General Chat

Hi all...I have no idea where this one came from...it just wrote itself as I sat here. It expresses my feelings adequately but I would like to know your feelings on the subject...feel free to e-mail me on [email protected] or leave a message on the board...Thanks, love you all! Brian D The scientist leaned back in his chair, then lit a fag and combed his hair Emptied the rest of his coffee cup down his throat...the game is up! "If they can build this just as planned I'll be famous throughout the land A bomb as powerful as this is not a project to be missed" They built it right, just as he said the result would be ten thousand dead It only cost three billion quid of taxpayers money...yes it did! It was not to be...the fuse was wrong the scientist didn't get his "gong" The powerful bomb or dampened squib Was never used...well that's a fib, It became a threat, though of weak construction Bush saw a weapon of mass destruction "That's all I need to nuke them all I'll bomb the bastards...have a ball and if they have the least effrontery I'll over-run their bloody country." How many people do you know? A hundred? Thousand? High or low? And how many think that war is good? Just cos someone says they should. I don't know ONE who wants a war So what's this global fighting for? Why do they tear the Earth apart? When a little love straight from the heart Is all it needs to solve our trouble; No more dead nor heaps of rubble What you give out comes back to you a hundred-fold, so I beg of you Think LOVE at all times, happy or sad, cos a hundred times love...it can't be bad. (c) text Brian Damerell 6 November 2003

hi, I am Fi Yes thats Me! I have had a good day why could that be. I got 2 certs that i wasnt sure about but hey just think how much info this amounts. Yes they were 100 percent, I have 4 1/2 siblings which I know were meant whom maybe I hope one day i will meet then maybe one day I will be able to treat.

I am no poet. I have a very special request for Raymond Casey on behalf of Vivien. She would like for you to delete her poems which you transcribed. She said it is nothing against you. Vivien always cherished your friendship. I am here only as a minder for Vivien in her forced absence. Regards Adam

looking down from Heaven! We are looking down from Heaven! Watching you on Parade we see each wreath being carefully laid At the Cenotaph in the mall Where we once walked with our best gal We see the marching bands , hear the piper's lament. We see you observe the respectful silence. We see the poppies worn by everyone remembring, Father, Husband, Brother, and Son! We see and are heartened that you care We feel the sorrow that you share. Now we belong to a heavenly Corps the battle cry we hear no more. You must beleive, from grief refrain For we have been made Whole again. We walk with the Gods straight and true! We too remember all of you. value your freedom, guard it with pride. IT was for that gift that we died. terri morrow 9 /11 /03

Hi all, Am useless with words but wanted to thank all my friends Have been feeling rather down, Just moping around in my dressing gown. But then came a ray of sunshine, Completely out of the blue, Mail from a friend whoes true. Shelli xx

Photographs Photographs are smiles that last forever Snowmen that cannot melt away Birthday celebrations caught in amber Rescued from the vaults of yesterday Faces that were once more dear than diamonds Boys who kept you up until the dawn Houses filled with bicycles and babies Ghosts who left their shadows on the lawn Photographs are holes in time's grey curtain Through them we can peek into the past Call upon our parents and our children Pop a cork with members of the cast There they are, the days of jazz and joyrides Snaps of magic moments lit by laughs If you ever find my house on fire Leave the silver, save the photographs Fran Landesman

A fly can flee, but a flea can't fly The little worm can't do either A wasp can be, but a bee can't wasp He likes the hot sunny weather.

Written on a gravestone in Ilston Churchyard... I have been walking through the Churchyard for the last 35 years on and off with groups of school children and reading it out aloud to them... at 63 years of age I wonder why it is becoming more uncomfortable !!... In Memory of William Williams Remember friends as you pass by, As you are now so once was I. As I am now so you will be, Prepare in time to follow me.

This poem surely is the Genealogists anthem. Forefathers Edmund Blunden Here they went with smock and crook, Toiled in the sun, lolled in the shade, Here they muddied out the brook And here they hatchet cleared the glade: Harvest-supper woke their wit, Huntsman's moon their wooings lit. From this church they led their brides, From this church themselves were led Shoulder-high; on these waysides Sat to take their beer and bread. Names are gone-what men they were 'these their cottages declare. Names are vanished, save the few In the old brown Bible scrawled; These were men of pith and thew, Whom the city never called; Scarce could read or hold a quill, Built the barn, the forge, the mill. On the green they watched their sons Playing till too dark to see, As their fathers watched them once, As my father once watched me; While the bat and beetle flew On the warm air webbed with dew. Unrecorded, unrenowned, Men from whom my ways begin, Here I know you by your ground But I know you not within- All is mist, and there survives Not a moment of your lives. Like the bee that now is blown Honey-heavy on my hand, From the toppling tansy-throne In the green tempestuous land,- I'm in clover now, nor know Who made honey long ago.

