sharpchick_2011: (Candle)
And I am blessed.

In the weeks following my resignation from my job, I made a discovery that really was so much a wake up call.

I really needed a break - time to winnow, contemplate, meditate.

Time to just be.

No matter what the future holds, I will always treasure this time that I am taking now. It feeds my soul.
Every day has its own rhythm.

Some days, I am deep into family history, and not just my own.

I have a dear friend who wants to know what happened to a sister and a brother, when each of them inexplicably "disappeared" from the family.

My heart hurts for him, because his childhood (and that of his surviving siblings) has left deep wounds in his soul. (If you read that blog entry, and have an idea you might have any information, please contact me.)

Other days, other bloggers' reactions to a family photo I've posted give me a reason for musing about a long dead relative.

And sometimes, the simple act of doing laundry brings back memories of my grandmother and a quilt she made for me.

Every day has its own richness.

The journey is good.

Namaste.
sharpchick_2011: (Default)
I love those.

I get to meander. The older I get, the more meandering appeals to me.

Stuff still gets done, but at a more leisurely pace.

And I get to work on genealogy.
Caught up on my genealogy blog reading.

And read one post in another blog that got me to wondering.

Again.

About Hetty Hill.
The journey is good.

Meandering moves you along, too.

Namaste.
sharpchick_2011: (Candle)
I had a grand aunt I never got to meet. I was born in November 1958 in Florida, where I was living when she died in Little Rock in December 1959.

As a young child, I heard bits and pieces of the adult conversation about Aunt Ruth, and most of it was not pretty. The vast majority of it focused on how she died, and very little was about how she lived.

That was a shame. I realize that the snippets I heard were colored by the perspectives of the speakers.

Aunt Ruth had no descendants. A few weeks ago, I decided to try and reconstruct as much of her story as I could.

Because everyone has a story.
Ruth's Story...

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

The journey is good.

And there are many stories of people along the way.

Namaste.
sharpchick_2011: (Default)
I am currently working on a series - probably four parts - of posts on the genealogy blog about my grand aunt Ruth Lucile Balding Brandon.

She is one of my "orphan" relatives, which is what I call the aunts, uncles and cousins who left no descendants.

Aunt Ruth has always intrigued me, because what I heard from my family wabout her made her sound as if she was a colorless woman - strong and terse in sensible shoes.

She committed suicide at the age of 56 and had been diagnosed several years earlier with Hodgkins lymphoma. She died on 30 Dec 1959 seated in her rocking chair in her bedroom at home.

Since I so hate it to see people defined by one moment in their lives, I decided to try and find out all I could about Aunt Ruth. Everyone has a story, and so does Aunt Ruth.

And in the process, I have, of course, discovered so much more about my family.

I'll post links when the series is complete.
sharpchick_2011: (Troll)
Work, work, work...

I said I was not going to do office work this weekend.

Thursday, I emailed a video clip of some nastiness at the Arkansas State Hospital to the feds so they would have it for their upcoming visit on Monday.

While I was also converting incident reports for emailing to them.

And burning documents to CDs to take to a hearing to which I have been subpoenaed - on ASH.

They replied to say they had gotten the email, but their server had stripped the attachment, so could I just burn them a copy of the DVD and run out and overnight it to them?

Pissed me right off, they did. So I let them know by reply email.

That I am not their secretary and errand chick. And that I can give the surveyors the DVDs when they get here on Monday, because we ALL - ASH and I - know they will be here on Monday. It's not a secret, as much as they would like to think it is.

So now, I'll be delivering said DVDs to their hotel - tonight when they get here.

Shit. And all six other words George Carlin said you can't say on TV...
Got up to relentless heat yesterday morning - was already almost 80 degrees and very humid when I began my chores.

Along about 10 a.m., sweating like a fiend, I noticed the Sharpchick mobile had a flat on the right rear tire sitting in my driveway.

More Carlin words.

Called my handy-dandy roadside assistance folks to send someone to change the flat.

Naturally, he got lost.

And naturally, he was one of those guys who think women can't give directions.

I finally said, young man, I know where I am - you don't. This will be a whole lot easier for both of us if you will shut up and listen to me.

When he got here, he exclaimed over my essentially brand new tires and wondered how the tire went flat. Looked at me as if he expected an answer.

I suggested he change the damned thing, let me sign the invoice so he can get paid, and be done with it. My tire guys will tell me tomorrow how it came to go flat.

And look! he exclaimed. You have a real spare, not a donut...so I don't have to tell you not to drive more than 45 miles an hour.

Okay...I don't do donuts, thankyouverymuch.

And you don't have to tell me how fast to drive...
Did some major rearranging around the cottage - mostly of the piles of genealogy stuff...threw out a lot of paper because I found I had already scanned and transcribed it.

Lately, I look at the family history papers with an eye about how my son will look at them when I'm gone.

I think he'll be a whole lot more likely to hang on to the flashdrives than boxes and cartons of reams of paper.
About 7 p.m., all the windchimes in the garden began jangling.

I looked out the window. It was dark.

The patio umbrella and American flag were threatening to go airborne.

Ditto chair cushions on the front deck.

I raced outside, collapsing and securing said umbrella, and gathering chair cushions...stowed them in the cottage and went back for the flag.

Had just taken the flag off the mount when the most spectacular bolt of cloud-to-ground lightning I've seen in a while zapped close enough to me to feel it in my fillings.

I stood there amazed for a few moments.

Until I realized I was clutching a five foot metal flagpole.
The journey is good.

And you get a few more miles of it if you don't tempt Nature...

Namaste.

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