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  • #6344
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      The Tetbury Riots

       

      While researching the Tetbury riots  (I had found some Browning names in the newspaper archives in association with the uprisings) I came across an article called “Elizabeth Parker, the Swing Riots, and the Tetbury parish clerk” by Jill Evans.

      I noted the name of the parish clerk, Daniel Cole, because I know someone else of that name. The incident in the article was 1830.

      I found the 1826 marriage in the Tetbury parish registers (where Daniel was the parish clerk) of my 4x great grandmothers sister Hesther Lock. One of the witnesses was her brother Charles, and the other was Daniel Cole, the parish clerk.

      Marriage of Lewin Chandler and Hesther Lock in 1826:

      Daniel Cole witness

       

      from the article:

      “The Swing Riots were disturbances which took place in 1830 and 1831, mostly in the southern counties of England. Agricultural labourers, who were already suffering due to low wages and a lack of work after several years of bad harvests, rose up when their employers introduced threshing machines into their workplaces. The riots got their name from the threatening letters which were sent to farmers and other employers, which were signed “Captain Swing.”

      The riots spread into Gloucestershire in November 1830, with the Tetbury area seeing the worst of the disturbances. Amongst the many people arrested afterwards was one woman, Elizabeth Parker. She has sometimes been cited as one of only two females who were transported for taking part in the Swing Riots. In fact, she was sentenced to be transported for this crime, but never sailed, as she was pardoned a few months after being convicted. However, less than a year after being released from Gloucester Gaol, she was back, awaiting trial for another offence. The circumstances in both of the cases she was tried for reveal an intriguing relationship with one Daniel Cole, parish clerk and assistant poor law officer in Tetbury….

      ….Elizabeth Parker was committed to Gloucester Gaol on 4 December 1830. In the Gaol Registers, she was described as being 23 and a “labourer”. She was in fact a prostitute, and she was unusual for the time in that she could read and write. She was charged on the oaths of Daniel Cole and others with having been among a mob which destroyed a threshing machine belonging to Jacob Hayward, at his farm in Beverstone, on 26 November.

      …..Elizabeth Parker was granted royal clemency in July 1831 and was released from prison. She returned to Tetbury and presumably continued in her usual occupation, but on 27 March 1832, she was committed to Gloucester Gaol again. This time, she was charged with stealing 2 five pound notes, 5 sovereigns and 5 half sovereigns, from the person of Daniel Cole.

      Elizabeth was tried at the Lent Assizes which began on 28 March, 1832. The details of her trial were reported in the Morning Post. Daniel Cole was in the “Boat Inn” (meaning the Boot Inn, I think) in Tetbury, when Elizabeth Parker came in. Cole “accompanied her down the yard”, where he stayed with her for about half an hour. The next morning, he realised that all his money was gone. One of his five pound notes was identified by him in a shop, where Parker had bought some items.

      Under cross-examination, Cole said he was the assistant overseer of the poor and collector of public taxes of the parish of Tetbury. He was married with one child. He went in to the inn at about 9 pm, and stayed about 2 hours, drinking in the parlour, with the landlord, Elizabeth Parker, and two others. He was not drunk, but he was “rather fresh.” He gave the prisoner no money. He saw Elizabeth Parker next morning at the Prince and Princess public house. He didn’t drink with her or give her any money. He did give her a shilling after she was committed. He never said that he would not have prosecuted her “if it was not for her own tongue”. (Presumably meaning he couldn’t trust her to keep her mouth shut.)”

      Contemporary illustration of the Swing riots:

      Swing Riots

       

      Captain Swing was the imaginary leader agricultural labourers who set fire to barns and haystacks in the southern and eastern counties of England from 1830. Although the riots were ruthlessly put down (19 hanged, 644 imprisoned and 481 transported), the rural agitation led the new Whig government to establish a Royal Commission on the Poor Laws and its report provided the basis for the 1834 New Poor Law enacted after the Great Reform Bills of 1833.

      An original portrait of Captain Swing hand coloured lithograph circa 1830:

      Captain Swing

      #6281
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        The Measham Thatchers

        Orgills, Finches and Wards

        Measham is a large village in north west Leicestershire, England, near the Derbyshire, Staffordshire and Warwickshire boundaries. Our family has a penchant for border straddling, and the Orgill’s of Measham take this a step further living on the boundaries of four counties.  Historically it was in an exclave of Derbyshire absorbed into Leicestershire in 1897, so once again we have two sets of county records to search.

        ORGILL

        Richard Gretton, the baker of Swadlincote and my great grandmother Florence Nightingale Grettons’ father, married Sarah Orgill (1840-1910) in 1861.

        (Incidentally, Florence Nightingale Warren nee Gretton’s first child Hildred born in 1900 had the middle name Orgill. Florence’s brother John Orgill Gretton emigrated to USA.)

        When they first married, they lived with Sarah’s widowed mother Elizabeth in Measham.  Elizabeth Orgill is listed on the 1861 census as a farmer of two acres.

        Sarah Orgill’s father Matthew Orgill (1798-1859) was a thatcher, as was his father Matthew Orgill (1771-1852).

        Matthew Orgill the elder left his property to his son Henry:

        Matthew Orgills will

         

        Sarah’s mother Elizabeth (1803-1876) was also an Orgill before her marriage to Matthew.

        According to Pigot & Co’s Commercial Directory for Derbyshire, in Measham in 1835 Elizabeth Orgill was a straw bonnet maker, an ideal occupation for a thatchers wife.

        Matthew Orgill, thatcher, is listed in White’s directory in 1857, and other Orgill’s are mentioned in Measham:

        Mary Orgill, straw hat maker; Henry Orgill, grocer; Daniel Orgill, painter; another Matthew Orgill is a coal merchant and wheelwright. Likewise a number of Orgill’s are listed in the directories for Measham in the subsequent years, as farmers, plumbers, painters, grocers, thatchers, wheelwrights, coal merchants and straw bonnet makers.

         

        Matthew and Elizabeth Orgill, Measham Baptist church:

        Orgill grave

         

        According to a history of thatching, for every six or seven thatchers appearing in the 1851 census there are now less than one.  Another interesting fact in the history of thatched roofs (via thatchinginfo dot com):

        The Watling Street Divide…
        The biggest dividing line of all, that between the angular thatching of the Northern and Eastern traditions and the rounded Southern style, still roughly follows a very ancient line; the northern section of the old Roman road of Watling Street, the modern A5. Seemingly of little significance today; this was once the border between two peoples. Agreed in the peace treaty, between the Saxon King Alfred and Guthrum, the Danish Viking leader; over eleven centuries ago.
        After making their peace, various Viking armies settled down, to the north and east of the old road; firstly, in what was known as The Danelaw and later in Norse kingdoms, based in York. They quickly formed a class of farmers and peasants. Although the Saxon kings soon regained this area; these people stayed put. Their influence is still seen, for example, in the widespread use of boarded gable ends, so common in Danish thatching.
        Over time, the Southern and Northern traditions have slipped across the old road, by a few miles either way. But even today, travelling across the old highway will often bring the differing thatching traditions quickly into view.

        Pear Tree Cottage, Bosworth Road, Measham. 1900.  Matthew Orgill was a thatcher living on Bosworth road.

        Bosworth road

         

        FINCH

        Matthew the elder married Frances Finch 1771-1848, also of Measham.  On the 1851 census Matthew is an 80 year old thatcher living with his daughter Mary and her husband Samuel Piner, a coal miner.

