Last Saturday , nearly a week ago I self-isolated as I was exhausted from two busy working weeks. Before I settled to Voice UK. I grabbed my coat and pass. card and keys, mobile and specs and faithful trolley to make the Co-Op. I was on a mission for my isolated family and for my crisp addiction. Successful veg and fruit trip and some essentials like reduced loaves and pork pies.
I am so overwhelmed by being indoors because I have so much on the go and pump up my energy with water and tomatoes. Must be good for you. Today, pissed off with a creative shadowing me and finding out that the sun is not coming out and another of my flock has gone off radar. Sad but true and I can’t take on any others’ problems and their mental health issues. Majorly angry at Johnson and his waffling half-baked strategies.
Another project started last week is Positive In Crisis where I tap into seniors’ experiences of all the crazy art workshops we’ve attended over 13 years and the free art exhibitions to see the famous and infamous old masters forever and smatterings of black newcomers. It’s all at Facebook so seniors aren’t looking in that much but I motivated ten Up Your Street enthusiastic for one hour participants. Sandra’s beavering away. Jasmine’s finding her fabrics and Glenys wants direction. We’ll do this art through the quarantine period and exhibit in the autumn. I remain positive, There is no other way to be.
Added on to Cyberspace at Facebook where I deleted some other pages including my boring Self_Isolation Diary 2020 is Homing In where retired teachers at Up Your Street can relay confidence to home-schooling parents as they enter a world they left behind years ago before they used schools as mothers. Not an easy task to learn ’em kids indoors.
The deathly quiet Osier Project is in reclusive state. My sister and I researched till our eyes bled and realised those who gave interest were not pitching in. Can’t keep flogging dead horses. Got viruses to fight.
News on a loop with experts giving their takes on whatever the Government waffles out. Bee Gees on telly full blast. Bra off (in self-isolation). Tea in mug. Excited about something.
In 2013 I helped to clear out a Walthamstow post-code E10 flat on Lea Bridge Road or was it a Leyton address with an E17 post-code. It was certainly on the E17 Village boundary. Hallowed ground for a des.res.
I found and claimed two Victorian samplers which any museum in London will tell you are two a penny.I cherished them and for a while they were in exhibition at Walthamstow Girls’ School and without explanation were totally foreign to the school population which represented multi-cultural teenage Britain.
I began some internet researching and found a photo of an aged lady with the same name as the child embroiderer/sampler. At the time, to me the surname/family name was unusual but it’s not. There was nothing to see by the photo except an obituary. I researched more and found that the police constable at Vestry House when it was a police station bore the same name as my child sampler and after all the embroidered stuff was found in E17.I presumed the guy was the father and to this day I cannot find that article I read about him. I will. I cannot use Vestry as I don’t like the place or the quietness.
So years passed and I had infrequent conversations by email with a long-neglected sister. Last week I asked her to find some information about my girl.
My sister is ace at Ancestry UK. We have done other projects together and been successful.
Remember we are both self-isolating and we work into the early hours when our eyes are smarting and watering.
After many leads where the dates could not match and errors by Govt. clerks obviously published years ago she. my sister found the glorious family tree. The dad was the constable. Our girl died at 100 years old.
We are now searching for the grandchildren and am at a glitch right now as one daughter-in-law died childless. Heir hunters. I will hand over the samplers. There will be no flourish. Only 50 somethings and better get excited by family history. This isn’t even my family. That’s one of terror and abuse.
There are many bits and pieces to prove such as who really had the samplers in the flat in the scullery? The constable being at Vestry is not totally proved but the girl is found.
Things to do whilst a virus rages.