Showing posts with label Off topic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Off topic. Show all posts

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Meandering and Musing: Where do friends go?


I've been completely immersed in research and thinking "great family history thoughts" - the meaning of life, the definition of family, what it is to be a woman, a person. This is what happens when my dear husband leaves town for more than 4 days. I disappear into the recesses (notice it's not a productive spot I vanish to, but a playground) of my mind. There's probably a medication that would help, but until I'm dragged off to the psych ward let's see if I can pull a theme out of the mess.

Two bloggers helped trigger my reflections - Jasia's prompt for this month's 116th Carnival of Genealogy spotlights Women's History Month. Not surprising that a gifted photographer chose a photograph for a prompt. I've been paying attention as I go through my boxes and piles and one picture has captured my attention - my grandmother and her dear friend. 

Kathy Reed wrote three posts at Jones Family Matters about identity and how little is revealed in our "just the facts" gathering of vital statistics. They are beautifully done and illustrate how many layers there are to our lives and by extension, to those of our ancestors.

Toss in some new DNA matches, online discussions of how we use various software programs and I come up with ....

Friends. My research is focused on finding genetic and adoptive relationships. But as I think about my ancestors' layered lives, and of how little I know beyond the vital statistics, I wonder about those people who figured in their lives but did not appear in the wills or deeds, except perhaps as witnesses. I wonder about the friendships that changed the direction of a life - encouraged a move, introduced someone to their spouse, stepped in during a crisis. 

One family appears in more than six decades of my family's pictures - photos taken in Tennessee, Connecticut, France, Missouri and Michigan. We are not related by blood (at least not that I can find), but by a family friendship that spans generations. If anyone ever wondered why we ended up living where we do, we bought our home (as well as an earlier one) based on advice from my "sorta" sister.  My parents were introduced by friends. They shared no common church, neighborhood, or interest and would likely never have met had Margaret & Ted not intervened. (Even then it wasn't that easy to get them in the same place at the same time!) I grew up with friends who brought a friend into their home for the last months of her life. She was surrounded by those dear to her, but not related to her. 

I consider how vital friendships have been to me. Two pictures stand out in my memory. The first, from my wedding having just laid eyes on my dearest friend who I was not expecting to see. The second, from my son's wedding having just laid eyes on the young woman who sheltered my children (in the borrowed home of my dearest friend) the summer my mother died. My mouth and arms are wide open, my eyes filling with tears, in both pictures. Pure joy.

My friend was as instrumental in shaping my views and beliefs, my children's upbringing, as any member of my family. If you don't know about her, you are missing an essential part of who I am. The young woman is as important to my children (and thus, to me) as their extended family. It was a joy to introduce her to them when my son married. 

So should friends figure in family history? I don't know. Certainly they are key parts of our individual lives. But in the aggregate? There's so much we will never know about our ancestors. But as I scan photographs, letters and sift through the boxes of "things" I've inherited I wonder if the clues there lead to relatives (here's where the software comes in) that I will enter into my database or to friends. 

And that's my chief complaint about using genealogy software. Most programs do not allow one to link people in non-familial relationships. I've no easy way to record business partners, neighbors, godparents or dear friends other than in the written notes. I did discover my software search capabilities include searching the notes. Perhaps I'll start adding these figures into the database and adding a "Linked to" note that could be found via search. 

Meanwhile a few hints to my descendants. That bullwhip my son will leave to some lucky offspring? Given to him by my other dearest friend's husband the summer they took him off my hands. Don't loose sleep trying to figure out his cowboy connections. The candlesticks that stood by my fireplace, the handsewn aprons I wore while cooking, the gold bracelet I handed down? The lovely blonds who keep appearing in decades of photos? All from my sorta family. They're fabulous and well worth researching. But they aren't related (unless of course you've FINALLY managed to marry one another). 

Photo source: Some rights reserved by TMAB2003

Saturday, September 24, 2011

Soapbox Saturday


Once in a while (like if there's a moon or sun or cloud in the sky) I pretend I'm standing on Hyde Park Corner railing against whatever power has sparked my wrath.

An aside - my husband's friends had a game they played when we were in college. It was a contest to see who could get me up to a full head of steam the fastest. It never took long. Phil was the champion.

The sun's peeking through the clouds today and there are issues taking up enough mental energy that I cannot focus on my goals. Lucky you!

First the easy one. This is Banned Books Week. YouTube is featuring short readings on the Banned Books Week Virtual Read-Out channel. Included are excepts from children's classics and many books I read growing up. Books that have lingered in my memory far longer than others. Books that forced me to examine my own life and the world around me. Clearly dangerous.

I have to share my shock (channeling Claude Rains here) at the announcement that Russia's President Medvedev wants Putin to run in 2012. Not much can make me look favorably on our own political morass, but Dmitry pulled it off.

As to our own body politic - not going there. Ditto the economy.

Which leaves me with ... Facebook. I'll try and keep this short, but you might want to get comfortable.

I was slow to see the value of social media. It took my far-flung family sharing photos of weddings and babies to get me onto Facebook. I pleaded for photos to be emailed to no avail. So I caved. Then I began to add genealogy friends, getting  to "know" the people behind the blogs I so enjoy. I drank the Kool Aid and loved it.

For those of us passionately interested in areas that bore our real world friends to tears, who don't always fit in the slots we occupy, social media is a chance to connect with those who share our passions. I've gotten great advice, encouragement, even prayers when needed from people I may never see face to face. It's gotten to feel like Cheers - a spot where everybody knows your name.

