Does anyone still recite the nursery rhyme “Monday’s child”? I believe it was written to help children learn the days of the week. It goes: Monday’s child is fair of face Tuesday’s child is full of grace Wednesday’s child is full of woe Thursday’s child has
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe once wrote, “Letters are among the most significant memorial a person can leave behind them.” If I can make a judgement from this comment alone, my parents, especially my father, left me a very substantial way to remember them. The tub in the photo only holds
Apparently my grandmother kept a diary. It was brought to my attention last week when a friend, who speaks Russian, was kind enough to look through the documents I have. With her help I have been able to label and sort the various papers. Now I know what I should
Dr Seuss usually knew what he was talking about, but he obviously did not know my family. Amongst a raft of other things I found in my parent’s house after their respective deaths, were an awful lot of maps, both old and new. Pictured above are three examples. Unfortunately the
I have set myself a task for the first half of 2020. I would like to find the places my grandparents lived and worked in France, after their escape from Russia. This much I know: My grandparents were evacuated in March 1920 from the Port of Novorossiysk on the Black
I am slowly transcribing notes my grandmother, Olga Woronoff, née Countess Kleinmichel, wrote over the years. The other day I came across this story which must have taken place on Christmas Eve 1921, somewhere in the South of France. I have narrowed it down to 1921 as there is no