Comedy in Family History
Some short stories etc. Donations welcome.


I've been doing family history for nearly 30 years,

Diligently tracing my illustrious forebears,

From Pigeon Lake to Peterborough, Penrith to Penzance,

My merry band of ancestors has led me quite a dance.

There's cooks from Kent and guards from Gwent and chimney sweeps from Chester.

There's even one daft fisherman lived all his life in Leicester,

There's no - one rich or famous, no not even well-to-do,

Though a second cousin twice removed once played in goal for Crewe.

I've haunted record offices from Gillingham to Jarrow;

the little grey cells of my mind would humble Hercule Poirot.

I've deciphered bad handwriting that would shame a three year old,

and brought the black sheep of the family back into the fold.

My bride of just three minutes, I left standing in the church,

as I nipped into the graveyard for a spot of quick research.

Eventually I found an uncle, sixty years deceased.

That was far more satisfying than a silly wedding feast,

After three weeks of wedded bliss, my wife became despondent

She named the public records office as the co-respondent.

I didn't even notice when she packed her bags and went

I was looking for a great granddad's will who'd died in Stoke on Trent

But now my 30 year obsession is lying in the bin

Last Tuesday week, I heard some news that made me pack it in.

It was then my darling mother, who is not long for this earth,

casually informed me they'd adopted me at birth!

This humorous article appeared on Tony Richard's
'Lakeland Cam' website Sept 2/05.
1930's 40's, 50's, 60's and 70's !!
First, we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank while they carried us.
They took aspirin, ate blue cheese dressing, tuna from a can, and didn't get tested for diabetes.
Then after that trauma, our baby cribs were covered with bright colored lead-based paints.
We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets and when we rode our bikes, we had no helmets, not to mention, the risks we took hitchhiking.
As children, we would ride in cars with no seat belts or air bags.
Riding in the back of a pick up on a warm day was always a special treat.
We drank water from the garden hose and NOT from a bottle.
We shared one soft drink with four friends, from one bottle and NO ONE actually died from this.
We ate cupcakes, white bread and real butter and drank soda pop with sugar in it, but we weren't overweight because WE WERE ALWAYS OUTSIDE PLAYING!
We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back when the streetlights came on.
No one was able to reach us all day. And we were O.K.
We would spend hours building our go-carts out of scraps and then ride down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes. After running into the bushes a few times, we learned to solve the problem.
We did not have Playstations, Nintendo's, X-boxes, no video games at all, no 99 channels on cable, no video tape movies, no surround sound, no cell phones, no personal computers, no Internet or Internet chat
rooms..........WE HAD FRIENDS and we went outside and found them!
We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones and teeth and there were no lawsuits from these accidents.
We ate worms and mud pies made from dirt, and the worms did not live in us forever.
We were given BB guns for our 10th birthdays, made up games with sticks and tennis balls and although we were told it would happen, we did not put out very many eyes.
We rode bikes or walked to a friend's house and knocked on the door or rang the bell, or just yelled for them!
Little League had tryouts and not everyone made the team. Those who didn't had to learn to deal with disappointment. Imagine that!!
The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law was unheard of. They actually sided with the law!
This generation has produced some of the best risk-takers, problem solvers and inventors ever!
The past 50 years have been an explosion of innovation and new ideas.
We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned HOW TO DEAL WITH IT ALL!
And YOU are one of them! CONGRATULATIONS!
You might want to share this with others who have had the luck to grow up as kids, before the lawyers and the government regulated our lives for our own good, and while you are at it, forward it to your kids so they will know how brave their parents were.
Kind of makes you want to run through the house with scissors, doesn't
Can a first cousin, once removed, return?

A Cemetary......... is a marble orchard, not to be taken for granite!

Crazy................... is a relative term for my family!

Genealogy............ is chasing your own tale!
Genealogy............ is all relative in the end!
Genealogy............ is tracing yourself back to better people!
Genealogy............ is a haystack full of needles, it's the threads I need!
Genealogy............ is collecting dead relatives and sometime a live cousin!
Genealogy............ is where you confuse the dead and irritate the living!

I trace my family history so I know who to blame.

It's hard to be humble with ancestors like mine!

Life takes it's toll, have exact change ready!

Searching for lost relatives?.... win the Lottery!

That's strange....... half my ancestors were women!

Do I even want ancestors?... Some I found I wish I could loose!

Every family tree has some sap in it!

Floor........ Is the place you store most of your precious family records!

Friends come and go, but relatives tend to accumulate .

Genealogists........ do it in the Library.
Genealogists........ live in the past lane.
Genealogists........ never die, they just loose their roots.

Heredity.............. Everyone believes in it until their children act like fools!

I looked at my family tree.... there were two dogs using it!

My family tree.... is a few branches short of full bloom.

Life is lived forwards, but understood backwards!

My ancestors are hiding in a witness protection program!

Research is......... what I'm doing, when I don't know what I'm doing!

Take nothing but ancestors, leave nothing but records.

Theory of relativity: If you go back far enough.... we're all related!

