If the facts don't fit the theory, change the facts - Albert Einstein

If you asked Robbie he would tell you that I am pretty good at spotting clues and gathering evidence, as he has found to his cost in the past - I don't miss much! Unfortunately the detective work that I am engaged in at the moment is even more difficult than keeping tabs on Robbie, because the clues are old and there is no one left who can tell me if my conclusions are correct. It is like trying to complete a jigsaw when most of the pieces are missing. That is the 'joy' of family history research, reaching out to grasp detail that you know is there but it is tantalisingly out of reach.


Over the last few days I have been making renewed efforts to identify the people in my grandmothers photo album. There are lots of photos of my dad, poor chap, I thought I'd had some dodgy outfits in my time but you should see what my grandma dressed him in! I also recognise my grandfather, my grandma and some of her siblings but most of the other people are strangers to me. I don't know if I should be grateful to my grandma for preserving the photos or infuriated that she didn't label any of them. Even the few that have writing on the back have proved challenging. I was overjoyed when I eased a photo of a family group out of the album and found that it had writing on the back, but my pleasure was short lived. The writing wished my grandmother a happy Christmas wit love from "us all". There should be a law against such things, if I had my way people would be compelled to write first names and surnames on the back of each photo!

My advice to others is not to jump to conclusions and to ask lots of questions, however foolish they sound, because that will give you more chance of getting to the truth. Thanks to the good people on the Roots Chat forum I now know more about my great uncle Frank Buswell. He died in World War 1 and his obituary described him as 'Driver Frank Buswell of the Royal Field Artillary'. To me a driver is a person who sits in a vehicle behind a steering wheel so I wondered why his uniform included spurs and a riding crop. I assumed that it must be some sort of tradition, but today I plucked up the courage to ask why. One of the Roots Chat members patiently explained that As a driver he would have rode/Controlled teams of horses that pulled the guns and equipment of the Royal Field Artillery so he would have worn spurs etc. Another mystery solved and in the process I have gained a more accurate picture of his military service. 


When it comes to family history, finding answers is only part of the problem, the most difficult thing is finding the questions. There are things we do not know we don't know! 

Living in the Past

It is half term, it seems as if they only went back to school a couple of weeks ago, but I have my son's company for the week. He (the one who likes to remain nameless) graciously agreed to come to the supermarket with me in return for a lift into town afterwards. According to him we had no food in the house and he was starving, but in reality the fridge, freezer and cupboards were well stocked; he just had a yearning for junk food and cereal. Typical!


As we drove out of the supermarket I wondered aloud if the woman at the traffic lights seriously thought that off white, skin tight almost see through leggings with a short top was a good look. I answered myself with the thought that someone should buy her a mirror for Christmas!  The nameless one in the passenger seat laughed out loud, he said "Mum, you make me laugh you are always living in the past" He went on to tell me that I didn't understand fashion, that may be true but I am fairly sure the world is not ready for sights like that!


In a way he is right, I don't live in the past but I carry it with me. It only takes a word or a look, a sound or a smell to transport me back to the people and places of my past. Sometimes a smile or a guilty look from my son reminds me so much of his dad. The smell from the brewery takes me back to my earliest years when I used to go with my aunt to deliver the church magazine in the streets that are now long gone. The sight of magnolia blossom brings back memories of my college rooms with the beautiful magnolia tree near my window. 

I came across this photo recently, I remember going to the Odeon to see the Aristocats, it was a birthday treat for one of my best friends. Looking at the Ladybird shop next door reminded me how much I disliked shopping for clothes with my mum when I was little. She has always loved fashion, but even when I was tiny I detested frills and fuss. It was a battle of wills, my mum got me to try on countless outfits and I objected to every single one. Sometimes I got my own way, but more often my mum dressed me in the clothes she liked. Among the horrors that still haunt me was the seriously unflattering ruched swimming costume and a bright red wet look raincoat that made terrible noises every time I moved. The worst by far were the orange hot pants, unlike my mum I have never been a hot pants type of person! So maybe my son is right I don't understand fashion, but I do understand that there are some sights that the world will never be ready for!!

Reaching out to the Past

It's official - I am obsessed! This morning I bought a 1980 Model Railway Constructor magazine that I have wanted for ages. This is not something I have bought just to please Robbie, I haven't even told him about it because he would probably tell me to buy a magazine about Deltics instead!

I have been researching my family tree for a number of years and as many of my ancestors lived in and around Northampton I have become fascinated by old photos and old maps of the town. If only we could have street view on old maps, there so many places that I would like to see as they were when my grandparents and great grandparents knew the town. I would like to see where they lived, where they worked and the places that mattered in their lives. Most of all I would like to see the three railway stations in the town as they were then.

