Something Pithy Here

"Begin at the beginning, and go on till you come to the end: then stop." -- The King of Hearts

I'm an adopted Texan. As they say, "I wasn't born in Texas, but I got here as fast as I could!" I post pictures and opinions as suits my mood, mostly because I can. Hooray Internet! 

So far I have three blogs here. By the Way is the oldest. I started it in 2003. I lost a couple of years to Vox because I was too lazy to bother to export when they shut down. I consider it an exercise in accepting impermanence. When I followed my husband to Singapore for his first expat assignment, I started (T)expatriate: A Southern Girl in Singapore. That covers 2010 and 2011, give or take. Next came Oslo, and (T)expat 2: Norwegian Boogaloo,  in 2012. Now I'm back home, and back on By the Way.

Pix live on Flickr. I toss links out on Twitter when I feel like it. I'm still not sure what to do with G+ but I kinda like it.

 

Archives

We watched a documentary about Jesse Jones last night. It's amazing how much American history I don't know. This guy was simply a powerhouse. Anyhow, at one point in the show a great-niece is visiting some kind of archive-type warehouse to get a look at a conference table that Mr. Jones had built during the Roosevelt administration. And sure enough, it looks just like the warehouse in that scene at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark where they store away the generic-looking crate on a shelf along with jillions of other generic-looking crates. So where is this place, for real? And how much COOL STUFF must be in there?

I'm finding that it's pretty easy to get sucked away into the past, especially if you're a Person Who Likes Stuff. I now have a drawerful of Family Stuff and I'm sure Mr. Man is tired of hearing me call it "treasure" and "pure gold" every time I bring it out. But that's how I feel about it. I can spend hours reading yellowed letters, admiring glamorous black-and-white photographs, deciphering great-somebody-or-other's ahnentafel chart written in pencil on ledger paper.... All of this Stuff is full of stories that belong to me. My family. I always thought of my family as small, but you only have to go back a little ways to suddenly have a stupendous number of relations! And then there's the time I spend surfing WWII websites, cemetery records in Indiana, photo archives of the LOC or NARA, searching for little bits and pieces that make the stories there belong to me, by virtue of having some relevance to an ancestor. Virtual Stuff isn't quite as satisfying as Real Stuff, of course, but it still counts.

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