Listography: Some Traditions Suck!

Ok. True confessions time. I used to LOVE Christmas. My parents made Christmas magical for us. They even continued giving us gifts from "Santa" long after St. Nick himself had put us on the naughty list with all the other teenagers with bad attitudes.

When I got married and was establishing new Christmas traditions with my husband and children, I had a real struggle on my hands. My husband (now Darling eX-Husband) had a very difficult time at Christmas. I had heard of such things, but had never met anyone that actually experienced it.  It wasn't until many years later that we discovered that he was struggling with Bipolar Disorder. It was a few years after that we discovered that Bipolar Disorder was a trait passed to two of our children. Hooray for DNA!

Unfortunately, many of our Christmas memories are like those of children who grew up with alcoholics. We definitely put the funk in dys-funk-tional!

So here we are, it's Christmas 2011. "DXH" is happily married to "ESM" (the kids lovingly refer to her as Evil Step-Mother--seriously, it's meant as a term of endearment!) He's stable and working. "The Hulk" is living with them and doesn't turn green nearly as often as he used to. "The Riddler" is managing his condition proactively and creatively. These are all things for which I am profoundly grateful. BUT, my children for the most part have grown up planning on Christmas being disappointing and painful. This leaves me in the throes of trying to establish all new positive Christmas traditions and Christmas memories. I'm trying to re-create Christmas magic with little money, zero time, and not much hope of success. My hope is that the kids will establish all new magical traditions with their spouses and children. My hope is that they recognize that I kept trying and never gave up.

Here is what we do every year (or nearly every year):

• Plan on sending Christmas newsletter
• Plan on sending New Year's newsletter
• Plan on sending Ground Hog Day newsletter
• Shoot for next year on the newsletter
• Commit to fitness goals between Thanksgiving and Christmas
• Forget fitness goals when there is fudge in the room
• Re-commit to fitness goals for the New Year 
• Forget fitness goal--it's 15 below!
• Read Samuel the Lamanite's prophecies.
• Read Isaiah's prophecies
• Make Latkes and spin the Dreydl for Hanukkah
• Listen to the children remind me that "Mom, you know we're not Jewish, right?"
• Smile three months later when same children ask if we can have a Passover Seder.
• Plan to take the kids on a ski trip in lieu of presents
• Look at bank balance and rule out ski trip
• Ignor bank balance and go skiing anyway.
• Receive $25 parking ticket for parking on the even side of the street on an odd day.
• Revisit bank balance--make a list of people to whom I can get away with giving baked goods or thoughtful homemade gifts.
• Sing The Messiah with the Symphony Chorus
• Debate the benefits of the live vs. artificial Christmas tree
• Absolutely forbid the use of tinsel
• Reverse tinsel mandate.
• Curse the tangle of Christmas lights--This tradition is passed down from my dad.
• Wonder why my Christmas tree always looks like it got dressed in the dark--blame the tinsel.
• Attend friend's Caroling party, but avoid actual caroling because it 15 below and the buffet is warm.
• Watch Charlie Brown Christmas and cry when Linus recites Luke 2
• Watch It's a Wonderful Life and cry.
• Watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas (Boris Karloff version) and cry.
• Watch A Christmas Story and laugh and cry--prompting children to comment on my tendency to cry over EVERY movie I watch.
• Avoid all Lifetime Made for TV Christmas movies.
• Enjoy goodies left by the "Christmas Ninjas"
• Act as "Christmas Ninjas"
• Absolutely refuse to go in to work on Christmas Eve
• Go in to work on Christmas Eve
• Show up an hour and a half late to my brother's house--see previous item.
• Shop for stocking stuffers at Walgreen's on Christmas eve becasue they're the only store still open.
• Read A Visit from Saint Nicholas
• Read Luke 2 with the kids.
• Cook a turkey and have someone ask why we're not having ham
• Cook a ham and have someone ask why we're not having turkey
• Ponder the possibility of melting chocolate on a spoon and injecting into my veins
• Sing "Santa Baby" until children beg me to stop.
• Try singing other carols to get endless loop of "Santa Baby" out of my head.
• "Santa Baby" replaced by endless loop of "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas"
• Call my family on the phone.
• Realize Christmas was just fine and wonder what I was so panicked about.

What are your sucky traditions?

No Blood Relation

This post is especially dedicated to my sweet niece Julie and her two sons, Kevin and Nico. She asked me, as the de facto family historian, where the Crithfields came from--I never did get back to her. Special thanks to Janet Wright for the excellent research and beautiful photos she is posting on Ancestry.com

George Ross Crithfield IV is my nephew. George Ross Crithfield III is my eldest brother. George Ross Crithfield II was my mother's first husband and my older siblings' father. George Ross Crithfield I is no blood relation.

Did your brain make that record scratch noise? Did you tip your head to the side like my dog does when I run through the house in a towel?

In my last post, you were introduced to Emma Nevada Pauline Kleine Goforth Crithfield. Emma's first husband, Charles Goforth, died of complications from diabetes before the advent of insulin. She remarried my older siblings' grandfather Henry Crithfield. Henry Crithfield was born Henry Haueise in Brookfield, Missouri, in 1887.

