Not enough to prevent a marriage
I live on an island. Surrounded by water, and cousins. When we play “six degrees of separation”, things are real! Nothing creepy-close; we’re not like European royalty, but it does remind you to ask the quintessential Island question. “So, who’s your father?”
I’ve had one research question open for half of my life. “Mom, how are we related to them?” And she’d reply, with a shrug or a sigh. “We just are.”
Not good enough in a time when DNA sequencing is just a spit tube and a credit card charge away. This afternoon, I asked the question to my favourite software package, and it came back with a certain assurance: 3rd cousins. Not enough to prevent a marriage and not enough to push you that way. I’m actually relieved to have the answer, because now I can continue “rooting”, knowing that any findings will only strengthen the ties that bind our two families. After all, wasn’t that the whole premise to Romeo and Juliet?
Windy afternoon. With the ferries cancelled and the bridge shuttered, we were, again, a rock in the stream. Locally a few power flickers. Enough to see me reformatting my net radio server for another try. Elsewhere, schools closed, stores closed, proof that we’re one good blow away from the eradication of civilisation. And then, it was done. The sun came out, and we resolved to find the missing shields from beneath the squirrel feeder. Tomorrow.
Meanwhile, the post office is threatening to go on strike. Not great news, in our Amazon world. Of course, there are other courier services, but I like opening the community lock box and finding small packages.