        Henry Finch 1743- and Mary Dennis 1749- , both of Measham, were Frances parents.  Henry’s father was also Henry Finch, born in 1707 in Measham, and he married Frances Ward, also born in 1707, and also from Measham.

        WARD

         

        The ancient boundary between the kingdom of Mercia and the Danelaw

        I didn’t find much information on the history of Measham, but I did find a great deal of ancient history on the nearby village of Appleby Magna, two miles away.  The parish records indicate that the Ward and Finch branches of our family date back to the 1500’s in the village, and we can assume that the ancient history of the neighbouring village would be relevant to our history.

        There is evidence of human settlement in Appleby from the early Neolithic period, 6,000 years ago, and there are also Iron Age and Bronze Age sites in the vicinity.  There is evidence of further activity within the village during the Roman period, including evidence of a villa or farm and a temple.  Appleby is near three known Roman roads: Watling Street, 10 miles south of the village; Bath Lane, 5 miles north of the village; and Salt Street, which forms the parish’s south boundary.

        But it is the Scandinavian invasions that are particularly intriguing, with regard to my 58% Scandinavian DNA (and virtually 100% Midlands England ancestry). Repton is 13 miles from Measham. In the early 10th century Chilcote, Measham and Willesley were part of the royal Derbyshire estate of Repton.

        The arrival of Scandinavian invaders in the second half of the ninth century caused widespread havoc throughout northern England. By the AD 870s the Danish army was occupying Mercia and it spent the winter of 873-74 at Repton, the headquarters of the Mercian kings. The events are recorded in detail in the Peterborough manuscript of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicles…

        Although the Danes held power for only 40 years, a strong, even subversive, Danish element remained in the population for many years to come. 

        A Scandinavian influence may also be detected among the field names of the parish. Although many fields have relatively modern names, some clearly have elements which reach back to the time of Danish incursion and control.

        The Borders:

        The name ‘aeppel byg’ is given in the will of Wulfic Spot of AD 1004……………..The decision at Domesday to include this land in Derbyshire, as one of Burton Abbey’s Derbyshire manors, resulted in the division of the village of Appleby Magna between the counties of Leicester and Derby for the next 800 years

        Richard Dunmore’s Appleby Magma website.

        This division of Appleby between Leicestershire and Derbyshire persisted from Domesday until 1897, when the recently created county councils (1889) simplified the administration of many villages in this area by a radical realignment of the boundary:

        Appleby

         

        I would appear that our family not only straddle county borders, but straddle ancient kingdom borders as well.  This particular branch of the family (we assume, given the absence of written records that far back) were living on the edge of the Danelaw and a strong element of the Danes survives to this day in my DNA.

         

        #6276
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Ellastone and Mayfield
          Malkins and Woodwards
          Parish Registers

           

          Jane Woodward


          It’s exciting, as well as enormously frustrating, to see so many Woodward’s in the Ellastone parish registers, and even more so because they go back so far. There are parish registers surviving from the 1500’s: in one, dated 1579, the death of Thomas Woodward was recorded. His father’s name was Humfrey.

          Jane Woodward married Rowland Malkin in 1751, in Thorpe, Ashbourne. Jane was from Mathfield (also known as Mayfield), Ellastone, on the Staffordshire side of the river Dove. Rowland was from Clifton, Ashbourne, on the Derbyshire side of the river. They were neighbouring villages, but in different counties.

          Jane Woodward was born in 1726 according to the marriage transcription. No record of the baptism can be found for her, despite there having been at least four other Woodward couples in Ellastone and Mayfield baptizing babies in the 1720’s and 1730’s.  Without finding out the baptism with her parents names on the parish register, it’s impossible to know which is the correct line to follow back to the earlier records.

          I found a Mayfield history group on Facebook and asked if there were parish records existing that were not yet online. A member responded that she had a set on microfiche and had looked through the relevant years and didn’t see a Jane Woodward, but she did say that some of the pages were illegible.

          The Ellasone parish records from the 1500s surviving at all, considering the events in 1673, is remarkable. To be so close, but for one indecipherable page from the 1700s, to tracing the family back to the 1500s! The search for the connecting link to the earlier records continues.

          Some key events in the history of parish registers from familysearch:

          In medieval times there were no parish registers. For some years before the Reformation, monastic houses (especially the smaller ones) the parish priest had been developing the custom of noting in an album or on the margins of the service books, the births and deaths of the leading local families.
          1538 – Through the efforts of Thomas Cromwell a mandate was issued by Henry VIII to keep parish registers. This order that every parson, vicar or curate was to enter in a book every wedding, christening and burial in his parish. The parish was to provide a sure coffer with two locks, the parson having the custody of one key, the wardens the others. The entries were to be made each Sunday after the service in the presence of one of the wardens.
          1642-60 – During the Civil War registers were neglected and Bishop Transcripts were not required.
          1650 – In the restoration of Charles they went back to the church to keep christenings, marriages and burial. The civil records that were kept were filed in with the parish in their registers. it is quite usual to find entries explaining the situation during the Interregnum. One rector stated that on 23 April 1643 “Our church was defaced our font thrown down and new forms of prayer appointed”. Another minister not quite so bold wrote “When the war, more than a civil war was raging most grimly between royalists and parliamentarians throughout the greatest part of England, I lived well because I lay low”.
          1653 – Cromwell, whose army had defeated the Royalists, was made Lord Protector and acted as king. He was a Puritan. The parish church of England was disorganized, many ministers fled for their lives, some were able to hide their registers and other registers were destroyed. Cromwell ruled that there would be no one religion in England all religions could be practiced. The government took away from the ministers not only the custody of the registers, but even the solemnization of the marriage ceremony. The marriage ceremony was entrusted to the justices to form a new Parish Register (not Registrar) elected by all the ratepayers in a parish, and sworn before and approved by a magistrate.. Parish clerks of the church were made a civil parish clerk and they recorded deaths, births and marriages in the civil parishes.

           

          Ellastone:

          “Ellastone features as ‘Hayslope’ in George Eliot’s Adam Bede, published in 1859. It earned this recognition because the author’s father spent the early part of his life in the village working as a carpenter.”

          Adam Bede Cottage, Ellastone:

          Ellasone Adam Bede

          “It was at Ellastone that Robert Evans, George Eliot’s father, passed his early years and worked as a carpenter with his brother Samuel; and it was partly from reminiscences of her father’s talk and from her uncle Samuel’s wife’s preaching experiences that the author constructed the very powerful and moving story of Adam Bede.”

           

          Mary Malkin

          1765-1838

          Ellen Carrington’s mother was Mary Malkin.

          Ellastone:

          Ellastone

           

           

           

          Ashbourn the 31st day of May in the year of our Lord 1751.  The marriage of Rowland Malkin and Jane Woodward:

          Rowland Malkin marriage 1751

          #6259
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            George “Mike” Rushby

            A short autobiography of George Gilman Rushby’s son, published in the Blackwall Bugle, Australia.

            Early in 2009, Ballina Shire Council Strategic and
            Community Services Group Manager, Steve Barnier,
            suggested that it would be a good idea for the Wardell
            and District community to put out a bi-monthly
            newsletter. I put my hand up to edit the publication and
            since then, over 50 issues of “The Blackwall Bugle”
            have been produced, encouraged by Ballina Shire
            Council who host the newsletter on their website.
            Because I usually write the stories that other people
            generously share with me, I have been asked by several
            community members to let them know who I am. Here is
            my attempt to let you know!

