Monday, February 26, 2018

The Mysterious Surname...

Surname - that final name that we use in identifying ourselves, our "last name." What I have come to discover, in my geek realms of genealogy and genetics, is that neither me nor my husband have surnames that connect us to our true ancestors!

For starters - I am, originally, Beth Ann McLaughlin, who shouldn't be a McLaughlin. Digging through the past, I uncovered that my great grandfather wasn't the biological son of a McLaughlin, but a Smitley! Then there is the Wilkins who wasn't really a Wilkins, she was just owned by one. (This comes with the discovery that my great x 3 grandmother was a "mulatto" slave, born in 1847, and given the surname of her North Carolina plantation owner.) On my mother's side, there were the Warners, that should have been Blum. (Well, the maiden name of Blum. My German to English dictionary translated the unknown word on the birth certificate to "illegitimate" - so, as to the father's surname, who knows?!)

My husband was born with the last name "Rose" - however, his biological father's biological father was really a Howe, but given the name Rose to match his many older siblings. The biological father of my husband's mother wasn't really a Walker, but a Newton. When he gives his last name and mother's maiden name, both are technically incorrect.

As for our children - all Roses that should have been Howes, born to a mother who was a McLaughlin, but should have been Smitley?! Again, another "my last name and mother's maiden names aren't technically correct" kind of thing. No offense to any Smitley or Howe surname readers, but I prefer McLaughlin and Rose - maybe it is merely because I am used to these, but I do. All of this to say - how sure are you about your biologically correct surname? :)




Tuesday, February 20, 2018

The unusual use of ground coffee...

     The "Edgerly" gene strikes again! In "The genetics of a klutz," I mentioned a couple "unique" ways I have hurt myself in the past, but failed to disclose one that my mom replicated this past weekend. 

     Back in 1999-2000 I worked at the Stanley Hotel in Estes Park, CO. (Yes, the one that inspired Steven King and where "The Shining" was filmed…and no, I did not see any ghosts or supernatural happenings!). It was a Saturday night and I was serving in the ballroom at an expensive wedding. The lovely aroma of freshly baked bread filled the kitchen as we picked up the metal baskets to be served. Setting down the second basket, my pinky finger brushed past the metal and the tip of said finger fell into the bread. Before the guests could view the bloody flesh, I retrieved the basket and returned to the kitchen. Cutting the tip of a finger off on the edge of bread basket - now, that takes talent (or a heavy dose of the klutzy Edgerly gene)! 

     After my quick exit, I wrapped up the finger. Napkins and towels turned red and were discarded. One of the men washing dishes came rushing up with something in his hand - a small pile of ground coffee. In broken English and massive gesturing, he tried to communicate my need to pack the pile onto my open wound. "It stop bleed," he urged. Ok, sure, why not. Low and behold - success! (The science of it being the caffeine in the coffee narrows the blood vessels and slows the bleeding.) I taped up the ground coffee plastered pinky and went back to work.

     Fast forward 18 years, to last weekend. "I just cut the tip of my left thumb off and nail!!! Stitches are impossible." The text vibrated my phone. My loving response to said text: "Seriously, Mom - my weird injuries club is exclusive and I don't recall inviting you!" Of course, it was quickly followed by the advice to clean the wound well, pack in ground coffee, and saturate them with melaleuca and lavender oils. Again, success, AND a reason to always have ground coffee in the house. (Not that this java lover ever needed a reason to keep bags on hand, but still.)

Thursday, February 15, 2018

There's an alligator on the bank...

Upon arriving in our new Florida home, we gathered on the pretentiously named lanai and spotted him. Sunbathing in the September rays, on the far side of our lake - the large alligator. My kids named him "Frank" - Frank of the bank! My youngest wanted Frank to be "our pet." She claimed he would know she loved him and let her pet him. Um. "No, Frank would eat you!"

Rewinding time - in the 1980s, our family would drive down to Florida to visit my great grandparents, who were enjoying their Spring Hill retirement.. One of my favorite places to visit was Weeki Wachee, a haven of birds and reptiles, fascinating wildlife shows, and mermaids. Ok, not real ones, but excellent swimmers donning mermaid costumes, sneaking small breaths of oxygen from tubes hidden in the scenery.