From here the story gets just a little shaky. My mother always told the story that as a teenager, he was "farmed out" to help support the family. Some boys who went to live as hired hands were treated brutally, starved, beaten like rented mules. Henry, however, went to work for Mr. George Ross Crithfield, who was kind and treated him like a son. Later Henry took this foster father's last name.

Other evidence (swiped from his granddaughter Janet's public tree on Ancestry.com--I should probably have asked before posting this) suggests that Mr. Crithfield and his wife Mary adopted Henry at the age of two following his mother's death. His brothers and sisters were adopted by other families.

Either way, the impact of Mr. Crithfield's kindness has impacted my family for four generations of namesakes--but he is no blood relation.

A Post for Another Day--Emma Nevada Pauline Kleine Goforth Crithfield

My dear mother is an independent women who comes from a long line of strong English women--stiff upper lip and all that. She had her knee replaced last month. I was secretly hoping that surgery and recovery would induce her to accept some help from me and the kids. "Oh, not to worry. I'm fine."

Well, Mom was on my mind today, so, of course, I had to give her a call. Talk turned to genealogy. I've been trying to get her to tell me more about her childhood, her parents, her grandparents. She told me a wonderful story, one that she has told me many times before. It is a little worrisome that she repeats stories, I'm concerned about her memory. She will even ask, "Have I told you this before?" It doesn't matter what our answer is, she tells the story anyway. It's OK, she's a very good story-teller.

This particular story is especially amusing because, when I'm trying to get her to talk about my ancestors, she tells me about her ex-mother-in-law, Emma Nevada Pauline Kleine Goforth Crithfield. No blood relation at all, but grandmother to my older brothers and sister. (More about the importance of "no blood relation" in another post.)

My mother has always said how wonderful both her mothers-in-law were. According to my mother, Emma's father was a sea captain. Her mother came from Germany. She sailed around the horn to get to California. The captain gave up the sea and started a ranch in Oso Flaco, Santa Barbara County, California.

Emma's job on the ranch was to make the bread for the family and all the hands. She would roll up her sleeves to knead the dough and shape the loaves. One of the ranch hands, a young Charles Goforth, told her what lovely wrists she had. In a day and age when allowing your petticoat to show while dancing caused the little old ladies to comment on your virtue, a shapely wrist was probably exciting stuff--especially to a ranch hand who spends his days looking at cattle and horses.

Another time, Emma and Charles went for a buggy ride. The horse had eaten some green alfalfa and started spraying awful green alfalfa nastiness. They had to hide behind the buggy robe to avoid being sprayed with "you-know-what." Well, this struck them funny and they got a case of the giggles.

Emma and Charles were married in 1904. Early on the morning of April 18, 1906, they were awakened by their bed shaking. It continued to shake for several minutes. They grabbed onto the sides of the bed and held on. The ridiculousness of the situation struck them funny. They laughed and rode the bed till the earthquake stopped. They heard noises and people screaming in the streets. They went outside they saw that the chimney had fallen. It probably would have killed them had they gone out earlier. Then they saw the smoke and the fire across the bay in San Francisco.

When Mom was telling me this story the other day, it finally dawned on me that she was talking about THE San Francisco Earthquake and Fire.

Serendipity Moment: at the gym today, I was listening to back episodes of Genealogy Gems podcast by Lisa Louise Cook. She was talking about how to research victims of the San Francisco Earthquake and Fire. Don't you love it when that happens??? 

More about my Crithfield relations in another post.

Wecipe Wednesday: Crazy Cake

When my little brother was old enough to go to school, my mother went to work. I was too young to be responsible for my rambunctious little brother; I was too young to be responsible for myself. Summertime would have been problematic if it had not been for Ruthie. Ruthie was our babysitter for that first summer. Because Ruthie's father was an Apostolic minister, her family did not watch television or go to the movies.

In the morning, we would go to Summer School. When we got home, Ruthie would come over and make us lunch and then we would play. As I recall that summer was unusually wet and we had lots of rainy days. Rather than turn on the TV, Ruthie would bring over puzzles and games. We played Old Maid and Crazy Eights. We played Authors and Go Fish. We made potholders and painted rocks. One day Ruthie taught us how to make Crazy Cake.

I had made box cakes before, and I had taken Fun with Food in Summer School. This was absolutely bizarre to me. It didn't have the ingredients that I thought it should have. It had vinegar in it, but no eggs. How could this possibly work and not taste like pickles.

"That's why they call it Crazy Cake," Ruthie said.

Every time I make Crazy Cake, I think of Ruthie and her gentle way off getting my little brother and me through that long, wet, latchkey summer. So here it is.

• Crazy Cake
• 3 cups all-purpose flour
• 2 cups white sugar
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 2 teaspoons baking soda
• 1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
• 3/4 cup vegetable oil
• 2 tablespoons distilled white vinegar
• 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
• 2 cups cold water

1. Sift flour, sugar, salt, soda, and cocoa together into a 9 x 13 inch ungreased cake pan. Make three wells. Pour oil into one well, vinegar into second, and vanilla into third well. Pour cold water over all, and stir well with fork.
2. Bake at 350 degrees F (175 degrees C) for 30 to 40 minutes, or until tooth pick inserted comes out clean. Frost with your favorite icing or dust with powdered sugar.