            My father, George Gilman Rushby was born in England
            in 1900. An Electrician, he migrated to Africa as a young
            man to hunt and to prospect for gold. He met Eleanor
            Dunbar Leslie who was a high school teacher in Cape
            Town. They later married in Dar es Salaam, Tanganyika.
            I was the second child and first son and was born in a
            mud hut in Tanganyika in 1933. I spent my first years on
            a coffee plantation. When four years old, and with
            parents and elder sister on a remote goldfield, I caught
            typhoid fever. I was seriously ill and had no access to
            proper medical facilities. My paternal grandmother
            sailed out to Africa from England on a steam ship and
            took me back to England for medical treatment. My
            sister Ann came too. Then Adolf Hitler started WWII and
            Ann and I were separated from our parents for 9 years.

            Sister Ann and I were not to see him or our mother for
            nine years because of the war. Dad served as a Captain in
            the King’s African Rifles operating in the North African
            desert, while our Mum managed the coffee plantation at
            home in Tanganyika.

            Ann and I lived with our Grandmother and went to
            school in Nottingham England. In 1946 the family was
            reunited. We lived in Mbeya in Southern Tanganyika
            where my father was then the District Manager of the
            National Parks and Wildlife Authority. There was no
            high school in Tanganyika so I had to go to school in
            Nairobi, Kenya. It took five days travelling each way by
            train and bus including two days on a steamer crossing
            Lake Victoria.

            However, the school year was only two terms with long
            holidays in between.

            When I was seventeen, I left high school. There was
            then no university in East Africa. There was no work
            around as Tanganyika was about to become
            independent of the British Empire and become
            Tanzania. Consequently jobs were reserved for
            Africans.

            A war had broken out in Korea. I took a day off from
            high school and visited the British Army headquarters
            in Nairobi. I signed up for military service intending to
            go to Korea. The army flew me to England. During
            Army basic training I was nicknamed ‘Mike’ and have
            been called Mike ever since. I never got to Korea!
            After my basic training I volunteered for the Parachute
            Regiment and the army sent me to Egypt where the
            Suez Canal was under threat. I carried out parachute
            operations in the Sinai Desert and in Cyprus and
            Jordan. I was then selected for officer training and was
            sent to England to the Eaton Hall Officer Cadet School
            in Cheshire. Whilst in Cheshire, I met my future wife
            Jeanette. I graduated as a Second Lieutenant in the
            Royal Lincolnshire Regiment and was posted to West
            Berlin, which was then one hundred miles behind the
            Iron Curtain. My duties included patrolling the
            demarcation line that separated the allies from the
            Russian forces. The Berlin Wall was yet to be built. I
            also did occasional duty as guard commander of the
            guard at Spandau Prison where Adolf Hitler’s deputy
            Rudolf Hess was the only prisoner.

            From Berlin, my Regiment was sent to Malaya to
            undertake deep jungle operations against communist
            terrorists that were attempting to overthrow the
            Malayan Government. I was then a Lieutenant in
            command of a platoon of about 40 men which would go
            into the jungle for three weeks to a month with only air
            re-supply to keep us going. On completion of my jungle
            service, I returned to England and married Jeanette. I
            had to stand up throughout the church wedding
            ceremony because I had damaged my right knee in a
            competitive cross-country motorcycle race and wore a
            splint and restrictive bandage for the occasion!
            At this point I took a career change and transferred
            from the infantry to the Royal Military Police. I was in
            charge of the security of British, French and American
            troops using the autobahn link from West Germany to
            the isolated Berlin. Whilst in Germany and Austria I
            took up snow skiing as a sport.

            Jeanette and I seemed to attract unusual little
            adventures along the way — each adventure trivial in
            itself but adding up to give us a ‘different’ path through
            life. Having climbed Mount Snowdon up the ‘easy way’
            we were witness to a serious climbing accident where a
            member of the staff of a Cunard Shipping Line
            expedition fell and suffered serious injury. It was
            Sunday a long time ago. The funicular railway was
            closed. There was no telephone. So I ran all the way
            down Mount Snowdon to raise the alarm.

            On a road trip from Verden in Germany to Berlin with
            our old Opel Kapitan motor car stacked to the roof with
            all our worldly possessions, we broke down on the ice and snow covered autobahn. We still had a hundred kilometres to go.

            A motorcycle patrolman flagged down a B-Double
            tanker. He hooked us to the tanker with a very short tow
            cable and off we went. The truck driver couldn’t see us
            because we were too close and his truck threw up a
            constant deluge of ice and snow so we couldn’t see
            anyway. We survived the hundred kilometre ‘sleigh
            ride!’

            I then went back to the other side of the world where I
            carried out military police duties in Singapore and
            Malaya for three years. I took up scuba diving and
            loved the ocean. Jeanette and I, with our two little
            daughters, took a holiday to South Africa to see my
            parents. We sailed on a ship of the Holland-Afrika Line.
            It broke down for four days and drifted uncontrollably
            in dangerous waters off the Skeleton Coast of Namibia
            until the crew could get the ship’s motor running again.
            Then, in Cape Town, we were walking the beach near
            Hermanus with my youngest brother and my parents,
            when we found the dead body of a man who had thrown
            himself off a cliff. The police came and secured the site.
            Back with the army, I was promoted to Major and
            appointed Provost Marshal of the ACE Mobile Force
            (Allied Command Europe) with dual headquarters in
            Salisbury, England and Heidelberg, Germany. The cold
            war was at its height and I was on operations in Greece,
            Denmark and Norway including the Arctic. I had
            Norwegian, Danish, Italian and American troops in my
            unit and I was then also the Winter Warfare Instructor
            for the British contingent to the Allied Command
            Europe Mobile Force that operated north of the Arctic
            Circle.

            The reason for being in the Arctic Circle? From there
            our special forces could look down into northern
            Russia.

            I was not seeing much of my two young daughters. A
            desk job was looming my way and I decided to leave
            the army and migrate to Australia. Why Australia?
            Well, I didn’t want to go back to Africa, which
            seemed politically unstable and the people I most
            liked working with in the army, were the Australian
            troops I had met in Malaya.

            I migrated to Brisbane, Australia in 1970 and started
            working for Woolworths. After management training,
            I worked at Garden City and Brookside then became
            the manager in turn of Woolworths stores at
            Paddington, George Street and Redcliff. I was also the
            first Director of FAUI Queensland (The Federation of
            Underwater Diving Instructors) and spent my spare
            time on the Great Barrier Reef. After 8 years with
            Woollies, I opted for a sea change.

            I moved with my family to Evans Head where I
            converted a convenience store into a mini
            supermarket. When IGA moved into town, I decided
            to take up beef cattle farming and bought a cattle
            property at Collins Creek Kyogle in 1990. I loved
            everything about the farm — the Charolais cattle, my
            horses, my kelpie dogs, the open air, fresh water
            creek, the freedom, the lifestyle. I also became a
            volunteer fire fighter with the Green Pigeon Brigade.
            In 2004 I sold our farm and moved to Wardell.
            My wife Jeanette and I have been married for 60 years
            and are now retired. We have two lovely married
            daughters and three fine grandchildren. We live in the
            greatest part of the world where we have been warmly
            welcomed by the Wardell community and by the
            Wardell Brigade of the Rural Fire Service. We are
            very happy here.

