Hello Black Sheep, it’s been a while…

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ancestors, black sheep, Cuban Missile Crisis, family history, family stories, family tree, Fidel Castro, Indiana, memoirs, remembrance, Taliban, United States, Vietnam, writing

You may recall my recent proclamation:  ”Sis Hit the Jackpot.”  Toward the end of last year Sharon managed to score a half dozen tubs full of “stuff” from an elderly Aunt’s house.  So far the “yield” has not disappointed.  All sorts of photos and memories are crammed into the boxes within boxes.  The other day, gold was struck in the bottom of Tub #3.  It was there that a cousin we had lost was suddenly found and accounted for.

Danny’s disappearance from our home state (and pretty much the face of the earth) was explained with the contents of a worn legal sized envelope.   A wad of old newspaper clippings from the 60s unfolded the story of what must have been a terribly painful chapter for one branch of our family. 

Mom note: I don’t think Aunt SueEllen cared a wink about “concealing” this family skeleton.  I really believe she just never got around to looking through this insurmountable pile of “stuff.” Besides, I don’t think “Danny” ever won any familial popularity contests.

At first glance under current  standards of morality, the whole ruckus seemed kinda silly. Danny hadn’t fallen into a mysterious sink hole or been filched by space monsters, he was in fact removed (relocated might be a nicer way to put it) for his own good.   To a modern observer, banishment could seem like an “over reaction” on the part of his staunchly Republican, cigar smoking, politically influential and highly conservative dad.  But once put into context the horrific story became crystal clear.

Let me explain

Revealed on those crumbly old pages was that daddy’s little darling was involved in one of those “Hippy sit-in protest things.” It was a distasteful act~ rife with disrespect of his family and their social standing.  But hey, come on, he was barely out of his teens. And, granted, this took place at Dad’s Alma Mater~ which Danny probably wasn’t smart enough to get into on his own merits (and thus rode the coattails of his father’s Magna-Cum-Status).

So what if Danny’s little “episode” was embarrassing to his family and mocked all that assured him the right to behave so ridiculously in the first place?  How could it have possibly been made into such a big deal?  Well, for that we look to the back story and the facts of the matter:   Danny’s father was very big in politics.  And as the History Channel now tells us the Cuban Missile Crisis  actually panned out to be a big deal…

Seriously?  Danny’s family all lived on farms in Indiana for Pete’s sake.  The Indy 500 sure was a far cry from Fidel’s rockets or those Kennedy boys.

The simple truth was that Danny was in a little deeper than a disruption at the country club. Seems ol’ Danny had always been quite the loose canon.  Growing up he could have been easily described as a boy of privilege who never really appreciated what had been handed to him.  He left small town Indiana for the fancy far away University at a time in history when free love and “self expression” squared off with a nasty oversees war. In those times the emotional gauge of our nation was running  hot.   Hair was long and even “peaceful” tempers were short.  The Indochina “conflict” in Vietnam was  devouring young men by the thousands. Meanwhile many of their own high school classmates were safely in dorm rooms on campus protesting for “peace.” Everything and everywhere was a powder keg politically.

Danny wanted a little attention, a shot at campus fame.

When he decided to join a league of “enlightened individuals who sought peace for the downtrodden” he was pledging allegiance with a bunch of other rich kids who were flirting with the 1960s era equivalent of the Taliban.  The “sit in” that they orchestrated at their prestigious University garnered national attention.  What soon followed involved arrests and charges of treason and other not-so-nice accusations. Danny put his own life and that of his family in real danger.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t the first time Danny had made a “scene.”  He had rolled past several earlier brushes with the law. Petty little embarrassments like possession charges, under age drinking and reckless driving and motorboat operating.

Within family circles there were always whispers of some darker happenings too~about some poor girl at a party and Danny being…well…Danny.

I recall seeing him once when he was “secretly” within our state boundaries for my Great Grandpa’s birthday.  When I asked one of my young aunts who he was she commented:

“That’s Danny, he’s a real Creep. Stay clear of him if you know what I mean.” 

I didn’t know what she meant, but it sounded bad, so I took her at her word and stayed glued to my Dad’s side for the duration of the day’s festivities.

Turns out that my Uncle was able to pull some strings and cut a deal with the FBI.  Yes, I said that.  It went that far.  Indiana didn’t want him around, so it was agreed that Danny would be better suited to a life outside of the Hoosier state.  As far away as land could separate him, his dad sent him off to a remote little coast to set up trade as an asparagus farmer.  Back to his agricultural roots.  Somewhere far enough away from everybody else that he would have to “sit” pretty loudly for anyone to notice he was protesting something.  It was for his own good.  It kept him out of prison.

Stupid kid.  Powerful Dad.  Lucky break.  Sort of.

There are many ways a parent can lose a child.  All of them are dreadful.  No matter what the situation is, no matter how quick or protracted, the pain of losing a child  is said to be immeasurable.  I think that loosing one to their own hurtful decisions, choices, or madness is probably the worst loss of all of the unthinkable tragedies. No amount of help ever helps, they just keep on that troubled path, almost like they are made for hurting themselves and everyone around them.  As I see it, to be cast out by your family,  to be written off and sent permanently away, must bitterly sting at your marrow.  But to be the parent who is forced to take that desperate action, well…that truly must hold down the floor in one’s own earthly corner of hell.

After we found this info in the box, I did quite a bit of Google searching to see if there was any additional info around.  Crazy as it sounds, a bit of the court transcript is posted on the internet.  Also, the bunch of nuts he was running with at the time apparently still host “reunions” from time to time.  At least one of the guys involved is an avid blogger~go figure!   As far as I can tell, Danny’s still farming asparagus on that remote coast.  So Karl Danny, if you happen to read this and feel you want your side of the story told, it’s solely up to you cousin…you know what they say~

Maybe someone should write that down…

A Rose is a Rose Gladys

Tags

Balkans, Ellis Island, family history, family stories, history, Kathryn, United States, writing

Well, well, well…

The subject of “names” is a rather touchy one in some factions of the family…around here anyway.  I was named “Kathryn” as a political move.  I had enough Grandmothers on all sides with that name, in various spellings, and at various positions (first, middle, patron saint, baptismal) to make most of them happy.  I was not the first grandchild on either side of my family, but I was the first granddaughter on both sides!  Another of my illustrious firsts.