What recipe tickled your fancy as a child? Comment below.

Listography: Places I've lived

I have moved a lot in my life. In fact, each of my eight children was born in a different state. Well, that's not exactly accurate--my oldest and my youngest were both born in Wisconsin--but still, lots of moving in between. Lots.
Partly it was our economic situation, partly it was the Air Force, and honestly, some of it was escapism. The grass is greener, and all that.  My poor descendants are going to have a terrible time tracking me down. 

So here's the list:

1965-1971--Detroit, Michigan

1971-1983--Algoma, Wisconsin

1983-1984--Provo, Utah

1984-1985--Orem, Utah

1985--Algoma, Wisconsin

1985--Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin

1985--Forestville, Wisconsin

1985-1986--San Antonio, Texas

1986-1987--San Angelo, Texas

1987-1990--Berlin, Germany

1990-1993--Ft. Meade, Maryland

1993--Creston, Iowa

1993-1995--Provo, Utah

1995-1997--Duchesne, Utah

1997-1998--Osceola, Iowa

1998-2006--Sheboygan, Wisconsin

2006-2010--Peoria, Arizona

2010-Present--Sheboygan, Wisconsin

Twenty-five addresses, eighteen cities, eight states, two countries--all in 46 years. That's an average of 1 year 10 months per address. I'm not yet living in the house I want to stay in, so I have at least one move left.  My plan is to stay here in Sheboygan, but you know what they say... If you want to give God a good laugh, tell Him your plans.

Where have you lived? Has your family been the community mainstays or the gypsies? Comment below.

Four Generations Last Chance Photo

If you want to be successful, do what successful people do. So, I am becoming a student of successful blogs. I've been visiting other genealogy blogs, including Geneabloggers.com. I mentioned in a previous post that an issue of Family Tree Magazine on the newsstand needed to come home with me. In addition to information on researching Detroit roots, was an article highlighting the years 40 best blogs. 

Special thanks to Amy Coffin of We Tree. She has posted prompts to help newbie bloggers with crippling writer's block.  In 2009, Amy offered 52 Ideas to Jumpstart Your Genealogy Blog. Idea number one was to upload a favorite picture. 

The photo above was taken in June of 2006. The day before my children and I moved from Sheboygan, Wisconsin, to Phoenix, Arizona. 

Left to right you see Katherine Joan Carroll Thurman holding Noah Wyitt Thurman, me, Donald Norman Mitchell, and Joan Frances Carpen Mitchell. 

The picture not only captures meeting my new grandson, but also the last time I saw my father well. He died in October of 2009.

The stories of the move and my dad's passing are topics for another post.

Poor, Sad, Neglected Blog

So here's the problem: fourteen hour workdays, kids starting school, crippling writer's block, a terrible case of the weeps, and several nights of coming home dragging my purse behind me, deciding to sit down for just a minute and waking up in the recliner in the clothes I wore to work the day before--Eww! Plus, I suspended internet service at the house for the time being.

Blogging just isn't happening.

The good news is that we are settling into the school routine (complete with the werewolf's first nuclear meltdown of the season--you who know me, know what I'm talking about).

The other good news is that my silly, little newsletter at work is being very well received. Even people who don't want to buy a car from me have asked to stay on my newsletter mailing list. I'm getting a lot of satisfaction from my newsletter. If you would like to receive News from Your Car Gal just comment below and I'll add you to my list. You'll be getting car-buying tips, specials, coupons, recipes and a comic strip called The Dealership by Max Carroll.

Before diving back into my blog, I've been studying what other genealogy bloggers are doing. I've been checking out what I like and what I don't like. Unlike the newsletter which is for a very specific readership--and I know who is reading and who isn't--the blog is just going out into the ether and I have very little idea who my readers really are.  So my blog is really more for me than for you. But you are most welcome.

 Special thanks to Amy Coffin of We Tree. She has posted blogging prompts that I find very helpful in breaking through the writer's block and the resulting case of the weeps. For the next little while, I expect you'll be seeing lots of material suggested by her prompts. By all means, join me in the comments, or you own blog, or both.

Wecipe Wednesday: Roasted Sweet Potato Sandwich

I experienced this amazing sandwich at a teacher appreciation luncheon that the PTO arranged for us. The lunch was catered by the Wildflower Bread Company in Phoenix. I was craving this sandwich, but I live 1,900 miles out of their delivery area. So I Googled...and I adapted...because I couldn't find figs to make a fig confit. So this is my mostly plagiarized version.

Sweet potato
Tomatoes
Onions
Fresh mozzarella
Chopped dates
Balsamic Vinegar
Spring greens, arugula, spinach, romaine, whatever (no Iceberg allowed!!!)
Hearty whole grain bread
Mayonnaise

Bake the sweet potato and slice it into thick slices. Slice the onion, tomato, and mozzarella. If you're using dried dates, soak them in hot water for 15 minutes or so. Drain. Drizzle with balsamic vinegar. Toast the bread. Spread the mayonnaise on one slice the date mixture on the other slice. Layer sweet potato, onion, tomato, mozzarella and greens.

