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« I Hear Tell There Are These Things Called Tellyfones, As Well | Main | Seasonsick »

w August 13, 2007


In January, that's me with the blog updates. Quite honestly, things have happened, or I've been struck by events recently that made me think, oh, hey, blogging time. Have I acted on said? I have not. So I apologize to the three people who read this blog faithfully, and I thank you.

Speaking of molasses, I think we're finally detoxing from all the delicious and calorific Southern repasts out east. I admit that I wish we had biscuits just up the road that could be walked to on a Saturday morning, but I guess I could actually make my own, something which I have also thought on quite a bit and not acted upon. There's just something about summer vacation which makes execution of anything past the day to day a bit rough. Even that, at times, gets onerous. Shower? Why? Eat real meals? Why? Oh relax, I bathe and feed the KIDS. We've been doing swim lessons, to mixed reviews, but the light at the end of the tunnel is starting to flicker gently, at least for Peabo. Bean is always pretty good with the water, and both of them are allowing their faces to be submerged at least briefly. Baby paddles.

One of the more interesting things from our trip out east was spending time with Gene's aunt and uncle, and getting some family history to flesh out Gene's natal tree; I had been feeling faintly guilty that the girls would grow up with gobs of genealogy from my side (probably too much, if you really think about it...after a while it's just nostalgic masturbation), and little to none from Dad's side. Well, not only did Aunt Jo and Uncle Rex add a few names, what did we get in the mail the other day but a pile of pictures with notations on the back. It's not generations upon generations, but it's sure more than we had, and a great jumping off point for further research, not to mention a road trip to south Georgia. Yep. Gene's grandfather was from Wiregrass country...he's a cracker! Believe you me, I have been getting no end of amusement out of that one. I snottily informed him that my own WASP credential that showed up on the shores of Plymouth Colony in 1621 aboard the "Fortune" helped to balance that out...nostalgic masturbation!

Oh, I'm kidding y'all. Well, not about the facts, but trust me, I could give a toss beyond the historical fun inherent in knowing these threads. Great, my ancestors, at least some of them, were humorless, flinty eyed, intolerant Puritans. I think we NEED the crackers to balance that out for our kids. It got me thinking though, about the whole immigration debate and hooha that is currently raging. I suppose you could argue by this point I am nothing but American; on the other hand, part of the whole genealogy crap is finding out from whence your family originally hailed. If we are so thrilled about our own origins, why not be thrilled about modern day immigration? Oh, the illegal stuff? Yeah. Um. I'm not sure the Native Americans in 1621 had balloons and a glass of Madeira waiting for my antecedent (though in passing, I did discover he had been fined for 'hosting a Indian without leave'...rock on!)...it's all so very stupid. I taught a lot of kids who I'm quite sure had less than impeccable paperwork on their side, but I can assure you that none of their parents were leeches on the government system or whatever the current argument is. I know I'm just blithering here but it's something that just infuriates me to no end.

I once had a class where we tried to figure out what meant "Canadian". I'm kind of thinking that what means "American" is that initially you came from somewhere else. Even Native Americans wandered over the Bering Straits.

by at August 13, 2007 11:23 AM | TrackBack Comments
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