When I went to school, there were 7 little girls in 1st grade at Perry Elementary named Kathryn in some form or another.  So, probably, their families had the same sort of “thing” going on.  If this had been a big school, then Cathy, Kathy, Kathryn, Cathleen, Katherine, Katy, and other Kathryn would have been insignificant.  However, this was a farming community.  The schools were small.  The 4 feeder grade schools that lead to my high school produced a grand total of 265 in my senior class.  By the time we all converged in the spiffy new Middle School, I had lost count (and interest) in how many other girls had “my” name.

My brother though, had it a bit rougher with family names.  Ours is a long line of “traditional” men’s names.  The first born pretty much was going to be a Junior, and if not a Junior (or 3rd, or 4th) then perhaps would be named after the other Grandpa, or a middle name.  My brother didn’t get a chance at something modernish…like Scott or Brian… point of his birth, the options available were Frank, George, Earl, Henry/Harry or the scandal of picking a meaningless name out of the air…like Bobby.  They did not choose Bobby.

Darling Gramcracker, ever sensitive to my needs as an individual in this sea of Kathryns, gave me a unique and extended name to claim as my own.  Or, possibly, she told me this was my full name because she also had a wicked sense of humor and loved having me say it and seeing the reaction of strangers.

She crowned me:  Kathryn Elaine Martha Elizabeth Gladiolus Rose Mousy Get-Along Johnson.  Gramcracker called me Goldie for short.

Until I got in trouble for “fibbing” in Kindergarten  I was convinced and unquestioning of my full name.  As a matter of fact, I wondered why the other kids had such common and plain middle names. Being “cut down” to the reality of Kathryn Elaine was a real bummer.

Surnames though, can be a whole different matter.  My Balkan grandparents brought their old country name along when they crossed the pond.  Those who I refer to as the Urbanski clan, are actually owners of an unspeakable (literally, no one can pronounce it) name which when translated from Slovene to English means “putrid smell.” With hopes that this was just another example of the family sense of humor, I quietly wondered if this wasn’t a joke.  I had visions of my “huddled masses” Granddad standing before the man at Ellis Island and when asked for his name…making a smart- assed remark back at him in Slovene~ only to be countered in hilarity by the immigrations agent who made it official.  No such luck.  The international white pages online lists a handful of families both here in the US and back in the Balkans living with the exact same surname…spelling and all.  No denying it.  Sigh (or would a “sniff” be a more accurate expression here?).

Sadly, they buckled to the mounting pressures of anti-German and anti-immigrant sentiments that swept our area around WWI and “Americanized” their name ~ neutralized it actually.  I see myself writing “sadly” but under my breath I am saying “thank God they changed it!” I can’t imagine writing that 5th grade report for school about my heraldry, and revealing to my prepubescent peer group that I was not the glamorous K.E.M.E.G.R.M.G. Johnson, but in fact Miss Kathryn Pukesmell.

Ask around your family, are there any naming patterns, revisions, or scandalous translations out there?  Maybe take a few minutes and run down one or two nicknames of relatives.  These can be as commonly used as Kassie for Kathryn, or as ornery as a brother who called a sister “Twin Piggies” for an entire lifetime…that’s another story

Recipes of the Family

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Baking, Balkan, Bread, Easter, family historian, family history, Google, Jesus, Nell, Pillsbury Doughboy, potica, Slovenia, writing

Easter is just around the corner.  Last year was kinda fun, as my sister and I dragged out box after box of old family photos and held a full out scanner fest.  But as the Bunny fires up for egg painting this year, my nerves feel a bit jumpy already.  I will once again be challenged (expected, assumed. pressured) to bake the traditional Slovenian treat for our family…the Potica.  For those of you with no Balkan heritage…it’s “Po-teets-zah.”  For me, it’s a  Panic Attack. Now this is by no means the first time I’ve made the Potica.  It’s been my job now for several years since my Grandma quit baking it.  Apparently this skips a generation, so my aunts and mom just crowned me Princess Potica and before I knew it…I was in charge.So,  I make it for each of the big family celebrations, and then, kind of like Jesus, I take a beating for it.  Let me clarify that ~  I make the complicated yeast and nut delight, and then sit back and listen to everyone else critique it, and wax poetic over the Poticas (the real Poticas) of days gone by.

How I haven’t spent a holiday in jail yet I do not know.

Oh, I get it.  I really do.  I understand why I am the one who is saddled with the honor of carrying on an old country tradition.  I can bake. And I am really good at it.  I had my own coffee house for several years, and baked everything that went out the door.  But the problem with Potica (and in your family it could be aunt Nell’s potato salad) is that there is only one right way, one right recipe, and one right presentation that can be accepted and deigned as perfect.  Unfortunately, no one who went before me actually wrote the damn recipe down for “the real Potica“, exactly as they made it “when it was perfect“.

Let’s revisit that last line:  I want you to experience it as I hear it each time I offer up a Potica.  Say it for yourself aloud

with your nose crinkled up,

as if you are chewing an adult aspirin,

and it is stuck to the back of your tongue and you only have scalding hot coffee available to wash it down with..

now say the words.. like the real Potica, when it was perfect….

Is there a tear in the corner of your eye as if you have just been deeply harmed and dissappointed?  Good.  You’re getting the general tone of voice they use for Potica critiqing.  We can continue now

When my oldest daughter was receiving First Communion, we had a little ceremony a couple of days ahead of time, where each family was to involve their child in baking a loaf of bread and then bring it to church with all their classmates and their families for a special blessing of the loaves.  For Caitlin, I thought it would be cool, and perhaps more special to her if together we made Potica.  Since this was a sort of last minute thing, I went to the internet and trolled for some recipes.  This was the first time I had actually seen the word spelled out.  Luckily, I hit a site where the pronunciation was spelled out phonetically so was close to how I had “searched” for it (this was way before Google).  I looked through until I found a recipe (in English) that sounded about right.  We sifted, kneaded, rolled, filled and baked with delightful anticipation.  The smell in the kitchen was heaven.

Blessing of the loaves day was probably a little traumatizing for Cait.  Many of my Mom friends had chumped-out (having never baked bread before) and had purchased the frozen, thaw and bake stuff.  Their loaves were glorious mounds of buttery gold crusts. The Pillsbury Doughboy bakes up like a champ every time.   Our Potica (and yes we made 2 just to have a shot at choosing the best looking one to show off at church) looked like hemorrhaging cinnamon raisin bagels glopped together.  Not stellar.

After that “experience” I started checking around within the family for a good recipe.  Oddly, no one ever seemed to be able to put their hands on one.  That was probably 20 years ago.  Eventually,having learned my lesson, I gave up asking. Clearly, some family things are strictly on a “need to know basis.” As the older women in my family line all began passing on to their reward, the Potica making pool got smaller and smaller.  When Grandma Jean announced that she would be taking up residence in a rest home, suddenly, the baking baton was passed on to me.  Sans the recipe of course!

 

Luckily, my friend Karen gifted me with this well worn and dearly loved cookbook that had belonged to her Aunt Udi.  Udi had been the Potica maker for her family.  Karen naturally had no idea which of the more than 2 dozen recipes for the bread was Udi’s favorite, so I have been baking my way thru the book holiday after holiday.  With of course, all the feed back I can stand.

I’ll be on version #18 soon, wish me luck

Cures for Headlice and Other Maladies

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family, family history, genealogy, Head Lice, history, stories, T.W. Herringshaw, writing

          

           Ew yuck~ There I said it~ Lice !

Recently my husband came home and confessed that he had let a coworker in on my secret removal method.  I was stunned!

I couldn’t believe that:

1. he had admitted that it had ever happened in our house… and

2. that he really remembered something I’d done about 20 years ago.

I have a huge abiding love of old books.  I am especially drawn to Etiquette and “Women’s issues” titles.  I believe the oldest in my collection is from the 1830s, which isn’t ” but a wee youngster” compared to lots of my Euro-reader’s own family bookshelves…but when you consider that most of them were received as gifts or rooted out at tag sales…I’m living pretty large antiquarian- biblio-wise.

One of my absolute favorites is called

  The Science of Women 

Mulierology 

for the Maiden, Wife, and Mother

Mom Note:  This was,  as far as I can tell, a compilation put out by AB Gehman in 1888.  A man by the name of Thomas William Herringshaw claims to be the founder of this “Science of Women” that he named Mulierology, but as far as I have been able to discover, it is pretty much a made-up word, and there’s a little controversy over who it really is attributable to.

Modern in it’s time, Mulierology  gave advice to females in any condition, age or marital state.  A lengthy chapter describes the birthing of babies and the wise use of a heavy packing of goose grease to the traumatized tissues both on the interior and outer surfaces of the mother after birth.  Ew.  No wonder women died so frequently of  postpartum infections.  What genius conjured up goose grease as a “healing salve” for peritoneal tearing?  TW Herringshaw do you really want to take credit for that one?

There’s also a pretty hilarious discussion of birth control at the end of the volume.  I am especially fond of the description of the withdrawal method.  It is described as a leisurely paddle down the river, and then a gentle drifting and going only along as the surface takes the canoe, gently ebbing on its way in its own time.  The book goes on to caution though ~  This method is easily spoiled by turbulent thrusts and raging action against the current until one goes over the falls.  Mom is paraphrasing, I start laughing so hard everytime I read this, my eyes tear up and I can’t see well enough for an exact quote.

Not even kidding.

The “itches” as head lice (or probably any other creepy crawler living where it should not be) acording to Mulierology is to be relieved by frequent and hot suds baths followed by application of a sulfur paste to any immediately affected area.  All bedding, clothing and head wear must also be taken into clear air and sunlight, swept vigorously and then all brushes and combs treated with a sulfur powder.  This can also be mixed with water and taken internally in extreme cases

.

Nice to know

Fortunately (?) for my kids, I had no patience to sit around grinding up match tips to glean sulfur (I don’t know of a good 1800′s apothecary here in the Midwest).  So after weeks and weeks of waging war on these nuclear-bomb resistant pests, I devised my own method inspired by stories (tales of horror actually about dirty buggy families of my childhood).  No, I didn’t douse the kids in kerosine or gas.  But I sort of thought along those lines. Using a big box fan to blow the fumes away from their little faces and with towels held in place to protect their eyes, unloaded a whole bottle of hand sanitizer on each one’s itchy head.  I slapped a shower cap over each little noggin, waited a good half hour and then combed out the dead critters and their grossly engorged triple-sized swollen egg nits right out of all those blonde curls.  Honestly, do not try this at home.  I don’t think the kids remember the itching, but they sure remember the stinky fan treatment to “get the mice outta their heads.”

Like I said, that was years ago.  I figured the statute of limitations had run out on that Mommy Dearest moment.  Then home comes Daddy, feeling quite proud of himself for sharing the true and absolute “Mom Method for Removing Mice from Heads”  I think I’ll write a book and call it “DeMicerology : the Science of a Mom who Snapped after Weeks of Ineffective Lice Treatments”

I’m sure my kids are huddled together right now whispering…Maybe someone should write that down…

Uncle Joe

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family, Family History Writing Challenge, Frances Farmer, genealogy, Indianapolis, Ku Klux Klan, National Road, Philippines, stories, writing

    According to Parish records from Holy Trinity Church, John and Mary Urbanski had 10 children.  Of  10, only 2 girls and 2 boys survived to adulthood. Francis, Joe, Annie and Mitz were born , christened,communed, confessed and confirmed as Urbanskis.  Suddenly, around 1915, they all became “Smelters” an Americanized name, and a generic term describing John’s occupation at the time.    The ugliness of anti-German sentiment had overtaken people’s everyday lives and had crept  along the National Road  and deep into Indianapolis.  Suddenly, old street names like Germania were changed from German words and towns-names to  more “appropriately” American ones like Belmont Avenue.   Coinciding with the German hysteria, the KKK was recording its biggest membership surge since the days of the old South.  Thus being Catholic, being immigrants, sounding German (colloquially called Hunkies ) while speaking their Slovene native tongue all became rather lowly and dangerous.   Our  family was among many who changed their surname to blend in.  In those early years of the 20th century, being different or being “less” was both a social hindrance and potentially treacherous.

…Mom note: somethings just never change…

Neighborhood assimilation centers were set up to help all children and adults learn to be more American and to turn their backs on the lives they had left behind in “the Old Country”. The Ku Klux Klan was deeply entrenched in the small counties ringing the big city of Indianapolis, and there was a simmering contempt for anyone or anything that may have been in allegiance with the Kaiser.

John and Mary were raising their children in between the country folk to the west, and the eastward cultured city dwellers just across the White River bridge. Considered West Indianapolis at one time, their small neighborhood was now called Haughville named after the metals manufacturers plant located there by Haugh Brothers in the 1880′s.    Soon Haugh’s foundry was joined by the modern refrigerated packing business Kingans and the immigrant workers flooded in to take the jobs and simple frame housing.  They had been recruited and imported from their bergs and villages in places like Slovenia, Serbia, and Croatia. That’s how the Urbanskis came to Indianapolis and that’s how they made their living too.

