One summer we camped in the south of England, actually in a field attached to a farm which used to belong to my great x 3 grandfather Horne. After a Sunday morning spent roaming round the tiny village, we took off for a drive to the seaside, promising the offspring a long paddle, but neglecting to inform them that we would be stopping at a cemetery or two en route. I had a goal, to find the gravestones of my 5th great grandparents, Elizabeth Jezzard nee Lovewold (died 1816) and her husband George Jezzard (died 1821). On a boiling hot Summer afternoon, we parked by the side of a tiny church in a quiet village called Chislet and surveyed the graveyard.
When our children were small, my (now) ex husband and I used to plan our summer holidays and short camping trips, very carefully, so as to be sited near places of genealogical interest. Our poor children got used to spending part of each holiday in local history libraries, or in cemeteries, and, in smallish doses, were fairly compliant, providing a treat was promised for ‘afterwards.’
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