I am the Clan Hunter, staying hidden in my air conditioned cave and spent nearly 6 hours today trying to figure out a "clan" who seemed to want to name all their descendants, William.
4 generations of father's naming their sons, William. I had that in my own family: Conradt named his son Peter, who named his son Conrad, who named his son Peter. You just want to scream!!
Searching for the youngest William and up pops all sorts of stuff about him. I get all excited and copy it out and then realize, it isn't him, it's his grand father, or father, or even--Great grand father. The only saving grace is they each had wives with different names. :-)
Writing it down in the "book" can be a real trial. When I head the page with, "Your 7th Great Grand Parents were," I gotta make sure it is THE 7th great grand parents--not the 8th or the 6th. Which happened today. Had the 5th great grand parents stats and photos of their grave markers and all, and then realized, all the info was really the 6th great grand parents.
"ARGGH"! i said, right out loud, and then inserted a blank page, moved that info down, and back to enter the info for the 5th great grand parents.
While searching and messing around, I DID find a lot of interesting stuff about the 8th Great Grand Father of my clients surname. He was the 1st immigrant to the new world and helped settle the area and make a new town.
This is fascinating
This morning, 10:30, just as I was immersed in William's and concentrating really hard, lost in history, I heard a knock and someone trying to open my locked front door.
Dar and Daddy. ARGGH! Well, Daddy was interesting to talk with--after Dar stopped trying to answer all the questions I asked HIM. He and I reminisced about WWII, rationing, living, etc. He may be 95, but Dar wasn't even born yet, so she had no clue, but a few years older than her, I remembered a lot. I loved that!!!
Daddy has been running Dar ragged. He insisted that "they" clean out her shed and found 15 cans of old paint. She is all in a panic on how to get rid of it because her brother told her it was illegal to put it in the garbage for pick-up.
"That's just BS!" exclaimed Daddy.
"It sure is!" I retorted. "Put a couple of cans in each of your garbage pails each week and they will take it."
Daddy also insists they go out for breakfast, 8:00am every morning, lunch at 1:00, and then every evening, out for an ice cream sundae. Every time I look out the window, I see them driving either in or out of the driveway. HAH!
He has called to make an appointment to have her two decks power-washed and then "Her and I are going to paint them. They look like crap!"
She thought it was stressful with her son and two grand kids living there, and they kept to themselves so she rarely saw them, Daddy is going to put her over the edge!
"Daddy! You're going to kill me!" she said.
"We gotta get this stuff done. I don't have time to waste!"