05/10/2006, 21:35
Well it is October. What can we expect after such a glorious summer? The ground needs a good soaking!!!
Today, we headed for Largs to help mum put up a curtain track, had lunch, and then made our way to Renfrew and Paisley to do some of my book research. Having spent so many years researching prior to 1900, it makes an interesting change to try to link facts to memories of my own past history.
Our search came to nothing, although we did find our way to both libraries and met one or two other family researchers. We also discovered that we could become members of both libraries, should we need to borrow any of their local history books.Something to remember.
The information we wanted is now held in the Mitchell library in Glasgow.It appears that when most of the central belt was part of Strathclyde Region during the seventies and eighties, an opportunity was taken to collect archives and store them in Glasgow, something the librarians we spoke to today were not particularly impressed by. But it does mean that everything needed for my current research is in one place.....so....next week will require a visit to the said library.
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04/10/2006, 12:25
I watched with interest the BBC family history programme Who do you think you are? last night. The programme began in Mull, where my old friend and Matwo(second mother), appeared as the local historian that she is. It was good to see her looking so well, and still pursuing the work that her late husband Roy and she began when they first went to Mull.From Mull,the programme moved to Northern Ireland, which was particularly relevant to my own family research.David Tennant (Dr Who) was tracing his maternal grandparents' lives there at the beginning of the last century. He was more than slightly perturbed by the evidence of sectarianism that is displayed on walls and pavements, and was noticably very unsure of his feelings as he held his great grandfather's Orange Sash in his hands. He was careful to say relatively little, but in doing so, said so much.
The religious divide in Ireland is a river where bridges have been built and washed away.New bridges are being built, but their foundations are on shaky ground, despite the majority of people supporting their use.
When I visit Ireland next month, I will be interested to discern whether the situation has changed any, at least on the surface. There is and probably always will be a depth and width to that river that may never be able to be spanned.
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03/10/2006, 18:42
I needed to make a cord for a hood, and made myself a french bobbin knitter. That made, I had to remember how to use it. I tried for about ten minutes, then reached for my laptop. Sure enough I found instructions and was soon pulling an ever-increasing length from beneath the bobbin. It brought back memories of doing that self-same task as a youngster at home and in school.
Further memories were sparked, as an e-mail I had sent off earlier today was responded to. I had been struggling to remember the names of teachers at my Renfrew primary school. A classmate, contacted through Friends Reunited, supplied the missing information.
Isn't the internet a fantastic aide memoire?!?!
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02/10/2006, 23:42
I remember writing a piece after the killings at Dunblane primary school entitled 'Evil visited us today'. I'm reminded of that piece as yet another atrocity is meted out to innocents.A community of people who sought only peace and practised only love for each other, has been brutally brought firmly into this world that we share. Evil found its way into that school and left its mark, just as Hamilton did in Dunblane.
There is good and there is evil.I used to believe that there was greater good than evil, now I'm not so sure. The balance seems to have swung too far in the wrong direction and our world is out of kilter.
My thoughts and prayers are with that devastated community of amish people who are trying to come to terms with the tragedy of today.
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01/10/2006, 21:59
Warm sunshine spilled welcome rays into a day where birds chorused from treetops.Walkers in short sleeves let their dogs explore the shoreline without leads, splashing into the bluest of water to rescue the stick that was thrown. And rescue it they did, returning with tails wagging and coats splashing enthusiastically, wanting more.
It was a gentle day, a day of quiet contentment, a day to sit and enjoy the movement of boats across water calm as a millpond.
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