Posts about both sides of my family
It’s been two months since I last posted, but I have a reasonably good excuse. I’m putting my apartment on the market and have spent these weeks sorting, packing and cleaning, as well as overseeing tradesmen. This week my apartment officially went on sale, which doesn’t mean I can relax
I have a question! My regular readers will know that I’ve been researching my maternal family for quite awhile now. My maternal grandparents, Paul and Olga Woronoff, escaped Russia in January 1920, during the Civil War in which my grandfather had volunteered for the White Army. As the Red Army
My latest search is for the graves of my maternal great grandmother and three of her daughters, my great aunts. My maternal great grandmother, Catherine Jakowzoff (Yakovtsov), died in France where she and her second husband, Vassily Jakowzoff, had fled to from the chaos of Soviet controlled Russia. They had
“Wot’s in a name? she sez. An’ then she sighs, An’ clasps ‘er little ‘ands, an’ rolls ‘er eyes. A rose, she sez, be any other name Would smell the same.” Those are the first lines of the poem, The Play, taken from The Songs of a Sentimental Bloke, written
One of the books I inherited from my mother is falling apart. The covering of the spine has been lost, the edges of the pages are tattered and some have fallen out completely. Open the book and you will find sticky tape holding the torn and tattered pages, some of
“Begin at the beginning,” the King said, very gravely, “and go on till you come to the end: then stop.” Alice in Wonderland This advice is perfect for family historians! For me, the beginning of my family history journey had its roots in the stories my grandmother told me and