Family weekend

I managed to get Stephen up here for my last free weekend in New York. It's a shame, the poor git finally moves to the East Coast (just a four hour Chinatown bus ride away) and I "bugger off to England".

Adam snapped this picture of us at the top of the five flights of stairs to my apartment. Stephen wasn't such a fan of those. We had a pretty relaxed weekend, no rushing to see all the tourist sights, which we covered the last time he visited six (!) years ago.

Sunday we ate our last dinner with Dave and Adam & Lexia. We've been talking about making Poule au Pot, a 16th century French chicken dinner, for Adam our French literature fanatic, so it was now or never. It's good solid "peasant food" and the results were delicious and more than filling.

Saturday afternoon I traded stories of our family heroes and villains with my long lost cousin Cynthia Lovewell. Cynthia’s great-grandmother Elizabeth and my great-great-grandfather John were brother and sister. We’re part of the Ducie clan and there aren’t too many of us [link to Ducies make money not babies] so I was really excited to make contact with someone from this part of my family. The Ducies came from Ireland, via Birmingham, but they split up once they got to America with John settling in Montana and Elizabeth Ducie and husband Charles Chadwick making their own way to San Francisco. We swapped photographs and I got to tell her all about Mrs Ducey's saloon.

Cynthia and her husband John were terrific. Just what I would imagine a couple from California would be like: relaxed, friendly, youthful. They're coming to London in the fall so we have plans to meet up again. Maybe a trip to greater Birmingham is in the offing, how exciting does that sound? And we have a open invitiation to their beautiful big cabin at Lake Tahoe. It was a wonderful afternoon and nice that Stephen was in town. They got two Bovee/Ducies for the price of one!

New Doctor Who = Ahh-MAZING

I ate Blackhound three-layer chocolate mouse cake for breakfast. I'm out of weetabix, and, well, it needed finishing up. I think maybe salad for lunch today. And for dinner.

Dave and I played a for old time sake game of US Ticket to Ride last night before I switch my allegiance to euro rails. I started strong, but had to rethink some routes after he blocked me between San Francisco and Los Angeles. As the game was nearing the final round, I had completed 5 middle value routes worth 51 points. That’s respectable. With all routes in hand completed the usually course of action (assuming you have a few left over trains and a colour cards) is to grab one last set of 3 route cards in the hopes that with so many train segments already on the board you may with the addition of just a couple trains be able to complete an extra route and pick up a few extra points that might clinch you the game. I had just two trains to spare and one card in hand, but I couldn’t be sure I had Dave beat, so I decided to risk it and grabbed three cards.

My worthy opponent

To my astonishment, I could complete two of them (both high value routes) with the addition of just one train piece between Seattle and Vancouver. And the third route I already had. I took an extra 49 points in two turns! When we counted up at the end Dave came in at 146, normally a winning score. But I was sitting on 68, and with 49 + 51 points, that was a round 100, which meant, with the scoring marks round the outside of the board running only 1-100, I had done a whole other lap and my marker stayed put. We had planned to play a second round, but this was the game to end on. A stunning victory for yours truly!

Watching Dexter (series 2). Such a guilty pleasure.

Century old mystery even more solved

Two months ago I declared a century old mystery solved. Well it turns out there's more to the story.

Having found the marriage of my grandmother's cousin Edith Ward (whose father had run off to Canada under an assumed name with his son-in-law's sister), I ordered up the microfilm with births and baptisms for Montreal. I found Edith and her two sons, which actually pointed me back to some online records which I had already searched with no results. Turns out the indexing doesn't include first names, so now I had the church they used from the microfilm, I pulled up all the Ward records for Grace Anglican Church of Montreal.

I found the burial of my auntie Flora May and the full register entry for Edith's baptism. And as there were only 30-odd records for the period in question, I had a peek at all of them. Working my way back from 1940 (the last record available online) to 1909 when my great-great grandfather Arthur Woodcroft now known as Albert Ward arrived in Montreal, I was looking for a marriage for Albert and May, but I found something else. The burial on 27 Aug 1910 of a little girl named Isabel, parents: Albert Arthur and Flora May Ward. Her birth date was noted as 27 Feb 1910, four months after Albert arrived in Canada. So here was a part of the story I wasn't even looking for. Arthur and May had left England because there was a child on the way. They weren't fleeing scandal - May's sisters all had children out of or very shortly after wedlock - I'm inclined to think they really wanted a family together. Arthur had left behind a unhappy marriage, but May's family was a happy and tight-knit bunch. She could easily have returned to them after the loss of Isabel, but she didn't. She stayed with Albert and they had another daughter seven years later.

