On one girls-only weekend at the beach, one of my friends spent her time looking up her family ancestry. Occasionally, she would let us know about a branch of her family tree that she had discovered, and from listening to her talk, it sounded like her family was full of rogues and adventurers. (I am sure that there were pleasant, everyday people as well, but she didn't share those tales with us.)...more
A door to anywhere, that’s what I’d choose. I love yesterday’s Daily Prompt from WordPress. I don’t always relate to them, but then I checked today and found this prompt. It reminds me of the television show, The Librarians. Their doors open to all sorts of adventures. And I’d love that. ...more
My third great grandfather Warren McKinney (1859-1938) participated in the Slave Narratives: A Folk History of Slavery in the United States From Interviews with Former Slaves. The interviews took place between 1936-1938 and were conducted by the Federal Writers' Project of the Works Progress Administration for the State of Arkansas. These records are in the Library of Congress. My great, great, great father's interview was took place in Hazen, Arkansas. He was 85 at the time. He died in 1938 so finding this has been an invaluable treasure for my family. I was shocked that we found this....more
As Halloween approaches, it brings a tide of childhood memories: handmade princess costumes, the joy of free candy, the rule among my peers to hold our breath when passing a cemetery so we wouldn't ‘catch’ death. As children, it seemed that simple not to die, and secular America hasn't outgrown that belief. But by ignoring and hiding death, we remain helpless against our fundamental fear of it. Through my practice of mindfulness meditation I have discovered just how fearful and resistant I am to the concept of death as I develop a mindful approach to facing it.
Who doesn't love to eat?
I love to cook, collect cookbooks and old recipes, and delve into genealogy and the garden dirt as well. I also love to travel and spend time with my family, friends and my dogs. Sounds like a jillion other blogs? Maybe so, but I have been pondering what to do with the wonderful old family recipe boxes I have received, and I decided to share them by scanning in the handwritten cards and blog with them!...more
This was going to be a story of feminism and self-ownership:
The search for my nose began as a child. Mine was round and very unlike my mother's regal Roman nose. My birth father was long gone, but old photographs bore evidence of a nose bent and flattened from repeated breaking, a hazard of soccer and Spanish blood run hot. My nose did not have the narrow British look of my grandmother's nor the prominent Italian bulge of my grandfather's. It had no match, no ancestry, no belonging.