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14 Feb 2016

Envelopes ahoy: Ordering government certificates

Any day now I'll be treated to the pitter-patter of tiny facts as the postman plans to ring twice. I've a set of birth and death certificates due to arrive next weekend, and a set of wills scheduled to appear on Leap Day.

I have bitten on the bullet, as you English say, and decided to throw all my spare coins at that well known slot machine, the General Register Office and Probate Registry.

"Can I take your date of birth please, well as long as you give it me back."

I am thinking that my two toughest ladies 🚺, Charlotte Smith and Eva Walker, might just quit their hide-n-seek if I knew their dates of birth. They might still be in Britain in 1939, aged 59 and 42. Here's hoping the 1939 register will help me with that.

Mussolini-luvva Arthur Taylor turned up in the Italian alps after leaving England and disappearing. I found his daughter in Sicily about a year ago and I'm only ready now to find what I expect will be a dead end. Just maybe there's cousins in Ragusa, Europe's southern most city, but I'm not holding my breath.

All the facts are coming soon any road, with a Knock, Ring and letters through my door.

1 comment:

  1. Update


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