It was an exciting find, but the best bit was telling Mum what I had discovered. There are still a few things left to wrap up - Albert's death, May's ship's passenger list - but more importantly, with the baptisms of Edith's two sons I now have their full names. They are my parents age so most likely living, and I found two iterations of each name in the Canadian phone directory. I've been practicing a little speech. I'm not a huge fan of genealogy cold calling, but I hope the accent and little bit of much-rehearsed charm will keep them on the phone long enough for me to establish if there is a connection. The rewards could be big: fingers are crossed for a (otherwise non-existent) picture of my great-great grandfather, and of course the last few details of a story that has intrigued my family for a century. Wish me luck!

It's official

I have given notice at my job and am moving back to England. I've been obsessed with genealogy for nearly six years now and it's time to go learn more and do it full time. England is the best place to be for that and I've dreamed of going home ever since the day I arrived here in New York. I'll be staying in the city through April, then dropping all my stuff off with my sister in Atlanta - she'll mind it in case I decide to come back - and then heading to England. It's strange to be leaving New York, but I've been thinking about it seriously for the last few months and now is the right time. Even my Dad agrees, and he's put the stops on some crazy ideas I've had over the years - like spending several months in Wisconsin in the winter!? - so it must be a good idea. I've always missed England and I can't wait to get there.

I can't wait to live in a flat with it's own washing machine again! I hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate going to the laundromat. Six flights of stairs and I have to pass the posh sushi place looking like a bag lady. Sit in the cold waiting area. Can never concentrate on my book.

Back in the day, when Lauren lived with Lexia I used to accompany her to the very same laundromat. I remember watching (rather appropriately) the diving and swimming competitions at the Athens Olympics. So some happy memories.

But now I hate, hate, hate, hate, hate it!

Who Do You Think You Are? - US

I've just watched the first two episodes of the US version of WDYTYA. I was afraid they'd make a horrible mess of what in England is a perfect show. I feared excessive sentimentality and oppressive voiceover. But I was pleasantly surprised. There is very little voiceover, and I liked that most of it is done by the celebrities themselves. I thought they got the tone pretty right as well. My only grumble is the coming up next highlights and the recap that sandwich the commercial breaks. It's such a terrible waste of time and meant that they only had time to cover one side of person's family. It also meant it's impossible to get the element of mystery and anticipation that works so well in the English version. "Coming up later in the program..." No, I'm sorry that just doesn't fly. As far as the stories themselves, Emmitt Smith's tale of mixed race slave ancestors is something I've seen already in Ainsley Harriott's UK episode. But Sarah Jessica Parker's Salem witch trials connection was truly fascinating.

I've also been able to watch three episodes online of Prof Henry Louis Gates Jr.'s series for PBS, Faces of America. I've heard some grumbling about this show, that is has a strong message of America's intolerance towards immigrants and that Gates himself is too prominent. I decided to give it a shot anyway, and enjoyed it. Instead of focusing on one person's lineage at a time, the four programmes each have an overall theme and incorporate elements of the 12 participants family histories. I really liked his attempt to tell their stories in the wider context of the building this extraordinary nation, however flawed.

Jonathan was academic bowl team captain for one round this weekend. They trounced the other side by 70 points. Next stop University Challenge!

Tombstone Tuesday

Apparently on Tuesday's genealogy bloggers like to post about tombstones. You supposed to upload a picture of a gravestone and tell it's story. I'll give it a try.

This is the gravestone for Truman Bovee, my great-grandfather George Bovee's youngest brother who died in a tragic accident.

Now let's be honest, this thing is hideous! But it's undeniably eye-catching. I went to the cemetery in Fairchild, WI in December and as you can see it was blanketed in at least a foot of snow. Any row markers were covered and I had started to despair that I would find anything.

And then I spotted this monstrosity. I couldn't help but look at it and to my delight I saw the name Bovee. Below the name is a short poem that touchingly expresses the awful pain his family must have felt at his loss. To the left I found the graves of his parents, both buried in the snow. I dug them out with the ice scraper from my rental car. And to the right was a tiny little grave marker for Hiram Cornell Bovee, George Bovee's little son who died just days after birth.

My great-great grandparents, a lost son and a lost grandson. I don't think cemeteries are by nature grim and mournful places. I like to think of myself as being not among the dead but among the living, for their lives feel very real to me and I know they're not truly gone. But in this place it was hard not to feel sorry and a little sad.

Look at that face!

Mad Men

BBC is showing Mad Men Series 3. This is the best thing on telly in the US, but we don't have it at my apartment so I missed the last series. This means I don't have to wait 6 months for it come out on DVD. Or buy it from iTunes. I can watch it for free on iPlayer. Which I paid for. Whatever. Bravo BBC!!

Century old mystery solved

I hold in my hand the smoking gun! Actually it’s a printout of a marriage at the Montreal Salvation Army 1936, so a metaphorical, genealogical smoking gun. But no less exciting.

