Month: October 2010

Home Again

Posted on by Kathleen

We made it back from our weekend trip to Jersey. It was touch and go for a little bit, but we made it a little after midnight. I’ve been to very few weddings in my lifetime. It comes from living all by ourselves down here in Maryland. So I walked into this with my mind wide open.

View outside my hotel room.

Then I wondered if it was fate or my cousin was just being the smart alec he’s always been. The hotel where wedding guests were staying was right next to a huge cemetery. It might have freaked a few people out but I couldn’t help but wonder what the oldest date in the cemetery was.

The wedding didn’t start until 2pm on Sunday. That left us with some extra time. We decided to take a small road trip to Dad’s hometown, Caldwell. We drove around seeing all the old houses. Then we decided to go to the cemetery.

Lindsley plot. Prospect Hill Cemetery.

I have only been to Prospect Hill Cemetery once before. I didn’t have a camera at the time. So I never got pictures of the graves myself. Luckily, I’ve had a lot of people that have sent me numerous pictures over the years. It never tops actually going yourself though. Especially because I’m going to use Google Earth to map out where the separate plots were in the cemetery. I didn’t expect them to be so spread out from each other!

Leonard plot. Prospect Hill Cemetery.

Walking around the cemetery, I could definitely see that I’ll have to go back in jeans and sneakers. I only walked about half the cemetery but I did find a Love ancestor I didn’t previously have. Grace Love-Leonard. After walking around a bit, we got in the car and headed to the wedding. My sister summed it up perfectly when she posted to her Facebook while I was walking around the cemetery. “We’re dressed for a wedding and end up walking around a cemetery. Only our family.” My sister had one part wrong though, it’s not only our family! It’s just a genealogy thing!

Busy Busy Busy

Posted on by Kathleen

The day after we said goodbye to our dear old mailbox, I did something stupid. In hindsight, I probably couldn’t have avoided it. It was probably going to happen no matter what kind of circumstances led to it. Alright, I’ll tell you. I fell down the front porch stairs. I didn’t fall down all the stairs luckily. Just the last two. The first night I was afraid I broke it, but luckily it’s just a sprain. The problem is I’m a horrible patient. The first two days I had problems getting comfortable whether I was sitting or standing. Now the problem is not over-doing things now that I’m finally on the mend. I just can’t sit still!

Click for full size

The second thing I’ve been doing is troubleshooting my new website design. I like keeping you guys updated on my progress because it keeps me from quitting. This design is all my own. I haven’t modified any templates to suit my needs. So it’s a labor of love that is taking awhile to do. My current issue is getting all three columns to line up. I need that middle one to scootch over a bit so the blog sidebar can move up in line with the rest of the layout. You can’t see it but it’s there all the way at the bottom. Then I’ll conquer the customization of all the WordPress things like the look of a blog entry and the sidebar customization. I’ll tell you though, more than once I’ve wanted to download a theme from somewhere and just be done with it! This will be more satisfying by far.

Hopefully it gets figured out by January 1st, because that’s when I’m starting my Llewellyn Project. I’ll tell you more about that during Sentimental Sunday.

The Comedic Chapter

Posted on by Kathleen

One day, I hope to write a memoir. Not to publish or distribute. Just a  way to maybe connect with future generations of my family. Llewellyn’s journal has made me feel connected to her and I want to recreate that in some small way.

If I were to write my memoir, I’d include all those funny child anecdotes, and not to mention all those teenage years where I was unruly and needed a good talking to. I’d be sure to include how I dealt with the fact that I was bullied mercilessly in middle school. All that drama and deep thinking wouldn’t be a very accurate portrayal of my life. To be perfectly honest, we’re pretty funny in this family. Our family is not only filled with drama, loss, and tears. We’ve had a whole lot of laughter too. The latest adventure I’m definitely putting in my memoir. It would be titled “The Comedic Chapter”.

You see we’ve had a battle going on since we put our new house on our property. We lived in a trailer here forever and never once had an issue with anything. You put a shiny new house on a lot of land and all of a sudden you’ve lost all street cred in the neighborhood.

The first year there was a mysterious incident where our mailbox was infested by ants. When I say infested, I mean INFESTED. After much discussion, we don’t believe there was any reason for it but hooligans. You know the type.

Six months after the infestation, our house was broken into. The only things taken were an X-Box and a bag of quarters. Well and the laundry hamper they used to carry it off. Again, HOOLIGANS. We have all kinds of shiny equipment that would make anyone drool. Yet it wasn’t touched.

The second year (or six months after the break-in), our mailbox fell victim to a rash and rare case of Mailbox Baseball. We’re pretty sure that’s what it was since the box was only hanging on by a nail. It wouldn’t have been so bad except we were the only mailbox affected along the whole street.

The third year, our signpost was physically picked up and thrown onto the pavement. How Rude! When I say physically picked up, I mean they had to use force because we’d gotten smart and started sinking things pretty deep. The signpost was shattered on the hard surface of Highway 235.

This Saturday was our breaking point. Things just went too far. Only this time, it wasn’t anyone’s fault. Well, no one’s fault that we can prove. On Saturday morning a police officer knocked on our door at 6:30AM. He was informing us that our mailbox was involved in an accident on the road. The kind police officer handed over what mail he could find in the dark and gave us a information booklet about being the victims of a crime.

When the sun came up and we could finally go out and survey the damage. We were all shocked to see the carnage left behind.

This is all that survives of our mailbox. The poor box was shattered. We’ve just put up our new box. It’s only temporary while we get a battle plan together. Gosh darnit, we will not be victims again. My idea to paint stop signs on the box was rejected.

This is what I would put into my memoir. This is a peek into our everyday life. Dinnertime conversations can be anything from politics to ways to thwart mailbox vandals. It’s at least a way to break up all the monotony of everyday life. This is what I find interesting. You never know what a future family member could take away from it. Will they call us the eccentric nutjobs? Maybe they’d keep reading in hopes of finding a sitcom like chain of events? Or maybe they’ll take the advice given and get a big, oversized dog to chase off any would-be vandals. It seems to work for my neighbors.