Family Tree Surprises

 

Whilst searching my family tree I discovered some branch or other flourished in Greece. One such old ancestor is Quentin Zorba the Greek. He lived around 370 BC and worked as an assistant to a certain doctor called Hippocrates. As the name implies, he was a vet who treated hippopotamuses. Hippocrates that is, not my relative Quentin. He invented the Hippocritical Oath which promised that he'd heal any hippopotamus regardless to the danger to himself. As there were no hippos in Greece his promise was never tested. So he healed hippies instead. 

Another Greek relative I discovered also went by the same name; Quentin Bouzouki. He lived around 470 BC and knew the Greek philosopher Heraclitus. Apparently the philosopher didn't like people in general. He was always sad and melancholy, (face like a melon and body like a collie), and always cried in his beer in the pub despite Quentin's corny jokes. He was known as the "Weeping Philosopher"; especially on that day when Quentin put some lobsters in his bath-tub as a joke.

One day Heraclitus got sick with dropsy and no doctor could cure him. So he decided to cure himself by covering his body with cow manure and sitting in the sun for it to bake. This certainly did the trick. He died within a day. Which goes to prove - when you're up to your neck in **** don't sit in public for all to see.

As a sideline, and also leading to the discovery of another relative named Quentin "the writer"; I have not been able to find his surname. As you know, Homer was a Greek author living around 850 BC and is thought to have written two outstanding books called the Iliad and the Odyssey. Unfortunately, opinion is divided as to whether Homer actually wrote both works; a bit like the debate about whether Shakespeare did actually write all that he wrote. After various attempts to contact the  original publishers to find out the truth it was discovered that they'd gone out of business. However, rumours have it from my research, that Quentin was the writer and Homer the editor of these works. I tried to read them but did not understand a word. It was all Greek to me.

Family Tree Surprises

 

It's amazing what surprises you discover when you search you family tree on-line. I have found out that one of my ancestors dates back to ancient Romans time. His name was Quentin Caesar Salad. He was called salad because of the varied and interesting amount of knowledge and accumulation of facts he had stored in a lifetime of studying. Indeed he was a sage who knew his onions. Nicknamed sage and onions stuffing.

Quentin Caesar Salad invented Roman numerals. He convinced the Emperor Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus that instead of counting his enemies as individuals it would be easier to mark on the wall a vertical line like an I for each enemy he had and then count all the Is. The idea soon caught on and Quentin was a hero. Everyone counted in Is instead of counting the items in question. 

There were Is everywhere in ancient Rome. You couldn't go anywhere without Is staring at you. Hence the saying, "walls have Is".     

All street names, days on the calendar and chariots registration numbers had the Roman numeral I for identification. Can you imagine writing the day 31 January as IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII. Count them. (You did?)

The idea stopped because chariot registration numbers grew so wide with the number of IIIIIs on them that the registration plate knocked pedestrians over as the chariots rushed by. Often chariots got stuck between two trees, (sorry ... II trees), as chariots sped by.  

That's when Quentin came up with a new idea to save losing his head. 

He suggested the introduction of new symbols. When we reach the number 4 it be written as IV, 5 as V, 6 as VI and so on until 8. Then he changed his mind and decided that IX would represent 9, X for 10, XI for 11 and so on. Then he added new letters for good measure. For example L for 50, C for 100, D for 500 and M for 1000.

For a while all was well and the Romans were happy counting in this new way. Then one day, the Emperor Nero received a strange text saying – I LV CLAVDIVS – and he didn’t know whether it was a misdirected amorous message from his wife to Claudius the slave, or his wife’s new telephone number.

So in a rage the Emperor banned the use of all cell-phones from the whole of the Roman Empire.

Nothing was heard from Quentin Caesar Salad after that. Or Claudius the slave for that matter.

Family Tree Surprise

 

Some of the most observant readers here will have noticed on the right hand side-bar the Coat of Arms of one of my ancestors dating back to medieval times. His name was Richard the Lion Liver. Click on the Coat of Arms to learn more about him.