            Mike Rushby

            A short article sent to Jacksdale in England from Mike Rushby in Australia:

            Rushby Family

            #6246
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Florence Nightingale Gretton

              1881-1927

              Florence’s father was Richard Gretton, a baker in Swadlincote, Derbyshire. When Richard married Sarah Orgill in 1861, they lived with her mother, a widow, in Measham, Ashby de la Zouch in Leicestershire. On the 1861 census Sarah’s mother, Elizabeth, is a farmer of two acres.

              (Swadlincote and Ashby de la Zouch are on the Derbyshire Leicestershire border and not far from each other. Swadlincote is near to Burton upon Trent which is sometimes in Staffordshire, sometimes in Derbyshire. Newhall, Church Gresley, and Swadlincote are all very close to each other or districts in the same town.)

              Ten years later in 1871 Richard and Sarah have their own place in Swadlincote, he is a baker, and they have four children. A fourteen year old apprentice or servant is living with them.

              In the Ashby-de-la-Zouch Gazette on 28 February 1880, it was reported that Richard Gretton, baker, of Swadlincote, was charged by Captain Bandys with carrying bread in a cart for sale, the said cart not being provided with scales and weights, according to the requirements of the Act, on the 17th January last.—Defendant pleaded guilty, but urged in extenuation of the offence that in the hurry he had forgotten to put the scales in the cart before his son started.—The Bench took this view of the case, regarding it as an oversight, and fined him one shilling only and costs.  This was not his only offence.

              In 1883, he was fined twenty shillings, and ten shillings and sixpence costs.

              Richard Gretton

              By 1881 they have 4 more children, and Florence Nightingale is the youngest at four months. Richard is 48 by now, and Sarah is 44. Florence’s older brother William is a blacksmith.

              Interestingly on the same census page, two doors down Thomas and Selina Warren live at the Stanhope Arms.  Richards son John Gretton lives at the pub, a 13 year old servant. Incidentally, I noticed on Thomas and Selena’s marriage register that Richard and Sarah Gretton were the witnesses at the wedding.

              Ten years later in 1891, Florence Nightingale and her sister Clara are living with Selina Warren, widow, retired innkeeper, one door down from the Stanhope Arms. Florence is ten, Clara twelve and they are scholars.
              Richard and Sarah are still living three doors up on the other side of the Stanhope Arms, with three of their sons. But the two girls lived up the road with the Warren widow!

              The Stanhope Arms, Swadlincote: it’s possible that the shop with the awning was Richard Gretton’s bakers shop (although not at the time of this later photo).

              Stanhope Arms

               

              Richard died in 1898, a year before Florence married Samuel Warren.

              Sarah is a widowed 60 year old baker on the 1901 census. Her son 26 year old son Alf, also a baker,  lives at the same address, as does her 22 year old daughter Clara who is a district nurse.

              Clara Gretton and family, photo found online:

              Clara Gretton

               

              In 1901 Florence Nightingale (who we don’t have a photograph of!) is now married and is Florrie Warren on the census, and she, her husband Samuel, and their one year old daughter Hildred are visitors at the address of  Elizabeth (Staley)Warren, 60 year old widow and Samuel’s mother, and Samuel’s 36 year old brother William. Samuel and William are engineers.

              Samuel and Florrie had ten children between 1900 and 1925 (and all but two of them used their middle name and not first name: my mother and I had no idea until I found all the records.  My grandmother Florence Noreen was known as Nora, which we knew of course, uncle Jack was actually Douglas John, and so on).

              Hildred, Clara, Billy, and Nora were born in Swadlincote. Sometime between my grandmother’s birth in 1907 and Kay’s birth in 1911, the family moved to Oldswinford, in Stourbridge. Later they moved to Market Street.

              1911 census, Oldswinford, Stourbridge:

              Oldswinford 1911

               

              Oddly, nobody knew when Florrie Warren died. My mothers cousin Ian Warren researched the Warren family some years ago, while my grandmother was still alive. She contributed family stories and information, but couldn’t remember if her mother died in 1929 or 1927.  A recent search of records confirmed that it was the 12th November 1927.

              She was 46 years old. We were curious to know how she died, so my mother ordered a paper copy of her death certificate. It said she died at 31 Market Street, Stourbridge at the age of 47. Clara May Warren, her daughter, was in attendance. Her husband Samuel Warren was a motor mechanic. The Post mortem was by Percival Evans, coroner for Worcestershire, who clarified the cause of death as vascular disease of the heart. There was no inquest. The death was registered on 15 Nov 1927.

              I looked for a photo of 31 Market Street in Stourbridge, and was astonished to see that it was the house next door to one I lived in breifly in the 1980s.  We didn’t know that the Warren’s lived in Market Street until we started searching the records.

              Market Street, Stourbridge. I lived in the one on the corner on the far right, my great grandmother died in the one next door.

              Market Street

               

              I found some hitherto unknown emigrants in the family. Florence Nightingale Grettons eldest brother William 1861-1940 stayed in Swadlincote. John Orgill Gretton born in 1868 moved to Trenton New Jersey USA in 1888, married in 1892 and died in 1949 in USA. Michael Thomas born in 1870 married in New York in 1893 and died in Trenton in 1940. Alfred born 1875 stayed in Swadlincote. Charles Herbert born 1876 married locally and then moved to Australia in 1912, and died in Victoria in 1954. Clara Elizabeth was a district nurse, married locally and died at the age of 99.

              #5655
              prUneprUne
              Participant

                I don’t know if that’s a second youth or what, but getting to that 100 line has put Mater in an energetic frenzy. She’s been putting her things in order, like she said.

                My studies on machine learning and artificial intelligence are keeping me away for now. I’ve been studying hard for that Mars program selection, but it looks like it’s hopeless. Anyway, I had the good idea to put nannycams in all the hidden spots of the Inn. It’s not been as much fun as I’d hoped, spying on Aunt Idle and her manic ramblings. You would think she’s drunk all the time, but for all the recordings, I’d be damned if I’ve caught her yet on tape with a bottle. I guess her body just distills it on its own…

                So, I’ve kept an eye on Mater too; she’s been acting funny at the mention of Jasper. And I found her quick to put a tight lid back on the topic.

                I’m not even mentioning the dubious trails of “Uncles” of late: the Fergus, Basil or otherwise. She’d known quite a few of these in her days, although she’s claimed to have been a paragon of matrimonial virtue, being single woman with kids in these parts must have been rough after she lost Pater.

                I think I finally caught something between all the cloak and dagger mascarades, tatty letters and all. Digital footprint isn’t big, but it may be something tangible to begin with.

                Meanwhile, we’ll have to get started getting the invitation list in order; Mater’s contemporaries are falling by the minute, and Aunt Dido’s braincells are probably dying as fast as that— it won’t be easy to get a complete list. I know I should enlist Devan, I even put him on that family group thing, but he’s not big with all the tech stuff. As for the twins, well… We still have to hear about their stories. At this rate, might be faster to learn to telepathically tack on Dodo’s brainwaves. She says to whomever wants to hear she’s got direct connection to them… Would sound cultish to me, if I didn’t know better about the sisters! I’ll be worried when Mater starts to take this woowoo seriously.