During our first month in Florida, I brought the kids to visit that beloved place. Although there were less shows, it was nearly identical to my memory - frozen in time. What does this have to do with Frank of the bank? The reptile show - still running strong and featuring a young gator and animal safety. Allow me to educate you on simple alligator safety.
1. Don't feed them! Alligators are not born to attach and eat humans, they fear them. It all starts with one brave gator, more desiring the sunshine than his safety from the humans nearby. Said humans decide to throw him some marshmallows, which he gobbles down happily. Next, it is Mrs. Harris's toy poodle walking by - "Yum, there is another marshmallow to eat!" Uh oh. Then, the little kid in the white t-shirt and shorts. Aggressive behavior towards humans is learned, not natural - so, DON'T feed the gators!
2. If an aggressive alligator decides to chase after you, run in a straight line! Whoever told us to zig-zag was completely wrong. Alligators have eyes on the sides of their heads, not the fronts - so, that zig-zag pattern will only keep you in their sites. Running in a straight line requires the gator to move its head side-to-side, which slows him down…sort of. Alligators can run up to thirty miles per hour, but only for short distances.
3. If there is a pool of water in Florida, whether at a resort or your backyard, there is most likely an alligator in or near it - so, don't swim in the lakes!
4. The completely optional advice, meant as a joke from our Weeki Wachee ranger instructor, always be with someone who runs slower than you. Har Har.

Much to my youngest's despair, Frank never has become our pet. However, he is entertaining to watch sunbathing on the bank or sloooooowwwwllly making his way across the lake, little eyes and spots of spine peeking up from the water. Frank of the bank is true to his name today, but dipping back into the cool water - so, see you later, alligator!
Frank of the bank. He was far away, so he doesn't look his size,  but  this guy is over 7 feet long!




Tuesday, February 13, 2018

Mining for gold...


My father-in-law has a passion for mining - sifting through the dirt and muck to uncover treasures buried within. He has discovered some truly interesting gems, rocks, and even gold. The formation of these things has always fascinated me - how years and pressure, exact compounds and elements, all slowly become things of beauty.
The concept of rock formations parallels to many aspects of life, if we consider it…relationships, for instance. Rarely do we see the remarkable inner beauty of a person when we first meet. Relationships that become the gems of our lives are made over time, sometimes through the pressures of life - they withstand the years without cracking and crumbling into dusty pieces. 
Then, there is writing. The creation of characters, dialogue, and a plot that pulls at the heart strings of readers…it takes time, a compounding of elements, to slowly become a thing of beauty. It is also a mining process - sifting through the muck of the mundane to find the treasures worth keeping, buffing and polishing before it's ready to display. 
Gear up, writers! Put on the wading boots and get ready to work - there are creations of beauty to be found!
Happy Valentines to you all!

Wednesday, February 7, 2018

Genetics of a klutz…

Growing up, there was a saying in our house. Whenever a water glass was spilled or something broke: "There's an Edgerly in the house!" Named after my great grandfather, Eugene Edgerly, it became synonymous to klutz - you know, the person who drops things, shatters glass, accidentally cuts themselves on the oddest things…the klutz. As if the trait is genetically bound, hereditarily unavoidable - the Edgerly klutz. I clearly have it. If there is an odd way to get hurt, expensive thing to break, or important papers in a tall stack to soak with water - I'm your gal. How many people can say they broke their sesamoid bone (tiny one, under the big toe of the foot) while SITTING on a barstool in their kitchen? Or, how about spraining my ankle INSIDE a ski boot on the way down a slope in Aspen?

Both of my daughters seem to "inherit" this unique ability, this klutzy quirk. Sitting on my dresser are 4 broken glass items, waiting to be repaired, all thanks to my youngest. We named the week of January 15th- "the week of the blood pools." My eldest's foot manage to find a stray tin lid. "Um, Mom - she is bleeding to death," my overly excited son informed me. