There’s a handy-dandy feature on Ancestry‘s app that keeps the user up to date on birthdays and anniversaries. As long as the person is in your family tree, their name will pop up a day or two before that special day to remember. Noticing that Grandma Vayo‘s maternal grandparents’ anniversary was today, it felt like a good time to write about them. Only their anniversary was yesterday. That’s according to one document: Onze Juillet. Another marriage document: Douze Juillet. Onze…
The term “cousin bait” is intriguing. What it means, in my case anyway, is that a magnificent bonus while researching your family tree is connecting with a living relative you’ve never met. One example is second-cousin Richard, from Grandpa Cassidy’s side of the family. Another is third-cousin Irishman Adrian, who recognized a painting of his family’s homestead during an online search, which led him to this blog. And now … way over on the other side of our family tree…
We’ll try not to strain our voices shouting about June’s reads. Book 1: A Daughter’s a Daughter by Mary Westmacott This first book was a quick read. And disturbing, as it was about a mother and daughter who shared an ugly, life-changing jealousy. So why shout? … because the novel was written by Agatha Christie under the nom de plume* of Mary Westmacott. Even though I knew ahead of time there wouldn’t be a murder to solve, it was all…
Why would I dream about taking just one bite of a sandwich? And a Reuben sandwich at that! Farmer Gary is not a fan of rhetorical questions. He just shrugged in response. I so rarely remember my dreams that it was hard to let this one go. Until yesterday, neither Gary nor I had ever tasted a Reuben sandwich. He’s a fan of sauerkraut, but served with pork. Ham hocks and sauerkraut were a treat growing up, he tells me….
You’d think they could come up with another word: It’s bad enough that AARP emails us daily with new ways to pull tendons and cramp muscles, now the app for our generator is getting into the act, bragging about its activity. But I’m getting ahead of myself … A month or so ago, Farmer Gary made the following proclamation: “This house has a poltergeist.” It had been a lively couple of days: Luckily, the company that installed our whole-house generator…
Summer arrived this week with all the sticky humidity it is famous for here in the Ohio River Valley. That’s what you call “air you can wear.” Paul Emmick, a former meteorologist with The Weather Channel, charmed the nation with that phrase. And that voice. I met Paul in 1982 or so, when he was a high-school intern at the radio and cable TV station where I worked in the news department. He was training to fill in on the…
When Dad retired in the late 1980s, he was determined to collect and read more books than his career had allowed. After sorting through ads for book clubs and societies, he decided Folio Society was a good match for him (and Mom). And so, six years ago, we inherited about 450 volumes, mostly classics. Since then, we’ve doubled the size of the collection. I try to read at least two Folios each month, but decided since May is the month…
Got a bit of a head-scratcher here … Let’s start with my brother Dave. He emailed us recently with a story from a letter our Grandma Cassidy sent him back in 1976. The details are fascinating, but I’m not sure the dates match up all that well. That said, maybe a relative will see this and help us untangle the specifics. Because, as I may have mentioned, it’s a great story. Dave relays some information from Grandma’s letter: Grandma’s older…
My godmother’s name fascinated me as a little kid. Her father’s name was George. Her mother’s name was Anna. And so they named their younger daughter Georgeanna. That formula sure wouldn’t have worked out as nicely for me. Haroldjoan doesn’t quite slide off the tongue as easily as Georgeanna. Born in Hartford, Connecticut, in 1932, Georgeanna Helen Lane grew up attending Catholic schools. It was at St. Joseph College that she met Mom. Sharing an interest in poetry, writing, books,…
He was assigned the rank of Musician in the U.S. Army when he enlisted from York County, Maine, during the Spanish American War. I asked Farmer Gary, who reads a lot of military-history books, if that meant he was a drummer. “Bugler, probably,” was his reply. That makes sense. From the start, I’ll confess to not (yet) finding a place for Augustus in our family tree. The more I dig around, though, the more it becomes clear his story is…