Archive for the Old Deep Roots Category

Joseph’s Return

Posted in Call Me The Seeker, Everday Living, Family History, Hestia's Hearth, Misspent Youth, Old Deep Roots, The Family Tees with tags , , , , , , on 02/06/2010 by gwenguin1

The short story below is based on both my genealogical res3earch, and a family legend about ‘Big Joe’ DuBay:

‘Manda watched the road every day for Joseph’s return, she knew that the heavy frosts at night would send the loggers home from the camp for the winter.  She dreaded the summers, with him somewhere in the eerily dense forests beyond their small farm.  She didn’t complain about being the one to tend the crops and care for the animals, she was used to the hard work. 

She even enjoyed the opportunity to wear pants instead of her heavy skirts.  She was cooler as she walked the rows of corn, squash, tomatoes, beans, and even some rice in the lowest part of their property.  The wheat and hay was saved for the cows and Joseph’s prized Percheron pair, a well-matched mare and stallion.  They needed little in the way of aids to plough deep and straight rows for planting, or to mow the hay that kept them sleek and healthy all winter.

Elle and Homme produced a fine foal every year, this year Elle had foaled late, and Joseph did not know that this year’s colt was black instead of dapple-grey.  Petit Noir was already getting large and powerful, although he was less than six months old.  She petted him every day, and had woven a halter for the colt out of strips of waste fabric from her sewing.  How he had strutted the first day she had settled it on his fuzzy black head!

How pleased Joseph would be to return to a farm ready for the winter; she had a pantry full of canned and dried fruit from the woods, She had traded in town for flour, sugar, and coffee.  She had gotten a good price for their weaner pigs, especially the gilt that had red and black spots on her white hide.  They stood to have a good winter, thanks to both of their hard work.

Their dog, a woolly mixed breed barked, and she heard the joy in his voice, only Joseph’s return would cause that, the children they already had charged out the door, calling, “Papa!  Papa!”

‘Manda followed them, taking time to wrap a shawl around her shoulders, the fringe moving in time with her strides.  She smiled to herself, by the light of the lantern she could see him distributing maple sugar candy to their children, taking the time to hug each one and greet them by name.  He lifted little George to his shoulders and trotted towards her.

“’Manda, my dear wife, I ‘ave missed you so!  Augustus ‘as no skill at the cooking, I am wearied of bacon and beans with black bread.”  He held her close and inhaled the scent of lavender that always clung to her clothes, and her.

“Zhoseph!  I am so glad to see you too.  Now I will sleep well at night again.  Allez, I ‘ave a fine roast boeuf for dîner with potatoes, beets, and a fine pain complet.

“Ahhhh… I will eat well again! ‘Ow much wood ‘ave we for the winter?”  Though he spoke lightly ‘Manda could hear something in his voice, a sadness he had not had before he left last spring.

“Zhoseph, what ‘as ‘appened?”

“Later, we will talk of it later ma petite.”  He leaned over; far enough to kiss the carpenter’s square perfect part in her dark hair.  He had spent the summer dreaming of watching her brush it at night, with a single candle bathing her in a golden halo of light.

Joseph’s pre-dinner prayer of thanks was heartfelt, even more deeply than usual.  The lamps glowed brightly over the dinner, shining on ‘Manda’s china and silver, both decorated with golden D’s.  The table itself gleamed from the patient sanding and oiling Joseph had lavished on it.

Dinner lasted late into the evening, Joseph told the children tales of the kinkajou that had terrorised the trappers, and the doe that had so little fear of them that she raised her twin fawns within sight of their single large cabin.  The loggers had taken to leaving treats for the family on a convenient stump.  By late summer the fawns would follow Augustus around, butting him with nubs of horns to beg for treats.

Pierre, the dog, gnawed happily on a beef bone under the trestle table Joseph had built to hold their growing family.  Little George was settled in Joseph’s lap, leaning trustingly against his father’s 6’5”, well-muscled form.  His dark eyes would flutter closed and then open in determination as soon as he heard his father’s voice.

Finally, after a treat of hot chocolate all of the children fell asleep under hand-sewn quilts on their bed of woven rope, under a down mattress.  George was rocking slowly in the small bed, Joseph’s foot happily taking his turn at rocking their baby.

“Now, Joseph, tell me what has darkened your heart so?”  ‘Manda took her husband’s calloused hands in her own.

“Ahhh, my ‘Manda, a terrible thing ‘appen this summer….” Joseph could not bring himself to look at his dainty, fearless wife.

