Franklin Conner, my maternal grandfather’s brother, was an outgoing, generous man. However, one night he was supposed to meet some of his family for dinner but he never showed up. While they were waiting for him he killed himself.
I learned the story of my great uncle Franklin doing genealogy research. Recently I traded emails with my grandfather’s (and Franklin’s) half sister…
Cheryl was headed out the door early this morning to take Adam to a soccer game, and I felt compelled to give her a warning. A Floridian for most of my life, I’m almost certain these words never crossed my lips before:
“Be careful, there may be ice on the roads.”
It came out so naturally, you’d think it was a memory encoded in my DNA – from generations of ancestors…
Here’s another post you can blame Cheryl for, at least in part. Every year we have a Secret Santa gift exchange at work, much like may of you (probably). For the last ten years (give or take a few) I’ve included some kind of letter with my gift. It’s been my schtick, my thing.
Cheryl thought I should post this year’s letter, in part because we didn’t send out…
“There is only one way to happiness and that is to cease worrying about things which are beyond the power of our detergent.”
– Epictetus, Greek philosopher (AD 55 – 135) – disputed, alternate translation from the original text
Cheryl really wanted me to write this post.
“John, you’ve got to blog about this.”
See, I told you.
“Why don’t…
She had no idea she was making a mistake. I’m unpredictable that way. You never know what will set me off.
We were watching something on the TV and Cheryl asked, “where have I seen her before?” Not missing a beat, I whipped up a brilliant song about IMDB… set to the music of YMCA. I even threw in the arm spasms… I mean letters. It’s my one true gift, the thing…
It didn’t take long. Adam just had his first soccer practice, and already the parents are planning the coach’s ouster. From what I hear it might be deserved, but I’ve never coached little kids so what do I know?
First, there was the last minute way it was organized… as in: nine o’clock the night before we got a call from the coach – complete with a shopping list…
Cheryl was complaining this morning. Before you rush to judgement – of me – for telling on Cheryl, let me say up front that I complain just as much as she does. Only, my complaining tends to be more whiney, grating, and down right irritating.
But let us not talk about me, and instead focus on Cheryl – my intended target. (We’ll get to me shortly.)
Cheryl was complaining…
Last night, suffering from a long day and a pinch of insomnia, and frustrated with modern, medical science’s ability to put me to sleep, I posted an entry that wasn’t exactly an advertisement for genealogy. As it happens, I enjoy it immensely – whatever the reasons may be.
If I may, I’d like to bore you with one family member in particular I’ve been studying who…
I’ve been doing a lot work on my family tree this week. I found a few new possible branches, but mostly I’ve been cleaning up, and there’s a lot of it left to do.
I do most of my research online, and one set of data lives there. Another set, my master copy, lives on my hard drive, mirrored on a second, AND backed up to a remote server.
Yes, I’m that paranoid.
You may see…