We think the world has progressed but in terms of public transport my grandmother's horizons were much wider than my own. She could travel to many towns and villages within the county by train and if she wanted to travel further, the train would take her; and for more local journeys she could rely on the tram. 

The first of our railway stations to close was the most convenient and most beautiful of the three. It was less than a five minute walk from St John's station to the market square. Clearly customer convenience was not a high priority even then - some things never change! Saint John's Station had opened in 1872, it was the northern terminus of the Midland Railway's Bedford to Northampton line. The station was built above street level on red brick arches which carried the line across the road and out of the town on the 21 mile journey to Bedford via Piddington (which in reality was much closer to Horton), Olney and Turvey. It was closed in July 1939 as a cost cutting measure and the services were re-routed to the much less convenient Castle Station.

Now it would take Sherlock Holmes to find any clue that a station ever stood on that spot, the station seems to have been erased from local memory and there are so few photos that you could almost suspect a cover up. So my reason for buying the old magazine was that it contains plans of St Johns and with the help of maps and old photos I can perhaps imagine the station in it's glory days.

A New Toy

Robbie managed to get it right this year, I was delighted with my present from him (apparently the girls kept him on the right track). He bought me a usb thingy to scan photo negatives on to my computer and I have spent the last couple of evenings revisiting old photos and remembering old times. I now have photographic proof that Robbie is not the only member of the family with an obsession with trains!

I hope this photo doesn't give Robbie any ideas, I couldn't cope with him dressing like a deltic! I am guessing that the photo was taken about 12 years ago but I am not allowed to identify the person in the picture because at 15 he is too cool to admit to being a Thomas fan when he was younger. I think the photo below was taken at Peterborough, but after all this time my memory is a bit dodgy and it could be Pitsford. I do remember a very excited three year old running up to a somewhat rotund member of staff and asking if he was the Fat Controller!

A Lazy Day

Saturday was a lovely lazy day and I needed it so badly after all the rushing around. It was nice to just take our time and do our own thing and for the first time in ages I was able to have some me time on the computer. For weeks before Laura's birthday I was busy creating a huge photo scrapbook for her, it took up every free moment and it almost took over my life. It was worth the effort because Laura loved it, but she was so funny when she looked through the book, she complained about almost every photo of her. Just knowing that it brought back so many happy memories made all the effort worth while.

The Tardis

This caravan has tardis like qualities, it does very strange things with time. In one sense the holiday flies past but in another way time stands still and we don't deal with normal every day things like post and normal everyday commitments. I love it here and I would happily stay longer, but when it is time to go home it will be lovely to see my family - and my dog!

I have been coming to this part of Cornwall for over 20 years and when I sit on the beach or walk along the coast path or wander around Padstow there are so many memories. When I was relaxing on the beach all on my own yesterday it felt very odd because I have spent so many years with the children gathering shells, fishing in rock pools, digging in the sand and watching them surfing or swimming in the sea. There are so many memories and fortunately there are lots of photos to keep those memories alive.

A Trip Down Memory Lane 17.01.08

I have been busy working on my family tree recently and I decided to scan and add as many old photographs as possible. It was great fun finding baby photos and pictures of parents and grandparents wearing some very dubious fashions.

I came across this cute little chap. Guess Who? It's Robbie, I wonder what happened!

I have been asked several times why there are no photos of me on the blog. The answer is simple, I hate having my photo taken, but her is one taken before I became camera shy.

And finally a picture of Robbie - it seems his outfit was inspired by Stan Ogden!!

18th Birthday 31.01.07

We had a very early start today, it is Emily's 18th birthday and we had all adjusted our morning routines slightly to spend some time with Emily while she opened her presents. I have been working on a photo scrapbook for her, it has taken far more time than I anticipated and I am very pleased with the results. Emily loved it and has taken it to school to share with her friends and to have a good laugh at the funny photos and the terrible clothes she was 'made' to wear when she was younger! I remember feeling that I had been scarred for life by some of the clothes my mum chose for me. I took particular exception to a ruched red swimming costume I was only about two or three, but it made me look like the michelin man's daughter! After that I developed a mind of my own and try as she might my mum could never get me to wear things I didn't like. We were looking at Robbie's old photos a few weeks ago and his childhood pictures caused a few giggles. He grew up in the 1970's, the era of extremely skimpy shorts among other 'fashion triumphs'. A number of the pictures make him look as if he is wearing pants rather than shorts - so that is why he insists on wandering around the house in his knickers, I always thought he was stuck in a time warp! Believe me you don't want me to see the photos, far too traumatic!!