“You know ‘ow the men are, they grow bored in the evening and seek something to fill the hours they would rather spend with their families.  They will drink, gamble, and ‘ave fights to pass these lonely times.  I usually spend the time reading, or praying to Le Bon Dieu.  I rarely take a drink for drinking will lead to foolish acts

“One night, I did take a drink, I ached worse than usual because the saw had kicked back so many times on an ancien oak.  I will not lie; I took more than one drink.

“The men were fighting one another, boxing and wrestling.  Paddy, le petit Irlandais, drank more than any and grew hostile.  He wished me to fight with ‘im, but I told ‘im non, for he is so much smaller than I, it could never be a fair fight.

“’E would not take my no for an answer and he attack me.  I ‘ad no choice but to defend myself.  I ‘ated to raise my ‘and to a friend so I did not ‘it as ‘ard as I can, I make a slow uppercut.

Unfortunelment, he sharge me as I did this, I ‘it Paddy in the nose.  He immediately fell down and did not get back up.  Augustus check, and Paddy ‘ad died from that one blow.

“’Ow can I ever go to ‘Eaven to be with Le Bon Dieu et L’enfant Jesu after I ‘ave killed my friend?  I must spend the rest of my life trying to return to God’s favour.

“I promise you, I will never drink again, nor raise my ‘and to any living thing.  I will dedicate my life to Le Bon Dieu.  From zees day forwar’ I will not swear and I will pray as often as I can…”

“Zhoseph, my dear, it was not your fault, le pauvre Paddy made the mistakes.”  ‘Manda cupped her husband’s face in her hands.

Joseph’s face crumpled and he began to sob, tearing sobs that shook his whole frame.  Manda stood and buried his face in her stomach, to muffle his cries and not disturb the children.

“It will be all right, my dear, have zee authorities been notified?”

“Yes, Enri rode into the nearest town and brought their sheriff back.  After he had spoken with everyone he said that Paddy’s death was an unfortunate accident, and that no-one would be charged.”

“When we go to Mass Sunday…” ‘Manda began.

“I ‘ave already ask Pere Robidaux to say a Mass for Paddy every morning, I pay ‘im too.  I ‘ave also made arrangements to ‘elp ‘is widow and children.  I personally rode to their ‘ome and apologise to Madame O’Brien…”

“Ahhhhh mon brave, you ‘ave t’ought of ever’t’ing.  What did Pere Robidaux say of all this?

After I confess to ‘im, ‘e give me a penance, an’ ‘e tell me God ‘as forgiven me.  I cannot yet forgive myself for what ‘appened.”

“I know Zhoseph, I do not blame you, and I will always love you, for you are a truly good man.”

Ma petite, ‘ow did I ever get so fortunate as to ‘ave you for my bride?”

“You make me laugh, right in the middle of Mass!”  ‘Manda kissed Joseph and smiled brightly.

It was then that Joseph knew that he was truly home.

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Yeah, Well… My family was…

Posted in Call Me The Seeker, Everday Living, Family History, Hestia's Hearth, Old Deep Roots, Soul Food Cafe Fun, Stuff And Nonsense, The Family Tees with tags , , , , , on 24/05/2010 by gwenguin1

 

“If you look deeply into the palm of your hand, you will see your parents and all generations of your ancestors. All of them are alive in this moment. Each is present in your body. You are the continuation of each of these people.”
~Thich Nhat Hanh~ 

 

There are any number of people (I’m one) who talk about what their ancestors did and who their ancestors were.  I can’t remember the quote I read about someone bragging about their ancestors is like a turnip; the best part of them is underground.

  
 I’m also one of those who wonder if the tall tales of ancestors are the truth or not.
 Can someone prove that his or her ancestor was tossing tea into the Boston Harbor?  Was someone’s Great-Great-great-Great Uncle was supposed to go to Little Big Horn with Yellow Hair, but they were ill and the fort Doctor said no to them going?
 
 How can one go about proving their boasts on generations past?  Simple, you do your family tree, or have it done.  Shiloh and I are doing this, and see the opportunity for a lot of writing, both journalistic and creative.


 I have been doing mine for about 6 months now and have followed one branch of eight Great-Grandparents all the way back to the 7th century.  I doubt I’ll see any more go back that far but you never know.


 Shiloh has been working on hers for a couple weeks so she’s still in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.  We both hope to find ancestors in common.

I hope to prove that there is Native American in my family tree.  Shiloh wants to know more about her Danish ancestors.


 We both want to do a series of posts about where our ancestors were during a specific historical event.  Par example, both of our families were already here in the U. S. for the Civil War/War of Northern Aggression.


 Since this is a joint project, you’ll be able to access all the posts we make on each of our personal blogs.  We’ll provide an archive and links to the posts so you’ll be able to track our progress.

 

Here is where you will be able to access everything from Shiloh’s Blog:

 

http://sunnydreamer.net/2010/ancestry-series.shtml

Living History

Posted in Everday Living, Old Deep Roots, Reviews and Previews, Stuff And Nonsense, You can do these! with tags , , , , , , , on 13/05/2010 by gwenguin1

 Below is a taste of living history- 2010 is the 150th anniversary of the Pony Express here in the US.

I  read a book many years ago, and many times called “Mustang-Wild Spirit of the West” , in the book “Wild Horse Annie” testifies before the US Supreme Court, that the Mustang, then being hunted for meat, was the only horse the Pony Express would use for the very difficult mountain terrain. 

The wiry, compactly tough little mustang was a descendant of the Andalusian horses brought here  by the Conquistadores, and then bred with horses that escaped or were ‘borrowed’ from white settlers during the days of the Wild West.

 
 

 
St. Joseph, Missouri - Where the Pony Express Began and Jesse James Ended.


 
 


Pony Express
Pony Experss
 

 


Relive the Excitement! Witness the 150th Pony Express Re-Ride.

If you missed the April 3, 2010, 150th celebration of the launch of the Pony Express, you won’t want to miss the National Pony Express Association’s Annual Re-Ride over the 1,966 mile route of the Pony Express National Historic Trail from California, through Nevada, Utah, Wyoming, Nebraska, Colorado, and Kansas to Missouri, June 6 to 26, 2010. The event commemorates the Pony Express of 1860-1861. This year marks the 150th Anniversary of the Pony Express. The Central Overland and California Pikes Peak Express Company carried letters and telegrams for 19 months to prove the Central Route through Salt Lake passable year round. The owners hoped to win a federal mail contract on that route. Pony Express history is preserved in the federally designated Historic Trail, administered by the National Park Service, in museums, Pony Rider monuments, books, and the annual re-creations by the NPEA.

Normally, this Re-Ride is a 10-day, 24-hour a day, non-stop event by over 500 riders and horses. In 2010 the Annual Re-Ride will divert to all daytime hours in most places. This gives the Divisions and other entities/communities a chance to hold a celebration. The mail will be carried by rivercraft from San Francisco to Sacramento before the start of the re-ride .

Each of the eight “Pony Express” states (California, Nevada, Utah, Wyoming, Nebraska, Colorado, Kansas, and Missouri) will also celebrate the 150th Anniversary of the Pony Express with events of their own, as well as, creating their own souvenirs.

The Re-Ride concludes on Saturday, June 26, 2010, at the Patee House Museum. In honor of the conclusion of the National Pony Express Association’s annual re-ride, at 10 a.m. the Missouri chapter of the NPEA will hold a colorful circa-1860 procession from the foot of Francis Street at the St. Joseph riverfront through downtown St. Joseph, past the famed Pony Express statue and original stables at the Pony Express Museum…ending with the arrival of the horses and mochila (mail bag) at the Patee House Museum, site of the original Pony Express headquarters. In a moving ceremony, commemorative letters carried from California will be turned over to the US Postal Service for delivery in St. Joseph-just like in the days of the Pony Express! Admission to the Patee House is $5 for adults and $3 for students; Admission to the Jesse James Home is $3 for adults and $1.50 for students, www.ponyexpressjessejames.com; (816) 232-8206.
 
St. Joseph, MO, has created a PX150 Sesquicentennial Facebook Page full of information happening around St. Joseph during 2010 for this anniversary year. Click HERE for additional information about the history of the Pony Express, 2010 Pony Express Sesquecentennial Event Calendar, and FREE downloads for your mobile phone.

 

 

 

Quick Link

 

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American Road magazine on:
http://r20.rs6.net/tn.jsp?et=1103273949633&s=4654&e=001ec38xg_2Dr4XksCGzQeW2t3ntjyjQ7HS9nMAaCEoelY6yv8MU1Cvy1cb0kHHItbHINNQlaZFIqIkckTkgOSedaY0MIzTP9PDxxWrwIRD76ItCb5XjkJX493FD247JCav27lnVsgW_Qsgx_UmvQ6zlMF2g_O2dL2y9mh_jAc6p4wJanMBKf3YLz4odH__vKgihttp://r20.rs6.net/tn.jsp?et=1103273949633&s=4654&e=001ec38xg_2Dr72l_7YIUr4fn1YC6rugUMszN1WT9W8c66-V5lOlT2fIrDdb4_y--UgcVQ_CupLtZmDuoTWDXG78RqRDxKLpUR2iMQzpXkd_AB3a0-dYErqMVZNzA6GxfjV


 

 
 

 

 

American Road Magazine | PO Box 46519 | Mt. Clemens | MI | 48046

Deja-Voo-Doo-wop

Posted in Everday Living, Family History, Hestia's Hearth, Misspent Youth, My Inspirations, Old Deep Roots, Reviews and Previews, The Moversd and the Shapers with tags , , , , , , , , , on 03/05/2010 by gwenguin1

My brother Matt and I went shopping this weeekend, off to the record and junk stores.  We always have so much fun doing this, showing one another weird vinyl we thought had died a well-deserved death many moons ago.