Yes, I know it's a public forum and that anything I post could be shared or broadcast the world over. I am reasonably circumspect - no photos of drinking games or silly hats or wet t-shirts (that would be a picture!). I don't check in or use Foursquare. Don't broadcast my occasional Scrabble triumphs or "like" dozens of pages. But I do chat. And tease. And vent. Things I might do sitting on a bus, or at a bar knowing the people around me could overhear. Things I'm MUCH less likely to do with a camera pointed straight at me recording and broadcasting my every movement to the world. There is a difference between knowing my chatter could be public if another person was determined to seek it out (a talent my geneafriends have, I might add) and having it presented to anyone walking by - now or ten years hence. Instead of having a bit part in Cheers, I'm suddenly in The Truman Show.

My readers and genealogy buddies know how tentatively I've gone public. It was over a year before I wrote using my own name. There is no post-1960 photograph of me here. I don't even do frequent whatever clubs because I don't like the information being tracked.

Yet I persuaded myself that Facebook was a safe place where I could keep up with family and get to know other genealogists. I no longer believe that to be true. I have removed the link to my Facebook profile from this blog. I plan to limit my contacts to family and intimate friends (though I hope I can persuade them to leave).

So where does that leave me? I drank the Kool Aid, remember. I like the virtual social relationships I've formed. It leaves me with Google+.

My initial reaction was that was too public, that I wanted more "privacy". Delusional. Repeat after me. There is no privacy online. If I want virtual relationships I need to realize they are public. That said, every Google+ post includes a choice of who to share it with AND the ability to prevent it being further shared. Do I want my comments about the St. Louis Cardinals or a local art show to go to everyone? Do all the genealogists I "know" need to see my chatter with the few I have a more personal relationship with? Do I share political links with the world or only those I'm hoping to convert? It's not a bad thing to pause and think about who I'm talking to.

It's taken time to set up my Google+ circles. I'm still thinking about how I receive and share posts. But I'm the one making the decisions, deciding on the limits of the relationships. If there were a Facebook "like" button I'd push it.

~~~~~~~~

These posts are worth looking at if you want to read more about the changes at Facebook:


If you're curious about Google+ check out these links or pull up a bar stool and find me there. The first drink's on me.


Photo credit: By Shuttleworth Foundation via Flickr.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

I remember

Wtc arial march2001

I never liked the World Trade Center towers. They were built while I was growing up outside New York City. They were out of scale with the rest of the Manhattan skyline, dwarfing the skyline of my childhood where the Empire State building reigned.

But these last ten years, all I can see when I look at that skyline is the spot where they stood. And I wish so very much that they and all those who perished that day were still standing.




Photograph by Jeffmock (Own work) [GFDL, CC-BY-SA-3.0 or CC-BY-SA-2.5-2.0-1.0], via Wikimedia Commons.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

2011.5

The earth moved. Literally. This is how my day started - a 4.2 magnitude earthquake centered 50 miles south of us in Sullivan, Missouri. At 3:10 a.m.

This is a very small earthquake - at least from a distance. Nothing fell, nothing cracked (with the possible exception of me). But it was an unnerving beginning to the day. A day that is heading for 98 degrees. Again. A day where many Missourians are only beginning to come to grips with post-tornadic realities. A day when others are watching the rivers rise. Hell, even the bugs are jumping up and smacking us in the face.

AttributionNoncommercialNo Derivative Works Some rights reserved by Eric Henderson Photography

So what greets me when I open up Reader this morning? Kerry Scott telling me my house is on fire. No kidding. And she wants to know what I'd grab as I'm running out.

I actually started to think about it. The pictures are backed up online so I don't need to go for those. All the techy stuff can be replaced. My purse would be a good idea. But a thing - something of personal value or significance? This place is full of things. My grandmother's crocheted pieces. My great-grandfather's powder horn. A wooden goose I loved as girl and now have in my family room. Family silver and china and crystal and rugs. The quilts - I really should grab one of those. The books. My husband might grab one of the etchings from his family. The paintings. I'd probably go up in smoke trying to figure it out.

Months after Hurricane Katrina hit I spent several weeks working with the Red Cross in Mississippi. These things take a LONG time to clean up before anyone can begin to think of rebuilding. On Halloween we drove around cheerfully serving meals and passing out candy to families living in tents, trailers, campers amid the rubble. Cheerful was key. I was cheerful. I wore a St. Louis Cardinals baseball cap and bantered with the clients. They bantered back. I even teased one woman who was wearing a Christmas tree pin that she had the wrong holiday. She looked puzzled then glanced down at the pin. "It's the only thing I could find afterwards," she said. I can still see her face.

That's the point. When everything goes up in smoke I'll grab something. Probably whatever thing is nearest the door or window I'm jumping out of. It really doesn't matter what it is because it will be all that's left.

Meanwhile, I'm calling an end to this year. It has, on every possible level, been one for the books. I had high hopes for the rapture a few weeks ago, but that was a bust. No way I'm waiting until October for the next go-round. Time for a new one. I don't think I can actually pull off decreeing that it is now 2012, so from here on out this year is officially 2011.5.

UPDATE - My bumpy wake-up was downgraded to a 3.9 earthquake.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

A dilly of a spring - Wordless Wednesday


The best of this year's daffodils