Rules for using the Research Rooms
Dress: Please note that the standard dress of Family Historians is required ie:
Flat shoes, shapeless cardigan with pockets, reading glasses on chain etc...
No food is allowed in the research room, this includes Tic tacs madam! Chewing pencils is also strictly forbidden.
There are no toilet facilities on the premises. Kindly leave your bladder at home.
Anyone found abusing a microfiche reader (ie: calling is a *#!?* thing) will be immediately expelled.
Thumping or shaking microfiche readers is strictly forbidden.
When two persons wish to have access to the same tray of fiche at the same time, priority will be given to the most sensibly dressed of the two.
Persons with laptop computers are required to refrain from looking smug!.
Screams of delight are not encouraged. Expletives, blasphemies and other utterances of frustration or despair are strictly forbidden.
Please do not disturb the elderly gentleman at fiche reader no. 16. he has been here since January trying to find himself on the 1891 census. The coroner has been informed.
Please note that the original books and documents in the archives are only available to serious historians, not to giggly internet morons who think they need only join a few mailing lists and buy a set of CD's to trace back five generations in a fortnight. Good Lord, they turn up here in jeans and trainers, carrying electronic notepads, don't know what the country's coming to, semi-literate half of them, complain they can't read the good old-fashioned handwriting, what do they teach them in schools these days?... hrrrrmmmm.


Written by Edna Jaques, A Canadian Poetress in early 1900's

I do not know their pedigree,
Their breeding or their worth,
But this I know, they gave to me
The love of common earth,
The smell of furrows brown and wet,
The love of sun and rain,
Their gardens, sweet with mignonette,
Will live in me again.

And someone nurtured by the sea,
Who loved her wind and spray,
Passed down across the years to me
The joy that's mine today.
For I can smell the salty breath
When quiet tides are low
Because some person living there
Had loved it long ago.

Because some unremembered soul
Was glad of firelight
I am content with little rooms
That shut me from the night.
And when I hear the dawn come up,
All stormy from the sea,
A thankful fisherman at down
Is glad again in me.

For songs that beat against my heart,
>From some dim fountain fed,
Among the quiet dead.
And crops that ripen in the sun
Their golden gracious yields
Are some dim father's of the race
Who tended little fields

And so this soul and blood of me
Are just a living link
That's welded in the race of men
Who live and move and think.
And all that's fine and good and clean.
The substance and the sum
A part of all who went before
The seem of all to come.

Genealogist's Christmas Eve

'Twas the night before Christmas
When all through the house
Not a creature was stirring,
Not even my spouse.

The dining room table with clutter was spread
With pedigree charts and with letters which said...
"Too bad about the data for which you wrote;
Sank in a storm on an ill-fated boat."

Stacks of old copies of wills and such
Were proof that my work had become too much.
Our children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugarplums danced in their heads.

And I at my table was ready to drop
From work on my album with photos to crop.
Christmas was here, and such was my lot
That presents and goodies and toys I'd forgot.

Had I not been busy with grandparents' wills,
I'd not have forgotten to shop for such thrills,
While others bought gifts to bring Christmas cheers,
I'd spent time researching those birth dates and years.

While I was thus musing about my sad plight,
A strange noise on the lawn gave me such a great fright.
Away to the window I flew in a flash,
Tore open the drapes and yanked up the sash.

When what with my wondering eyes should appear,
But an overstuffed sleigh and eight small reindeer.
Up to the house top the reindeer they flew,
With a sleigh full of toys and 'ole Santa Claus, too.

And then in a twinkle, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of thirty-two hoofs.
As I drew in my head, and bumped it on the sash,
Down the cold chimney fell Santa--KER-RASH!

"Dear" Santa had come from the roof in a wreck,
And tracked soot on the carpet, (I could wring his short neck!)
Spotting my face, good 'ole Santa could see
I had no Christmas spirit you'd have to agree.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work
And filled all the stockings, (I felt like a jerk).
Here was Santa, who'd brought us such gladness and joy:
When I'd been too busy for even one toy.

He spied my research on the table all spread
"A genealogist!" He cried!  (My face was all red!)
"Tonight I've met many like you," Santa grinned,
As he pulled from his sack a large book he had penned.

I gazed with amusement--the cover it read
Genealogy Lines for Which You Have Plead.
"I know what it's like as a genealogy bug."
He said as he gave me a great Santa hug.

"While the elves make the sleighful of toys I now carry,
I do some research in the North Pole Library!
A special treat I am thus able to bring,
To genealogy folk who can't find a thing."

"Now off you go to your bed for a rest,
I'll clean up the house from this genealogy mess."
As I climbed up the stairs full of gladness and glee,
I looked back at Santa who'd brought much to me.

While settling in bed, I heard Santa's clear whistle,
To his team, which then rose like the down of a thistle.
And I heard him exclaim as he flew out of sight,
"Family history is Fun!  Merry Christmas!  Goodnight!"

--Author Unknown

I hope you enjoyed these ditto's I found on mailing lists and would appreciate donations of new "clean" ditto's