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Genealogy
Poems
GRANDMA AND THE
FAMILY TREE
There’s been
a change in Grandma; we’ve noticed her of late,
She’s always reading history or jotting down some date,
She’s tracking back the family; we’ll all have pedigrees.
Oh, Grandma’s got a hobby; she’s climbing Family Trees!
Poor Grandpa does the cooking now, or so he states,
That worst of all, he has to wash the cups and dinner plates.
Grandma can’t be bothered; she’s busy as a bee
Compiling genealogy—for the Family Tree.
She has no time to baby-sit;
the curtains are a fright,
No buttons left on Grandad’ shirt, the flowerbed’s a sight.
She’s given up her club work, the serials on TV,
The only thing she does nowadays is climb the Family Tree.
She goes down to the court house and studies ancient lore,
We know more about our forebears than we ever knew before.
The books are old and dusty; they make poor Grandma sneeze,
A minor irritation when you’re climbing Family Trees.
The mail is all for Grandma,
it comes from near and far,
Last week she got the proof she needs to join the DAR.
A worth while avocation, to that we all agree,
A monumental project, to climb the Family Tree.
Now some folks came from Scotland and some from Galway Bay,
Some were French as pastry, some German, all the way.
Some went on west to stake their claim, some stayed near by the
sea;
Grandma hopes to find them all as she climbs the Family Tree.
She wanders through the graveyard in search of
date or name
The rich, the poor, the in-between, all sleeping
there the same.
She pauses now and then to rest, fanned by a
gently breeze
That blows above the Fathers of all our
Family Trees.
There were pioneers and patriots mixed in our kith and
kin
Who blazed the paths of wilderness and fought through thick
and thin.
But none more staunch than Grandma, whose eyes light up
with glee
Each time she finds a missing branch for the
Family Tree.
Their skills were wide and
varied, from carpenter to cook
And one (Alas!) the record shows was hopelessly a crook.
Blacksmith, weaver, farmer, judge, some tutored for a fee,
Long lost in time, now all recorded on the Family Tree.
To some, it’s just a hobby; to Grandma, it’s much more,
She knows the joys and heartaches of those who went before.
They loved, they lost, they laughed, and they wept,
and now lay forever still, But they will not be forgotten as
long,
as Grandma climbs the Family Tree!
Author Unknown
e-mailed to me by my friend, Betty: 4/27/01
TODAY I VISITED YESTERDAY
By Pat Conner Rice
Today I visited yesterday, And walked among the graves
Of family and friends from long ago. Whose memory had begun to
fade.
The graves were unattended As were my thoughts of them
When a vision of the ages past Brought back my sense of kin.
The vision showed the church lawn On a crisp summer day
The table spread, the food prepared And friends who would break
bread
All my relatives were there. Both young and old
Grandma and I walked hand and hand Sharing stories never told
We laughed and cried and Shared our thoughts.
And I found the friend I thought I’d lost. As the sun began to
fade…
The church bell rang out clear Grandma and the others slowly
disappeared
Today I visited yesterday And now the memory is strong
Of the family from which I came
AND NOW BELONG…
Thanks Betts for
forwarding 1/16/2002
I don't know
how true all this is............but........it is interesting
reading.
Next time you are washing your hands and complain because the
water temperature isn't just how you like it, think about
how things used to be....
Here are some facts
about the 1500s:
Most people
got married in June because they took their yearly bath in May and still smelled pretty good by June.
However, they were starting to smell so brides carried a
bouquet of flowers
to hide the body odor. Baths consisted of a big tub filled with hot water. The man of
the house had the privilege of the nice clean water, then all the other sons and men, then the women and finally the children -- last of all the babies. By then the water was so dirty you could actually lose someone in it-hence the saying, "Don't
throw the baby out with the bath water"
Houses had
thatched roofs-thick straw, piled high, with no wood underneath. It was the only place for animals to get warm, so all the dogs, cats and other small animals (mice rats, and bugs) lived in the roof. When it rained it became slippery and sometimes the animals would slip and fall off the roof -- hence the saying
"It's raining cats and dogs."