                #5593
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  Was trying to get a basic timeline in place for future reference:

                  • (1935) Birth of Mater
                  • (1958) Mater marries her childhood sweetheart (ref)
                  • (1965) Birth of Fred
                  • (1970) Birth of Aunt Idle
                  • (1978) April 12th, Mater’s husband dies
                  • (1998) Birth of Devan
                  • (2000) Birth of the twins Coriander & Clove
                  • (2008) Birth of Prune
                  • (2014) Start of Prune’s journal about the Inn (she’s 6 at the time – ref)
                  • (2017) visit of Arona, Albie, Maeve, Hilda, Sanso etc. to the Inn
                  • (2020) The year of the Great Fires (ref). Mater is 85. Idle is 50. The twins are 20. Prune is 12.
                  • (2027) First settlers on Mars; Prune’s left for a boarding school to pursue her dreams

                  Fast forward 15 years later

                  • (2035) Idle receives news from the twins (now aged 35) & waterlark adventures.
                    Mater is alive and kicking at 100.

                  Fast forward a little more

                  • (2049) Prune arrives with a commercial flight on Mars, having won a place through a reality show.
                    Mater is deceased. She would have been 114.
                    Little after, the Mars mission is revealed to be an elaborately constructed mass illusion, and the program is terminated via an alien invasion simulation; like the other survivors from the program, she returns to Australia but cannot reveal the details of the program.
                  #4955
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    Aunt Idle:

                    I had a long conversation (in my head, where all the best conversations are these days) with Corrie while I sat on the porch.  I think it’s easier to communicate with her because she’s trying to communicate with me too.  The others don’t come through so clear, I get images but not much in the way of conversation.  Anyway, she said Clove is with her on the raftboat, and that Clove has a little boy now, seven years old or so, named Pan. I don’t know if that’s short for a longer name or if that’s his name. Anyway, he’s a great little diver, she said, can hold his breath for longer than anyone, although lots of the kiddies are good divers now, so she tells me.  They send them out scouting in the underwater ruins. Pan finds all sorts of useful things, especially in the air pockets. They call those kiddies the waterlarks, if I heard that right.  Pan the Waterlark.

                    Corrie said they’re in England, or what used to be called England, before it became a state of the American United States.  Scotland didn’t though, they rebuilt Hadrian’s wall to keep the Ameringlanders out (which is what they called them after America took over), and Wales rebuilt Offa’s Dyke to keep them out too.  When America fell into chaos (not sure what happened there, she didn’t say) it was dire there for years, Corrie said. Food shortages and floods mainly, and hardly any hospitals still functioning.   Corrie delivered Cloves baby herself she said, but I didn’t want all the details, just pleased to hear there were no complications.  Clove was back on her feet in no time in the rice paddies.

                    A great many people left on boats, Corrie said. She didn’t know where they’d gone to.  Most of the Midlands had been flooded for a good few years now. At first the water went up and down and people stayed and kept drying out their homes, but in the end people either left, or built floating homes.  Corrie said it was great living on the water ~ it wasn’t all that deep and they could maneouver around in various ways. It was great sitting on the deck watching all the little waterlarks popping up, proudly showing their finds.

                    I was thoroughly enjoying this chat with Corrie, sitting in the morning sun with my eyes closed, when the sky darkened and the red behind my eyelids turned black.  There was a hot air balloon contraption coming down,  and looked like it was heading for the old Bundy place.   Maybe Finly was back with supplies.  Maybe it was a stranger with news.  Maybe it was Devan.

                    #4954
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Aunt Idle:

                      Bert tells me it’s Christmas day today.  Christmas! I just looked at him blankly when he told me, trying to bring to mind what it used to be like. I can’t remember the last time Christmas was normal. Probably around fifteen years ago, just before the six years of fires started. It’s a wonder we survived, but we did. Even Mater.  God knows how old she is now, maybe Bert knows. He’s the one trying to keep track of the passing of time.   I don’t know what for, he’s well past his sell by date, but seems to cling on no matter what, like Mater. And me I suppose.

                      We lost contact with the outside world over ten years ago (so Bert tells me, I wouldn’t know how long it was).  It was all very strange at first but it’s amazing what you can get used to.  Once you get over expecting it to go back to normal, that is.  It took us a long time to give up on the idea of going back to normal.  But once you do, it changes your perspective.

                      But don’t get me wrong, it hasn’t been all bad.  We haven’t heard anything of the twins, not for a good ten years or more (you’d have to ask Bert how long) but I hear their voices in my head sometimes, and dream of them.  In my dreams they’re always on the water, on a big flat raft boat.  I love it when I dream of them and see all that water. Don’t ask me how, but I know they’re alright.

                      Anyway like I said, it hasn’t been all bad. Vulture meat is pretty tasty if you cook it well.  The vultures did alright with it all, the sky was black with them at times, right after the droughts and the fires. But we don’t eat much these days, funny how you get used to that, too.  We grow mushrooms down in the old mines (Bert’s idea, I don’t know what we’d do without him).  And when the rains came, they were plentiful. More rain than we’d ever seen here.

                      Well I could go on, but like I said, it’s Christmas day according to Bert.  I intend to sit on the porch and try and bring Prune and Devan and the twins to mind and see if I can send them a message.

                      Prune’s been back to see us once (you’d have to ask Bert when it was).  She was on some kind of land sailing contraption, no good asking me what was powering the thing, there’s been no normal fuel for a good long time, none that’s come our way. Any time anyone comes (which is seldom) they come on camels or horses. One young family came passing through on a cart pulled by a cow once.  But Prune came wafting in on some clever thing I’d never seen the likes of before.  She didn’t stay long, she was going back to China, she said.  It was all very different there, she said. Not all back to the dark ages like here, that’s what she said.  But then, we were here in the first place because we liked a quiet simple life. Weren’t we? Hard to remember.

                      #4867

                      In reply to: The Stories So Near

                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        As it happens…

                        POP-IN THREAD (Maeve, Lucinda, Shawn-Paul, Jerk, [Granola])

                        Maeve and Shawn-Paul have left the Inn in Australia to travel to Tikfijikoo. What they are still doing there is anybody’s guess. Might have do with dolls, and rolling with it.

                        In Canada, Lucinda has enrolled in a creative fiction course, and is doing progress… of sorts.

                        Granola managed to escape the red crystal she was trapped in, after it cracked enough due to the pull of her friends’ memories.

                        FLYING FISH INN THREAD (Mater/Finly, Idle/Coriander/Clove, Devan, Prune, [Tiku])

                        The Inn is back to its normal routine, after the bout of flu & collective black-out.

                        Connie and Hilda have come out of the mines.

                        The others, we don’t know.

                        DOLINE THREAD (Arona, Sanso/Lottie, Ugo, Albie)

                        In the Doline, Arona has reunited with Vincentius, but is not ready for a family life of commitments.

                        NEWSREEL THREAD (Ms Bossy, Hilda/Connie, Sophie, Ricardo)

                        Sharon, Gloria and Mavis, are undergoing some cool fun in the cryochambers for beauty treatments.

                        Ms Bossy & Ricardo are speechless. Literally.

                        LIZ THREAD (Finnley, Liz, Roberto, Godfrey)

                        There’s always something happening. Listing it is not the problem, but keeping track is.

                        DRAGONHEARTWOOD THREAD (Glynnis, Eleri, Fox/Gorrash, Rukshan)

                        Rukshan is in the doldrums of the land of Giants’, an unexplored parallel dimension.
                        Gorrash has started to crystallize back to life, but nobody noticed yet.