I guarantee you won't miss the cold cuts. Even my carnivorous teenagers liked these!

Yes, fig confit is even better than the dates, but you work with what you have.

Do you have a favorite food that came as a total surprise? You didn't expect to love it but you do?
Comment below!

Newbie Tuesday: You say To-may-to; I say To-mah-to

I have had difficulty balancing work, keeping house, making a living, raising children, writing a newsletter, writing a blog, researching my family tree and on and on and on. So my blog posts have been few and far between.

I have had a recent breakthrough in my research that has restored my motivation. Again it was a matter of going back to the basics. Reading the instructions. Starting with what you know and building on it.

Rather than continuing to bash my head against the Iron Curtain Brick Wall searching for my Romanian grandfather, I decided to turn my attention elsewhere and come back to Romania later.

Where to go now? I decided to start at the top with my Mitchell line. The Mitchell line marches back fairly simply: Donald Norman, son of Norman Wilfred, son of William Richard, son of George William, son of William. (I must say the English show little imagination in choosing names for their children.)

It's with George William that I get stuck. He has been conspicuously absent from census records. In fact, it wasn't until I started searching for William Richard as a child that I found anything.

By searching for the children I was able to find the parents, the grandparents and some younger siblings that nobody knew about before. I found George's marriage record and learned that he was a mariner. This explains his absences and it also explains Patrick's passion for sailing. Check out his blog here.

I was also able to correct the mistaken identity of my great-great-grandmother. Dad had her name listed as Ellen Daily. Turns out her name was Eliza Darby--transcribed in FreeBMD as Eliza Darley. This is why seasoned genealogists advise newbies to keep an open mind about spellings.

By being open to alternate spellings, I found that the surname Schaeferling, which means Shepherd evolved from Schifferle, which means something to do with sailing ships. Another clue into Patrick's nautical blood.

Wecipe Wednesday: Arizona Date Pies

This is the time of year that dates are plentiful in Arizona. My dear friend Jeannie just came to Wisconsin for a visit. So these super-easy, super-yummy cakes came to mind. Tip: if you're using dried chopped dates from the raisin aisle, you might try soaking them in hot water for a half-hour or so to plump them up and make them moist.

1 cup Powdered Sugar
1 cup chopped Walnuts
1 cup pitted dates (I like Medjool--whatever you've got is fine)
2 eggs

2 Tbsp. Flour
1 tsp. baking powder

The official recipe calls for beating the egg whites until stiff and creaming the egg yolks and the powdered sugar together. You can fuss if you want. I just throw it all into the food processor until it's all well blended--it comes out the same either way. Bake in a lightly greased cupcake pan at 375 for 15-20 minutes. They should look caved in--it's ok, that's what holds the whipped cream. Cool and serve with whipped cream (real whipped cream please, not the aerosol spray stuff or the non-dairy whipped topping--trust me on this).

These are great for brunch, afternoon tea, or dessert...or whenever you've got the blues.

Happy Belated Pioneer Day!

This past Sunday was our one and only real Mormon holiday. We celebrate all the standard holidays Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving--any excuse to reflect, get the family together, and serve food. Pioneer Day is our own. July 24th, 1848 is the day that  the Mormon Pioneers first entered the Salt Lake Valley. It's the day that we honor our spiritual, if not biological, forebears who made great sacrifices and demonstrated remarkable courage in the face of overwhelming odds.

There are many, many stories of courageous men, women and children who trekked west to escape persecution and enjoy religious freedom. None of these stories are mine. The closest we have is the ancestor of my ex-husband's step-uncle who started west, said Screw this! and stayed in Iowa. Not terribly inspirational--but that's a story for another post.

My mother was the first Mormon in our family's history. She is our Mormon Pioneer. Her decision to listen to missionaries in Oakland, California has impacted three generations, so far. As a direct result, my son served as a missionary in England and Wales. The ripples continue.

The fact that my mother was even born in the United States and could enjoy religious freedom is a direct result of my grandfather George Carpen emigrating from Romania in 1914--before the Communist regime.

Combine that with the courage of my great-grandmother, Hannah Mary Reynolds Goddard Moore. She was a midwife, mother of 9, and had lost her husband to pneumonia and her eldest son to the war. She took in the church laundry, sold everything to the bare walls and got on the first passenger liner to leave England after World War I.

Because of my family's pioneers, the great cosmic choreography made it possible for me to celebrate Pioneer Day with my little band of Mormon Pioneers.

Newbie Tuesday: I Know You Are But What Am I?

OK, true confessions time. I have to admit it and come to terms with the fact that I am a genealogical newbie.
I have been an amateur genealogist since 4th grade. I thought this blog would allow me to help others who were just starting out to avoid the research pitfalls and enjoy generation after generation of blissfully waving little leaves on their family trees.

NOT!  What the bleep do I know?

Here's what I learned this past week. I was reading Megan Smolenyak's Who Do You Think You Are. I felt my batteries recharging (Seriously, Megan, call me. Let's get together for a piece of pie). I realized that when ALL of the experts tell you to look through your home for clues you've already got, there is a reason.