 Grandmother saved every penny she could spare to buy up boarding houses.  For years  the parlor floor in the family’s own house was  “bedded up” for newly arrived workers who needed temporary lodging.  They had taken the long transatlantic ocean liner trip, paid in full by “the Company”,  made a connection by train and found themselves in Haughville on John and Mary’s floor…working in the mill, or the packing house, renting a space on the floor to sleep on, and in turn,  saving every penny they didn’t drink to bring their families over too.

Joe wasn’t the oldest of the children, but he was probably the tallest at about 6′. He was athletic and tough,a simple and hard-working man who chain smoked and stirred cream and sugar into his coffee in ritualistic trance-like manner. He played bush league baseball and was the big hitter on Holy Trinity’s men’s team. When he was 18, Joe was drafted into the army. When his hitch was up he joined again to serve in the place of his brother who was about be wed. I often wonder if he didn’t rejoin just for something bigger to do than spend his life running gutted pig carcasses from the slaughter hooks into the cold lockers at Kingans. He was after all, big and strong, so that’s likely where he would be headed for life.

Note: he is the tallest in the center of the back row in the photo. 

I’ve heard a tale or two of Joe in his younger rougher days.  Especially one about him and some buddies getting into a fist fight with some men from “somewhere else” passing by the corner tavern. All was regular Saturday night fun, when one of the outsiders added a 2×4 into the fray and started swinging. In Haughville it was considered “off-limits” to use weapons in a fist fight…a real sign of ungentlemanly behavior.   By the time the cops arrived, the crowd had disbursed and a half-dozen guys were laid out neatly along the gutter.  Bloody and semi-conscience the “strangers” were helped to their feet and sent on their way back toward the bridge.  To the frustration of the officers,  the tavern was filled with only law-abiding citizens enjoying an evening out. As a matter of fact, they were all having such a lovely time singing and carrying on, none had even noticed a ruckus outside on the steps. Odder still, the interlopers never bothered to visit Haughville again with or without their 2x4s .

 Joe discharged from the army after a couple of tours.  He had spent most of his time driving big supply trucks across the swampy roads of the Philippine islands.  Sometimes, at Grandpa’s he would start stirring his coffee and speaking about the giant black snakes… hundreds of them that would be all over the lonely roads at night when he was driving convoy.  He talked of how they must have needed the heat left in the road to warm their cold blood at night. Sometimes he described the thumping sounds of them hitting the bottom of the big trucks.  ” The sound never let up some nights, like all the snakes in the world were there in the Philippines.” I hung on every one of Joe’s words, and had the nightmares to prove it!

Headed home, Joe had saved up some money and following the wisdom of his  mother began buying rental properties.  He had small homes and duplexes and eventually bought a couple of small neighborhood apartment houses built-in the old style of shops below and rooms above.  One of the buildings was home to the laundry and dry cleaning store his sister Mitz ran.  Being in a good location (between the businessman’s downtown and the upscale homes of the Indianapolis old North Side) Mitz’s shop cleaned and starched clothing for local celebs and politicians.  After actress Frances Farmer was “treated” for her nervous breakdown (famously via a frontal lobotomy) she came to Indianapolis and hosted a television program on one of the local stations.  Aunt Mitz did the movie star’s alterations and cleaned her delicates for years from her shop in Uncle Joe’s building.  I’ve never been clear on whether Mitz or Joe owned the business.  I would speculate that it was there when he bought the building and he let Mitz run it as a way to support herself.  I couldn’t even say whether or not she paid a dime in rent.  Uncle Joe rarely talked about such things

Joe kept all the rentals as his investments.  All of John and Mary’s kids were desperately frightened of being poor.  Saving money and saving stuff (anything that could some day be useful to someone in the family) was always top priority for them. But he also worked for the Indiana University Medical School as a night watchman until he retired.  A family joke (or maybe it was truer than others wanted to admit) went that Joe guarded the cadaver room for 30 years and didn’t have a clue what was in there.

I mostly remember him as generally very quiet and reclusive.  We saw him at Grandpa’s occasionally on weekends before he went in for night shift.  He would pull into the drive in his massive dirty ivory colored Plymouth Fury. His car windows were legendarily coated in an amber toned vaseline-thick goo from years of smoking cigarettes.   If I saw him coming, I would run to the kitchen drawer where Grandpa kept Joe’s ashtray (it was like a beanbag on the bottom) and scurry to get a spoon out for his stirring.  I delighted in watching him swirl the pale sugary coffee and cream soup he made in his cup.  I listened to the funny old world way that he spoke (he held the accent and manner of speech of the old country that my Grandpa had worked so hard to erase from his own speech) and watched him punctuate sentences with his hands.  Uncle Joe also had the largest nose I had ever seen on a person.  It was just like Jimmy Durante…but since he was on tv and movies he really didn’t count as a real person.  Uncle Joe had a real-live Schnazola that was mercifully not passed on to the next generation.

When he died years ago, it was as a “confirmed” bachelor.  He is buried at the Catholic Cemetery,but I do  not recall a mass for his funeral. After his retirement from the night watchman’s job, he really had little to do and fell into the staid habits of a reclusive old man.  He must have had a heart attack and died without suffering.  He was found after lying dead alone in his home days later. Only his German Shepard dog was with him.

I think of him whenever I stir my coffee

Photo at top of page from the Holy Trinity Parish Diamond Jubilee celebration book:

Slaves To No One, written by James J. Divita

Duck and Cover !

Tags

Facebook, family, genealogy, history, story, Vietnam War, writers, writing

  ...or Why I use “As Told By” pages in my family histories

The other day on Facebook, I found myself in the middle of a simmering fight that seemed to be headed toward a full-out embroilment.  It involved my sister, an aunt, her dead father, and his long-dead immigrant parents – the “Urbanskis.”  I clicked “exit” and went grocery shopping.

  Days later when queried about my sudden disappearance from the on-screen skirmish, I feigned a “virus” that shut down my computer.  Thank goodness for cyber illnesses!

I don’t know if it is a common thing to have so many mule headed people in one family, or if we are just gatekeepers of the stubbornness gene.  But over the years, one writer’s trick in my bag has saved me many times over ~ “As Told By” pages.

It’s my theory that our memories are odd fuzzy filters steeped with emotions and previous experiences.  Our individual point of view is dependent on the “back story” written within our own heads.  This is shaded heavily by how our own experience in similar or imagined situations has panned out within roughly equal settings and/or participants.  Sometimes, it’s as simple as an unquestioning acceptance like~ “That’s what Dad said.  It is true and reliable.”