                        Cackletown & the reSurgence (Bea, Ed Steam & Surge team, etc.)

                        Ed is back to the Cackletown dimension after some reconnaissance job on the whole dolls story interference. Might have spooked Maeve a little, but given the lack of anything surgey, have sort of closed this case and gone back to HQ.

                        #4823
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          Bugger them all then, Lucinda said to herself, I’ll carry on here without them.

                          For a time she had been despondent at being abandoned, sinking into an aching overcast gloom to match the weather. Waiting for it to rain, and then waiting for it to stop.

                          On impulse, in an attempt to snap out of the doldrums, she signed up for a Creative Writing and Rambling course at the local Psychic Self Institute. Institutionalizing psychic matters had been the brainchild of the latest political party to gain power, and hitherto under the radar prophets, healers and remote viewers had flocked to sign up. The institute has promised pension and public health credits to all members who could prove their mental prowess, and needless to say it had attracted many potential scammers: useless nobodies who wanted to heal their diseases, or lazy decrepit old scroungers who wanted to retire.

                          Much to everyone’s surprise, not least their own, the majority of them had passed the tests, simply by winging it: making it up and hoping for the best. Astonishingly the results were more impressive than the results from the already established professional P.H.A.R.T.s ~ (otherwise known as Prophets, Healers and Remote Technicians).

                          This raised questions about the premise of the scheme, and how increasingly difficult it was to establish a criteria for deservingness of pensions and health care, particularly if any untrained and unregistered Tom, Dick or Harry was in possession of superior skills, as appeared to be the case. The debate continues to this day.

                          Nothwithstanding, the Institute continued to offer courses, outings and educational and inspiring talks. The original plan had been to offer qualifications, but the entrance exams had provoked such a quandary about the value and meaning (if any) of qualifications, that the current modus operandi was to simply offer each member, regardless of merit or experience, a simple membership card with a number on it. It was gold coloured and had classical scrolls and lettering on it in an attempt to bestow worth and meaning. Nobody was fooled, but everyone loved it.

                          And everyone loved the tea room at the Institute. It was thought that some cake aficionado’s had even joined the Institute merely for the desserts, but nobody objected. There was a welcome collective energy of pleasure, appreciation and conviviality in the tea room, and it’s magnetic appeal ~ and exceptional cakes ~ ensured it’s popularity and acclaim.

                          A small group had started a campaign to get it placed on the Institutes Energetic Cake Connector mapping programme. As Lucinda had said in a moment of clarity, “A back street bar can be just as much of an energy magnet as an old stone relic”, casting doubt over the M.O.S.S group’s (Mysterious Old Stone Sites) relevance to anything potentially useful.

                          “In fact,” Lucinda continued, surprising herself, ““I’ve only just realized that the energy magnets aren’t going to be secret, hidden and derelict. They’re going to be busy. Like cities.”

                          Several members of the M.O.S.S group had glared at her.

                          Lucinda hadn’t really thought much about what to expect in the creative writing classes.

                          #4814

                          Evangeline rolled her eyes, which was almost as tiresome as Funly explaining the joke, rendering it pointless.

                          #4812

                          “Buns, Ed?” Evangeline said as she burst through the door brandishing a tea tray. “Nice cuppa tea and a bun?”

                          #4781

                          In reply to: The Stories So Near

                          ÉricÉric
                          Keymaster

                            Newest developments

                            POP-IN THREAD (Maeve, Lucinda, Shawn-Paul, Jerk, [Granola])

                            Maeve and Shawn-Paul are travelling separately to the Australian bush, and end up together at the Flying Fish Inn where they discover they’ve been given the same coupons. Maeve is suspicious of a mysterious man following her.
                            Maeve has an exchange with Arona, and sketches her and the cat for her collection of ideas for new dolls. They discover that Arona has the key from her doll.
                            Little is said of what happened after Maeve’s Uncle Fergus appears in dramatic fashion.
                            After the collective black-out, all bets are off as to the next steps.

                            In Canada, Jerk is killing time at the mall, and Lucinda is possibly taking care of Fabio who might be distressed as he’s peeing the doormat regularly.

                            Granola after hopping between threads and realities, detected a psychic blast from the Doctor and while trying to investigate, ended up trapped in a tiny red crystal at the Doctor’s lair.

                            FLYING FISH INN THREAD (Mater/Finly, Idle/Coriander/Clove, Devan, Prune, [Tiku])

                            After the dramatic arrival of Fergus and the guests, some flirting of Sanso and Idle, Mater’s fashion show, Prune has decided to get back to school after an indigestion of medicinal lizard.

                            Some of the guests, namely Connie and Hilda have gone to explore the mines. Possibly with Devan and Bert in tow.

                            Fergus has mysteriously disappeared after the black-out.

                            DOLINE THREAD (Arona, Sanso/Lottie, Ugo, Albie)

                            Arona, Ugo, Albie and Mandrake have left the Australian Inn, after a dramatic chase by unknown assailants, possibly the magpies sent by the Doctor. They reappear in the Doline, in Leörmn’s pool, having managed to get the magpies off their trail.

                            NEWSREEL THREAD (Ms Bossy, Hilda/Connie, Sophie, Ricardo)

                            The Doctor has managed a psychic event of dramatic proportions. He’s noticed a glowing red crystal that seems to have interfered with his machine. He’s starting to study it, and unravel its secrets.

                            Sharon, Gloria and Mavis, the dynamic trio is planning their escape from the nursing home. The psychic blast seems to have alerted Gloria somehow as to the fate of Granola (B), as she somehow guess it’s linked to the Doctor’s experiments (beauty treatments). They plan to go there to investigate (after a fashion).

                            LIZ THREAD (Finnley, Liz, Roberto, Godfrey)

                            Finnley has disappeared, Liz and Godfrey are to fend for themselves.

                            DRAGON 💚 WOOD THREAD (Glynnis, Eleri, Fox/Gorrash, Rukshan)

                            Muriel has left the cottage, and our friends are preparing their travel to the Land of Giant, while some tales are told.
                            Glynnis is teaching bits to a birds’ choir.

                            #4777
                            prUneprUne
                            Participant

                              That was a first. I had no idea what just happened. And believe me, this girl has seen some serious hanky-panky going ‘round here. Starting with Aunt Idle and her hustling and lascivious seducing of the Middle Eastern pirate cosplayer we had as guest.
                              But of course, that was nothing compared to how glamorous Mater looked in her red gabardine.
                              Anyway, something odd happened, like everyone was zapped in a torpor after the Fergus guy arrived. We were all expecting a sort of big reveal, and he did drop some incoherent clues, nothing truly worth the wait sorry to say, so we all went upstairs to sleep.

                              Blame it on the spiced lizard meat maybe, but I can’t figure what happened after that until I woke up. Everyone this morning was playing it by ear, as if everything was normal. But people are missing. Fergus and his motorbike, and the scarf girl with the young boy and their cat. Maybe others, I’ve lost count, and I’m done putting sticky notes for Idle (funny she insists being called that by the way… Maybe a side-effect of her medications).

                              There was an Italian corvette parked outside, all black & white. It arrived during the night, it woke me up when it arrived, but I went back to sleep I think. I wonder if those are new tourist guests. The Canadian guests were a bit in alarm, especially after the Fergus reveals.