I pooh-poohed that nugget of advice because we've moved so many times, all of my genealogy documents are together in the same accordion files in the same milk crate they've been in for the past three moves. This past week, I started looking at my documents with fresh eyes. I found loads of information that I didn't glean and connections I didn't make.

I can GoogleEarth addresses on censuses. What about poverty maps, like Patsy Kensit used in her episode of WDYTYA? What about starting with what you know and working backwards?

For example, when my great grandparents emigrated from England in 1893 (see previous post) they had already decided to settle in Detroit. My grandfather was a boiler makerDid he already have job prospects lined up? Was he merely banking on the boom of the industrial revolution? Were they escaping Jack the Ripper? Was he Jack the Ripper?

The point is that I have a lot more clues at my fingertips than I thought I did--just because I'm taking another, closer look at what I already have. Maybe you have more than you think you do. You just need to take a closer look.

Who Do I Think I Am Thursday: How I Made My Father Light Up Like a Christmas Tree

My father had a great passion for life-long learning. There is a scripture, Doctrine and Covenants 130:19 which reads,

And if a person gains more ^aknowledge and intelligence in this life through his ^bdiligence and obedience than another, he will have so much the ^cadvantage in the world to come. (http://lds.org/scriptures/dc-testament/dc/130.19?lang=eng)

It could almost read, "...if a person gains more knowledge...like Don Mitchell"

There are two times in my adult life that I remember making my father beam. Once, after reading The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown, he asked me how the Fibonacci Sequence applied to music and I knew the answer. (That's a story for another post).

The other time was shortly after I had bought my first laptop. He had brought a diskette (remember those?) to my house and let me transfer GEDCOM files into PAF. He asked me if I could find immigration records for his grandparents who had come through Ellis Island.

The family in question were my great-grandparents, William Richard Mitchell and Alice Mary Ann Hudson. According to the family legend, William and Alice had 2 sons born in England, 1 born on the passage over, and 2 born in Detroit. The shipboard delivery of my great uncle George would certainly help narrow down their dates of passage.

I rolled up my sleeves and clicked away at www.ellisisland.org. I started with a search for "William Richard Mitchell" and guess what I got? Bupkiss. So I broadened my search and looked for just "Mitchell" Now I got 12,195 hits. Too many to wade through.

Mitchell, W=1003 hits....Hmm...many, many men traveling, not many women.
Mitchell, Alice=68...that's doable. Eliminate the ones that are too old or too young. Limit it to women were born in 1868 and who traveled around 1892, when Uncle George was born. There was only one.

We had found her. Alice Mitchell, age 25, traveling in 1893 aboard the ship Campania. I looked at Dad; he looked at me. He grinned.

Now who was traveling with her? The website did not yet have images of the manifest. So I was going to have to search for the family members one by one.

New Search...Oh look...an advanced search page. Where was that before?

So we searched for people with the last name Mitchell traveling in 1893 on Campania.

Wm. Mitchell age 25
Willie Mitchell age 4
Arthur Mitchell age 3 and
George Mitchell age 0. (Family Myth busted. Uncle George was born 5 December 1892. The ship arrived in New York on 24 June 1893. He was tiny, to be sure, but definitely 6 months post-natal.)

We had found them all. Robert Langdon had nothing on us. Dad's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. That is the look I would give anything to see again.

PS--Months later when an image of the original manifest was available online. I was amazed that anyone was able to accurately transcribe that penmanship. But guess who was traveling with the Mitchells--Mary Hudson-age 70. Alice's mother or grandmother? That's a story for another post.

Tender Mercies: God Likes Me!

First of all, let me just tell you how grateful I am to have my computer back. I must say the Geniuses at the Apple Store at Bay Shore Mall are my new best friends. They gave me great customer service and got my computer back to me in two days rather than the 5 to 7 they had prepared me for. At work, we are reminded to under promise and over deliver. This clearly works, because I can't stop giving the Apple Store free advertising.

Secondly, I have just been raking in the good luck. I found Megan Smolenyak Smolenyak's Who Do You Think You Are? The Essential Guide to Tracing Your Family History. I definitely want to have Megan over for dinner. She speaks my language. I feel like I should at least send her a muffin basket. More on this book in another post.

Third, I was sitting at the piano in Primary (Children's Sunday School for those of you who don't speak Mormon). Half of my brain was focusing on the paralytic perfectionism that has been keeping me from writing anything of substance and it's kept my researching wheels spinning. The next song I played for the kiddos to sing was Families Can Be Together Forever, the last line of which is "the Lord has shown me how I can." I felt as though this song was directed at me.

The Lord knows what I'm trying to do. He knows how to teach me to do the things I'm trying to accomplish. He's putting resources in my path to help me be successful. I just have to look around and recognize them. 

So as the Primary children were singing this song, I felt God tell me, "You're okay Kiddo, just keep plugging along." I've always known that God loves me. Today it feels as though He likes me, too. 

Serendipity Saturday: Family Tree Magazine--Just for me???

The spacebar on my darling MacBook broke...off. So, Saturday, after work, while my kids were having a Father's Day/Birthday picnic with their dad and new step-mom (that's a post for another day) I drove down to Milwaukee to Bay Shore Mall to visit the Genius Bar at the Apple Store. I got really, really good service. Which is why, even though genealogy is a little less convenient on Mac, I still love Apple. 