Some of the touchy subjects I run into as a researcher can easily cause an old wound to open or a fresh feud to start.  Rather than take an obvious side (the factual one) I try to draw a neutral line in the sand.  Using the “As Told By” heading honors the vantage point and belief of all who care to chime in, but still keeps the pot at a simmer instead of boiling over.

I do have to be clear here~  I believe that ALL sides are the truth.  I know that sounds nuts.  But I believe everyone because everyone’s individual story is factual in that it IS a part of how SOME of the family members believe that it happened.  Yep, we are the keepers of the crazy gene too.

Let me put it another way

These stories are all true in the sense that they are and were believable.  They are factual from each “Teller’s” point of view.  I report them as told by so that one version isn’t lost to the shadows by the others.  It’s easy to let others draw their own conclusions. I also think this lack of “side by side comparison” is how family secrets get blown out of proportion, or lost forever.  I guess I can understand a little bending of the facts.  While searching out Uncle Tony’s tenure in the French Foreign Legion…I found he actually spent those 6 years in Sing Sing for embezzlement…whoops! So, rather graciously I allowed Aunt Bertie  her “As Told By” and I had mine when she no-longer needed to hold on to a “variation of the records.”

My own beloved Gramcracker spoke of cousin Barabara’s nuptials as a “Shot Gun Wedding.”  Gram raged on about this for several years until time took her memory and she forgot to be mad at Barb anymore.   It was always her insistance that “No One Has Ever Shamed This Family~ Ever ~ until Barb!” that she took to the grave with her.  It seemed really important to her that she had descended from an unbroken chain of  poor but purely chaste women.

I elected to sew my own lips tight, and to seal up the file on Gramcracker’s own Grandmother who had miraculously birthed an 8# baby only five weeks after she and Grandfather married upon their arrival here in the US.

And Barb? Of course she had a dog in this fight too.  In her “As Told By” she tells the story of her wedding in a very different light.  She did wear white (because she didn’t want to upset Gramcracker …epic failure there) and went down the isle looking a bit more voluptuous than her tiny frame usually was.  But she also told the story of young love and a beau who was about to “ship out” during the Vietnam War years.

As for the Facebook fight?  Well, that was a new one on me.  I’ll have to look into it.  In the meantime

maybe someone should write that down…    

Sis Hits The Jackpot!

Tags

Christmas, family historian, family history, Gedcom, genealogy, Hee Haw, inspiration for genealogists, writing

If I were to face facts, I would admit that my little sister kicks my researching rear-end.  Daily.  On a regular basis.  Any day of the week.  Hands down, always.

Just before Christmas, Sharon hit the Jackpot.  She unearthed (pried from the clenched and unrelenting fists of) the tower of family history crowned jewels from another relative.  This was one of those “oh sure, I’ll keep that old crap and get to it someday” sort of piles.  A burden to some, but to a Family History Hound…food for the soul, ambrosia…heaven on earth.

Sharon has been busy over vacation “Gedcom loading” and sifting like a good genealogist.  I ran thru it like a cat in a litter box.  I wanted first dibs on all the photos and newspaper clippings.  Why would anyone care about the famous “Fat Twins” who appeared many times on Hee Haw (a silly television show where country folk whooped it up and poked fun at themselves), I am not sure, but there was a clipping in box#3.  Who was Mildred Ecke ?  She died November 15th, 1934 and apparently was someone who Grandpa cared enough about to save her obit.

For my sister the good genealogist, information is what was swaddled in those boxes.  For me, it was more like a mountain of questions and riddles.

Titillating.

What an incredible gift at year’s end.  We each got what we wanted.  In 5 very untidy boxes and one (yes, I am serious) picnic basket, all the sorrow, glory, tattling, whispers, and funkiness needed to keep us both busy for months, maybe years.

Hats off to Sharon, she loaded this all into her little bitty Dodge, by herself, and sped off to the “cave.”  That’s what she calls her office / family history library.  I get to dig thru it and share the thrill of the expedition vicariously as I listen to her tell the tale of her “score.”

It’s in gentle and capable hands now.  And she is a good “sharer” so it will be available and sorted soon.  My sister has already put a lot of thought into which local history society will be receiving the original documents once she has processed it all tidily.

Interesting…It would have never occurred to me to share with strangers.

Hmmm. 

So I would love to know, how do you feel about sharing your “own” discoveries, clippings, papers, documented photos and the like with an organized (and funded) Society?  Have you done this?  Considered it?

I have to admit that once again, my sister the researcher has taught me a lesson.  Dang it!  I think she just kicked my B-Hind again!

Happy New Year!

Mom

 

A trip to The Little Wash House

Nominated for a Versatile Blogger award, this Swiss delight takes a bow…addicting as smooth chocolate, she writes about the world around her and the adventures she finds in an everyday way…I like the wash house because~

Flattered

Posted on March 3, 2013

1

Kassie (aka “Mom”) of http://youwhoineverknew.wordpress.com  (Written as “Maybe someone should write that down…) very kindly passed an award to me – I hadn’t a clue what to do with it, but it seems I am now permitted to publish this

in a nice little post for you! Thanks very much, Kassie, now let’s see what I must accomplish to accept gracefully…

A. I seem to have managed the thanks already – it’s certainly flattering to have a reader who is willing to recommend me

B. Blogging is always a rather lopsided affair, I suppose. The parts of my life shown here are, naturally, only glimpses here and there of some of the more entertaining bits when I actually go anywhere or do something I feel merits any mention! Actually, I’m rather hoping that C. will give a slightly more rounded view of my interests, some of which I don’t think I’ve mentioned here before – my friends will hopefully not be miffed if I don’t mention them (family and other related blogs have had pointers their way before!) so let’s see what you think of these six…

C. My awards today go to:

- Meredith at http://onesheepishgirl.blogspot.ch, a young 20-something, artistic girl who has some very creative ideas and contributes to the Molly Makes spin-off, Gathered, mainly crochet and some knitting but also other crafts.

- Leslie lives on a houseboat and has just been forced to move away from her beloved Pete’s Harbor… http://asimplelifeafloat.blogspot.ch for breathtaking photos, a sorry power story, dog-love and an eye for good design.

- Courtney’s star has risen fast and I sincerely believe in her message of “less is more”! Plus her http://theproject333.com has slotted into and helped to drive a great movement that promotes community as much as anything else.

- Kent has tapped into something that utterly fascinates me: tiny living, over at http://tinyhouseblog.com, some beauties there.

