Genealogy Series: Bigamy, Adultery and Murder - Talk to Scottish Genealogy Society

Transcription to follow.

Comments

Nature's gems

It can get a wee bit confusing as to what day it is when my schedule for each day is essentially similar. And for other people who can work at home and choose their own timetable, I guess it will be similar. I do know today is Sunday, because the newspapers whose web sites I am reading are, mostly, Sunday papers. But just as the variety and number of newspapers has significantly changed over the years, so too has the degree to which the "Sundays" are differentiated from papers published on other days. They are thinner for one thing. That goes for almost all our news media. It's not simply the focus on COVID-19, quite properly and necessarily, but the paucity of stories on other subjects. I guess in part that is because there is less going on. But it is likely that the inability of journalists to go out and hunt down new stories is shrinking the news agenda as well. A reminder of how much we need their profession. When I was a student in the 1960s, I stayed in...

Junior Chef and Dish Dryer

I first engaged with the most primitive cooking when at Boy Scout camp. We threw a raw onion into the fire, removed it when well burnt, peeled the black bits of the exterior, ate the all but raw interior. Lesson learned. Cooking is a wee bit more than simply the application of heat to potentially nutritious raw material. I even managed to win the cookery award at an inter-troop camping competition a few years later. Less of an achievement than it sounds as my main rival Iain - an accomplished master of the camp oven, a tin buried under a fire - had burnt his much-anticipated bacon and egg pie. Like in Government, at home a female - my spouse - is offering guidance on how I should deal with social distancing. And just as I am listening to the wise words of the First Minister and the Chief Medical Officer, - keep your distance, don't panic buy, no pub nights - I accept without argument the idea that two nights a week are mine to cook for. Brave, brave. But help is at hand...

A sad farewell

Have been caught by my own writings today. Yesterday I discussed preparing for the unexpected. It is 1700 hours, and this is me just sitting down to write today's notes. They will be rather shorter as well as much later than ever before. Why? After a week in the south, the return journey went fairly well albeit having to leave at 0715 for the four-hour drive up the A9 and then across from Aviemore to Keith and then home, was rather earlier than I would wish. During the journey, several text messages came in. I have previously written about how smart the little three-year-old Honda that I got last December is. A prompt comes up to say that the phone has had a text message. A press of a button and it reads it out. A very welcome message that my god-daughter Darcey made a successful transition from home to school. And thoroughly enjoyed doing so. Mum, on the other hand, is finding that the ergonomics of the kitchen, otherwise known as the office, is fighting her off via the gif...

Search This Blog