                              Mater would tell me, “there is no cause for worry dear, mark my words, in an hour or less, it will all settle back down to the usual deadly boring as usual business.”

                              I think that planned family time was a bit too much anyway. Or too little. Devan hardly spent an hour with us, he’s too obsessed with his lost treasure conspiracies. He’ll be doing great with Dodo and her friends from the journal. I think they all enlisted Bert for a trip to the mines by the way. For all the good it’ll do everyone to try to unearth old secrets. Might give Mater a serious heart attack, for real this time.

                              As for me, I’ve had enough. I’m packing my bags and leaving with the first bus back to the Academy. There’s a mission to Mars to conquer.

                              #4769

                              Aunt Idle:

                              I bet you were expecting reports of action and adventure, a fast paced tale of risks and rescues, with perhaps a little romance. Hah! It’s been like a morgue around here after that fluster of activity and new arrivals. Like everyone lost the wind out of their sails and wondered what they were doing here.

                              Sanso took to his room with no explanation, other than he needed to rest. He wouldn’t let anyone in except Finly with food and drinks (quite an extraordinary amount for just one man, I must say, and not a crumb or a drop left over on the trays Finly carried back to the kitchen.) I told Finly to quiz him, find out if he was sick or needed a doctor, or perhaps a bit of company, but the only thing she said was that he was fine, and it was none of our business, he’d paid up front hadn’t he? So what was the problem. Bit rude if you ask me.

                              Mater had taken to her room with a pile of those trashy romance novels, complaining of her arthritis. She’d gone into a sulk ever since I ruined her red pantsuit in a boil wash, and dyed all the table linen pink in the process. The other guests lounged around listlessly in the sitting room or the porch, flicking through magazines or scrolling their gadgets, mostly with bored vacant expressions, and little conversation beyond a cursory reply to any attempt to chat.

                              Bert was nowhere to be seen most of the time, and even when he was around, he was as uncommunicative as the rest of them, and Devan, what was he up to, always down the cellar? Checking the rat traps was all he said when I asked him. But we haven’t got rats, I told him, not down the cellar anyway. He gave me a look that was unreadable, to put it politely. Maybe he’s got a crack lab going on down there, planning on selling it to the bored guests. God knows, maybe that’d liven us all up a bit.

                              I did get to wondering about those two women who wandered off down the mine, but whenever I mentioned them to anyone, all I got was a blank stare. I even banged on Sanso’s door a time or two, but he didn’t answer. I made Finly ask him, and she said all he would say is Not to worry, it would be sorted out. I mean, really! He hadn’t left that room all week, how was he going to sort it out? Bert said the same thing when I eventually managed to collar him, he said just wait, it will get sorted out, and then that glazed look came over his face again.

                              It’s weird, I tell you. We’re like a cast of characters with nobody writing the story, waiting. Waiting to start again on whatever comes next.

                              #4757

                              The loud throbbing of a Harley Davidson interrupted the unexpected revelation moment.
                              A few seconds later, the door banged open and a man with a long moustache, thick eyebrows and a rather bushy hair entered the Inn.

                              Fergus?” said Mater, frowning.
                              Uncle Fergus?” said Maeve.
                              “You old bastard!” said Bert.

                              Devan didn’t know the name of the man, but he did manage to infuse his wide open mouth with an interrogation.

                              “Who’s Fergus?” asked Dodo, who didn’t want to be left behind.

                              The fact that Mater was the first person to pronounce the name of the man didn’t escape Prune’s shrewd mind.
                              “How do you know him?” she asked Mater who blushed and used another puff of dust to cough and avoid the question.

                              But one surprised all the others, even Fergus.
                              “My long lost brother!” said Sanso. He moved forward and hugged the newly arrived man. Truth be told, there was some ressemblance between the two of them.

                              Mandrake was looking at Ugo who seemed rather focused on the scene. Something was off, he could feel it. He should warn Arona, but the darn lizard never left her side, or her hair. It was pretty annoying since she would not brush his fur very often now, and he certainly needed some refreshing with all the knots caused by the dryness of the climate.

                              #4755

                              “Welcome, Everyone!” said Mater. She had entered unnoticed and was standing in the doorway regarding the assembled group and looking rather more lewd than welcoming. She had worn a pantsuit for the occasion, a relic from the 70’s made of red garbardine. Fortunately, the forgiving nature of garbardine added a little stretch, but even so the cloth clung rather too tightly to Mater’s curves.
                              “Oh, lord love ya! “ said Finly. “Look at you! You’ve not dusted that pantsuit off since you got it out of the chest, have you!” She hit Mater with her duster and a cloud of dust enveloped her.
                              “Way to go, Mater!” said Devan.
                              “What are you doing, crazy old woman?” shrieked Dodo. Unfortunately her mouth was full of bread roll and it sounded more like, “Woowawuooingwazyolewoom?”
                              “She’s aboriginal?” asked Sanso looking at Dodo with interest.
                              Prune snorted. “We aren’t quite sure where she is from but she is an interesting specimen.”
                              “I expect she is rip snorting drunk again,” said Mater after the dust had subsided. “Anyway, I just want to say it is a pleasure to have you all here. I hope you are finding enough to eat. If you need anything, Bert here is your man.”
                              “Thanks ever so much,” said Arona, smiling charmingly and gently wiping the lizard with her paper table napkin before popping it back under her turban.
                              Bert grunted and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “We aren’t used to this many folk staying at one time,” he said. “But yeah, welcome all. So, what are you all here for?”
                              “It’s to do with a doll, actually,” said Maeve. Shawn Paul looked at her, impressed with her boldness.
                              “A key,” said Arona, waving the key in the air.
                              Mater stumbled and reached out to the door frame for support.
                              “Bloody hell,” said Bert.

                              #4747

                              In reply to: The Stories So Near

                              ÉricÉric
                              Keymaster

                                WHERE ARE THEY ALL NOW ? 🗻

                                a.k.a. the map thread, and because everything happens now anyway.

                                POP-IN THREAD (Maeve, Lucinda, Shawn-Paul, Jerk, [Granola])

                                🌀 [map link] – KELOWNA, B.C., CANADA

                                It looks like our group of friends live in Canada, Kelowna.

                                Kelowna is a city on Okanagan Lake in the Okanagan Valley in the southern interior of British Columbia, Canada. The name Kelowna derives from an Okanagan language term for “grizzly bear”. The city’s motto: “Fruitful in Unity”

                                Interestingly, Leörmn the dragon from the Doline may have visited from time to time : Ogopogo / Oggie / Naitaka

                                FLYING FISH INN THREAD (Mater/Finly, Idle/Coriander/Clove, Devan, Prune, [Tiku])

                                Though very off the beaten track, the Flying Fish Inn may be located near a location that was a clue left as a prank by Corrie & Clove on the social media to lure conspiracy theorists to the Inn.
                                🔑 ///digger.unusually.playfully

                                It seems to link to a place near documented old abandoned mines.

                                🌀 [map link]  – SOME PLACE IN THE MIDDLE OF AUSTRALIA, OFF ARLTUNGA ROAD

                                DOLINE THREAD (Arona, Sanso/Lottie, Ugo, Albie)

                                This one is a tricky geographical conundrum, since the Doline is a multi-dimensional hub. It connects multiple realities and places though bodies of water, with the cave structure (the Doline) at its center, a world on its own right, where talking animals and unusual creatures are not uncommon.

