Let the Research Commence
I awoke to another wet day today. I didn't sleep well again (lots of tossing and turning and weird dreams), so I was slow to get a move on. I had hoped to be on my way to Preston by 10 a.m., but it was rolling toward 12 before I finally got out the door.
I took the bus into town and got off at the railway station, because I needed to stop at Wilkinson's on the way to the library to pick up some nail polish remover. The thing is, I don't know Preston all that well. I can get to the library no problem, but when I last went to Wilkinson's on Saturday, we went there from the library. I wasn't sure what way to go. In Florida, I never get lost, because I carry a mental map. So long as I'm not on an island, I have a natural sense of direction and can work my way around. But it takes me a few weeks to develop that sense outside of the state. Thus, I don't have it for Preston. So . . . I got a bit lost. Not lost as in, OMG where am I?! lost. But lost as in the street I walked down didn't deliver me where I hoped it would and I couldn't quite suss out how to remedy it without going back.
I texted Steve, but he was still working out. So I just retraced my steps and ducked into The Mall. I know The Mall opens onto Friargate, which is where I wanted to go. I just needed to find the right exit - which I did without trouble. So I had a little bit of an adventure on my way to library.
The real adventure began in the library, though. As I staked my claim on the end of one large wooden table, I pulled out the list of books I wanted to read over and began my journey. I've been reading books since I got here, enveloping myself in Preston history. I wanted a feel for the era and area, so I could begin to develop a theory. But now I was going to start more of the nitty-gritty work. It's still in the secondary sources, but these sources date to the 1800s. So it's pretty exciting.
Or it was until I began pulling out various books one-by-one and realizing they really didn't tell me anything I needed. Then I sat there and wondered what it was, exactly, that I needed. Should I be looking up the Parlimentary election records? Maybe the housing records are a better idea? Where should I be looking? What should I be asking. OH MY GOD . . . I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING!!
Fighting off that brief wave of panic, I reminded myself that I'm just beginning my quest and forced myself to cast the net out wide again. I grabbed a couple of general history books of Preston (one from 1883 and one from 1992) and began reading them. The earlier version, which I've perused before, gave me a lot of what happened, but didn't delve into the why so much. I moved to the 1992 book and found the whys. I also found a helpful bibliography (the first in close to a dozen books I've gone through since getting here) and notes that actually made sense.
Several pages of notes later and with blood sugar dropping (I forgot to pack a snack bar), I decided to make my way home. As I rode the bus home, I thought about some new and unexpected info I found. On the surface, it's not all that shocking. But as I thought about it, I realized it might fit into the puzzle I'm attempting to assemble. I have to do more research. but I must admit, I think it will probably lead to a dead end. Despite that, I'm not discouraged. Why? Because at some point during my research today, I quit thinking like a grad student writing a research paper and began thinking like an historian. And that was a pretty cool thing to discover.
The front of the Harris library and museum - this week's home away from home.
I took the bus into town and got off at the railway station, because I needed to stop at Wilkinson's on the way to the library to pick up some nail polish remover. The thing is, I don't know Preston all that well. I can get to the library no problem, but when I last went to Wilkinson's on Saturday, we went there from the library. I wasn't sure what way to go. In Florida, I never get lost, because I carry a mental map. So long as I'm not on an island, I have a natural sense of direction and can work my way around. But it takes me a few weeks to develop that sense outside of the state. Thus, I don't have it for Preston. So . . . I got a bit lost. Not lost as in, OMG where am I?! lost. But lost as in the street I walked down didn't deliver me where I hoped it would and I couldn't quite suss out how to remedy it without going back.
I texted Steve, but he was still working out. So I just retraced my steps and ducked into The Mall. I know The Mall opens onto Friargate, which is where I wanted to go. I just needed to find the right exit - which I did without trouble. So I had a little bit of an adventure on my way to library.
The real adventure began in the library, though. As I staked my claim on the end of one large wooden table, I pulled out the list of books I wanted to read over and began my journey. I've been reading books since I got here, enveloping myself in Preston history. I wanted a feel for the era and area, so I could begin to develop a theory. But now I was going to start more of the nitty-gritty work. It's still in the secondary sources, but these sources date to the 1800s. So it's pretty exciting.
Or it was until I began pulling out various books one-by-one and realizing they really didn't tell me anything I needed. Then I sat there and wondered what it was, exactly, that I needed. Should I be looking up the Parlimentary election records? Maybe the housing records are a better idea? Where should I be looking? What should I be asking. OH MY GOD . . . I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING!!
Fighting off that brief wave of panic, I reminded myself that I'm just beginning my quest and forced myself to cast the net out wide again. I grabbed a couple of general history books of Preston (one from 1883 and one from 1992) and began reading them. The earlier version, which I've perused before, gave me a lot of what happened, but didn't delve into the why so much. I moved to the 1992 book and found the whys. I also found a helpful bibliography (the first in close to a dozen books I've gone through since getting here) and notes that actually made sense.
Several pages of notes later and with blood sugar dropping (I forgot to pack a snack bar), I decided to make my way home. As I rode the bus home, I thought about some new and unexpected info I found. On the surface, it's not all that shocking. But as I thought about it, I realized it might fit into the puzzle I'm attempting to assemble. I have to do more research. but I must admit, I think it will probably lead to a dead end. Despite that, I'm not discouraged. Why? Because at some point during my research today, I quit thinking like a grad student writing a research paper and began thinking like an historian. And that was a pretty cool thing to discover.
The front of the Harris library and museum - this week's home away from home.
Deanne, you are so brave for venturing off solo to do your research. I'm eager to hear how you track down your sources and cull through the newspapers, books and records. I will be facing similar challenges very soon! Germany is fabulous ... but I fall in love with every place I ever go. I love your blogs ... keep them coming!!
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