Joyous Tomorrows

When I first began my genealogy blog Branching Out Through The Years , my purpose was to preserve the memories of my husband known on the blog as "The Hero"for our grandchildren.  He really wanted to know them and wanted them to know him.  His choice was taken from him by cancer. The Hero and I with oldest daughter's first son. After that, I decided to write the stories of my associations with my relatives, aunts, uncles, grandparents for my children and grandchildren because for the most part they never met or really knew any of them.  This grew to posts about ancestors I wanted to know about and sharing findings with those who were also interested. When I started on my mother-in-law's family, it was very exciting for her.  She shared her personal stories.  Many times I sat on the floor at her feet and wrote down as she told me.  My sister-in-law also had her write down her personal history so now we have it in her writing.  There is som...

Not only is this a hard prompt, it is being addressed late. Oh, my. Without a doubt, my biggest mistake in life was in a sequence. I never took to time to learn to organize my household.  I let circumstances rule me, not the other way around. Don't get me wrong, I love organization. When I was a work, everything was in its place and there was a place for everything.  Of course, I kept things simple. At home, oh my, a totally different story.  I did have things kind of organized, if you call a place for cloth in boxes, and crates for piles of papers (yes, if you are a genealogy friend, I am a pile organizer). There were book shelves, and when the books were on the shelves they were organized to subjects. The big problem was I spent more time going out and helping people, spending time doing things with my children, and helping my husband, as well as working, than I did on keeping a clean organized house.  This was a big mistake. My husband would have...

My Halloween Ghost, True Story.  J Once there was a ghost who lived in a house in Edmond, Oklahoma.   The little girl there saw him in her closet. A dark headed man who just hung around her room. At night she was careful to cover her head so just her nose stuck out.  He couldn’t touch her then.  This was because one night, she woke up and something was holding her hand.  Weird.  She knew he meant her no harm so she just kept an eye out for him.                 She knew when he was around because she felt ... someone watching her. When she had grown up and went away to college, her parents found her portrait off the wall, sitting on the floor facing the wall.  She was missed, or he was ticked she had left. The house is gone, a big warehouse sits there now, wonder where the ghost went, if he found peace. The legend was,  he was a man found who had hung himself in the chicken house...