This time, however it was all cool stuff we found.  I only bought 1 new album, but I bought almost a dozen albums.  The one I clasped to my chest, ready to race home that very minute and play it, loud, on my stereo; and to he-double-toothpicks with anyone else’s feelings.

I know Mum wouldn’t mind, and I soon discovered that Matt got excited about it too.  He said he has never seenh it in all of his years of music shopping, and this was the first time I’d seen it.  I kept looking at the album again, so afraid it wasn’t what it was.  Finally, 36 hours later, I sat down to play and record it. 

Not more than three bars into the first side I was covered in gooseflesh, caught in a flashback to childhood that is still so clear. 

Mom and I went to the movies, just her and I, it was a special treat because of the orthopaedic shoes, leg braces, and spacer bar I was required to wear all the time.  This was supposed to treat the too-short muscles in my feet and the pigeon-toe’d-ness.

We sat almost in the very fromt, and there weren’t a lot of people at the theatre, but there were enough to make me more uncomfortable than I already was, on a picky, smelly theatre seat.  I was settled like a wee Princess with a small soda and candy, and my legs straight out in front of me wearing a dress of all things!!

At  last, the previews had finished and the lights faded completely away as “Fantasia” began.  I was so lost in the music and animation that I forgot my soda and candy, I forgot having to wear a dress, and I even forgot the leg braces and other equipages holding me still.

Most of the animation was so right, even the “Tocatta and Fugue in D Minor” by J. S. Bach, the free-form, pre-LSD trip psychedelia had me enthralled.  I fell in love with the centaurs and dancing crocodiles, and delighted in the dancing thistles, and the slow grace of Walt Disney’s fish.  To this day, I doodle my version of those fish, and don’t really think about it when I do it.

Igor Stravinsky’s “Rite of Spring”  was well paired with Disney’s animation for it, and almost impossible to look away from.

My two top clips were “Night on Bald Mountain” by Moussourgsky, I thought the devil was nicely scary, yet a devil that wouldn’t give us chillens bad dreams.

My #1 All-Time favourite was “The Sorceror’s Apprentice, but, as charming as Mickey was, and as delightful as the tale was, that wasn’t what I saw, then and to this day.  I see bears, of all kinds, brown, black, polar, grizzly; adult and cub romp in my imagination.

The most awesome thing about listening to part of “Fantasia” was that I remebered what wonder felt like, and how from the first time I saw this film my most secret dream was to create my own  version of this film, I have the story, the music, the desire, the only thing I don’t have is the eyesight.

There isn’t a durn thinag I can do about the eyesight, I’m so blind I don’t dare drive.  BUT>>> I am not going to sit around feeling sorry for myself, I can still doodle, read and write (which I was never supposed to be able to do), sew, crochet, embroider, many other things that bring me joy.

What I can do with that dream is see it in my mind, and then write it down, and hope that one day a patient artist will make this dream a reality.  So that I can sit in another theatre, chair, world, and see my dream up on the big screen, and feel that same sense of wonder.

A Very Hestia Hobby

Posted in Everday Living, Family History, Hestia's Hearth, Munchable Memories, Old Deep Roots, Soul Food Cafe Fun with tags , , , , , , on 07/03/2010 by gwenguin1

Not too long ago, Christmas 2009 to be exact; my family made our infamous Rice and Tomato soup.

 No need to shudder, it isn’t a cream soup!!

We sent these as Christmas gifts to family members, since a kettle of soup really doesn’t work as a gift, we also canned the soup and gave the cans as gifts.

In a perfect world I would have sent the jars of soup through the pressure canner for 2 hours at 25 p.s.i., this world is far from perfect so we didn’t trek down to the storage unit and dig until we found the pressure canner, drag it back to the house, wash it inside and out, and then set it up.

