Merry Christmas, 2010

GENEALOGIST'S CHRISTMAS EVE

'Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even my spouse.
The dining room table with clutter was spread
with pedigree charts and with letters which said...

"Too bad about the data for which you wrote
Sank in a storm on an ill-fated boat."
Stacks of old copies of wills and the such
were proof that my work had become much too much.

Our children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugarplums danced in their heads.
And I at my table was ready to drop
From work on my album with photos to crop.

Christmas was here, and of such was my lot
That presents and goodies and toys I'd forgot.
Had I not been so busy with grandparents' wills,
I'd not have forgotten to shop for such thrills.

While others had bought gifts that would bring Christmas cheer,
I'd spent my time researching those birthdates and years.
While I was thus musing about my sad plight,
A strange noise on the lawn gave me such a great fright.

Away to the window I flew in a flash,
Tore open the drapes and I yanked up the sash.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But an overstuffed sleight and eight small reindeer.

Up to the housetop the reindeer they flew,
With a sleigh full of toys, and 'ole Santa Claus, too.
And then in a twinkle, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of thirty-two hoofs.

The TV antenna was no match for their horns,
And look at our roof with hoof-prints adorned.
As I drew in my head, and bumped it on the sash,
Down the cold chimney fell Santa--KER-RASH!

"Dear" Santa had some for the roof in a wreck,
And tracked soot on the carpet (I could wring his short neck!).
Spotting my face, good old Santa could see
I had no Christmas spirit you'd have to agree.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work
And filled all the stockings (I felt like a jerk).
Here was Santa, who'd brought us such gladness and joy;
When I'd been too busy for even one toy.

He spied my research on the table all spread
"A genealogist!" He cried! (My face was all red!)
"Tonight I've met many like you," Santa grinned,
As he pulled from his sack a large book he had penned.

I gazed with amazement-the cover it read
"Genealogy Lines for Which You have Plead."
"I know what it's like as a genealogy bug,"
He said as he gave me a great Santa hug.

While the elves make the sleighful of toys I now carry,
I do some research in the North Pole Library."
"A special treat I am thus able to bring,
To genealogy folks who can't find a thing.

Now off you go to your bed for a rest,
I'll clean up the house from this genealogy mess."
As I climbed up the stairs full of gladness and glee,
I looked back at Santa who'd brought much to me.

While settling in bed, I heard Santa's clear whistle
To his team, which then rose like the down of a thistle.
And I heard him exclaim as he flew out of sight,
"Family History is Fun! Merry Christmas! Goodnight!"

My Friend

My friend went home to be with the Lord on November 16, 2010, after a long battle with cancer. Her name was Barbara Jane Presnell Elliott Parker. She had two children and three grandchildren. I had known her for 5 years. I met her when my husband and I moved to the condo. She was my neighbor. I taught her to use her new computer. I introduced her to genealogy. She had a passion for researching and enjoyed it so much. We made many trips to other counties to do researching; we had lunch out many times; we had lots of long talks. She was a brave and courageous person in the battle for her life. She loved the Lord, her family and her life. I will miss her.

Genealogist Prayer

"A PRAYER FOR GENEALOGISTS"
<<<<<>>>>>
LORD, HELP ME DIG INTO THE PAST
AND SIFT THE SANDS OF TIME.
THAT I MIGHT FIND THE ROOTS THAT MADE
THIS FAMILY TREE OF MINE.
<<<<<>>>>>
LORD, HELP ME TRACE THE ANCIENT ROADS
ON WHICH MY FATHER'S TROD.
AND LED THEM THROUGH SO MANY LANDS
TO FIND OUR PRESENT SOD.
<<<<<>>>>>
LORD, HELP ME FIND AN ANCIENT BOOK
OR DUSTY MANUSCRIPT.
THATS SAFELY HIDDEN NOW AWAY
IN SOME FORGOTTEN CRYPT.
<<<<<>>>>>
LORD, LET IT BRIDGE THE GAP THAT HAUNTS
MY SOUL WHEN I CAN'T FIND,
THE MISSING LINK BETWEEN SOME NAME
THAT ENDS THE SAME AS MINE.

Why I Like Fall.......

Fall is my favorite time of the year, followed by Spring. I love the leaf color, the cooler days, getting out and walking. It has also pushed me back to the computer and to work on my Genealogy. People ask, "Aren't you finished yet???" I say, "You're never finished with genealogy. There is always more to look up and ask about. More cemeteries to visit. More letters to write. More message boards to visit and post queries." So with that being said, I am pulling out the notes I've scribbled on napkins, getting out the list of things I've jotted down all summer, reviewing the things I did last Spring (before my garden started producing) and this smile you see on my face is because I am going to visit my ancestors. I've missed them!

I planted a row of sunflowers in front of my vegetable garden this summer. It was my first time. I hoped the sunflowers would grow tall and strong and they did. Some of them are over 7 foot tall and have huge faces. I love looking at them. They not only brighten my garden but they brighten my summer days as well .....

Thank God that we are living in the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave. There are many in our country who live here and do not appreciate it. They are always wanting to change something. They are too liberal and narrow minded to appreciate what our forefathers went through in order that we could live in this beautiful and wonderful country today. God Bless America, Land that I Love......