                                It has shown to connect places in the Bayou in Louisiana, where Albie & Mandrake went to see the witch, as well as the coastal area of Australia, where they emerged next in their search for Arona.

                                At the center of the Doline is a mysterious dragon named Leörmn, purveyor of precious traveling pearls and impossible riddles. We thus may infer possible intersection points in our dimension, such as 🔑 ///mysterious.dragon.riddle a little North of Hawaii, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

                                However, the inside of the Doline would look rather like Phong Nha-Ke Bang gigantic cave in Vietnam.

                                NEWSREEL THREAD (Ms Bossy, Hilda/Connie, Sophie, Ricardo)

                                It is not very clear where our favourite investigative team is located. They are likely to be near an urban area with a well-connected international airport, given their propensity for impromptu traveling, such as in Iceland and Australia.

                                For all we know, they could be settled in Germany: 🔑 ///newspapers.gone.crazy
                                or Denmark 🔑 ///publish.odds.news

                                As for the Doctor, we strongly suspect his current hideout to be also revealed when searching from his signature beautification prescription that has made him famous in connoisseur circles: 🔑 ///beauty.treatment.shot at the frontier of Sweden and Finland.

                                LIZ THREAD (Finnley, Liz, Roberto, Godfrey)

                                We don’t really know where the story happens; for that, one would need to dive into Liz’s turbulent past, and that would confound the most sane individual, starting with keeping count of her past husbands.

                                As a self-made powerful best-selling writer, we could guess she would take herself to be the JK Rowling of the Unplotted Booker Prize, and thus would be a well-traveled British uptart, sorry upstart, with a fondness for mansions with character and gardeners with toned glutes. Of course, one would need the staff.

                                DRAGON 💚 WOOD THREAD (Glynnis, Eleri, Fox/Gorrash, Rukshan)

                                This story happens in another completely different dimension, but it can be interesting to explore some of its unusual geography.

                                The World revolved around a central axis, and different worlds stacked one upon the other, with the central axis like an elevator.

                                We know of

                                • the World of Humans, where most of the story takes place
                                • the world of Gods, above it, which has been sealed off, and where most Gods disappeared in the old ages
                                • Under these two, the world of Giants exists, still to be explored.

                                At the intersection of the central axis of the world and the human world, radiates the Heartwood, a mystical forest powered by the Gem of Creation which has been here since the Dawn of Times, and is a intricate maze, and a dimension in itself. It had grown around itself different woods and glades and forests, with various level of magical properties meant to repel intruders or lesser than Godlike beings.

                                The Fae dimension is a particular dimension which exists parallel to the Human World, accessible only to Elder Faes, and where the race originated, and is now mostly deserted, as Faes’ magic waning with the encroachment of humans into the Forest, most have chosen to live in the Forests and try and protect them.

                                #4744

                                In reply to: The Stories So Near

                                ÉricÉric
                                Keymaster

                                  Newer developments

                                  POP-IN THREAD (Maeve, Lucinda, Shawn-Paul, Jerk, [Granola])

                                  Granola is popping in and out of the stories, exploring interacting more physically with her friends through Tiku, a bush lady focus of hers.
                                  Luckily (not so coincidentally) Maeve and Shawn-Paul were given coupons to travel from their rural Canada town to the middle of Australia. Maeve is suspicious of being followed by a strange man, and tags along with Shawn-Paul to keep a cover of a young couple. Maeve is trying to find the key to the doll that she made in her secret mission for Uncle Fergus, which has suddenly reappeared at her friend Lucinda’s place. She’ll probably is going to have to check on the other dolls that she made as well.
                                  Jerk continues to administrate some forum where among other things, special dolls are found and exchanged, and he moderates some strange messages.
                                  Lucinda is enjoying Fabio’s company, Maeve’s dog, that she has in her care while Maeve is travelling.

                                  FLYING FISH INN THREAD (Mater/Finly, Idle/Coriander/Clove, Devan, Prune, [Tiku])

                                  The mysteries of the Flying Fish Inn seem to unravel slowly, like Idle’s wits.
                                  Long time family member are being drawn inexplicably, such as Prune and brother Devan. The local bush lady Tiku is helping Finly with the catering, although Finly would rather do everything by herself. The totemic Fish was revealed to be a talisman placed here against bad luck – “for all the good it did” (Mater).
                                  Bert, thought to be an old flame of Mater, who’s acted for the longest time as gardener, handyman and the likes, is revealed to be the father of Prune, Devan, Coriander and Clove’s mother. Mater knew of course and kept him around. He was trained in codes during his time with the military, and has a stash of potentially dangerous books. He may be the key to the mystery of the underground tunnels leading to the mines, and hidden chests of gold. Devan is onto a mystery that a guy on a motorbike (thought to be Uncle Fergus of Maeve’s story) told him about.

                                  DOLINE THREAD (Arona, Sanso/Lottie, Ugo, Albie)

                                  Mandrake & Albie after a trip in the bayou, and looking for the dragon Leormn’s pearls and the sabulmantium, have finally found Arona after they have emerged from the interdimentional water network from the Doline, to the coast of Australia in our reality, where cats don’t usually talk.
                                  Albie is expecting a quest, while the others are just following Arona’s lead, as she is in possession of a mysterious key with 3 words engraved.
                                  After some traveling in hot air balloon, and with a local jeep, they have arrived at a local Inn in the bush, with a rather peculiar family of owners, and quite colorful roster of guests. That’s not even counting the all-you-can-eat lizard meat buffet. What joy.

                                  NEWSREEL THREAD (Ms Bossy, Hilda/Connie, Sophie, Ricardo)

                                  Ms Bossy is looking to uncover the Doctor’s surely nefarious plans while her newspaper business isn’t doing so well. She’s got some help from Ricardo the intern. They have found out that the elderly temp worker who’s fascinated by the future, Sophie (aka Sweet Sophie) had been the first subject of the Doctor’s experiments. Sophie has been trying to uncover clues in the dreams, but it’s just likely she is still a sleeper agent of the Doctor.
                                  Despite all common sense and SMS threats, Hilda & Connie have gone in Australia to chase a trail (from a flimsy tip-off from Superjerk that may have gone to Lucinda to her friend journalist). They are in touch with Lucinda, and post their updates on social media, flirting with the risk of being uncovered and having trouble come at their door.
                                  Sha, Glo and Mavis are considering reaching out for a vacation of the nursing home to get new free beauty treatments.
                                  In his secret lair, the Doctor is reviving his team of brazen teafing operatives: the magpies.

                                  LIZ THREAD (Finnley, Liz, Roberto, Godfrey)

                                  Not much happened as usual, mostly an entertaining night with Inspector Melon who is quizzing Liz’ about her last novel about mysterious messages hidden in dolls with secret keys, which may be her best novel yet…

                                  DRAGON 💚 WOOD THREAD (Glynnis, Eleri, Fox/Gorrash, Rukshan)

                                  Before Rukshan goes to the underworld land of Giants, he’s going to the cottage to gather some of his team of friends, Fox, Ollie etc. Glynis is taking care of Tak during Margoritt’s winter time in the city. Margoritt’s sister, Muriel is an uninvited and unpleasant guest at the cottage.
                                  Tak is making friends with a young girl who may have special powers (Nesy).
                                  The biggest mystery now is… is the loo going to get fixed in time?

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