Feet Up; Time to Think

It's summer in New Zealand; Christmas and New Year have flown by. As summer holidays are the start of our year, I thought about how I spent it as a child. Summer holidays always meant a day-long journey from Wellington to Tauranga in a stifling hot car along windy, dusty roads; trips to the Mount (Mount Maunganui, a popular surf beach) and Nana. Nana-in-Tauranga was the only grandparent I ever knew as she had been widowed just before my younger brother was born. My other grandparents were shadowy figures: Granny-in-Scotland and Grandpa. In the 1960s, communication was by aerogramme and my only contact was writing two letters a year to thank them for the postal note they sent at Christmas and for my birthday in June. Arriving at Nana's was tinged with both excitement and relief. Heading inside the back door on the left hand side, the first thing I always saw was a large portrait of a white haired lady. And to me, she was a lady! She was dressed in black with a high-necked wh...

A 1904 All Black cap, a family bible with entries back to 1801, a Croix de Guerre for gallantry - there are many items owned by other family members that would be much more worthy of a post about heirlooms but my heirloom has a special connection. It is the powder compact given to me on my 16th birthday by my grandmother, Marcia Adeline Mary McMinn. It looks like a locket, but in fact is a very small powder compact. On the lid are the initials, MMM, for Marcia McMinn. When the lid is lifted, it is clear that it once held a small mirror. Like its original black velvet ribbon, that is long gone. It held face powder and a small power puff and was used at dances - just in case your nose got shiny after too much exertion. Marcia had been given this compact on her own 16th birthday. I'm not sure who gave it to her. Her father had passed away two years earlier under very sad circumstances, so it may have been a gift from her mother or either of her grandmothers, Mary Ann Edwards or mo...

Valentine's Day is a relatively new phenomenon for New Zealanders. I have no recollection of it growing up as a teenager  in the 1970s. As most of research is based on my local ancestors, that causes a problem. There is no-one who was born, was married or even passed away on 14 February. However, I did inherit my Scottish grandmother's engagement ring in its heart-shaped box and after a few sums, I realise my father's parents, John McMichael and Mary King, probably hold the record for the longest family marriage. Their marriage would be perfect for a Valentine's Day tribute. Firstly, the engagement ring. It is still in its original, tiny leather box lined with cream velvet and satin. Over 100 years later is starting to show its age. The box was originally navy blue, though the colour has faded and the gold tooling has worn off. The little hook on the side is quite bent, yet opens easily. The ring is gold with quite a complicated high chased bridge. Along the ...

Sometimes you see a name and it creates a picture of the life that person might have had. I always thought that my 3x great aunt Angelina Bliss would have had a wonderful life. However, when I started looking, frankly, I was shocked by uncovering things that hint at a life that belies her name. Angelina Lovell, the youngest surviving child of Benjamin and Hester, was born in 1852 in Motueka, New Zealand, probably in the middle of the town where I now live. Just behind her likely birthplace is Wilkinson Street. I assumed Angelina had married Mr. Bliss, he had passed away and she had married Mr. Wilkinson, who may or may not have been the local dignitary after whom the street was named. Angelina's parents had arrived as assisted immigrants and first settlers to Nelson in 1842 and within a few months had moved to what is now Golden Bay. They quickly moved back to Motueka where there were more Europeans because Hester did not feel safe and, unlike her sister in law Ann, struggled t...

Last week I shared the story of my great great grandmother, Mary Kennon. She appears aged one month in a Carsethorn house with probably her mother, Jean and older brother, James. However, the most interesting character is the 50 year old English woman, Agnes Grivie born supposedly in 1791. She was married to an Irish handloom linen weaver named Henry. They were living in a very busy Scottish port at a time of mass emigration close to both England and Ireland. How were this couple related to Mary? There are some tantalising clues: the 1851 census, my great grandmother's birth registration and a headstone. In 1851, Agnes was still living in Carsethorn. She was a widow and her birthdate was then recorded as 1785. This time Agnes had an occupation - she was a sick nurse to an older woman, also a widow. Living in the same house was Mary, a boarder and scholar, then aged 9 years. Agnes, it appears, was looking after Mary but there is no sign in the census of her mother. The next clue...

Under Scottish naming traditions, I am named after my dinner guest, Mary Kennon, my grandmother Mary's grandmother. I've always known of Mary Kennon, but I know very little about her. Firstly the menu - we'd probably have Solway Firth shrimps and flounder as Mary would have caught and eaten these as a girl.  Mary Kennon was born at Carsethorn, Kirkbean on the shores of the Solway Firth in Scotland a month before the first official United Kingdom census, where she is registered with who appear to be her mother, Jean, a brother, James aged two, and an older couple. My first question would be to ask her about her mother, Jane. There is no father present, but that does not surprise me. Kirkbean today is a sleepy little village and Carsethorn is even quieter, but that belies its history as a bustling port. In fact, John Paul Jones, the famous United States naval commander was born close by and Mary is buried in the same graveyard as his father. In 1850 alone, 10,000 people ...

I've often wondered how it is that some people have such long lives. Is it merely genetics or do other factors come into play? Grandad Mike came into my life when I was nine or ten. You may think that is quite odd, but in fact he was my only grandfather. My mother's father died when I was a baby; my father's father lived on the other side of the world so I never really knew him. But Grandad Mike chose us by marrying my grandmother who had been widowed quite young. Michael Patrick O'Neill was born in County Waterford, Ireland, although we didn't know he was born in 1921 for many years. He came from a poor family whom I assume subsisted on a tiny piece of land. He had an elder brother, Jack, who never married and stayed on the land. Another brother, Tom, moved to England and his sister, Sister Mary, became a nun. There were few opportunities and Michael emigrated, working in Australia and on Nauru Island, before coming to New Zealand. His field was civil const...