Anyway, Barnes and Noble (my other place of worship) is conveniently kiddy-corner to the Apple Store so I had to go in. I picked up the July 2011 issue of Family Tree Magazine. In the sealed plastic wrapper there was a copy of Family Tree Builder 5.0 (this is of no use to me, I have Mac, see above--if you want it, it's yours). On the cover, the featured articles got me excited. Not only did they have articles about the state census and top 40 genealogy blogs (so I can check out how to do this right), there is an article on 

research tips for Detroit!

This article alone is worth the price of the magazine, the drive down to Milwaukee, the broken spacebar...and the order of Mushroom Stroganoff with Braised Beef at Noodles & Co. 

My family came from the various old countries (England, Germany, Switzerland and Romania) and settled in Detroit between 1832 and 1923. My nuclear family moved to Wisconsin in 1971, but aunts, uncles and cousins remain in Detroit. 

I was thinking that I was just going to have to take a trip to Detroit to visit family and to raid the courthouse. Good thing I picked up this issue of Family Tree Magazine. Now I have a wealth of resources to try online before making a trip. This also gives me a new angle to use when reconnecting with my cousins: "I saw this article about genealogy in Detroit and so naturally that made me think of you and how long it's been since we talked." I'd totally go for that if the shoe were on the other foot.

So, all because Family Tree Magazine was publishing an article on Detroit research tips, God arranged for my spacebar to break, so I'd be near the bookstore and of course go in and buy the magazine, thereby opening the path for finding more dead people to write to you about. That's Serendipity.

Wecipe Wednesday: Max Makes Cookies pt I & II

Yesterday was my birthday. As a little gift to myself I'm posting two of my top ten favorite videos of all time (Part 1 and Part 2)--and one of my top ten favorite recipes of all time (Chocolate Chip Cookies). Thank you to my talented 18yo. Take 17 minutes out of your day and enjoy the film-making elan of Max Carroll. You can watch more of his videos on YouTube. Look for TheOtakuMax.

Tender Mercies: Happy Father's Day

Today's post is a talk I gave a year ago when I was visiting the branch I grew up in. I've been thinking about it lately so I decided to pull it out, dust it off and post it.

Most, if not all, of you knew my father. You know how blessed I am. I feel like Nephi did at the beginning of the Book of Mormon. "I, [Margaret] having been born of goodly parents, therefore I was taught somewhat in all the learning of my father.”

When my dad was in the hospital, and then when he passed on, I thought quite a bit about being taught in the learning of my father. He was an accountant, very skilled in math. I am a music teacher, I can count to 4 over and over again. I thought about the lessons my father had taught me. My brother and I were talking about this. We realized that our dad was not the type to sit us down and have heart-to-heart talks with us. Of course, we talked about all manner of things, but he never said to me, “Peg, a good work ethic is an important character trait.” He simply got up every morning, put on his tie and went to work. He never said, “always be honest” he simply was honest. He didn’t tell me how important education was, he just never stopped learning. He didn’t explicitly teach us life’s lessons, he simply lived them. He just walked the walk. I am eternally grateful for the example that he set for me.

Unfortunately, in our society, and indeed within our Church, there are many who are not as fortunate as I have been. According to the National Center for Health Statistics nearly 40% of all babies born in the US are born to single mothers. Twenty-five million children are being raised in single parent households. Maybe this is your story as well. Maybe your own father was absent. Perhaps he died, perhaps your parents were divorced, perhaps he was there in body but not in spirit. For you, Father’s Day may be a difficult day to celebrate. 

Our Heavenly Father loves us, he knows us individually, and he does not leave us comfortless. If your story is a fatherless one, who filled that gap for you? Did your mom play both roles? Was it an uncle, a grandfather, a step-dad ? (the Savior was raised by a step-dad by the way) I hope that we will take time today to thank and honor not only our biological fathers, but also our good father figures.

I have had some very fine examples set for my children not only by their grandfather, but by bishops, home teachers, quorum leaders, and family friends. I have offered many prayers of gratitude for these men. 

I remember a deacons quorum leader in the foyer with his arms around Max’s shoulders teaching him how to tie his tie. I remember coming home in the wee hours after one of many visits to the ER with my daredevil son Spencer and having my home teacher chastise me. “I don’t care if it’s three in the morning...911 first, home teacher second.” Many, many calls for priesthood blessings when Liam was raging out of control from a misdiagnosed, incorrectly medicated mood disorder. Good bishops and leaders who taught my sons how to perform their priesthood duties. A home teacher who baptized my youngest. Full-time missionaries and ward missionaries who came to my home and taught my son-in-law the gospel. Family friends who took my boys along on Father and Son campouts, taught my daughter how to change tires and change oil, made household and automotive repairs I couldn’t do on my own.

How grateful I am to these men for taking to heart the Apostle James’ words, “Pure religion and undefiled before God the Father is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction...” (James 1:27) 

How grateful I am that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, while sensitive to those in differing circumstances, continues to teach that a traditional nuclear family with a mother and a father, legally and lawfully wedded, is the correct model to follow. 

In The Family: A Proclamation to the World the Church makes clear Heavenly Father’s revealed pattern. 