The Flour Sack, by Colleen B. Hubert

WHEN ROADS WERE GRAVELED AND BARRELS WERE STAVED,
WHEN WORN-OUT CLOTHING WAS USED AS RAGS,
AND THERE WERE NO PLASTIC WRAP OR BAGS,
AND THE WELL AND THE PUMP WERE WAY OUT BACK,
A VERSITILE ITEM, WAS THE FLOUR SACK.

PILLSBURY'S BEST, MOTHER'S AND GOLD MEDAL, TOO
STAMPED THEIR NAMES PROUDLY IN PURPLE AND BLUE.
THE STRING SEWN ON TOP WAS PULLED AND KEPT;
THE FLOUR EMPTIED AND SPILLS WERE SWEPT.
THE BAG WAS FOLDED AND STORED IN A SACK
THAT DURABLE, PRACTICAL FLOUR SACK.

THE SACK COULD BE FILLED WITH FEATHERS AND DOWN,
FOR A PILLOW, OR T'WOULD MAKE A NICE SLEEPING GOWN.
IT COULD CARRY A BOOK AND BE A SCHOOL BAG,
OR BECOME A MAIL SACK SLUNG OVER A NAG.
IT MADE A VERY CONVENIENT PACK,
THAT ADAPTABLE, COTTON FLOUR SACK.

BLEACHED AND SEWN, IT WAS DUTIFULLY WORN
AS BIBS, DIAPERS, OR KERCHIEF ADORNED.
IT WAS MADE INTO SKIRTS, BLOUSES AND SLIPS.
AND MOM BRAIDED RUGS FROM ONE HUNDRED STRIPS
SHE MADE RUFFLED CURTAINS FOR THE HOUSE OR SHACK,
FROM THAT HUMBLE BUT TREASURED FLOUR SACK!

AS A STRAINER FOR MILK OR APPLE JUICE,
TO WAVE MEN IN, IT WAS A VERY GOOD USE,
AS A SLING FOR A SPRAINED WRIST OR A BREAK,
TO HELP MOTHER ROLL UP A JELLY CAKE,
AS A WINDOW SHADE OR TO STUFF A CRACK,
WE USED A STURDY, COMMON FLOUR SACK!

AS DISH TOWELS, EMBROIDERED OR NOT,
THEY COVERED UP DOUGH, HELPED PASS PANS SO HOT,
TIED UP DISHES FOR NEIGHBORS IN NEED,
AND FOR MEN OUT IN THE FIELD TO SEED.
THEY DRIED DISHES FROM PAN, NOT RACK
THAT ABSORBENT, HANDY FLOUR SACK!

WE POLISHED AND CLEANED STOVE AND TABLE,
SCOURED AND SCRUBBED FROM CELLAR TO GABLE,
WE DUSTED THE BUREAU AND OAK BED POST,
MADE COSTUMES FOR OCTOBER (A SCARY GHOST)
AND A PARACHUTE FOR A CAT NAMED JACK.
FROM THAT LOWLY, USEFUL OLD FLOUR SACK!

SO NOW MY FRIENDS, WHEN THEY ASK YOU
AS CURIOUS YOUNGSTERS OFTEN DO,
"BEFORE PLASTIC WRAP, ELMERS GLUE
AND PAPER TOWELS, WHAT DID YOU DO?"
TELL THEM LOUDLY AND WITH PRIDE DON'T LACK,
"GRANDMOTHER HAD THAT WONDERFUL FLOUR SACK!"

True Freedom

What is true freedom? True freedom is when you are free inside your mind with your spirit connected to the love, will and hope of God. America is a land where our ancestors sought freedom, especially religious freedom. They sought freedom from economic, political and social oppression -- and most significantly from religious persecution. In America we often take for granted the freedom that our ancestors fought for with their lives. We established freedom of speech, freedom of assembly, freedom of the press, and freedom of religion (and from a state-imposed religion as well). These were earned freedoms. However, the most valuable true freedom comes by the grace of God built on the foundation of our capacity to experience and share the true love of God. Our ancestors prided themselves as a free people. But modern-day Americans pride themselves on being free, as well.

Family, Ancestors and Tradition

Crochet

Crochet is a process of creating fabric from yarn using a crochet hook. It is similar to knitting and consist of pulling loops of yarn through other loops. No one knows for sure where the art came from. Beginning in the 1800s in Britain, America and France, crochet began to be used as a less costly substitute for other forms of lace. I can remember so well when my grandma would crochet what she called doilies. She would place flat ones on the back of her living room chairs. She would take other flat ones, dip them in homemade starch and put the edges around 2 or 3 glasses to make ridges and use them for table scarves. Very pretty. I also remember my great-aunt teaching my mother how to crochet. I loved watching them do it, but I never learned how. Now I wish I had.

Arrowhead Monument, Old Fort, NC

In the center of town in Old Fort, North Carolina an Arrowhead monument was built in 1930. This hand chiseled granite monument served to honor the peace finally achieved between the pioneer settlers and the Native Americans. At the unveiling, over 6,000 people attended including chiefs from both the Catawba and Cherokee tribes. These two tribes had never smoked a pipe of peace together until that day. I live in the same county as this monument, McDowell.

I have posted the emblem of my hometown, Marion, NC which has a lot of the Southern Cemeteries described in this blog below by Stephanie Lincecum.

The Southern Cemetery
by Stephanie Lincecum

I’ve been thinking about the southern cemetery quite a bit lately. By “southern,” I mean cemeteries found in the southern part of the United States. It seems the most prominent, most grand, most intricate, most angelic, and most beautiful cemeteries and gravestones that are proudly and splendidly displayed online are from locations in the northern United States. Does this mean these same beautiful images cannot be found in the South? Of course not. I could list many, many grand displays from “down here.” If we are to be honest, though, these types of cemeteries and gravestones are not the norm.

Recently, while visiting a small church cemetery in middle Georgia (in a little town I had never heard of), I was reminded of why I love the southern cemetery. It has nothing to do with grand markers placed for prominent individuals.

It’s the fact that they can be located right next to a field of cattle. It’s the peaceful silence, with only the sounds of birds, because very few cars bother to travel this out-of-the-way road. It’s the obvious love of family, all grouped together. Sometimes with a large surname marker and several more little markers surrounding it. All adorned with a first name only. It’s all the trinkets left at a grave. You know they mean something to the one buried there. It’s the homemade tombstones. The homemade crosses. It’s the mounds of dirt with flowers at the head when a tombstone cannot be afforded. It’s the idea that a family that can afford a large, marble, pedestal tombstone with an urn on top is buried right next to a family that chose a simple concrete plaque marker. It’s even the living people you might meet. They are eager to greet you, ask how you are doing, tell you who they are there to visit, and then tell you why they miss them so. Huge monuments are not what makes the southern cemetery a wondrous sight to see.

GRANDMA'S APRON
<<<<<>>>>>
When I used to visit grandma,
I was very much impressed,
by her all-purpose apron,
and the power it possessed.
for grandma, it was everyday
to choose one when she dressed.
The strings were tied and freshly washed,
and maybe even pressed.
<<<<<>>>>>
The simple apron that it was,
you would never think about;
The things she used it for,
that made it look worn out.
She used it for a basket,
when she gathered up the eggs.
and flapped it as a weapon,
when hens pecked her feet and legs.
<<<<<>>>>>
She used it to carry kindling
when she stoked the kitchen fire.
And to hold a load of laundry
or to wipe the clothes line wire.
She used it for a hot pad,
to remove a steaming pan.
and when her brow was heated,
she used it for a fan.
<<<<<>>>>>
It dried our childish tears,
when we'd scrap a knee and cry,
and made a hiding place
when the little ones were shy.
Farm products took in season,
in the summer, spring and fall.
Found it's way into the kitchen,
in Grandma's carry all.
<<<<<>>>>>
When Grandma went to Heaven,
God said she now can rest.
I'm sure the apron, she chose that day,
was her Sunday best.
<<<<<>>>>>
Author Unknown

Happy St. Patricks Day. I was told by my dad as I was growing up that we were Scotch-Irish. I was never sure what this meant but now I do. It means: In the 1710 to 1775 era, over 200,000 people emigrated from Ulster, Ireland to the 13 Colonies, from New Hampshire to Georgia. The largest numbers went to Pennsylvania. From that base some went south into Virginia, the "Carolinas" and across the South, with a large concentration in the "Appalachian" districts. My family is definitely a cultural mix but that is what makes us unique.

Spring is Around the Corner

Spring is a miraculous experience. The whole world comes alive after winter in which it seemed that everything was dead. The world comes filled with color and the scent of delicious greenery. The world that seemed so dull and cold has come alive once again. Little did we know that beneath the cold hard ground the plants and trees were preparing for rebirth. Spring gives us hope for rejuvenation in our own lives as well. Spring is a time to renew the excitement and zest for life that lives inside us. Spring shows what God can do with a drab and dirty world. Each bloom and bud are welcome sights.

Winter 2010

This has been the coldest winter in years and we have already had two big snows. This last one was 7 inches and due to the temperatures, will most likely be around for a while. The above picture is one I found online. It is the Viaduct at Grandfather Mountain. It was made January 10, 2010, so it is recent. Being snowed in has given me time to do genealogy research. It has also given me time to go through closets and cabinets, cleaning out and cleaning up. But I am longing for Spring, for the daffodils and tulips, for the plowing of the garden, for chirping of the birds and for sunshine. God blesses us with seasons but I like Spring the best.

Blizzard of 2009

This has been the coldest winter we've had in 30 years. The 19th of December we got 12 inches of snow where we live and other places in the county got up to 15 inches. It has been four weeks and all of it has not melted yet. It has been too cold. Now they are predicting another storm. I just hope it is not as bad as this last one. It certainly makes for beautiful picture taking however and watching the flakes fall is just breathtaking. So pretty. Then after the roads are driven on and scraped and the snow starts to melt some and becomes slush - it isn't pretty, just messy. But this is just one more of God's beautiful portraits he paints and gives us, just like the sunrise and sunset. Happy 2010.
Anita