Well after our slightly frenetic trip to South Australia it's back to some sort of normality.
While we enjoyed our road trip, it also reminded us that we haven't quite mastered the idea of slow travel, and even though we split our return leg into sensible sized chunks, and had a day off in Echuca, it was really a bit silly.
Better to have gone a little less far and taken some more time off on the return journey.
However, we're back now and I had my usual Friday session up at the Athenaeum working on trying to put together a controlled vocabulary of the publishers.
Most of them aren't too hard - A and B started in the 1880's merged in the early 1900's, somehow survived into the 1960's and then got bought by some megacorp - and wikipedia is quite good as a source.
There are of course these ones who vanished, victims of recession and world wars, but they've usually left some sort of a trace.
However, there are those small publishers of what we can loosely call 'pulp fiction' that appeared and then disappeared.
These ones are actually quite important as they often were the publishers of both detective and wild west novels for which there was a considerable appetite in the 1920s and 1930s - Agatha Christie might be the doyenne of interwar crime fiction, but she was by no means the only popular author, and as I've said elsewhere, the heritage book collection lets us see what people actually wanted to read, the popular fiction of the time.
Not all of them turn out to be what they first seem:
I spent an hour or so trying to track down a single publisher who seemed to have left absolutely no trace whatsoever, despite publishing books by Dane Coolidge, who while mainly known for his cowboy novels, was also a serious naturalist, anthropologist and photographer, documenting some of the last indigenous peoples of the south western United States.
Most of his books were originally published by Avon in the United States, but they were written at a time when the book trade in Australia was dominated by UK, not US, imports.
According to the catalogue list, which we know has errors, the novel in question was published by Steppington and sons.
I could not trace the publisher, even after searching the Library of Congress catalogue.
Various editions, published by various publishers existed but no Steppington and sons.
And then I had a brainwave - I tried the British Library catalogue, and there it was, published by Skeffington and sons, a small British publisher that started in the 1850s publishing primarily Christian literature but later moved into publishing wider range of works, including one by Conan Doyle which had previously been serialised in various newspapers and magazines.
Well, I guess I'm not the only one with illegible handwriting, and when the original handwritten record was transcribed, Skeffington had been mis-read as Steppington.
Lesson learned - always check the British Library catalogue entry for a book if you can't easily identify the publisher. And it also shows how important for putting together a controlled vocabulary of publishers is for data quality.
I also had a look back at the family history work I did during the pandemic.
Some of it is interesting, a lot of it is quite boring to anyone but myself, but it's all a bit disorganised, because in the main I used it as a sort of distraction from what was going on the world around me - and remember we had quite a few lockdowns over the first two years of the pandemic here in Victoria - rather than treating it as a serious exercise.
I would trace a bit, find something interesting, stop, and then go off down another rabbit hole. Unstructured, I think is the polite way of describing my approach.
Ideally I ought to organise the material and put it together in some sort of a usable fashion, but I have a quasi-technical dilemma.
When I was doing this originally I used J's old imac which had a 21" screen to read and transcribe old census records and the like.
That was ideal as the screen was a decent resolution and big enough to comfortably display a scanned page.
Well, five years on the old imac has gone to the recycler, as has its successor, and while I've got several computers with decent enough resolution screens they are all laptops with naturally smaller screens.
I could of course buy a decent second hand monitor and use it as an external display, but for almost the same money I could pick up one of these all in one windows machines you often see on receptionists' desks, which has a large screen and install Linux on it - Linux because the Gramps genealogical package works well under Linux.
That would give me a dedicated family history workstation I could stick in a corner of J's outside studio rather than trying to find space to leave a laptop and an external monitor set up somewhere.
I can't decide which way to go, buying an extra machine seems silly when I've got some perfectly capable Linux laptops already, but equally it's more compact solution and I'm a bit constrained for desk space ...
[Update 06/04/2025]
Well, I spent the morning patching my Linux machines - clock's change day seemed an ideal time for it, especially as the morning was cloudy and cold, and that has helped me come to a conclusion of sorts - procrastinate with a purpose.
So my workplan, as added to Trello, looks like this:
Draw together all my existing material, sort out some of the inconsistencies in my existing GEDCOM database, ensure that my various existing scans of census records etc are correctly annotated, and then review where we are with things, and decide then if I need another machine, or a bigger monitor.
There's no urgency to purchase either, decent second hand examples are not that hard to find, and even if they disappear for a week or two, the end of the financial year in July usually brings a new tranche of ex- lease equipment ...