Mono Monday - Ancestors

Other than my husband, there is only one man who sees me undressed.  He knows what I need, how to make me unwind, and we have the same sense of humour.  I haven't seen him since October and I shouldn't have left it so long.  I'll see him again next Monday.

I have done a lot of family research over the years and found one bigamist, another who left his family on the parish, another who made his fortune in the silver mines of Pachuca and Real del Monte in Mexico, but apart from that, nothing exciting.

These are my great grandparents on the maternal side, both born in the 1860s, grandpa died in 1920 and little granny died in 1953.  I didn't know this photograph existed until three years ago but several things about it make me smile. 

Grandpa Viant looks like someone from the mid-West of America and should be wearing a sheriff's badge, and he's sitting whilst she's standing.  Gran looks as though she's run out of teeth and I know she never learnt to read or write.  She was tiny, as was her daughter, her granddaughter and me, whereas he looks tall.

They had a hard life, he was a tin smelter in the worst possible area of Redruth.  They had eight children, a daughter died young, but from the remaining seven children they only produced three daughters.  Strange how some families implode.

They would be amazed at how we live today and how we've prospered.  I still visit their grave when I'm in Cornwall.