- With 70 podcasts to her name, Alana is no newbie, though still very young: she’s a knitter extraordinaire with a lot of flair and has now put out two gorgeous knitwear collections herself and a children’s book with her daughter, as well as a lot of other designs - http://nevernotknitting.blogspot.ch to see what this perfectionist is offering!

and last but not least,

- the girls at http://thesixitemschallenge.wordpress.com/the-blog/ are fighting for better conditions in the sweatshops by accepting much tighter restrictions in their wardrobe challenges than even in Project 333!! I applaud them for doing this is in a very interesting visual manner… you can support them on Facebook, too.

(Hope I’ve done this right – I notice that some of my links end in the Swiss suffix .ch and not sure why, so you may have to change that to your own country’s code?! For some reason, links don’t come up properly, either, and you’ll have to copy-and-paste… computer technology is NOT my forte!! Sorry!!)

Mom’s Monthly Must-Dos for March

Tags

Children, collaborate, family history, family stories, Good Lord, Granny, history, Hoosiers, Indiana, Irish, March, Patrick, Saint Patrick's Day, Writers Resources

this little cutie is from the image collections available on The Old Design Shop web page

This is not my favorite month.  Maybe its a wee bit’o jealousy because the only Irish in my family’s DNA runs through my husband’s side of the equation.  St Patrick’s Day has always been a fun day of green beer and sheepish pretense.

I’m not Irish, but kiss me or pinch me anyway!  I do have green eyes though…the better to be “pea green with envy” with my dear…

Perhaps my disdainful attitude toward March is more about the weather here in the heartland.  Good Lord what a ride!  I, like many Hoosiers, dream of retirement in the desert, any desert.  A place where the humidity level rarely flinches.  Here, my sinus cavity is under a constant state of attack with it’s little faucet running full on, then suddenly dried up to a painful pinching sensation, only to find a tortured relief in the post-nasal agony of the drip..drip..drip.  Yep, Indiana weather~ if you don’t like it ~ stick around for an hour, it’ll change.

Regardless of the snow, no snow, shorts and t-shirt weather and/or tornado laden skies outside, we Family Historians must push on.  For that end, I offer you Mom’s Monthly Must-Dos for March~

1.  Do something really nice for yourself this month~ begin a little achievement journal.  Nothing big and fancy (unless you just crave that kind of candy…I don’t judge).  This can be as simple as making a to-do list on your calendar at the beginning of the week, and then checking off the “done-did-its” as you go.  It’s a gift to give yourself.  Mark down exciting (to you) stuff that happens on that day:  Found cousin Dehlia’s Christmas card with her contact info under the sofa cushion…bonus…also cleared the underside of all sofa cushions!

During points of drought over the seeker’s field, these can be reviewed to help you re-inspire yourself..  RahRah Me!

2.  Start getting the kids involved.  This is a great time to plan and gather.  Spring break car travel-time looms, or being stuck at home with “bored” loved ones.  Instead of hiding inside your head, invite them to start their own spiffy project. Call in the cousins for support and reinforcement.   If you would like to see a shining example of what a kid’s book can look like click the link and visit Raelyn of Telling Family Tales…all her little book projects are fringed with magnificence.  You don’t have to be this elaborate, just drink it in for inspiration ~ http://tellingfamilytales.com/2013/03/04/when-he-was-young/

3.  Toward the end of the month, send out another “mailing” to let everyone know you are still working on this project (call it the “story of us” or something clever and inclusive).  Include a little crumb of “reactive bait” like a photo, or a couple of little questions (as we did on the Musky fishing trips of February’s Must-Dos).  If you have been lucky enough to elicit a response or two from the last letter binge…build on it.  I find that others are kinda generous with sharing scans of photos, and that they love telling me about how much fun it was “digging thru the dusty boxes with mum” but, they don’t really convey the meat of that to me.

 Human nature

So, I then start feeding back to them…hey, that pic of Granny and Harry, where do you think that was taken?  Do you know about when?  What the heck were they doing there?

Then, it never hurts to throw in something utterly stupid (this is a great technique to get info…everyone loves “correcting” me). Ask a questions that you are sure you know the answer to ~

Say something really, profoundly, ignorant…”Did Harry have any bothers?”  This would be a good one if in fact, Harry comes from a brood of 10-12 assorted gender children, or was the younger brother of a famous prize-fighter, or was adopted as an infant or etc.  You aren’t fishing for muskies, you’re fishing for conversation….clever little darling that you are

Have fun with March where ever the weather and the “stupid questions” land you, and I hope you get kissed on St Paddy’s day too!

xoxo

Mom

Liebster Update ~ Meet Mrs P

Naughty Mrs P (exactly why I love her rebel-heart) nominated her top 11 picks, and then added a couple more…be sure to meet her here

And the Winner Is…

Posted on 24, February, 2013 by Mrs. P

I recently received a Leibster Award from Mom at Maybe Someone Should Write that Down… and I had two thoughts.  The first being that it was a very nice thing for her to do and the second was, what is it?

Leibster Award form Kassie of Maybe someone should write that down…

In a nutshell it is something that bloggers can send to other bloggers as a way to acknowledge that you like their blog.  It’s like a chain letter for bloggers with an added twist.  It helps lesser known bloggers to get noticed.  So it is a writer’s Show and Tell session.  As a teacher, I can relate to that and it sounds like a good way to promote myself and some other really cool bloggers.  So thank you Mom!  If you are into genealogy and family history you will especially like her blog.  Just click on the link above.
There are several parts to accepting this reward.

Acknowledge the person who nominated you and link to their site. (DONE)

Answer the 11 questions from the nominator. (Questions in italics)

1. If I weren’t blogging about this stuff I would be…  gardening, taking pictures and doing  projects like auto re-upholstery and refinishing furniture.
2. Who are you named after? No one, to my knowledge.
3.  I would like my epitaph to read as follows:  In the end…it was the little things that made life meaningful.
4. Favorite quote: That’s just Grand! (An expression my grandmother used when she was pleased about something.)
5. Something I will never understand is …why the leaders of our government seem to have the greatest inability to govern.
6. If  I could run around all day everyday, dressed any way that I pleased I would wear: comfortable casual clothes or pajamas.
7. What class do you wish you had paid more attention to in school? Science
8. Do you write full time?  No, but I think about writing full time…does that count?
9. What’s your dream job?  Being a research assistant for a Ken Burns documentary
10. Where is your dream Writer’s Corner? In a room with large windows and views of both the river and the ocean.  I’d sit in a big comfy chair with an equally comfy foot rest.  And I would be surrounded by lots of green foliage and a gentle breeze would wisp through the windows.  And I would have a really good computer that allowed me to dictate my thoughts onto the page so I didn’t have to try to type when I was still waking up.
11. What’s the craziest thing you have ever learned about your family? Maybe not crazy, but interesting.  My uncle 2x removed was a spy for the Secret Service for the Union during the Civil War.  He apparently was very good and had several bounties attached to him by the Confederates.  At one point he reported directly to Benjamin Harrison who later became the 23rd President.  During their time of service they became friends and remained so until the death of President Harrison.

