General Chat

I'd Rather Do Genealogy!

Cooking? Cleaning? I'd Rather do Genealogy!

They think that I should cook and clean, and be a model wife.
I tell them it's more interesting to study Grandpa's life.
They simply do not understand why I hate to go to bed . . .
I'd rather do two hundred years of research work instead.

Why waste the time we have on earth just snoring and asleep?
When we can learn of ancestors that sailed upon the deep?
We have priests, Rabbis, lawmen, soldiers, more than just a few.
And yes, there's many scoundrels, and a bootlegger or two.

How can a person find this life an awful drudge or bore?
When we can live the lives of all those folks who came before?
A hundred years from now of course, no one will ever know
Whether I did laundry, but they'll see our Tree and glow . . .

'Cause their dear old granny left for them, for all posterity,
not clean hankies and the like, but a finished family tree.
My home may be untidy, 'cause I've better things to do . . .
I'm checking all the records to provide us with a clue.

Old great granny's pulling roots and branches out with glee,
Her clothes ain't hanging out to dry, she's hung up on The Tree.

--Mel Oshins

Please add your Genealogy Rhymes.

All Standing In a Row



If you could see your ancestors
All standing in a row,
Would you be proud of them,
Or don't you really know?

Some strange discoveries are made
In climbing family trees,
And some of them, you know,
Do not particularly please.

If you could see your ancestors
All standing in a row,
There might be some of them, perhaps,
You wouldn't care to know.

But here's another question, which
Requires a different view--
If you could meet your ancestors,
Would they be proud of you?

Thoughts which have kept me awake nights

No book is entirely perfect
For errors will creep in;
Sometimes wrong information is sent
By someone's nearest kin.

And even printers make mistakes
For which they tear their hair;
Sometimes two people disagree
On who or what or where.

It might have been the person
Who wrote the history
It might have been the typist,
Or blame the author, me.

So if you're dead before you're born,
Or married when you're three,
Or I've omitted anyone
Who sent themselves to me.

Or your last name is not your own,
Your picture not too good,
I ask you please forgive me
I did the best I could!

The Curse of the Search


Some branches are broken, others snarled and bent.
Still many are missing, where could they have went?
But the trunk is still firm, the roots are down deep.
They hold many truths that still lay there asleep.


I'm searching the limbs for the secrets they hold.
For lost tales and stories that's never been told.
I'm looking for family that was lost in the ramble,
For truths about them for me to unscramble.


I may find a scoundrel and a wild renegade or two.
You'll find them in all families, that's really not new.
That fact that I found them, that's all that counts.
I feel I have gained something, my curiosity mounts.


I've got the taste of blood, there's no stopping me now.
I'll not rest nor will I laggard till I solve this somehow.
It may take some doing and a lot more of my time.
But I promise before I'm done it will all turn out fine.


When it all gets together and my rigorous quest is through,
I'll go back to my notes in hopes of finding something new.
The search bug has bit me, leaving me still in that frame,
For that thrill of the search is still embed in my brain.


-- Fred Shanahan Shannon

Those are wonderful Belair, sorry I've none to add, but I agree with what they say, folk don't understand, housework put on hold, could keep on all night just searching, that's me to a tee.

I'd Rather Do Genealogy!

omg thats me that is!! lmao that is fantastic...i am gonna print it and hang it in my kitchen lol

n

thats brill
i aint got any rhyme
to add, but they all apply to me,
id rather be doing geneology than HW

If I'd Only Listened


If I'd only listened
To Mama while at her knee,
As she talked and told old-time stories
Of things and people as they used to be.

If I'd only listened;
But I thought the age-old stories were a bore.
All those names, dates, and tales,
Some how, I managed to ignore.

If I'd only listened
As Mama told how things were then;
Or had her to re-tell
The stories and tales again and again.

If I'd only listened,
Questioned, and asked her
About her Grandpap, Granny, and others
As to When? What? and Where?

If I'd only listened;
Her wealth of information
I would now treasure
As I'd have abundant family documentation.

If I'd only listened to Mama;
But it's now too late!
So, I'll just record on paper the facts
I know and to the Historic Society donate.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Census

It was the first day of census, and all through the land;
The pollster was ready, a black book in hand.
He mounted his horse for a long dusty ride;
His book and some quills were tucked close by his side.
A long winding ride down a road barely there;
Toward the smell of fresh bread wafting, up through the air.
The woman was tired, with lines on her face;
And wisps of brown hair she tucked back into place.
She gave him some water, as they sat at the table;
And she answered his questions -- the best she was able.
He asked of her children. Yes, she had quite a few;
The oldest was twenty, the youngest not two.
She held up a toddler with cheeks round and red;
His sister, she whispered, was napping in bed.
She noted each person who lived there with pride;
And she felt the faint stirrings of the wee one inside.
He noted the sex, the color, the age.
The marks from the quill soon filled up the page.
At the number of children, she nodded her head;
And saw her lips quiver for the three that were dead.
The places of birth she "never forgot";
Was it Kansas? or Utah? or Oregon -- or not?
They came from Scotland, of that she was clear;
But she wasn't quite sure just how long they'd been here.
They spoke of employment, of schooling and such;
They could read some, and write some, though really not much.
When the questions were answered, his job there was done;
So he mounted his horse and he rode toward the sun.
We can almost imagine his voice loud and clear;
"May God bless you all for another ten years."
Now picture a time warp -- its' now you and me;
As we search for the people on our family tree.
We squint at the census and scroll down so slow;
As we search for that entry from long, long ago.
Could they only imagine on that long ago day;
That the entries they made would effect us this way?
If they knew, would they wonder at the yearning we feel;
And the searching that makes them so increasingly real.
We can hear if we listen the words they impart;
Through their blood in our veins and their voice in our heart.

-- Anonymous

These are brilliant ---thank you!!!
Now ,anyone got time to embroider samplers for prosterity (sp) ??

Eeerrrrrrrr sorry ......
cant embroider lol
Hazelx

no way
i too busy on here chatting lol

id knit one but i not got the concentration levels, and spell wrong

I've got a sampler that my great Grandmother made :)

I finished a sampler approx. 22" x 30" in 1996, it's on the bedroom wall above the bed, don't know who'll want it when I move on to be an ancestor, hopefully whoever wants my tree .

Those are brilliant

Thank you

Sue

n

ANONYMOUS FANTASTIC..........

brought tears to my eyes.

gwen xx

Loved reading them especially the Anonymous.