How many of us try to trace back our ancestors ?

Yet you have to be careful of what you may find.

I went over to the UK in search of this ., got as pissed as a fart on the ferry from Wales to Ireland, found a bus, went to sleep, woke up goodness knows where, and asked the nearest man ..”where am I ?

He replied “You’re outside the pub, come in.”

Oh struth, these Irish boyos are priceless.

I loved the pub music, but dinna find much connection with our Ancestors from Cork, (Shannons), so wandered up to Scotland, My older sister Rosalyn did a mighty job tracing ours here, only to get stuck on a lady she could not get past, Mary Greirson.

Anyway, while exploring o’er that way, I visited Marys’ birthplace, a charming little town on the west coast named Wigtown. My Great Great Grandfather was Marys’ husband, so I went to the library, and looked up all the old births and deaths. Which also listed occupations.

 

Next day, while riding around on a local bus, I made mates with the driver and we began having a yarn, a “crack” .. “women gossip, men crack”. When I mentioned Mary Grierson he laughed “ah mon, she was a McGregor.”

“How’s that work ? “

“Ye see tha McGegors, Rob Roy and coy, were such a wild bunch, that the English declared anyone with that surname could be killed on sight. So many changed their names. McGregor means son of Gregor, so Grierson is a play on words.”

How-some-ever, the biggest laugh came that night. I wandered into the small Tavern, and began chatting with a local. He asked what I was up to ?

“Oh, my ancestors came from Wigtown.”

“What was their surname ?”

“Kenyon”

He turned around to the small group in the Tavern, (twenty or thirty), and asked, “does anyone know any Kenyons ?”

Nope. Complete blank.

“Umm Great Great Grandad was married to Mary McCredie.”

“Och, why dinna ya say so mon. He’s a McCredie, she’s married to a McCredie, he lives next door to a McCredie…”

Oh boy, talk about being welcomed home as a long lost kin. I even had a red beard at that stage, so was soon being shouted whiskey left right and centre .. feeling on top of the world .. till someone asked ..

“An wot did yer Great Great Grandfather do for a living ?”

“Oh I looked that up, he was a Cattle Trader.”

Struth, the whole Tavern, Barman an all, spontaneously burst into laughter !

“What’s so funny lads ?”

“Ahh mon, Cattle Trader, Cattle Trader …. he was a Rustler !”

                                                                     ..oOo..