Roots, shoots and stories

Looking back from a future I will never know, what will my descendants know about ME? I will have left quite a substantial family tree for immediate future generations, if they are able to access it, so they will know that at the very least I was the family historian/storyteller. My children know quite a bit about my early life and we are close, so I feel they know me well. If they have children, will they pass on what they know? Will their children even be interested? And as for generations after that, the immediate knowledge will diminish and may even be lost sooner than I think. I can't start to imagine the amount of information I could have had even about my own parents had I thought to ask them while I still could, never mind my grandparents or great grandparents. Lives all gone, lifetimes forgotten. And what have I discovered about MYSELF in doing this #52ancestors challenge? I have learned that I like the discipline of 'having to' produce a piece of writing on a give

 Growing up I knew I had lots of cousins. I was also a bit confused as to why a lot of the ones on my dad's side of the family had the same name. I am Christine, but I had four cousins called Christina. It was only later on, I realised we had all been named after my dad's mum, Christina Barr Walker, with all of us being given middle names of Barr or Walker or both.  I didn't get to know these cousins well as they were all so much older than me. My dad had been the youngest of the twelve children my grandparents had and these twelve children's births spanned 26 years. The eldest of my 'Christina' cousins, Christina Walker Clinton, was born in 1917 - making her 40 years old when I was born! The other three were born in 1922, 1930 and 1932! Christina (Chrissie) Clinton's sons (my first cousins once removed)  were born in 1936 and 1938 - so, despite being a generation of a difference, they were also 'too old' for me to get to know, although I was a flowe

I have already written about my 3 x great uncle, James McAra, who was sentenced to deportation at the High Court in Edinburgh in 1811. His crime had been to attack his brother, my 3 x great grandfather, Alexander, with an iron bar during an argument, with Alexander being badly hurt and dying a few days later. James was an iron worker by trade in Scotland and continued this trade in the small town of Sorell in Tasmania.  We cannot know much about the life he led in Sorell, but he is mentioned in a variety of documents. For example we know he was given a Free Pardon by the Governor of Tasmania and New South Wales in 1836. He also acquired some land in 1839, which, in his Will, he left to daughters of a friend. We know his affection for 'drink', which had led to the fatal fight back in Scotland, never left him as 'excessive drinking' was given as cause of death on his death certificate. However his tombstone bears witness to the fact he was well-liked and a 'good and h

My friends and family know I enjoy baking. I grew up watching my mum baking every week. She baked for the family, of course, but she also baked for the church, for the bowling club and even for my own school events when I was a teacher. She seemed to love producing cakes, cupcakes, traybakes, pies.. not just a few a a time, but dozens - enough to fill a baker's wooden tray.  She had worked in a baker's shop before she got married and her own mother, my grandmother, had had a love of baking too. It was something that obviously got passed on to her and then to me.  I remember that every Hallowe'en, she would bake a 'clootie dumpling' - a steamed fruit 'pudding' wrapped in cloth. Inside the dumpling she would have wrapped small coins or trinkets in grease proof paper and it was always great fun to see if the slice that was cut for you had a wrapped coin in it. Nowadays that would contravene 'Health and Safety'! For Christmas too, she would bake her Chri