Queen Catherine Howard beheaded, 1542. My great-grandfather, John Wilson, was born 121 years ago on this day. And, believe it or not, that is the only thing I know about him. It seems sad to think that a man of so much importance - for if it were not for him I would not now be writing this diary - is only remembered for the fact that he was delivered into this world on March 13, 1853. God Bless Him anyway.
(Er, yes. Er, so why I have written this today on FEBRUARY 13?)
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The journal of a Yorkshire lad from the age of 17 in 1973 through several decades .... Transcribing from handwritten volume to blog may take some time ...
Showing posts with label 1853. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1853. Show all posts
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Wednesday September 4, 1985
Moorhouse Inn Overcast - me and the weather. The alarm sounded at 7 but Ally switched it off for half an hour. Felt groggy and could have s...
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Moorhouse Inn 2nd Sunday in Lent with dear Phyllis. Drizzle. Up for a full-English. Samuel is much better behaved without the influence of ...
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Moorhouse Inn Cold and quiet. Dave Glynn phoned tonight but Ally and I were in the cellar, and when we phoned back Lily said that David has...