List 11 random facts about yourself.

1. I once won a donut eating contest
2. When I was 24 years old I rebuilt the engine to my Volkswagon bug.
3. The day before I gave birth to my daughter I had a dream that I had the baby.  The next day when I actually had the baby I realized that she looked exactly like the baby in the dream.  Is that spooky or really cool?
4. As a teenager, my girlfriend and I decided to prank the drive-up teller at the bank by having us both sit in the driver’s seat of her car while performing our banking transaction.
5. The strangest food I ever ate was pickle jellyfish.
6. I write/blog under a pen-name
7. I have let a baby sqid scoot across my hand.  It’s was a strange sensation to feel the suction cups as it moved.  And when we let it go, it did squirt blue ink.
8. I helped start a private school in Silicon Valley and was a teacher for 17 years.
9. My favorite place to visit in Washington DC is The Library of Congress.
10. I like to travel light when I go on trips and once went on a three week trip with only a medium size duffle bag.
11. When I was in middle school the boy behind me told me there was a spider in my hair which resulted in me standing up in the middle of a quiet class, shaking my head upside-down and yelling, “Get it out, Get it out!”

Create 11 questions for your nominees.

1. If you could see any historic landmark or artifact, what would it be?
2. Do you speak more than one language?
3. What is the strangest food you ever ate?
4. If you were standing at the front door of the place you live in, looking outside, what direction would you be facing? (North, South, East or West)
5. Have you ever played in a band or musical group?
6. What is the longest distance you have ever gone to satisfy a craving for a treat?
7. What creature from the animal kingdom gives you the creepy crawlies?
8. As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?  Did you accomplish that?
9. Where were you working when you got your first paycheck?
10. Is there something that you enjoy doing that would surprise the people who know you best?

Present the Liebster Blog Award to 11 other blogs of 200 followers or less who you feel deserve to be noticed and leave a comment on their blog letting them know they have been chosen. (It was difficult to come up with 11 blogs to check out that had less than 200 followers because so many of the blogs I follow have become quite popular.  And, some others just recently received this award…go figure!)  So here are my nominees:

1. Pic of Then  If you enjoy vintage photography then you are bound to want to look at this site. Matt shares a picture from his personal collection each day.  I discovered him when doing a Google search for my great-great-grandfather who was a photographer in the 1800s.  Matt’s collection included several pictures that were taken by him and I have been following him since.  Though Matt doesn’t know it, his blog inspired me to start my own blog so he gets an extra high five from me.
2. Naptime Writing   I jumped into this blog after reading some of her comments on other blogs I follow.  It was one of those, I really like this person, moments.  She’s got a witty  blog about parenting, writing, daily life, and raising children (yes, that was intentional) mixed with a dose of reality check.  And if I don’t hurry, she’ll be over the 200 followers mark before I get done with this post.
3. Ancora Imparo   There is something special about this young blogger who shares her personal philosophy, her love of travel, photography and yoga.  She is just like a bright ray of sunshine on a cloudy day.
4. Mango Mornings   Liana decided to pursue an opportunity in the Philippines, leaving behind her comfort zone of Southern California.  Her blog takes you through her adventures of living in a foreign country and learning how to do things differently and the challenges and experiences she has along the way.
5. Silkannthreades   See the beautiful landscape of New Zealand, learn about the after effects of the Christchurch  earthquake or if you like follow along as a Monarch butterfly completes a full metamorphosis (they are at the cocoon stage, now).  This is a well written blog about enjoying the simple things in life with beautiful photographs adorning each post.
6. Synchronistic Reader  Lauren reads books, she also reviews them and has been writing her memoirs (soon to be published).  In her blog she shares her experience with books, writing and publishing.  She wrote an exceptional article on the fear of exposure when writing memoirs.
7. Notestoponder   Just as the title says this blogger likes to ponder over everything and anything.  Her interests are wide and intelligent.  I always enjoy taking a few minutes to expand my horizon’s with one of her thought provoking posts.
8. A Happy Mess   Julie is a mother of four adopted children of varying ethnicity, married to her high school sweetheart.  In her own words, her blog is about the good and the bad, the funny and the serious, the successes and the failures. She’s a great writer and offers unique insight to parenting.
9. 1 House 100 years   In the year 2020 this house will be 100 years old.  Follow along as it is restored inside and out in preparation for its 100 birthday.

SHHHH…Top Secret…Burn after reading!
Because there are some blogs that I really love but they have over 200 followers  I am sneaking in a special mention to the following bloggers.  Shhhhsh!  Don’t tell…but… Check them out!

heylookawriterfellow
Vanessa-Jane Chapman
Gina left the mall
The Sketchbook
The Sugarlump
Your Daily Dose

The final step is to cut/paste the award on to your blog…which I will do as so as I figure out how.

Liebster Update ~ Meet Sue behind Rosa

Letters to Rosa is a great and touching read-a-long.  Today, we get up-close and personal with author of Rosa, Sue Bahr ~

A Liebster for Rosa…

Posted by Susan Bahr on February 21, 2013 in Awards and such

Well, it’s been all business for this over-loaded brain this week.  Emails have been whizzing back and forth between Lou and I, confirming dates, looking for connections, checking on names and now I have in my hands a full genealogy for my sweet little Rosa.

This is me, blowing out a breath.

I thought I’d finally get some sleep last night. Thought that when my head hit that pillow, I’d finally be able to relax and let go of this excited, tingling sensation that creeps up my spine when I imagine that treasure trove of stories, just waiting to be mined…

- and then a dear, wonderful blogger, “Mom” over at http://youwhoineverknew.wordpress.com/ goes and nominates letters to rosa and down the mountain road for a Liebster award!

Wha-what? Come again?

Really, all I needed was just one night without stimulation or excitement or thrilling news…

Okay, I’ll admit it, I am so touched by this gesture and so glad to accept it. Mostly, I’m happy to send you to her wonderful site.