I hope in the next few weeks to introduce other relatives of mine as I research my family tree surprises. 

Another relative I discovered some years back is Aunt Gertrude who at the time lived in Australia. I contacted her and she came to visit us for several (long) weeks.

Whilst she was with us we also heard that our Uncle Herbert from Dundee was not well. So we decided to drive up to Scotland as a family, with Aunt Gertrude from Australia, and stay with him for a few days until he is better. The old man lives alone, and for some unknown reason he got to like Aunt Gertrude. So we decided a visit would do him the world of good.

Unfortunately, the day before we were due to set off I fell off a ladder whilst cutting a tree in the garden. Not much damage done to the tree but I twisted my ankle badly and could not drive.

So it was decided that I’d stay home, and the family with Auntie would travel by train. But she refused. She said the journey was too long for her and she’d rather not go.

This is a woman who came a thousand plus miles from Australia and yet is refusing to travel a few hundred miles to Scotland.

I tried to encourage her to no avail. I would have gladly paid for a one-way ticket to anywhere in the world to avoid being in the house alone with her but I could not shift her. The last time I was alone with her she fed me cat food!

On the day in question they all left and I was alone with Aunt Gertrude who decided to make me better. She prepared chicken soup which apparently is good for invalids.

I told her it was mid-summer and that I hated chicken soup, and besides a twisted ankle does not make one an invalid. She said it contained pearl barley which is good for you!

After I was fed the soup she suggested we pray together for me to get better.

What? I had no intention of praying with her. But she insisted.

She started with the Rosary and then a number of readings from the Bible followed by other prayers and pleadings to the Lord for my health and that of the whole family, including their safe travel there and back, and not forgetting Uncle Herbert.

To be fair, not once during the prayers did she say “cobber” or “fair dinkum” or “no worries” or any of her other Australian sayings; which no doubt pleased the Good Lord no end.

Then, to make conversation, she said she’d been to that posh department store in London on her last visit and bought something unusual to send back to a friend of hers in Adelaide.

“Oh yes …” I said feigning some interest.

“It’s a Santa Claus costume” she said, “I bought it for a friend who has been asked to be Santa at the local church fete!”

“But … it’s the middle of summer!” I mumbled with a smile.

“I know, cobber … I’ll be posting it to him on Monday … I’d like you to try it first to check the size is right. My friend is about the same size as you and well rotund round the waist too …”

She has a nice way of flattering people, I thought. Before I could say anything she’d been to her room and returned with the red costume. I tried the heavy jacket on first, and then the red trousers too, and I even put on the white beard, just to humour her. As I stood up so she could check the costume for length I accidentally stood on a stupid plastic toy which had been left on the floor.

I heard it crack underneath me and felt the pain of my twisted ankle shoot up my leg. I let out a cry as I collapsed back on the sofa.

“Dear Lord … are you OK cobber!” she cried in a panic, “don’t move fella …” she continued as I nodded that I was OK.

She went out of the room and left me alone to recover slowly from the shooting pains. About ten or so minutes later I heard voices from the front door. Two ambulance men entered the room …

Apparently, when she heard the loud crack under my foot she thought I’d broken a bone and phoned for an ambulance.

The two paramedics checked me out and said I was OK. I tried to explain why I was wearing a Santa costume and one of them said: “Don’t worry sir. We’ve been to a number of call-out situations and have seen many sights. We’ve learnt to be discreet and never ask questions!”

What exactly did he mean by that?

To make matters worse, the other ambulance man, the one who said nothing, is a Deacon at our church, and he plays golf in my club too.

I am so angry at the mad woman that I am still fuming days afterwards. The rest of the family think it is all very funny.

Auntie Gertrude said, “Lighten up cobber … if you’d lost some weight round your waist you would have seen the toy on the ground!”

EXCERPT FROM MY BOOK

 

AMAZON LINK HERE