I was talking today to the long suffering missus about family origins.
I think how it started was after my daily phone call to my mother.
I don’t know what it is but the older they get, the more elaborate the stories are of what I’d never heard before.
You know…
Really!!!... Never in this world

Will we ever know if it was just a fanciful thought?

My Mum came from Whitby and she recalls her father coming home at night singing
What she now realises were of the intoxicated sort of sea shanty.
Never the less she tells tales of keeping the candles lit at night to keep the rodents away and her times spent in the nunnery, sent there because of illness.

Could be a romantic novel in the making.

I have attempted before to do some sort of family tree without a lot of success.
Seems I’m probably descended from some goat herder or peasant just missing out on the dunking stool or the communal burning.

Being a quiet sort of thing the missuses never say’s too much but I was aware of a little heritage to her family.
After not too much trouble found in 1065 the first mention the year before the fateful day of our king Harold her relative John Talbot the Earl of Shrewsbury was having a whale of time doing the slap and tickle of the wenches and looking for that elusive dragon.
Even though there still is an Earl the family line is pretty diluted so I’m not holding my breath for a slice of the Earldom.
Probably more chance of me getting burned as a witch.