My 2x great-grandfather Arthur Woodcroft disappeared. He was in Luton in 1906 when his daughter Beatrice married Thomas Dellar, but by the 1911 census he is gone. The story that has come down through the family is that he legged it to Canada with his new son-in-law’s sister, Flora May Dellar. Think about it...that would be pretty scandalous even now. According to her niece, Auntie May was a tall, attractive and vivacious woman, one of the renowned, or rather notorious, Dellar sisters of High Town (more on them later). May is pictured below (center) as a bridesmaid at the wedding of her elder sister.

The other half of the story is that a woman name Edith Summerton showed up in the fifties claiming to be Arthur and May’s daughter. Visiting from Montreal, she said she wanted to get to know her family. She visited England once or twice and then lost touch again. What exactly became of Arthur and May has remained a mystery and Auntie Madge has repeatedly expressed a desire to learn the truth before she passes on. Mum has been searching for Arthur for 40 years, and in the last few years I too have joined the hunt. We want to do right by Auntie Madge, and of course, solve the mystery. Mum mentions Arthur all the time, and I’ve tried several searches but always came up empty handed. Until yesterday that is.

I had a hunch in the bath (such a great place to think) that I needed to look again, this time for Edith’s husband, Nelson Summerton. New records come online every day, and up popped my marriage record, on the 6th of May, 1936 at the Montreal Salvation Army, a Nelson Summerton married Edith Marion Dellar Ward, daughter of Albert Ward and Flora May Ward. Edith Marion Dellar W. and Flora May W. are a dead give away. Albert Ward is a pseudonym (same initials as Arthur Woodcroft), no wonder we couldn’t find him, the crafty so and so.

We had figured he must have travelled to Canada under an assumed name, and as soon as I put this new name into a search of ship’s passengers I came up with Albert Ward, 45 year old straw hat manufacturer (the ubiquitous Luton profession), who sailed on the Corinthian for Montreal in Nov 1909. May must have followed on shortly after as she is living with him as his “wife” on the Canadian census for 1911.

So the stories were true, and Edith Summerton was, as she claimed, Madge’s cousin. Of course there’s more to find. Did Arthur/Albert and May actually marry (making Arthur officially a bigamist, not just a bit of a scoundrel)? Were/are there more Canadian cousins? And why did he choose the pseudonym Ward? Beatrice Woodcroft's daughter Doris Dellar, my grandmother, became a Ward when she married; it’s my mother’s maiden name. But Doris wasn’t even born when Arthur and May ran off together. It’s just a funny little coincidence. Right?

It's finally here. I just downloaded the free ancestry.com genealogy ap for my iPhone. Now I can access all my family tree info anytime. This is glorious.

White Christmas

Dallas's first white Christmas since 1926 and only Genevieve's second Christmas in the United States. I thought it awfully nice of Dallas to put on a festive display for me.

Family Not at Home Evening

There are many times of year when it feels like New York is at it's best. But December is special, with, as the song says, "City sidewalks, busy sidewalks, dressed in holiday style, In the air there's a feeling of Christmas." It seems a shame not to make the most of it, so on my first night back in the city, my friend John and I ventured out to enjoy the Christmas lights.

First stop, Rockerfeller City to see the tree and the angels,

and the snowflakes on Saks Fifth Avenue.


I love the blue tree lights at Columbus Circle

and the grand Christmas stars indoors.

And of course we went to Macy's on 34th Street. We didn't go up to visit Santa, but I'm sure he's the real one!

This year's windows celebrated writing letters to Santa. I don't remember if I ever sent a letter to the North Pole, but many years I got just what I wanted, so somehow he knew. Clever ole Santa!

Happy Christmas everyone!

I picked up a new book at the airport on the way to Jerusalem (the story of an old house on Bankside in London), and found a passage that beautifully conveyed my own feelings about searching out people's histories.

"The vast mass of men and women in every time do not leave behind them either renown or testimony. These people walked our streets, prayed in our churches, drank in our inns, built and lived in the houses where we have our being today, opened our front doors, looked out our windows, called to each other down our staircases. They were moved by essentially the same passions and griefs that we are, the same bedrock hopes and fears...

Witness to the living, busy, complex beings that many of these vanished ones were tends to be limited to fleeting references on pages of reference books that are seldom opened. Scant evidence, you may say, of lives as vivid and as important to the bearers as our own are today to us. But by putting these scraps together, sometimes, with luck, something more coherent is achieved. Pieces of lost lives are genuinely recovered. Here and there a few individual figures detach themselves from the dark and silence to which time has consigned them. They walk slowly towards us. Eventually, we may even see their faces." **

I went back to Bedford County Record Office yesterday to read the minute books from the Luton Poor Law Union. Huge registers where the Clerk recorded the day to day happenings at the workhouse and the maintenance of poor families in the area. The references to my family members indeed are fleeting, but I got a glimpse into some of my ancestors lives, sadly because it's the workhouse records, at some of the most distressing times in their lives.

