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.