It's frustrating me now.
A village that's barely more than a crossroads, three families with the same surname, a village shop that seems to move from one lot to another. In the census they swap kids with each other (niece, nephew, cousin as relationships), but the baptism records for the crucial period suggest they are three yarns from different jumpers but all the same shade of black.
I've just downloaded a will, most wills I've got are one page typed things leaving very little to one person, of course this one is five pages long and appears to be written by a spider with pencil lead tied to each leg and a passion for running in random patterns.
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Joseph Goulson 1707-1780
My sledging hammer lies declined, my bellows too have lost their wind
My fire's extinct, my forge decay'd, and in the dust my vice is laid
My coal is spent, my iron's gone
My nails are drove, my work is done
Lord receive my soul
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