Annie Maria Ward (my 2x great grandmother) admitted herself to the workhouse on the 28th of May 1917. She was 73 and for the aged and destitute the workhouse often served as a last stop. It says she was a Wesleyan, a former washerwoman, and the widow of James Ward, a well sinker. Annie lived four years in the workhouse and died on 15 May 1921 at 06.30. I've been told that hearts often fail in the morning when heart rates are low, and when I checked her death certificate it gave cause of death as cardiac disease. What a long, hard life she must have lived.

My 4x great grandfather John Woodcroft was born in the picturesque village of Whipsnade, but we found him as an adult living in nearby Kensworth. The Minutes record an examination - an inquiry into which parish should foor the bill for his poor relief - of John in 1855 and note he was legally settled in Whipsnade but had been living in Kensworth since Christmas last. What necessitated the uprooting of his family in the dead of winter? It notes that he had become chargeable - on the dole - because of his wife's sickness. I smiled to myself - poor John always had a sick wife. He worked his way through four in just 30 years. They just kept dying on him. Much sorrow for one person to endure.

My many times great uncle Thomas Osborn applied to the Board of the Luton Poor Law Union for the sum of 4 pounds 10 shillings to emigrate with his wife and seven children to Australia. I sympathise with his desire to start a new life half way across the world, and I admire his gumption for asking for the cash to do it.

The last story I followed in the records was that of my 3x great grandmother Mary Ann Rayner. We saw on the 1881 census that she was blind in later life, but I learned this was a condition she had all her life. Her eyes were examined at the behest of the Board in April 1853 to "determine if the girl's sight might be improved by undergoing an operation." Two weeks later they wrote to a London eye hospital inquiring if she could be admitted - in a moment of foresight they kindly noted the full name and address of the hospital in the Minutes. At this point I was getting anxious... would they make the investment and send her after all? On 13th of May her District Officer was instructed to take Mary Ann to the Central London Opthalmic Hospital. I was hopeful, but sadly the last entry two weeks late noted that the hospital had written reporting that "nothing could be done for Mary Ann Rayner and requesting that she might be removed." The trip to London was a dead end for Mary Ann, but it gave me a new avenue of inquiry. I shall contact the hospital (still treating eyes to this day) to see if their records survive. There may yet be more fragments of Mary Ann's story to piece together.

**from The House By The Thames by Gillian Tindall

Griff Rhys Jones is my hero. Along with William Tyndale, Ralph Nader, and whoever thought of putting peanut butter in M&Ms.

Jerusalem

The flight over was a laugh. I was in a middle seat with my new pals Ofer and Andrew on either side. Ofer headed off home to Beesheba but I rode on to Jerusalem with Andrew and friends who were on their way to a conference for the week. They were staying in the new town so we grabbed dinner and then I made my way down to my digs in the Old City. First view of the city walls at Jaffa Gate was pretty impressive.

In fact the best way to see Jerusalem is from the walls - you can walk the entire length except along the Temple Mount - and I’m surprised there weren’t more people, I had them practically to myself. First morning I walked along the southern walls, with views of the Armenian and Jewish Quarters, and Mount Zion.

You know how much I love cemeteries (professional hazard). And cypress trees.

In the afternoon I walked along the Via Dolorosa to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. I’ve been in a lot of magnificent churches but this one is something else. It looks so unassuming from the outside, squeezed into that little square, but once you’re through the door it’s a strange world.

Morning two I went to the Temple Mount. How strange to stand in a place you’ve heard so much about, that’s the source of so much controversy and conflict, and experience a calm and quiet morning. Dare I say it, but my impression was of how peaceful it was.

You can never have too many artistic shots of palm trees.

Well it’s the best I can do for artistic!

And so after a day and a half I’d seen pretty much everything, got lonely and fed up, changed my flight and buzzed off home early. Traveling on your own is pretty rubbish really. Jonathan needs to come from Atlanta - I miss my favourite little (sorry, medium-sized) traveling companion.

2 days in

Still miss Lucy and co here in England, but no use moping. I've been getting on with some research. Yesterday made my first visit to the UK National Archives. Got my red reader's ticket and ordered up some documents. One volume was a giant crumbling register book for soldiers mustered into (right phrase?) the British army in the 1860s for the India campaigns. They gave me quite gloves to wear, I felt like a proper researcher. And I'm pretty sure I was the second youngest person there.

Today I went to the Bedfordshire archives looking for something that might tell me about my 3x gt grandmother Kitty Osborn, mother of seven fatherless children. Quite an accomplishment for the 1840s. I only made it through a fraction of what's available. I need another day for sure. I'm on the hunt and it's really exciting!

Tomorrow is a leisure day and then on Sunday I'm off to Israel for four days. I've been studying up: guide books, maps, Matthew, Mark and John.

It feels awfully strange being in England and Lucy and the kids aren't here. I miss them terribly.

