Saturday, February 26, 2011

What Do You Do With the Mad That You Feel? Mysteries.

Ah, Mr. Rogers.  There was a lyricist.

I absolutely love the show, "Who Do You Think You Are?"  I love learning more about my heritage and ancestry, and genetics has always fascinated me.   I realize the show is really a great advertisement for the website, but I also like watching how the stars chosen for the episodes find out about who they are, and who they were.  All families have mysteries, and it's neat seeing mysteries solved.  For example, in our family, in one census a young woman is the maid of the house, working for one of my great-great grandfathers.  In the next census, 10 years later, this young woman is now married to my great-great grandfather, and they have a child together.  Hmmm....  What happened there?  Hmmm....  I don't know if the wife died or if there was hanky panky going on and she took off.  The census is great, but it only has some information.  It doesn't go into a lot of details.  My cousin, K, does a lot of genealogy, too, and she found a copy of a Bible page that has my great grandfather's birth and baptism in it.  What's interesting to me is that there was a sister, too, named Cora, who would have been older than my great grandpa.  She must have died, but my mother didn't know about Cora, and said that great grandpa never mentioned having a sister.


We are direct descendants of Jonathan Boone, who was a brother of Daniel Boone.  At one time, Jonathan Boone was willed 3 slaves by his first wife's father.  I have always wondered what happened to those slaves. Mysteries.  Jonathan moved around a lot, was married 3 times, at least, and had one legitimate daughter, Dinah, who married a man named Zachariah Boone Allen.  Zachariah fought in the Indian Wars and in the Revolutionary War, and though there is proof of that, poor Dinah was turned down for his War Pension.  Some of Zachariah and Dinah's progeny were amazing shots and hunters.  I can say that I did not inherit the good shot gene, as I cannot hit the broad side of a barn, but knowing that my ancestors were well known for their shooting abilities fascinates me.

At one time I started to write a lot of this out, knowing that one of my nephews and one of my deceased cousin's sons felt disconnected from the family, and I thought knowing more about where they came from might be comforting, but then my computer went down, and I got this autoimmune disorder going on, and I never finished it.  I have a notebook filled with information, and I have a lot of stuff saved on Evernote.  If any one of my siblings or nieces/nephews, whoever, wanted to know anything, feel free to ask.   I might not know the answers, but I might be able to find out what you need to know.

The one thing I can't find is a copy of the marriage certificate of my mom's mother and her first husband, my mom and aunt's father.  And I can't find a death certificate for my mother's grandmother's dad, who died young.  Part of the problem is that I'm not sure of his name. It might be Joel, and it might be Willis. Or both. And his last name is spelled different ways.  Sometimes it's Clark.  Sometimes it's Clarke.  For all I know his name was really Patrick Wannamaker.


In more recent news, Saige is still recovering, but her throat pain is still really bad.  The other day she was so hungry she thought perhaps she could eat some chicken nuggets, if she pulled off the outside breading and ate slowly.  Well, one little piece of chicken got caught in the hole left by the tonsil removal, and poor Saige was panicked and in pain, as she worked to get that piece out.  Poor kid!  It gets tiresome eating soup and popsicles.  She can eat mashed potatoes, so that's good, but she does get tired of them, too.  We've tried Mac and Cheese, and even that is hard to swallow for her. And of course, she's hungry for real food!

Our cat, Teo, is still alive.  He eats well, and if you just look at his bright eyes, you'd be hard-pressed to understand how sick he really is.  Teo wants to get up and move around, and he can barely put any weight on his legs.  We're still putting hot packs and medications on his legs, and here Saige is washing him off with some hot water and antibacterial soap.  She also cut a lot of the fur away from the sores he has, and from his bottom.  Poor Teo has a hard time using a litter box, and Saige wanted to make sure that he stayed as clean as possible in case he couldn't get to the box or we didn't help him there in time.  (He is in too much pain to use it most of the time.)

