Giles popped in for a visit this morning, bringing Jackie and me each a bottle of our preferred beverages. After this a powerful wind blew me to and fro as I walked down to the Spar shop for some stamps and posted some letters.
Having dreamt up the idea for today’s activity and consequent post during the night, I worked on the photographs, some of which had to be sought out and extracted from group images.
Having loaded them onto my iMac, I hung the photograph of my Great [great] Grandmother Elizabeth Franks on our dressing room wall. If you look closely you will see the photographer reflected in the bottom right hand corner. Remembering that this Victorian woman was eighteen at the time the picture was taken, and that just a day or two ago I had placed Flo’s eighteenth birthday photo in the sitting room, it occurred to me that I may have the material in my collections to trace our granddaughter’s descent, where possible with images of ladies of a similar age. Here is the result:
Florence McConlough’s Great Great Great Grandmother Elizabeth Franks,
whose son George Henry Hunter married Annie Evans, Great Great Grandmother photographed at their son, Ben’s wedding to Ellen in about 1941.
Their daughter Jean, Flo’s Great Grandmother, was also eighteen when photographed shortly before her wedding to Douglas Michael Knight,
as was their son, Grandpa Derrick John Knight when his first wife Vivien took this shot in front of the Tower of London in 1961. (Sorry to insert a man, but it couldn’t be helped).
Then came his daughter Rebekah Veronica Jean, shared with second wife Jacqueline Mary, nee Rivett. Rebekah, Florence’s Mother, was 21 when photographed by Derrick at his son Michael and Heidi’s wedding on 5th October 1991.
daughter of Grannie Jacqueline Mary, still Rivett and almost 18 when photographed by Derrick in May 1967.
Jacqueline Mary’s Mother was Flo’s Nan, Veronica Rivett, nee O’Connell, probably also 18 when this photograph was taken.
Vera Rivett, nee Dove was Flo’s Great Grandmother.
It will be apparent that these portraits are almost all crops from larger images. It seems fitting that I should post this shot of Jackie in full, because it tells a story that will amuse those members of the family who appreciate my obsession with photographing the day’s events. My then fiancee, you see, had slipped down a bank in a wood somewhere in Surrey, and grasped a tuft of grass, putting it in danger of being uprooted, and her of slipping further. Chivalrous as ever, I just had to take the photograph before coming to her rescue.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s divine beef and sausage casserole, boiled potatoes, runner beans, and carrots, followed by Mr. Lidl’s exquisite apple strudel, with which I drank more of the Cotes du Roussillon Villages and Jackie drank Hoegaarden.