{"id":6752,"date":"2024-12-05T06:35:34","date_gmt":"2024-12-04T20:35:34","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/veritysparks.com\/?p=6752"},"modified":"2024-12-05T06:35:34","modified_gmt":"2024-12-04T20:35:34","slug":"the-children-of-green-knowe","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/veritysparks.com\/?p=6752","title":{"rendered":"THE CHILDREN OF GREEN KNOWE"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a>I started reading The Children of Green Knowe<\/em> by L M Boston for a Substack read-along (first I\u2019ve ever done; will I do a knit-along next?), and immediately entered another world. It\u2019s like being transported into a beautiful old-fashioned snow globe so as well as following Tolly\u2019s adventures in the book, the story doubles so I see myself wandering alone around the castle-cum-house, going with Mr Boggis into the stables and little by little discovering the garden. I know by heart the carved mouse, the rocking horse, the birdcage. I know the topiary deer, the huge stone St Christopher and the laughter and pattering footsteps of the friendly ghost children. And I sit in front of the fire, leaning against Granny Oldknow\u2019s knees, listening to the first story, Toby\u2019s Story<\/em>\u2026
\nWhich is where I have to stop if I am going to read along with everyone else. It’s such a special book; its magic has never faded with familiarity and I\u2019m looking forward to being part of a little Green Knowe fan club.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>The place where we stopped \u2013 Tolly, Granny Oldknow and a family story \u2013 echoes a project I\u2019ve just started. My mother left a massive stash of family history research and I\u2019ve really only had a superficial look at it. Until now. A friend has been researching her maternal line, regularly updating me on the discoveries and stories of this chain of fore-mothers. She’s following the mitochondrial DNA. After I had lunch with her recently, the bug has bitten, hard. Another friend \u2013 bless her! –\u00a0 is now transcribing Mum\u2019s handwritten pages and I\u2019ve just subscribed to Ancestry.com.<\/p>\n

And I\u2019ve been thinking, too, about my own family stories. \u00a0As a small child, I used to ask my parents about when they were little. There was the tale of Dad, sick of being bullied, finding a pair of pliers and using them on his brother\u2019s big fat bum. Mum, walking along the (strictly out-of-bounds) railway line and getting her foot stuck in the track. Luckily for my future existence, the train stopped, the driver got out and released her with a severe scolding. Then there were the stories of their parents. Mum\u2019s father running away to sea and Dad\u2019s father (unbelievably, since he was a grim and crusty old chap) playing in a dance band. Going back into the far past, there were tales of blood feuds and romances among Border Scots from Mum, and religious persecution in Silesia (now part of Poland) from Dad. I only half remember most of them, but Mum, amazingly, made a file called \u2018Family Myths and Legends.\u2019 She wrote that she couldn\u2019t vouch for the truth of them, but because they were told and re-told for generations, they make part of her heritage. Part of her.<\/p>\n

And therefore part of me. There\u2019s a family surname on my mother\u2019s side that has, for six generations, been carried down as a middle name. I forgot about it for my own son, but I know my cousin\u2019s oldest son has it. I\u2019m hoping that Ancestry will shed some light. Who were these people, where were they from and why did they remain so important to their descendants?<\/p>\n

But like Mum, I don\u2019t intend to let the truth get in the way of a good story.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I started reading The Children of Green Knowe by L M Boston for a Substack read-along (first I\u2019ve ever done; will I do a knit-along next?), and immediately entered another world. It\u2019s like being transported into a beautiful old-fashioned snow … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6752","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/veritysparks.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6752","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/veritysparks.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/veritysparks.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/veritysparks.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/veritysparks.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=6752"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/veritysparks.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6752\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6756,"href":"https:\/\/veritysparks.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6752\/revisions\/6756"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/veritysparks.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=6752"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/veritysparks.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=6752"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/veritysparks.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=6752"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}