WE, THE FIRST PRESIDENCY and the Council of the Twelve Apostles of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, solemnly proclaim that marriage between a man and a woman is ordained of God and that the family is central to the Creator’s plan for the eternal destiny of His children. ¶1

HUSBAND AND WIFE have a solemn responsibility to love and care for each other and for their children. “Children are an heritage of the Lord” (Psalm 127:3). Parents have a sacred duty to rear their children in love and righteousness, to provide for their physical and spiritual needs, and to teach them to love and serve one another, observe the commandments of God, and be law-abiding citizens wherever they live. Husbands and wives—mothers and fathers—will be held accountable before God for the discharge of these obligations. ¶6

THE FAMILY is ordained of God. Marriage between man and woman is essential to His eternal plan. Children are entitled to birth within the bonds of matrimony, and to be reared by a father and a mother who honor marital vows with complete fidelity. Happiness in family life is most likely to be achieved when founded upon the teachings of the Lord Jesus Christ. Successful marriages and families are established and maintained on principles of faith, prayer, repentance, forgiveness, respect, love, compassion, work, and wholesome recreational activities. By divine design, fathers are to preside over their families in love and righteousness and are responsible to provide the necessities of life and protection for their families. Mothers are primarily responsible for the nurture of their children. In these sacred responsibilities, fathers and mothers are obligated to help one another as equal partners. Disability, death, or other circumstances may necessitate individual adaptation. Extended families should lend support when needed.

¶7

WE WARN that individuals ... who abuse spouse or offspring, or who fail to fulfill family responsibilities will one day stand accountable before God. Further, we warn that the disintegration of the family will bring upon individuals, communities, and nations the calamities foretold by ancient and modern prophets. ¶8

What an inspired document this is! Yes, individual adaptation is sometimes unavoidable. As a non-traditional family, we have to look at ourselves and say, “This is the way things are and we will do the best we can with what we have. HOWEVER! this is not the way it is SUPPOSED to be.” 

The world’s loud clamoring sends a very different, very persistent, very repetitive, and very destructive message. Even supposedly wholesome family entertainment that demonstrates two-parent households portrays those parents as bumbling idiots not worthy of respect. Shows that portray loving parents with respectful children are derided as corny, schmaltzy and unrealistic. It seems that it is more important to be witty and ironic than it is to be kind and unselfish.

May we make a conscientious effort to block out and reject the world’s clamoring and Satan’s none-too-subtle attack on the home and family. 

This past year and a half, our home has had a very fluid and chaotic structure as our household went from being myself and four minor children to being myself, four minor children, my married daughter’s family of four, two extra grandchildren, a returned missionary, a returned 19yo and his buddy, two dogs, four guinea pigs, a rat, a toad, a gecko and a tank of fish. As we struggled to adjust a multi-generational, multi-family household, my 19yo encouraged me to remind myself with a chant. Whose house? MY house! 

Let’s take back our homes and our families with this protective attitude. Whose house? MY house. Practice saying it on the way home today. It’s fun!

Let us make our homes havens where “Successful marriages and families are established and maintained on principles of faith, prayer, repentance, forgiveness, respect, love, compassion, work, and wholesome recreational activities.”

The Proclamation concludes with these words: WE CALL UPON responsible citizens and officers of gov- ernment everywhere to promote those measures designed to maintain and strengthen the family as the fundamental unit of society.

Let us be as Joshua when he issued the challenge “Choose you this day whom ye will serve; but (say it with me) as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord."

Free Play Friday: Another Poem About Family

This poem was written for a Poem-a-Day Chapbook Challenge. The prompt was to write a Love poem. The inspiration was a beautiful, intelligent 8th grade student I had who became a mother during Christmas vacation. Of course, names have been changed. This, and other poems can be enjoyed at www.virtualpoetryreading.com

Monica Says

Monica says, “My parents don’t trust me.

They say I don’t know what love is.

I’m too young to know. 

They’re just too old to remember.”

No Monica.

They remember all too well the pain

Of being fooled by love’s counterfeit.

They want to spare you that pain.

When you are thirteen,

Love is beautiful,

Airbrushed, glossy

and slick.

Just like the cover of a magazine.

It feels real, but it’s make believe.

So they tell you 

“You don’t know what love is”

as they kiss the seven of you good night.

Kiss each other

And hurry to catch two different buses

to make the third shift.

"Who Do I Think I Am" Thursday: The Family Curse

My mother believes that there is some sort of family curse that causes the daughters in the family to make imprudent first marriages.

If you know nothing else about Mormons, you know that family is huge--not just in the 15-seater extended van sense. Family bonds are of paramount importance. Family is second only to, and yet inextricably intertwined with, our personal relationship with our Savior Jesus Christ. Knowledge and Family are the only things you can take with you. Anything that can have a divisive effect on the family is an evil to be guarded against at all costs. To have a family with a legacy of divorce in a faith that focuses so strongly on the sacred and eternal nature of marriage and family can be devastating.

When my sister divorced her first husband, she felt judged, misunderstood and cast adrift. She was alone in Detroit with a toddler, and tragically young. My experience was very different. My ward rallied around me. Sisters brought casseroles. Home teachers changed my locks like they did this kind if thing every Sunday after church. My children and I were loved, supported and protected throughout the ordeal--and we continue to be. Why this should be the case, I don't know. Maybe that's a subject for another post.

