Well, in spite of some very, um, entertaining dreams, The Squire still hasn’t found his missing tapes.
He spent most of today entering family information from sheets his middle sister gathered at a family reunion several years ago, which he had picked up while we were visiting last week. It is a wonder he has not pulled out what little hair he has left. As far as first names go, his family is as bad as French Royalty. Got a good name? Stick with it. He has at least twenty people named Alonzo, several in the same generation, where three siblings would each name a son after their father. Y’know, stuff like that’ll drive a genealogist bonkers. Some people who filled out forms listed their parents, spouses and children as requested, and others listed only first names or nicknames, and one person, asked to list children and grandchildren only wrote “too many for this paper”. He has a cousin (or is it an uncle?) known only as Fat, and another is listed as Kissy. And then there is a woman named Betty Elizabeth. Who are these people?
Way back, when I worked for Blue Cross, I took a call from a fellow who was adding his infant son the his policy. His name was Francis J. and his wife was Frances M. The new baby? Francis T. “You named him Francis?” I asked weakly. “We named him after my father.”
What do these folks do when the phone rings?
thisendoftheswamp 