I discovered I make a pretty lousy New York tour guide. Perhaps I fail to appreciate some of the things that a city like New York has to offer, but really the reason I came here is the people, not the place itself. And I met someone terrific this week, ironically not an American, but a Brit. Would probably never have got to know him in England, we both had to be thousands of miles from home. It's funny how that works.

I suppose being here has really made me appreciate home even more. I'm leaving for England on Tuesday and I'm so excited just to be there. I don't care if the plumbing is a bit naff and the train to London costs $51. Alright I do care, but it'll be worth it. I'm excited to do some family history research with my Mum. That's another thing I have to thank New York for. Despite growing up with Mum's great interest in our family background, it never really clicked for me until I got here. Now I'm dying to spend some time with her going over censuses and old parish records and just sharing our passion for it all.

I have a long list of things to research while I'm there, so family if you're reading this - and you should be! - watch this space for news. And of course pictures from Jerusalem. None of border checkpoints (yeah, hadn't thought about those) as I don't fancy getting shot, but tons of everything else.

Some recent pictures of Andrew

With my auntie

Growing teeth

Looking less like a baby and more like a little boy every day

Tearing around on my dump truck

With my big brother Jonathan

What flavour crisps am I craving today?

Sainsbury's flower shaped prawn cocktail

I was looking closely at the 1910 census for John Ducie because I just read that the 1910 schedules often indicate whether someone was a veteran of the Civil War. And instead discovered that where it states whether someone is married or single, wife Ellen is listed as M1 (first marriage) and John Ducie is M2.

Today was Jonathan's first day on the school bus. He loved it.

All smiles, drool and red hair

New acquisition

Great grandfather Alfred's World War II draft registration card.

Andrew has a rusk moustache.

Bovee Jet Set - the next generation

Two Go to Ireland

I chose Mayo because it’s where some of our family originated. But I knew there would be very little to see (as it turned out, nothing) related to them so I decided I just wanted Jonathan to see that part of Ireland and to get him thinking about his ancestors nation and lifestyle, if not their specific lives and locations. Our trip covered some of the remotest parts of Western Europe and we spent much of our time on the Atlantic coast. Lots of crashing waves and gusting winds. And we saw an awful lot of sheep!

Our first bit of fun was the airport, Knock Ireland West Airport. After landing we came to a stop at the end of the runway, we turned around and taxied back up the runway to the terminal. As we pulled into the two-airplane-sized parking area, we watched the other airplane do a 180 degree on the spot and just as we got off our aircraft the other plane came roaring down the runway for take-off just feet from us. Jonathan and I agreed this was the coolest airport we’d ever been to!

I shalln’t write an exhaustive account of our holiday, but just give the highlights. These were Jonathan’s favourite parts of the trip:

1. Downpatrick Head
A sea stack broken away from Mayo’s northern coast. We had a bit of a bumpy drive to get there (never take a wrong turning in rural Ireland unless you have powerful shock absorbers). The coast is riddled with caves and as we walked up to the edge to see the stack we passed several spots where the caves have collapsed and the spray from the crashing waves blows up through the aperture.

2. Lighthouse and seashore
Jonathan has never been to a lighthouse and that was his only must-see. So I drove him to the tip of the Belmullet Peninsula to see the Blacksod Point lighthouse. Jonathan was intrigued by a snall plaque on the wall (just visible on the wall) that commerated a weather forecast the lighthouse sent for D-Day in 1944. We then walked down onto the beach where we collected seashells and Jonathan played cat and mouse with the waves, games we repeated up the road at Elly Bay, at Achill and at Roonagh Pier.

3. Croagh Patrick

The holy mountain where Saint Patrick fasted for 40 days and nights in the seventh century. The mountain is 765 meters high and we made it to about 100 meters, a decent victory for a 9-year-old and his auntie who rides the elevator to her third floor apartment. It afforded us a stunning view of Clew Bay and it’s dozens of grassy islands.

4. Museum of Country Life
We stopped at the National Museum of Ireland's branch in Castlebar which describes and displays the traditional lifestyles of rural Ireland. I thought this would be the best way to learn something about our own family, which we did. And Jonathan was delighted with his 8 out of 10 score (later upgraded to 10 of 10) on the quiz on traditional farming techniques - he would have made an "excellent" farmer.

Some other highlights for me were the playground in Newport

and the bleak beauty of the Dooagh pass.
The Mayo landscape features dozens of mountains, many along the coast, and all of them bare of trees and bushes, and covered just in bracken and grass, kept short by the ubiquitous sheep that cling to the steepest of inclines. There were sheep everywhere, in gardens, on cliff tops, on the lakeshore, in the middle of the road...

And lastly, there were the scars on the landscape where the peat turf has been dug. In most places the grass has long since grown over, but the troughs where our forebears cut their fuel are still clearly visible. And it's not just a feature of the past. Most cottages we passed, even the most prosperous looking homes, had stacks of turf drying under tarps in their gardens. An interesting link to the past.

