11 May - Gloucester

I heard the sparrows farting when I got up, as Stroud is a quiet little spot. The Indian gentleman was watching Indian tv when I came down for my breakfast, but he boiled me some nice eggs (eventually - I had to send them back for extra time) and let me tuck in to a hearty breakfast. I had in mind before I left home this would be a good time to drop a kilo or two, but I needed my energy for the walking, so took advantage of the large breakfast. He and his off-sider wore dirty tee shirts but they smiled a lot and were quite helpful. He told me I was his only house guest. I wasn't surprised. I explained to him that it might be a good idea to get someone in to do some cleaning some time.

I found the train (it wasn’t hard, as the railway line was next to the hotel) and settled in for the half hour ride to Gloucester. I was tres excited. This was the day I would find my ancestors in the Gloucester Archives. I had a map, and followed it carefully to the archives office, which was only 5 minutes’ walk from Gloucester station. I photographed the sign outside, as I had plenty of time to spare in Gloucester as it turned out, the archives being closed on Mondays. I took it quite well really. After half an hour of rattling every window in the building and peering suspiciously inside to see if anyone was furtively getting a private reading of the archives, I beat my retreat and went off to find the family research office instead. Nasty old archives office. They probably didn’t have anything interesting in there anyway.

The family research people were very nice and even let me take photos of the computer screen with all the Poulstons on it, providing I didn’t show you. So I won’t. I learned, as I suspected, that my ancestor Edwin Poulston was in fact born of a Celia or perhaps Sarah Poulson (the name was hard to read), at the Stroud Union Workhouse. We couldn’t find her father or mother, but perhaps next time I am in Gloucester I will pop in to the archives office (not on a Monday) and see what they have.

While I was there I checked out Harry Potter’s church as well (Gloucester Cathedral) but missed the Beatrix Potter museum, not being a rabbit. When I got back to Stroud I went to the council offices and found that they had cemetery records for Hannah and Thomas Poulston, but I was quite circumspect looking for them, as the lady in the council office explained that someone had been bitten by an adder in the cemetery a couple of years back, and to take care. She also suggested I keep an eye out for badger holes. Fancy Mista Badger having rellies in Stroud as well. No wonder we got on so well together. It is indeed a small world.

I couldn’t find the graves, but I photographed the site where they were, and made a sound file of the graveyard, as the birds were chirping happily and making a lovely din. I walked up to the Workhouse and took some photos. It's a trendy set of apartments now but it must have been pretty dire when the Poulstons were living there. We're a noisy lot.

Towards the end of the day I noticed that this was my last not at work day, as I would have to head towards the south coast next for my conference. I really wanted to go to Glastonbury to see what I could see there, or even to Stonehenge, which fascinates me. Fancy putting all those big stones up there just so you could see where the sun lands and mid-summer. Amazing. I don’t think people could have done it, so I wonder who it was. So I had all this in mind when I washed my knickers and socks out, made a few pathetic attempts to get my dongle to work, and then had a glass or two of wine and shuffled off to bed.

I made a recording of the birds preparing to go to bed, but I can't work out how to post it. I was told many years ago by Glenn, that the reason the birds chirp in the morning is that they are pleased it is a good day, and they have several hours of worm eating to look forward to, and the reason they chirp at the end of the day, is that they have finished their work.