Everyday when I look in the mirror I see my mother looking back at me!

When I hear Jennie  with her children, I hear myself.  When she tries another new craft, or  makes preserves I see my mother. My mother was never without some form of craft work,  and even when she became increasingly disabled in her latter years she sat knitting socks. When I was younger she used to make enough pickles or preserves  to feed us through the winter. 

Now Cheeky has taken it another generation. I was used to him reminding me of Jennie at that age, but yesterday he came rushing in with a handful of raspberries for me. “I grew them myself,” he informed me proudly. This immediately took me back to when my father used to hand my mother the first runner beans of the season, or the first bunch of sweet peas.  Cheeky  loves grubbing around in the soil and has his own set of gardening tools.

JW  has been in agriculture and in journalism, and, until we started doing family history, had no idea that these professions had been in his family.

So, is it genetic or environment which makes us into the people we are?