Old Folks, Old Music and Old Courtesies

I suppose it's an offshoot of growing up - or more particularly one's family roots being - in a fairly compact rural area, that the same names crop up time and again as one's research progresses.  My first awareness of the surname Francis, for example, came at a young age when I discovered that this was the married name of my father's eldest sister.  I've since discovered it in the family of my maternal grandfather, and a year or so ago that it also occurs among the ancestors of my cousin's husband.  Indeed these two latter families lived for some while only streets apart in the same village!

This week I've been researching another family whose name figures more than once in our story.  My aforementioned maternal grandfather was the great-grandson of a man who was illegitimate and, down the years, had alternately used both his mother's name (the one that we knew as we grew up) and that of his putative father, Kerridge (someone as yet unidentified!)  My searches last year included my cousin's husband's Kerridge forbears, but this week I've been looking into the Kerridge family into which one of my maternal grandmother's great-great-aunt married in the early years of the 19th Century.

Much of the information I'd collected some years ago came from a couple of distant cousins, and had lain unsubstantiated among my papers ever since.  I decided it was time I did something about checking it out.  Many of the records are available on line, of course - many more now than was the case when I collected those details - but many Suffolk records have yet to be added to that resource.  So it was that, yesterday, I took a trip to the record office in Bury St Edmunds, and collected details of a number of Kerridge baptism, marriages and burials, which over the weekend I shall add to my growing picture of that family.

The only downside to the trip was a near miss on the way home, when someone misjudged my approaching speed and pulled out in front of me.  Luckily the reactions of both me and the driver of the car following me were quick enough to prevent an accident.  This week is an active time for the car.  Last autumn we were blessed to host a performance of Messiah in our church, by a novel and very professional company called Merry Opera.  In an outburst of enthusiasm, having enjoyed this immensely, I discovered that the nearest point to my home in their current tour is a visit to the newly refurbished Corn Hall in my former home town.  Tomorrow evening, therefore, I'm heading back in that same direction to see The Marriage of Figaro.

It seemed appropriate, therefore, to 'take the car for a walk' this morning to pass through the car wash and fill up with fuel.  I also had the tyre pressures checked, where the chatty mechanic observed, 'You're not working today, then?'  'Not working?!'  I replied with mock horror.  'You're retired now, then?' he rejoined with some surprise.  'Two years and more,' I told him, adding quickly, 'but thanks for the compliment!'  He smiled, the check completed, and wished me well as I went on my way.  It's good to be recognised as a familiar face, even though my visits there are far fewer these days, and less profitable for them into the bargain.