I don’t mention her often, but this post mostly centres around my ‘maternal’ grandmother.

Don’t let the name confuse you, by the way. I mean that she is my mother’s mother, rather than a snuggly, pleasant old woman who bakes a lot and bustles rather than walks. Snuggly or not however, she’s an incredibly admirable lady. I’m told that when her husband died, she made the conscious decision not to be a grieving widow and took up disco-dancing classes instead.*

Anyhows, a while ago she was approached by someone researching their family tree. It turned out that there was a connection  through her father – my great-grandfather – and since then, Grandma and her long-lost cousin** have been keeping one another informed regarding genealogical discoveries. Recently, said cousin got in touch to say that she’d found out we’re related to Jack Crawford, of The Battle of Camperdown fame.

Being as disinterested as I am in any history between Henry VIII and 1850, I had no idea who this sailer was, or indeed, that there had ever been a battle at Camperdown. If I’m honest, I’d never even heard of it until I discovered some obscure relative apparently did something heroic there. Anyway – according to wikipedia,  Crawford ensured that the enemy didn’t mistake a falling flag for surrender by nailing said flag to the mast. Then spent the rest of his life drunk.

It’s got me interested in researching my family tree again so I took out an old notebook and began writing down the information I have. Which, as it is next to nothing, didn’t take all that long.

The internet stepped up to the mark. Only, as is always the case with the internet, I ended up procrastinating and came across my newest addiction: Scandinavia and the World. I don’t know if it’s funny when you’re not familiar with Nordic stereotypes but it’s had me cackling aloud like a crazy woman many a time. Which Bub doesn’t seem to like.

A bit of a convoluted, not saying very much sort of post, but it has taken me two days of sporadic intervals to type all this up. Between washing nappies and joining the National Trust, I haven’t had a great deal of time. I have, however


*He died at 49 before I was a twinkle in my daddy’s eye, so to speak. This being the case, I can not vouch for this story being accurate.

**I don’t know what the relationship actually is… As I said, there’s not been a huge amount of contact there.