Sheltering

There was a fair bit of rain overnight. This seemed like a good excuse to shelter indoors and spend some time on genealogy. (Do you really think the Gorse Fox needs an excuse?)

The first order of the day, however, excluding breakfast, was to chase down the order for the sink washers that the Gorse Fox requested several weeks ago. Sure enough, they had arrived but nobody had thought to inform him. He drove in to Chichester (a very slow process today) and wandered in to the harwdware store.

"Excuse me, my good man, Oh, I mean woman; I have come to collect my washers".

"Are you sure they have arrived?" she countered.

"I called you this very morning and you assured me they had arrived".

"Name?"

"Gorse Fox"

"Ok I'll take a look". She said as she disappeared into a wormhole.

Several decades passed at this point and she finally returned claiming they weren't there. At this point, her clean shaven colleague intervened. 

"I remember placing the order" he confessed, "I'll go and take a look"

Another decade passed.

He returned, having grown a full beard by now, clutching a box large enough for the Gorse Fox to have parked his car and sheltered four or five homeless people within.

"Here they are" he said, as he passed the Gorse Fox three washers that would fit into his shirt pocket.

The Gorse Fox headed home and fixed the leaking plug, then filed the two spare washers somewhere he will never find them when he needs to repeat the process.

The rest of the day has been a bit tedious. Some new Scottish and Irish Catholic records have been released but despite every trick he could think of, the Gorse Fox failed to find any of his ancestors. In a fit of pique, he returned to the process of matching old addresses to locations, where they have been subsumed by more recent developments.