and that would have meant he’d have come home thinner and even less well. So we decided that I would go, and OH would stay home and care for the dogs.


As it turned out it was a good decision, because he had a crisis and we called the vet out today (Sunday) really thinking that it would be a case of euthanasia, which caused not a few tears. But I’m happy to say that he’s still here, and doing a bit better. He is being given medication and we’ll see how he goes over the next few days. (Please forgive the placement of the copyright notice on that one, by the way. It’s to discourage the more extreme anti-racing activists from stealing it for their propaganda. Trust me, I’ve had this happen in the past and it’s really upsetting).

So anyway, on Wednesday evening, I arrived at the hotel3 armed with the tickets, my laptop, a couple of notebooks, many pencils, and some old family photos to take to the experts for dating to give me a clue as to who the hell was in them. And Thursday morning, bright and early, I was in the door and doing the rounds.


One of my photos caused some excitement since it appeared to have been taken by a somewhat famous photographer, and while I still haven’t identified everyone who is in it, I know which regiment the man in the centre belonged to, and the approximate year range, and I know that one of the young ladies is my grandmother, and the others are great aunts (her sisters) so I can probably narrow it down. And I have some great information which should help me with some of the others, too. I did get my wrist slapped a bit for taking in a reprint of one instead of the original, because he needed to see the back to be able to tell me where and when it was taken, and of course the back of mine was a nice, clean … blank.

Then it was on to the ‘Ask The Experts’ desk to book a couple of sessions, and I’d hardly got to the front of the queue and made my bookings than it was time to find my seat in the first lecture of the day, after which I managed to look around a few stands and have some lunch before the next one began. I attended a lecture called ‘Are You Sitting Comfortably?’ on how to organise my research, and called simply ‘Parish Records’, the first of which was sobering but incredibly useful, and the second both fascinating and a little disappointing because I wanted to make notes of what was written on the slides but they were whipped away so quickly that I missed a lot.


As you can tell, it was a very, very busy day. I came away with pages of notes, some great ideas on how to proceed on several different fronts, and a huge amount of enthusiasm. The next day was the same except that I never did get to the ‘Ask The Experts’ desk to book more sessions because I had two lectures booked for the morning and early afternoon and I needed to leave by half past two to get home. I’d only booked two nights at the hotel – and, of course, I wanted to get back to my sick dog. Friday’s lectures were ‘Scottish Parish Records’, which was a much better presentation than the English one, and ‘Copyright & Family History’ which was excellent if a little daunting and I’m not sure I understood it all completely.


All in all, it was a great event and I was really very surprised not to find it more crowded and busy, though I chose to attend on the Thursday and Friday, and I’m going to assume that probably by the weekend you could barely move in there. I’ve never been to one of these things before, but I’ll go next year if I can, and next time I’ll be a whole lot better prepared. For one thing, I’ll beg or borrow an iPad instead of dragging a laptop around, I’ll sort out more (original) photos to take along, and I’ll plan my time better. Oh, and I’ll book the lectures earlier, too, because the popular ones really do fill up quickly. I never got so much as a glimpse of Tony Robinson, and I know he was giving one. That would have been fun!4

I particularly liked these 1930s tea rooms. Incidentally, you could get a lovely cup of tea and a really good Eccles cake in there!


1 Yes, I am that old. Old as dirt, as my American friends say. I’m practically an antique.

2 Well, one of us would have been enjoying ourselves. The other one would have been utterly miserable and wishing he was anywhere but the NEC. In fact at one point, I sent him a text which read ‘This is FUN! You’d have hated it’.

3 But not, as it happened, the hotel we’d booked. We arrived at the really nice, luxury hotel OH had booked only to be told that they ‘had a problem with the booking’, which roughly translated almost certainly means ‘Ooops, we double-booked and you’re the unlucky ones’. They booked us a room at another hotel which they assured us would be of comparable quality, but was it heck as like. It was the Novotel at Birmingham Airport. Clean, reasonably comfortable but with toilet paper which appeared to have been made from recycled MacDonald’s drinks trays and about ten inches between the bed and the wall to slide along in order to get into the damn thing. Oh, and peculiar things like windows that opened, but with a notice on them which said in capital letters ‘DO NOT OPEN THIS WINDOW’ and three light switches between the toilet and the bathroom which you would think operated the lights for those rooms plus the little entrance area but which in fact did not. One of them worked the bedroom lights, while the bathroom switch was in the bedroom area. It was nearer to the NEC though, so it wasn’t all bad.

4 Although I’d have sat there grinning and thinking ‘I’m watching Baldrick giving a lecture on family history!’