Now, in order to accept the Liebster Award, one must do the following things:

1.  thank (and link to) the presenter of my 2013 Liebster Award. “Mom” over at http://youwhoineverknew.wordpress.com/ – you are an inspiration to all of us trying to find a way to write family history and make it come alive. I love your stories and celebrated with you when your sis hit that jackpot (for us, the keepers of the family stories, boxes of photos and memorabilia is worth more than gold. Well, okay, maybe I exaggerate just a tiny bit…) Please swing by and give her a hug. She really is a delight.

Thank you Kassie!!!!!!!!

2.  post 11 fascinating facts about myself 

Sue begins her day with a hot bowl of oatmeal. She then loads wordpress, ignores her husband, who sits nearby watching the morning news and proceeds to drool over all the new posts others have written. Then, being a loyal fan, she types in comments, hits the  “like” button and moves on. Next she sips some of her beloved Irish breakfast tea, and checks out facebook. Okay, maybe she starts the day with a quick peek at her smartie phone, THEN she loads wordpress. Either way, she still ignores her husband who’s watching the tv. The husband agrees that Susan is way too consumed with social media as he flips through the stations looking for the weather channel. Daughter number two awakens and stumbles out only to be accosted by my excitement over some cute photo of a baby elephant or such. She indulges her old mom because 1) her mom is old and 2) she’s a good kid. About four hours later, Sue officially starts her day…

3.  answer the 11 questions that my nominator made up for me. I got these off your site, Kassie – I hope these are what you want me to answer…

Here’s Mom’s List of Q’s for all you New Nominees:

1.  If I weren’t blogging about this stuff I would be… working on my novels, eating way too much chocolate and remembering my daughter’s names. And didn’t I have a husband? Oh wait, he just left the room in disgust…

2.  Who are you named after? Absolutely no one. My dad picked out “Susan” and as far as I can tell from the massive genealogy I just received, there is not one Susan in all of those 88 pages…

3. I would like my epitaph to read as follows: She came, she saw, she kicked some but.

4.  Favorite quote: “Remember, where ever you go, there you are,” From the best movie EVER, Buckaroo Bonzai.

5.  Something I will never understand is… How anyone could sue another person.  I’d never in my life felt so attacked, so violated by another human until last year. No details, just know justice was served. I still haven’t forgiven though. That’s going to take some time.

6.  If  I could run around all day everyday, dressed any way that I pleased I would wear: cozy jammies and my beloved robe (which I’m wearing right now!)

7.  What class do you wish you had paid more attention to in school? Logic. Still can’t understand anything to do with “linear thinking.”  I mean, as an artist, I like to weave my way around to the final project – oh, hey, maybe that’s why my writing rambles at times, because one thought takes me  in a different direction until I’m stumbling around, trying to remember what the original question was… wait a minute, where was I? That’s right. Logic.

8.  Do you write full-time? Nope, but I write every chance I get – and on days off, like today, my kids and hubby won’t see me again until supper time (I’ll know it’s getting close when they start crabbing about being hungry. Sheesh… you’d think they’d learn to cook by now)

9.  What’s your dream job - One where I can sit behind my desk, working on stories that interest me… can you make money as a writer? You can’t? Hum, I guess that’s why I’m always so broke.

10. Where is your dream Writer’s Corner? My bedroom with the fireplace lit. Too comfy cozy for words!

11.  What’s the craziest thing you have ever learned about your family? I just learned last night that my grandfather was married before he married Mary (like that alliteration?). Henry married Blanche Adams in 1909 and she died in 1910. He then married Mary (giggle, giggle – gets better when you know his name was Henry Ferry so she became Mary Ferry – chuckle, chuckle). I’m lost again. Where was I? Oh yeah- so if Blanche hadn’t died, I wouldn’t have been born. So, there you go.

Onto the next step:

4.  make up 11 questions to be answered by the 11 blogs who I choose to award the Liebster too.

so, here they are:

1) Define your perfect day

2) tell me about someone you love

3) tell me about someone you hate

4) tell me why you blog

5) What is your favorite joke (who doesn’t need some new ones?)

6) Do you like lists? (’cause I sure don’t)

7) Where would you travel if funds and time were unlimited

8) Who do you wish you could meet today (living, dead, superhero, villan, historical character, family member, a fellow blogger – pick one, any one will do)

9) Will you write a poem for Sue?

10) Please?

11) yes, I’ve run out of questions (insert your own here)

Now, onto the part that really should be first – this is what I love the most:

5.  nominate 11 bloggers who I personally enjoy, AND who’s subscriber count does not exceed 200.  Okay – if I nominate you and you have like a bazillion followers, please be honest and forthright and accept this nomination anyways. Who doesn’t need more love?

Please see the link for each site on my side bar. That is, I believe, the safest way to get you to them. A technology geek I am not…

Fictional Machines – what a cool site! Dedicated to writing fiction and I just love JE’s format. Beautiful and all so well written!

Queen of Query – she’s new to blogging and already a pro! I love her posts and learn something new every time I visit. Please check this site out!

The Kovies – Liz is a grandma with sass and style and humor. I love her stories about her children and grandkids. Just a snip from her life sends me to the floor in laughter.

Ayeayeandi- another new blogger who shamelessly loves historical romance. What’s not to love with those covers, anyways? I love supporting the newbies. I was one once, too.

Connie Campbell Berry – a writer crafting both cool posts and creating a novel set in Vermont. So, so very cool and I can’t wait to read her story!

Big Cup O’Blog – Oh, Kathy, you are such a gifted artist and writer and I’m so glad you’re back!

According to Dave – keep posting, keep writing. Go, Dave, Go! Care to join me in the cheer? Head over and enjoy!

Nutshells & Mosquito Wings – how can I say this delicately? I WANT MORE! I love the way she shares her stories, her heart and soul. Another very gifted writer.

Dressed to Quill – and what a cool name! Kristi, you rock. Please head over and tell her Sue says hello.

Notsofancynancy - She shares detailed stories of her father’s time in WWII and has transcribed the letters he sent home. Wonderful and definitely needs to see publication….

Lori Lipsky/poetry patio - I love your poetry! I literally have to keep myself from hitting the reblog button every time I read. So incredible how you capture a thought in so few words. Here’s to you!

AND… to all the rest of you on my sidebar, including the Thing About Joan and Just as I am and Pauline Knits… oh my gosh, and Free Penny Press and Living and Lovin and Ashi Aikra… I don’t want to leave anyone out so if I did – please, go and check them out – they’re all there for a reason. You are all a cherished part of my blogging experience!

Now, onto the final step:

6.  link to the 11 bloggers I’ve chosen, and then be sure to tell them why my website is pinging at them

So… away I go.

Thanks for visiting and congrats to all of you much deserving bloggers. You rock my simple world.

Sue