My parents marriage was my mother’s second attempt. They celebrated their 45th wedding anniversary one month before my father died. They kissed hello and good bye, got on each other's nerves, fought, and made up and went on. 

My mother made the comment once that she and Dad were staunch friends. As a teenager, I thought that was sad, disappointing, and somehow, anticlimactic. Where was the passion? What the heck do teenagers know? My own marriage had passion--in the form of melodrama. Crisis management was the goal. After my divorce, I began to see the wisdom of the steady warmth of staunch friendship. 

My parents were called as temple workers in the Chicago Temple of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Having that time to travel together and work together  in the temple gave them the opportunity to renew their courtship. It was delightful to see their romance come full circle back to bliss. 

Of the 14 cousins and siblings in my generation, the boys have overwhelmingly better odds at marriage. Jimmy died in infancy and Tim hasn't been married. That gives us an even split six boys and six girls. Only one of the boys has been divorced--my brother George--twice. Only one of the girls has avoided divorce--my cousin Linda.

The curse continues to the next generation. My nieces have bet on the wrong horse, as it were. Not sure about my cousins’ children--I should write a letter once in a while and follow up. My mother has frequently lamented, “if only we could teach our girls to make wise decisions about men.” 

The good news is that most of us seem to get it right the second time around. 

The quest to discover how this family curse started and how it can be broken begins with my maternal grandparents, George and Gladys (Goddard) Carpen. Are those not delightful names for an unhappy couple? They divorced in the latter half of the 1930's. We'll see what I can learn in the weeks to come and how it relates to girls on my dad's side. 

Wecipe Wednesday: Roasted Vegetables

You've probably noticed that the recipes I post tend to be high-carb, high-fat, high-sugar, comfort foods. Well, here's the thing...they call it comfort food for a reason. It makes you feel cozy and warm inside, either because of the actual ingredients, or because of the memories associated with the food. A dear friend taught me how to make these delicious vegetables one summer evening to go with grilled steaks. I have made them as a hearty winter side-dish and as a low-maintenance vegetarian entree. I'm just going to list ingredients, all of which are optional except the olive oil. Quantities are fudge-able. Just eye-ball it.

Roasted Vegetables
Potatoes (Russet, red, whatever ya got--I leave the peel on)
Onions
Carrots
Sweet potatoes
Onion soup mix
or Beef or chicken or vegetable bouillon powder
Montreal steak seasoning
or Salt and pepper
Olive oil
Heat oven to 425. Cut the vegetables into bite-size chunks and toss them into a roasting pan. I have a big family so I use my turkey roaster. Drizzle with olive oil. Stir to coat. Sprinkle with seasonings. Stir to coat. Roast it in the oven, Stir it every 15 minutes or so until vegetable are tender and potatoes have a nice golden brown glow. Time depends on how much you're cooking. I will sometimes throw a beef roast on top of the vegetables and cook it low and slow at 325 for 2 hours. Don't sweat it, it's just vegetables.

Newbie Tuesday: Keeping Stuff Straight

Those who know me in real life are probably going to roll on the floor laughing when they read this...Ya gotta keep your materials organized (yes, I said the O word--you can stop laughing now).

You can get all fancy with color-coded folders and binders. I prefer the KISS method (Keep It Simple, Sweetie). Any organizational method that gets too fussy will trigger paralytic perfectionism.

I have an accordion file that closes with Velcro. I started with four (cheap) manila file folders--one for each grandparent with the surname scrawled in big Sharpie marker across the cover. Any copies, scraps of paper, sticky notes, or charts went into the folder. This worked fine for a while. You may want to start here. When I found that I was flipping through too many pages to find what I needed, I amped up system.

The next step was a (cheap manila) file folder for each married couple in my direct line. I label the tab like this:

MITCHELL, Norman Wilfred (1898-1972)

SUTTER, Margaret Ann (1900-1976)

On the inside cover of each folder, I list information that is missing for that family group.

Wedding date

Wedding place

Aunt Valerie's middle name

Aunt Irene's death date

Even though I'm the world's biggest "put-it-here-for-now" culprit, this system is simple enough to keep all the notebook pages and photocopies and pictures and scraps and charts and research logs and sticky notes where they belong. 

FHE: What Max is Taking Away

 Child Number 5 graduated from high school last Sunday. This was a last minute development. We weren't sure until Thursday he would be able to participate in the Commencement Activities. Then he did not notify the Grandparents.

Just before the big event, Max was modeling his cap and gown. I asked him, now that he was on the threshold of grown-up-hood, what he felt he had learned from me. He said that he'd learned to think for himself and not to blindly accept what others were cramming down his throat.

Consider, if you will, free agency, the ability to think and choose and act for ourselves, is of such vital importance, it was the central issue in an attempted coup d'etat in Heaven! If that's the lesson my child is taking away from me, than I think I've done all right.

It was  a compliment and a relief, because my daily parenting prayer is, "Dear Lord, please don't let me screw this up!"

What lessons did you take away from growing up with your parents?