Yesterday we'd all left for awhile, and Teo was on a blanket in front of the heater.  When we got home an hour or two later, Teo was up on the couch.  We don't know if he did it himself, or if, perhaps, BDG picked Teo up in his mouth and moved him.  BDG has been known to tote kittens around, so it is possible.  We simply don't know.


Macrame got some paint a few weeks ago, to use to paint our stairs.  Someone put it on a bench in the dining room, but the lid wasn't secure.  I moved the bench in order to sweep, and I didn't see the paint can until it fell, hit the floor, and paint went everywhere.

It's not hard to clean it up, but it is a lot for me to deal with.  

Especially because people walked through the wet paint.  (We'd covered the spill, but somehow, the paint seemed to be everywhere)

Including here:

BDG was in the living room when the paint spilled, so how he got some on the top of his head and neck, we will never know.  


Luckily, the paint comes up with a little bit of cleaner and some elbow grease, so it won't be too hard to clean.  It's just that I'm so tired of things like that happening to me.  

The day before yesterday, we had a winter storm advisory, and in the morning, there were several inches of wet snow on the ground.  The wind blew so hard that the snow was slammed into the sides of trees and buildings, too, as it fell.  

Hopefully, though, the snowstorms are about done, and spring will come soon.  In the last blizzard, around the first of the month, Saige and I saw a robin, and I felt so sorry for her.  We'd had some springlike weather, which confused some of the animals and plants, and then we were hit with a late winter snowstorm.  I haven't seen any robins since then, though I have seen a decapitated bird head on my front porch. (Thanks, Kitty Dos)

My birthday is tomorrow.  

I have one card that came in, from my sister, Emmy.  Thanks, sweetness!  I know there are others coming in, but it kind of stinks to have my birthday on a Sunday this year.

Erma is home.  She got in very, very late last night.  She and her husband, Ambrose, stopped by a little after midnight, and I was so glad to see her.  I have missed her like crazy, and though the circumstances that led to her discharge are bad,  I am glad she's back. I know Ambrose is happy, too!   She looks good, though she is limping, thanks to the fractures the Army failed to find when they happened.

So, yesterday, my Zune stopped working.  I'd been using it in the morning, and then somehow, it broke.  Gave up the ghost.  Went completely black and would not turn on.  The computer didn't recognize it.  The Zune, my friend, was dead.  I looked in my red file box that contains everything important, from car titles to Social Security paperwork to warranties.  I found the little folder that held the Zune information for Best Buy, but the receipt was not there.  I called Best Buy, and they had all the information available, so later in the day, I took the dead Zune up there.  Well, they looked things up and checked out the dead Zune, and then, Tim, the Geek Squad guy that was helping me, said, "I have good news and bad news."  Basically, my Zune was irreparable, but since I had the warranty on it, I could swap it out, then and there.  Unfortunately, there were no 16gig HD Zunes available, only the 32gig.  For 30 dollars more.  So, I could either swap it out for a bigger, better Zune and pay the 30 dollar difference, or I could wait, who knows how long, for a replacement Zune.

I called Ambrose, and he loaned me the 30 bucks so I could get my new Zune.

You see, I depend on the Zune.  The music helps when I'm in pain.  The shows and movies and podcasts I listen to and watch help take me away from all, well, this.  

My old Zune, Zuney, is now gone.  The new Zune, Zuney, is now here.  The Zune is dead, long live the Zune!

Sometimes I misplace the Zune, and I'll walk around, sadly, calling out, "Zuney!  Zuney where are you?  Zuney!"  Mr. Clean will bust up laughing.  I like to pretend the Zune is real, so when I find it, I will say stuff like, "There you are!  Why were you hiding from me??"  (Hey, I have no life, and I love to make people laugh.  So I will play this whole thing up as long as it lasts.)

The new Zune is now being charged.  I put quite a few of my songs on it yesterday, but it's going to take awhile to get them all transfered over. 

I don't care, though.  I have my music, and I am happy with that.

Go in peace, be warm and filled.

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