Christmas is coming, there's excitement in the air In Manchester and Guildford, lot's of members will be there Everybody anxious to see what others will be wearing It's not important ladies...cos we know that you are caring! Don't you dare to eat too much, you know what doctor said Too much salad makes you ill, you'll finish up in bed. Don't do this and don't do that, and then you hear a groan If you finish up in bed...so what..as long as it's your own! There'll be every kind of formal wear, from top hats, weskits, suits, And every kind of hosiery and even button boots But for me the star attraction...a real get-at-it goer Has got to be, from Gosport town, our Colin and his boa! Have fun, folks Brian from Gillingham

Friends! Friends, I think you will agree are people you just love to see. Friends are people you know are there when you are feeling in despair. Friends are there for you day and night Friends are always in your sight. I have made loads of friends on here but there are a special few, To especially them but to one and all. I want to say THANK YOU!!!!! Fi 7/12/03

Colin that was beautiful Thats exactly how I am when I'm trying not think about my dad, And this time of year I do feel sad Its christmas number four without him this year but all my memories I do hold so dear. When I lost him from my life I did but wonder how I would cope I thought he would come back, I lived in hope. But four years on and the pain is still raw and I sometimes hide from it and try to shut that door I know one day I will see him again but until then, Christmas will be a sad time for me because my best friend is to not here to share it anymore. I know some of it rhymes some of it doesn't but its the contents that matters and not way it sounds Alaina x

Ain't this the truth !! I started out calmly, tracing my tree, To find if I could find the makings of me. And all that I had was Great-grandfather's name, not knowing his wife or from where he came. I chased him across a long line of states, And came up with pages and pages of dates. When all put together, it made me forlorn, Proved poor Great-grandpa had never been born. One day I was sure the truth I had found, Determined to turn this whole thing upside down. I looked up the record of one Uncle John, But then I found the old man to be younger than his son. Then when my hopes were fast growing dim, I came across records that must have been him. The facts I collected made me quite sad, Dear old Great grandfather was never a Dad. I think someone is pulling my leg, I am not at all sure I wasn't hatched from an egg. After hundreds of dollars I've spent on my tree, I can't help but wonder if I'm really me.. I wasn't given the name of the author of the above poem. Sorry.

XMAS GENEALOGY POEM Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even my spouse. The dining room table with clutter was spread With pedigree charts and with letters which said... "Too bad about the data for which you wrote Sank in a storm on an ill fated boat." Stacks of old copies of wills and the such Were proof that my work had become much to much. Our children were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of sugarplums danced in their heads. And I at my table was ready to drop From work on my album with photos to crop. Christmas was here, and of such was my lot That presents and goodies and toys I forgot. Had I not been so busy with grandparent's wills, I'd not have forgotten to shop for such thrills. While others had bought gifts that would bring Christmas cheer; I'd spent time researching those birthdates and years. While I was thus musing about my sad plight, A strange noise on the lawn gave me such a great fright. Away to the window I flew in a flash, Tore open the drapes and I yanked up the sash. When what to my wondering eyes should appear? But an overstuffed sleigh and eight small reindeer. Up to the housetop the reindeer they flew, With a sleigh full of toys, and old Santa Claus too. And then in a twinkle, I heard on the roof The prancing and pawing of thirty-two hoofs. The TV antenna was no match for their horns, And look at our roof with hoof-prints adorned. As I drew in my head, and bumped it on the sash, Down the cold chimney fell Santa - KER-RASH! "Dear" Santa had come from the roof in a wreck, And tracked soot on the carpet, (I could wring his short neck!) Spotting my face, good old Santa could see I had no Christmas spirit you'd have to agree. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work And filled all the stockings, (I felt like a jerk). Here was Santa, who'd brought us such gladness and joy; When I'd been too busy for even one toy. He spied my research on the table all spread "A genealogist!" He cried! (My face was all red!) "Tonight I've met many like you", Santa grinned. As he pulled from his sack a large book he had penned. I gazed with amazement - the cover it read "Genealogy Lines for Which You Have Plead." "I know what it's like as a genealogy bug," He said as he gave me a a great Santa Hug. "While the elves make the sleighful of toys I now carry, I do some research in the North Pole Library! A special treat I am thus able to bring, To genealogy folks who can't find a thing. Now off you go to your bed for a rest, I'll clean up the house from this genealogy mess." As I climbed up the stairs full of gladness and glee, I looked back at Santa who'd brought much to me. While settling in bed, I heard Santa's clear whistle, To his team which then rose like the down of a thistle And I heard him exclaim as he flew out of sight, "Family History is Fun! Merry Christmas! Goodnight!" Author Unknown

