“Some of us will be long forgotten before we are even dead. Most will never be remembered at all, not even by family.”
In my family, the chances of being forgotten are rather slim, even for the unfortunate members of my clan who would sooner forget the existence of those who float around in the same gene pool; however, this blog isn’t for them, it’s for me and hopefully for you too, dear reader!
Although I have been properly researching the history of my family since 2004, my interest in the gnarled twigs and broken branches of my family tree began in the early teenage years and having always been a diligent hoarder of the scraps of family keepsakes that have come my way; the process of moving abode as I did over a year ago with a return to my hometown of York was undoubtedly made all the more arduous by those numerous large boxes of papers, books, photographs and other assorted genealogical matter that I had to shift down and up several sets of stairs.
And during the course of this year and as I have been adding to my research into the life of Tuesday’s Child; my great-aunt Clarice Tibbett who died by her own hand in the summer of 1962; my interest has been piqued as of late by the other female ‘greats’ within my clan that I have now discovered and the Yorkshire lasses who have made a welcome reappearance.
For with the death of both my maternal grandmother and paternal grandmother last year and my mother’s ailing health, my feelings of nostalgia have been triggered once more and the floors of my den are now littered with the fruits of my genealogical findings.
And as I had decided that as I would go in search of this female line of my family, I would share my musings, mishaps and occasional mastery on my other blog under the aptly named label The Female of the Species!
Not that I believe that my female ancestors were actually deadlier than their male counterparts; but there has certainly been an unbroken thread of the narky characteristic woven throughout the successive generations culminating in the wick Yorkshire lass that I know I can be!
And as I have never been known to refuse a strong mug of Yorkshire ‘brew’, I shall bid you adieu for now…