Here’s the thing. I do a lot of research into family histories, my own and others. I’m very much aware of how many records one must go through to find something of actual value. A bit like panning for gold, where you get to toss a large quantity of pebbles aside before finding a nugget worth keeping.
Read the rest of this entry »posted in genealogy | Comments Off on Avoiding the lies from boilerplate | 277 words
History is meant to be shared. Especially family history. What could be sadder than a rooomful of documents, hidden from the eoeys of everyone else? Including, I imagine, those concerned by reason of consanguinity.
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With a lifelong interest in genealogy, I believe in record keeping. I mean, the whole of our society is based on keeping track of those around us. Births, deaths. The inbetweens. All of our true institutions depend on the sanctity of our system. That’s why the ongoing news leaves me aghast.
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I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating. I miss mailboxes with actual names on the sidebar. Used to be, even if you already knew where everyone lived (force of habit and family ties) the box served as a recall. Kept you from showing up on the wrong doorstep. Now, finding where someone lives in the absence of an up-to-date contact number can turn into an evening of adventure. At least with StreetView you can make an educated guess, but there has to be a better way.
Read the rest of this entry »posted in environment, genealogy | Comments Off on Who lives there? | 264 words
Recently, I decided that it was time to buy the right tool for the job. In this case, removing the fancy lock nut covers on the RV. Someone had posted a hint on social media, and I had checked with the only relative that actually runs a tool store. It wasn’t just a rumour, the tool has a name and a part number.
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Some of the skills I picked up while dabbling in the IT world came into use this afternoon. My neighbour has (had) a lovely laptop that lost out in one of those drop tests. Gravity won. Managed to remove the power connector from the motherboard, which is a bit of a death sentence in this world of “repair nothing”.
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I’ve been think about a house from my past. I lived there, for about eighteen months. Some houses are more important than others, and this one has been shelter from the storms to a large part of my family. You see, my grandfather had it built to celebrate getting married, back in 1918. Just over a century ago; a big deal in the Canadian context. We don’t do millenial castles.
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Our dog-neighbour with the spooky eyes has joined our pack for the night. He came early, silently, and made himself at home without incident. Later, a family member dropped off the huge electrical hand control (he wears the equivalent of those ankle bracelets favoured by convicts, except around his neck); I don’t need to use it, because we don’t let him run away to see the world. I feel good that we are seen as a refuge for a tame creature. Next on the list, the wilds from outside.
Read the rest of this entry »posted in food, genealogy | Comments Off on Harder butter is not always better butter | 262 words
My family history continues to grow. Last evening, I received a photo of myself, in the company of my parents AND two of my grandparents. Until recently, family photos tended to feature rare, static moments captured on a Kodak. Generally grainy, from a 6×6 frame. In this case, almost sepia (it’s a colour long admired by photo studios and not much else). Usually with a birthday cake in the foreground.
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Time to focus on the task at hand; in just a few minutes, we will serve as the place to stay for two lads and their dog. Nothing permanent. A few hours off-time for the parents. We’ve brought in some bags of non-nutritional food, and my TV will offer channels from (I actually don’t know). We’ll discover, together.
Read the rest of this entry »posted in genealogy | Comments Off on Finding lost family | 278 words