GRANDMA AND THE FAMILY TREE There's been a change in Grandma, we've noticed her of late, She's always reading history or jotting down some date. She's tracking back the family, we'll all have pedigrees. Oh, Grandma's got a hobby, she's climbing Family Trees. Poor Grandpa does the cooking and now, or so he states, That worst of all, he has to wash the cups and dinner plates. Grandma can't be bothered, she's busy as a bee, Compiling genealogy - for the Family Tree. She has no time to baby-sit, the curtains are a fright, No buttons left on Grandad's shirt, the flower bed's a sight. She's given up her club-work, the serials on TV, The only thing she does nowadays is climb the Family Tree. She goes down to the courthouse and studies ancient lore, We know more about our forebears than we ever knew before. The books are old and dusty, they make poor Grandma sneeze, A minor irritation when you're climbing Family Trees. The mail is all for Grandma, it comes from near and far, Last week she got the proof she needs to join the DAR. A worthwhile avocation, to that we all agree, A monumental project, to climb the Family Tree. Now some folks came from Scotland and some from Galway Bay, Some were French as pastry, some German, all the way. Some went on west to stake their claim, some stayed near by the sea. Grandma hopes to find them all as she climbs the Family Tree. She wanders through the graveyard in search of date or name, The rich, the poor, the in-between, all sleeping there the same. She pauses now and then to rest, fanned by a gentle breeze, That blows above the Fathers of all our Family Trees. There were pioneers and patriots mixed in our kith and kin, Who blazed the paths of wilderness and fought through thick and thin. But none more staunch than Grandma, whose eyes light up with glee, Each time she finds a missing branch for the Family Tree. Their skills were wide and varied, from carpenter to cook, And one (Alas!) the record shows was hopelessly a crook. Blacksmith, weaver, farmer, judge, some tutored for a fee, Long last in time, now all recorded on the Family Tree. To some it's just a hobby, to Grandma it's much more, She knows the joys and heartaches of those who went before. They loved, they lost, they laughed, they wept, and now for you and me, They live again in spirit, around the Family Tree. At last she's nearly finished and we are each exposed. Life will be the same again, this we supposed! Grandma will cook and sew, serve cookies with our tea. We'll all be fat, just as before that wretched Family Tree. Sad to relate, the Preacher called and visited for a spell, We talked about the Gospel, and other things as well, The heathen folk, the poor and then - 'twas fate, it had to be, Somehow the conversation turned to Grandma and the Family Tree. We tried to change the subject, we talked of everything, But then in Grandma's voice we heard that old familiar ring. She told him all about the past and soon was plain to see, The Preacher, too, was nearly snared by Grandma and the Family Tree. He never knew his Grandpa, his mother's name was...Clark? He and Grandma talked and talked, outside it grew dark. We'd hoped our fears were groundless, but just like some disease, Grandma's become an addict - she's hooked on Family Trees. Our souls were filled with sorrow, our hearts sank with dismay, Our ears could scarce believe the words we heard our Grandma say, "It sure is a lucky thing that you have come to me, I know exactly how it's done, I'll climb your Family Tree!" Author Unknown

last one,.... wont take up all yr room... :) On the Twelfth Day of Christmas, My True love gave to me, Twelve Census Searches, Eleven Printer Ribbons, Ten E-Mail Contacts, Nine Headstone Rubbings, Eight Birth and Death dates, Seven Town Clerks Sighing, Six Second Cousins, Five Coats of Arms, Four GEDCOM files, Three old Wills, Two CD-ROMS, And a Branch in my Family Tree