Here is the complete set of photographs.

Finally the 10-day forecast covers my holiday and there's no snow or rain predicted for Mayo and Galway. Hurrah!

I have just found my first Osborn in the Kensworth-Flamstead-Studham-Whipsnade area. Robert Osborn, in Studham, in 1592 or 34 Eliz (the 34th year of the reign of Elizabeth I), four years after the Armada and England still in it's "Golden Age".

I'm studying the village of Kensworth and it's families. Nearly a quarter of my English ancestors are connected with this village (about 5 miles to the west of Luton). I know the family names, but it's not always easy to sift out the people from whom your are directly descended. And there are some interesting characters from this area as well. So I reckon if I want to isolate the ones who are most relevant to me, and to try and piece together their stories, it might be worth taking a look at the whole village and it's history. It's also a bit of an exercise in research and genealogy. And an excuse to spend time in the research library on 42nd street. I have good reasons for that.

So the Osborns (along with the Pyes and Sharps and Philpots and Hollands and Chipperfields and Scriveners and Crawleys and Binghams and Gilbys) are one of my Kensworth families. Robert Osborn may not be a direct ancestor, but he's starting place. Perhaps I'll work my way down to an Osborn I know I'm connected with and perhaps not. It's still exciting!

This picture makes me ridiculously happy every time I look at it....

... which is at least 10 times a day!

And we're back!I

We had our work "holiday" party on Thursday. I was chatting to my colleague and friend Anna Marley who asked if I knew any other Mormons at Mercer. I said no, had never met or heard of any. It turns out this was a nifty coincidence in the making...

A new temple worker walked into the dressing room as I was changing for my shift last night. Upon seeing me, she smiled and introduced herself and asked did I work for Mercer. She said she had seen me at the party the night before. She had recognised me, and at first thought she knew me from work, but then realised she had seen me some months before at her ward doing a training session on the new family history website.

So there we have it... there are at least two Mormons at Mercer! AND we work on the same temple shift.

Another one?!

I got an email to say my hotel reservation in Venice has been switched to their sister hotel in Santa Croce because my hotel will be "under rennovation" while we're there. Did this one catch fire as well ??

Did I mention...

i LUVVVVVVV my iPhone

Top ten reasons why I had an amazing weekend

Friday
1. Even though I had a tense, tiring week at work, somehow I was in tip top shape when I arrived at the temple and wasn't tired at all. It was the best shift I've had in months.

Saturday
2. I found a cool clothing store in the East Village where I can buy a vintage dress for my posh Christmas party and because I'm skinny I fit into anything I want.

3. I got to see the work Joanne and Drew have done on their lovely little house in Keyport. And I got to snuggle and play with the doggies. Auntie Genevieve has missed them.

4. I had the most delicious dinner I've eaten since moving to New York. Blackened 12 ounce pork chop, french onion bread pudding and porcini mushroom cream sauce. Everything cooked to perfection. I can still taste it. Drew's Bayshore Bistro in Keyport, NJ, try it for yourself.

5. Watched Bond speed through the Tuscan hills in the new Aston Martin. I have such a crush, and not on that Daniel Craig, though he's pretty gorgeous as well.

6. Jason and I played with our iPhones together til the wee small hours.

Sunday
7. We played with our iPhones some more, but not during the important bits of church. I promise! And he downloaded the scriptures for me so I can read on the subway.

8. Watched episode 3 of Venice - courtesans, the Grand Tour, Santa Maria de la Salute and Napoleonic invasion. I'm getting so excited to go.

9. We all scarfed luau Hawaiian food leftovers - salted pulled pork, roast chicken, pineapple and pina colada cake - until our tummies hurt so much we wanted to die. And then we all had some more.

10. Jeff Butler and I talked up a Scando-lovin' storm at the Mug and Mingle pre-Christmas shindig. Gave him the best relationship advice/pep talk of his life. He's gonna owe it all to me!

The final countdown begins today

10 days - I meet baby Andrew
11 days - I'm in Venice

I'm working on setting up a gizmo on my iPhone that will allow me to post photos taken on beautiful brand new iPhone immediately to the blog, giving you all an almost real time travelogue. That's instant London, babies, Venezia, mamma mia!

World's top five cemetery tours

Seriously... http://www.guardian.co.uk/travel/2008/oct/25/fivebest-cemetery-tours

North of the border

I was supposed to be spending today clawing my way up the side of a pyramid. But the gods and the elements had other ideas, and our hotel in Mexico City had a fire at the beginning of the week. No hotel ... no holiday. Everything was cancelled and here I sit, still in New York City, still haven't had a holiday yet this year.

Dad says we'll go to Oaxaca next year instead, so I still get a trip to Mexico and we don't have to dodge muggers, kidnappers and assasins. Ok, fair enough.

I still need a holiday though!

NEVER eat cookies for breakfast!