There was
nothing to stop things from falling into the house. This posed a real problem in the bedroom where bugs and other droppings could really mess up your nice clean bed. Hence, a
bed
with big posts and a sheet hung over the top afforded some protection. That's how canopy beds came into existence. The floor was dirt. Only the wealthy had something other than dirt, hence the saying
"dirt poor." The wealthy had slate floors that would get slippery in the winter when wet, so they spread thresh on the floor to help
keep their footing. As the winter wore on, they kept adding more
thresh until when you opened the door it would all start slipping outside. A piece of wood was placed in the entranceway -- hence, a
"thresh hold."
They cooked
in the kitchen with a big kettle that always hung over the fire. Every day they lit the fire and added things to the pot. They ate mostly vegetables and did not get much meat. They would eat the stew for dinner, leaving leftovers in the
pot to get cold overnight and then start over the next day.
Sometimes the stew had food in it that had been there for quite a while -- hence the rhyme,
"peas porridge
hot, peas porridge cold, peas porridge in the pot nine days old."
Sometimes
they could obtain pork, which made them feel quite special. When visitors came over, they would hang up their
bacon to show off. It was a sign of wealth that a man
"could bring
home the
bacon." They would cut off
a little to share with guests and would all sit around and
"chew the fat."
Those with
money had plates made of pewter. Food with a high acid content caused some of the lead to leach onto the food, causing lead poisoning and death. This happened most often with
tomatoes, so for the next 400 years or so, tomatoes were considered poisonous. ( I question this one. I thought tomatoes came from the new world and so didn't reach Europe until the 1500's. Lead poisoning is cumulative so an awful lot of
tomatoes must have been grown and eaten!)
Most people did not have pewter plates, but had trenchers, a piece of wood with the middle scooped out like a bowl. Often trenchers were made from stale pays and bread which was so old
and hard that they could use them for quite some time.
Trenchers were never washed and a lot of times worms and mold got into
the wood and old bread. After eating off wormy moldy trenchers, one
would get
"trench mouth."
Bread was
divided according to status. Workers got the burnt bottom of the loaf, the family got the middle, and guests got the top, or
"upper crust."
Lead cups
were used to drink ale or whiskey. The combination would sometimes knock them out for a couple of days. Someone walking along the road would take them for dead and prepare
them for burial. They were laid out on the kitchen table for a
couple of days and the family would gather around and eat and drink
and wait and see if they would wake up hence the custom of holding
a "wake."
England is
old and small and they started out running out of places to bury people. So they would dig up coffins and would take the bones to a
"bone-house"
and reuse the grave. When reopening these coffins, 1 out of 25 coffins were found to have scratch marks on the inside and they realized they had been burying people alive. So they thought they would tie a string
on the wrist of the corpse, lead it through the coffin and up
through the ground and tie it to a bell. Someone would have to sit out in the graveyard all night
(the "graveyard
shift") to listen for the bell; thus, someone could be "saved by the bell" or was considered a
"dead ringer."
And that's
the truth... (and whoever said that History was boring?!)
Thanks Aunt Jean
for forwarding above 1/06/02
'Twas the night before Christmas
'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 copies of old 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 forgot.
Had I not been so busy with grandparent's wills,
I'd not have forgotten to shop for such thrills.
While others had bought gifts that would bring Christmas
cheer;
I'd spent time researching those birth dates 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 sleigh and eight small reindeer.
Up to the housetop the reindeer then flew,
With a sleigh full of toys, and old 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 come from 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 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 Pled."
"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 rare special treat I am thus able to bring,
To genealogy folks who can't find a thing.
Now off you must 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!"
Thanks OE Shaffer for forwarding the above email 1/09/03
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