Dear Santa: Don't bring me new dishes, I don't need a new kind of game. Genealogists have peculiar wishes For Christmas I just want a surname. A new washing machine would be great, But it's not the desire of my life. I've just found an ancestor's birth date; What I need now is the name of his wife. My heart doesn't yearn for a ring That would put a real diamond to shame. What I want is a much cheaper thing; Please give me Mary's last name. To see my heart singing with joy, Don't bring me a read leather suitcase, Bring me a genealogist's toy; a surname with dates and a place. -Author unknown

Step into my world this Xmas night come fill your heart with innocent delight. Forget the humbugs who say Christmas is dead look through the children's eyes instead. For us there is magic in all, we see the presents in a stocking, lights on a tree. Trying so hard to get some sleep hoping to see Santa down the chimney creep. Will he remember whats on my list.? I did say please! and signed with a kiss. Hurry up Christmas! quickly come Wonder how early I can wake my mum?

awww found this...did bring a tear... A Soldier's Christmas 'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS, HE LIVED ALL ALONE, IN A ONE BEDROOM HOUSE MADE OF PLASTER AND STONE. I HAD COME DOWN THE CHIMNEY WITH PRESENTS TO GIVE, AND TO SEE JUST WHO IN THIS HOME DID LIVE. I LOOKED ALL ABOUT, A STRANGE SIGHT I DID SEE, NO TINSEL, NO PRESENTS, NOT EVEN A TREE. NO STOCKING BY MANTLE, JUST BOOTS FILLED WITH SAND, ON THE WALL HUNG PICTURES OF FAR DISTANT LANDS. WITH MEDALS AND BADGES, AWARDS OF ALL KINDS, A SOBER THOUGHT CAME THROUGH MY MIND. FOR THIS HOUSE WAS DIFFERENT, IT WAS DARK AND DREARY, I FOUND THE HOME OF A SOLDIER, ONCE I COULD SEE CLEARLY. THE SOLDIER LAY SLEEPING, SILENT, ALONE, CURLED UP ON THE FLOOR IN THIS ONE BEDROOM HOME. THE FACE WAS SO GENTLE, THE ROOM IN SUCH DISORDER, NOT HOW I PICTURED A UNITED STATES SOLDIER. WAS THIS THE HERO OF WHOM I'D JUST READ? CURLED UP ON A PONCHO, THE FLOOR FOR A BED? I REALIZED THE FAMILIES THAT I SAW THIS NIGHT, OWED THEIR LIVES TO THESE SOLDIERS WHO WERE WILLING TO FIGHT. SOON ROUND THE WORLD, THE CHILDREN WOULD PLAY, AND GROWNUPS WOULD CELEBRATE A BRIGHT CHRISTMAS DAY. THEY ALL ENJOYED FREEDOM EACH MONTH OF THE YEAR, BECAUSE OF THE SOLDIERS, LIKE THE ONE LYING HERE. I COULDN'T HELP WONDER HOW MANY LAY ALONE, ON A COLD CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LAND FAR FROM HOME. THE VERY THOUGHT BROUGHT A TEAR TO MY EYE, I DROPPED TO MY KNEES AND STARTED TO CRY. THE SOLDIER AWAKENED AND I HEARD A ROUGH VOICE, "SANTA DON'T CRY, THIS LIFE IS MY CHOICE; I FIGHT FOR FREEDOM, I DON'T ASK FOR MORE, MY LIFE IS MY GOD, MY COUNTRY, MY CORPS." THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER AND DRIFTED TO SLEEP, I COULDN'T CONTROL IT, I CONTINUED TO WEEP. I KEPT WATCH FOR HOURS, SO SILENT AND STILL AND WE BOTH SHIVERED FROM THE COLD NIGHT'S CHILL. I DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVE ON THAT COLD, DARK, NIGHT, THIS GUARDIAN OF HONOR SO WILLING TO FIGHT. THEN THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER, WITH A VOICE SOFT AND PURE, WHISPERED, "CARRY ON SANTA, IT'S CHRISTMAS DAY, ALL IS SECURE." ONE LOOK AT MY WATCH, AND I KNEW HE WAS RIGHT, MERRY CHRISTMAS MY FRIEND, AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT

A friend of mine caught a snail He tried to train it in stages Sitting and waiting went quite well But fetching a stick took ages