My boys

In ready supply

My roommate Libby called out to everyone in the apartment yesterday asking for some Bandaids for a cut finger. I rushed to her aid, reminding her that I always have a huge stash of Bandaids.

"It's one of the top three (not quite sure why I said that) things I always have!"

"What are the other two?" she asked. "Attitude and travel plans?!"

And she's right.

Another trip?

I would love to take Jonathan on a little trip next February, just the two of us. And I would like to do some family history research in Ireland. Jonathan has shown a lot of interest in family history (don't tell him yet, but I'm grooming him to be the next Bovee genealogist) so I thought a trip to Ireland might be the perfect thing. I had County Mayo in mind, but thought I should probably do a bit of research ahead of time to make sure we had a good enough reason to go!

My great-great grandmother Ellen Mulherin, later Ellen Ducie, (the lady on the right with the rather interesting hairdo)

came from Mayo and thanks to some records newly made available online, I was able to find her exact date (5 April 1867) and place (Coolcronan, North Mayo) of birth. I knew from her obituary that Ellen had a least one brother, and with a little further digging I discovered that in fact she had two brothers, Thomas and James, and three sisters, Anne, Elizabeth and Bridget (there's always a Bridget!).

We already knew the names of Ellen's parents, Ellen McDonnell and Patrick Mulherin. I found a record of their marriage, also in Coolcronan, which supplied me with the names of both Ellen's grandfathers, Martin McDonnell and Thady (short for something?) Mulherin, my fourth great grandfathers and Jonathan and Andrew's (can I just tell you how exciting it is to write Jonathan and Andrew) fifth great grandfathers. Most of my research now involves extended families, so it's quite a special moment when I discover the name of a direct ancestor.

So now Jonathan and I have somewhere to go. We don't come from wealthy families, so there's no ancestral pile to visit. There's probably no physical legacy of these chaps, but, as with my dead of winter expedition to Wisconsin last December, it's just nice to be somewhere where our family was. And of course we'll cruise around a bit and do some serious 9-year-old stuff as well. Does anyone know what 9-year-olds like to do? Auntie's a bit out of the loop I'm afraid.

"It's official... I'm a charmer!"

First look

Everyone, this is Andrew.

I'm an auntie!

Andrew Anthony King was born around 2pm England time. I don't yet have his weight, but I hear he is long-legged and destined to sprout spectacularly.

My little sister is now the mother of three sons!

I just bought my fourth international plane ticket in 10 days!

Travels

I'm going to Venice for Thanksgiving. Now that's something to be grateful for.

I'll be making a quick 2-day stop-over in England to meet my new baby (arrival imminent - watch this space) and then on to Venice for 3 days with Lauren. I'm not a first timer, I spent 5 hours in Venice some years ago, but there's so much more to explore. We went on a warm, sunny May Dad, having seen the city bathed in sunlight, I'm looking forward to seeing it in the fog. And I'm hoping for Aqua Alta so we can splash around in the Piazza San Marco.

But before I get to Venice, I shall be going to Mexico City for Halloween. Dad will be there for 10 days sharpening his Spanish and I'm dropping in for a four-day visit. We'll see a good part of the city and one day he's taking me to the ruins at Teotihuacan.

I would imagine many Americans think of Europe as exotic and far flung, and Mexico as just the neighbors, but for me this is really exotic. And it will be so much fun to finally visit Central America with Dad after growing up with stories of his time there.

Wide awake

We moved apartments last night/today. We had seventeen hours to do it: midnight to 5pm today. Got everything done, but that means I've been awake since 8am yesterday. The others had a nap around 6 am but I kept schlepping and painting.

That means I've been awake for almost 33 hours. Never studied all night at university. Never worked a night shift. So I'm going for a record. Wait a minute, I've set the record, ages ago. I'm just breaking my own record.

I heard once from Ronnie Wood that he and Keith Richards did six straight days once. I'm not going to break their record.

Big cheese

He said third Indiana Jones film was released in 1990. I said no, 1987, maybe 1989. He was adamant and wanted to make a bet with me. I'm careful with my money, but mighty competitive, so I said, "Alright, I'll bet you a LARGE cheese sandwich." He said, "You're on".

And I was right. 24 May 1989. I just won a cheese sandwich! I don't care if I even get it. I just love that I won the bet.

That's two in a row.

Longer days

Today was the first day I left the office and it was still light outside. That's usually something I announce in the springtime when the days are getting longer, but it's autumn. So what does this mean? It means I've been working late every night for the past two weeks. So what it really means is my life is a bit crap right now.

Still, I always take some comfort in knowing it could be much worse. Like for this chap I heard about in a BBC new story who got himself arrested for having 86 wives. The Shariah court is all up in arms because under Islamic law he's allowed only four. But he doesn't believe Allah is unhappy with him. What evidence does he offer for this? He says, "Any man that did not have help from Allah in keeping 86 wives would surely drop dead!" I'm inclined to agree with him.