RICE AND TOMATO SOUP

 1-2 quart bottles of V-8 vegetable juice

2 or 3 large cans of petite diced tomatoes

1 large onion, finely chopped

2 cloves of garlic, finely chopped

2 ham steaks, cut in 1-1/2 inch cubes

1 pound of carrots, thinly sliced

3-4 bay leaves

Water

Lemon Pepper to taste

2-3 cups of instant rice

In a large kettle combine all the ingredients except the rice, use 2-3 inches of water in an empty bottle of the V-8 to rinse the last of the liquid from the juice and tomatoes into the soup. Simmer for 4-6 hours, or until the carrots are tender.

Add equal amounts of water and instant rice, and simmer for 1-2 hours or until the rice pops. Serve with fresh baked bread and cheese, or good ol’ grilled cheese sandwiches.

The soup, when all the cooking is done.

Soup, ready to be et.

 

To can the soup, fill clean, hot quart-size jars to within 1 inch of the top. Remove any air bubbles and wipe off the jar before placing the lid and ring on and tightening the ring. When you have a canner load ready re-tighten the rings and fill the canner.

Cover the jars in boiling water.

Jars in hot water. (Iwonder what they did?)

 

Special tool, vital to job.

This is Special Tool # such-and-such.

 

Does a great job I tell ya.

Does a great job I tell ya.

 

Fill to within 1 inch oh the top.

I think this one may be a... just a tad... overfull.

 

Jar, ready for the pressure canner.

I'm almost ready for the jacuzzi guys.

 

Cleaned up and ready to can.

Just a quick wash before the jacuzzi.

 

Set the canner for 25 pounds per square inch, once the pressure canner has sealed itself keep a constant temperature and p.s.i. for 2 hours. Allow the canner to cool naturally( do not run cold water over it), once it has unsealed itself carefully remove the jars and set them in a cool, dry place for 24 hours.

Jars, after being canned.

Brrrrrr!! Anyone gotta towel?

 

Remove all of the bands and check the seals on the jars by lifting them about an inch off the counter by the metal lids. Wash the outside of the jars, label with contents and the date.

Shiloh Dared Me!!

Posted in Everday Living, My Inspirations, Old Deep Roots, Poetry with tags , , , , , , , on 24/01/2010 by gwenguin1

My friend Shiloh, a lot of you know Shiloh, dared me to write some forms of Japanese  poetry after I told her that I do not write good verse poetry.  I don’t class the Japanese forms in with verse poetry  because they follow different forms and philosophies the European-based poetic forms.  So here are the poems I did write, using the Senryu, Tanka, and Lanturne forms of Japanese poetry.

Senryu 1:

 Cat’s pawprints

Cross the floor

He’s on the hunt.

 

Senryu 2

Aching toes

Reach Heaven

With my dancing.

 

Tanka 1

 Laughter in symbols

Sorrow in harsh silences

Hope does not spring here

Love’s petals are withered, sere

Dreams do not flourish down here.

 

 

Lanturne 1

 Love

Blossoms

Silently

When it’s not sought.

 

Lanturne 2

 Hate

Slithers

Coils twining

Devours the Light.

 

These are my attemnpts, you can find Shiloh’s at http://sunnydreamer.net/2010/japanese-styles.shtml.  I hope you enjoy them, and find some inspiration in them.

My Holiday Spell for You

Posted in Everday Living, My Inspirations, Old Deep Roots, Stuff And Nonsense with tags , , , , , on 23/12/2009 by gwenguin1

I offer you Solstice Greetings

of love, peace, and abiding

joy.  Whatever Holiday

you celebrate this time of the

year, I wish you the best of

 everything, now and always.

 

 I wish for all of you a

lifetime of loving

and being loved.  I

pray you will

always have faith,

and a friend that

understands you. 

 

 May the God and Goddess

bless you with everything

you need in the coming

year and may you

always know

the benefits of faith.   

 

 I wish you a future full

of laughter and Light. 

May your family be many

and  your enemies few.

 

I may not be able to give

everyone precious to me

a Christmas gift,

but I can tell them h

how much I value them

and their friendship. 

 

Through the past 4 1/2

years you have

inspired, trusted, supported,

loved, scolded and

bossed me around.  

 

I cannot imagine a life

without you, for it would

be grey indeed.  In the 

brittle blackness of depression

you have become stars and

constellations, that delight

and comfort me. 

 

Each morning it is a

wee bittie easier to

choose to seek out joy

instead of sorrow. 

Every day it is a little

easier to live because of

your presence in my life.

 

I am here to thank you

for every second of it.  You

have helped me grow

as a person and a spirit,

as well as a creative being. 

So, my dear E-family/friend

I send you the

gift of appreciation.

Happy Holidays,

Thank you,

Now and Forever,

Gwen