Mrs Duck Week
It is Mrs Duck week on Scaryduck, in honour of my beloved's *cough* somethingty-somethingth birthday this Thursday. You might wish to make her happy - and take her mind off the fact that she's married to me - by getting her something luv-er-ly off her Amazon wish list. Ah, go on. She's here all week. Staring at you. Evil duck-killer woman.
Be nice to Mrs Duck. Because she'll kill me to death otherwise.
Genie-ology in a Bottle
The charming, luscious, pouting Mrs Duck has spent a number of years researching her family tree. She's got plenty to go on. When we got married, we had to limit her side of the family to the first 100 that showed up with a decent present. Of my side, there were twelve of us.
Despite the swarms of aunts, uncles and cousins, by God she's got it easy. Her family is full of rare and unique surnames, all of which originate from a five square mile area just outside Winchester. Absolom. Dollery. Schooner. Names that jump out at you from the parish records because, simply, they are the only ones.
When the ancestors decided to travel, the really went for it: the Isle of Wight, which is where the Humble branch of the family originates.
Humble? Can it be? I wouldn't be surprised. She's already got R. Gervais, actor Joe Absolom and Come Dancing's Ian Waite falling out of her family tree, whilst the most famous person in my family is some idiot who sells a book about shitting in a plastic bag in his garden shed.
While Mrs Duck manages to get herself back to about 1780 without having to leave the front room what with her none-more-easy family tree growing in a small village in Hampshire, what of my researches?
I got back to my grandmother. Name of Smith. From London. 1913. I give up.