And I really like his hat.

Wish I could live in Kentucky

I've been working on a project that involved transcribing what felt like about a million addresses of mine workers in northeast Kentucky. Tedious job, but the street names were kinda fun:

Silk Stocking Road
Middle Greasy Creek
Big Ugly Road
Burning Tree Lane
Pigeon Roost Road
Fox Hunters Ridge
Bob & Joann Lane
Stumbo Hollow
Triple S Road
Raccoon Road
Little Lick Fork
Upper Blackberry
Pansy Lane
Sulfur Springs Road
Left Jockey Hollow

and my favourite...
Fex Creek

I know it's puerile but that one makes me laugh out loud every time.

I think Dad has a list of towns in Texas with silly names. If anyone can think of other such lists, let me know, we Bovees love this kind of thing.

C.E.R.N.tainly it'll be fine

So our physicist friends in Switzerland are pretty confident there won't be some kind of planet terminating event over there tomorrow when they switch on their giant bicycle pump. Still, I'm going out for a really good dinner tonight and enjoying a bit of my favourite telly. I don't want to have spent my last evening in this dimension eating cold pot noodle and doing the wash!

The long night is over

The ink on our new lease is dry and the ordeal is finally over. We have a place to live (for another year at least) and we don't have to worry about moving as it's just downstairs in our current building. My new address will be 45 Wall St #301.

It's a gorgeous little apartment with two large bedrooms, a living room nearly as big as the one we have now, and a large alcove where we can keep our sewing stuff and work on other projects. We have high ceilings - 11 ft - so an illusion of even more space. There will just be the four of us, so not quite as hectic as the last two years.

I can't tell you how relieved we all are! Things have worked out well.

BFI on youtube

I discovered that the British Film Institute, which has the largest film archive in the world, has a youtube channel. I couldn't sleep this morning so I've been watching clips from their collections.
There are wonderful historical films of Edwardian Britain, clips from a filmed tour of Britain in 1924, and several films of old London. They have "educational" films from the forties and fifties, including one called "Growing Girls" that's not for the faint-hearted. I loved the old football matches, the men in their suits, steam trains and omnibuses, and suffragettes on the march. Here's one that Mum will love Holidaying in 1957. There's the Mystery of Marriage and courtship explained. How to make the perfect Valentine. Hints on how young ladies can fight off thieves. And Rush hour in 1896 (a little quieter on the bridge than when I used to cross it).

Janice Lurine Bovee

One evening when Dad was visiting New York, we dined out in style at a Greek restaurant, Molyvos, and between courses I quizzed him about his family. We talked about his father's many brothers and sisters, most of them Dad never met, and I realised that though we assumed all had long since passed away, his youngest sister Janice, born in 1926, may still be living. I decided to make it my mission to find her for him and get us together if possible.

Well thanks to my friend Charles who is a professional genealogist, we located her this week. Charles found an obituary in a Wisconsin newspaper and I nearly fell off my chair when I noted the date. She died just six weeks ago on July 29th... the day we had dined at Molyvos.

She was the last of her generation on both sides of Dad's family and it's ever so disappointing to think if we'd looked just a few months ago we might have been able to meet her. Though sadly the irony is without her obituary we probably wouldn't have found her. However, all is not lost. As you will read below, she had eight children (eight cousins for my Dad!), grandchildren and great-grandchildren, and I shall track them down and make friends with them.


Janice Lurine Lawton, Orfordville (1926 - 2008)
February 15, 1926 - July 29, 2008Janice Lurine Lawton, 82, passed away Tuesday, July 29, 2008, in Collinwood Elder Care, Orfordville. She was born on Feb. 15, 1926, in Medford, WI, daughter of George and Lillian (Brown) Bovee. She married Leonard Revels on June 20, 1944. Leonard was the father of her children. She married Floyd Johnson in 1957; he passed away on July 20, 1980. She married Bernard Lawton on Feb. 9, 1985; he passed away on July 21, 2000. Janice was a nurse and caregiver. As a resident at the Garden Court Apartments, she was very active setting up activities and music for all residents. She enjoyed crocheting, reading, talking on the phone, playing cards and other games, and spending time with her grandchildren and great-grandchildren.She is survived by her sons: Paul "Bud" (Caroline) Revels of Footville, Ronald (Christine) Revels of Twin Falls, ID, Larry (Darlene) Revels of Mauston, and Jim (Penny) Nielsen of Sioux City, SD; daughters: Roberta (Mike) Kemper of Beaverton, OR, Cynthia (Roger) Williams of Byram, MS, Barb Augustin of La Place, LA, and Sandy (Fred) McKillips of lola, WI; grandchildren; great-grandchildren; and great-great-grandchildren.She was preceded in death by her parents; husbands; and a grandson, Ryan McKillips.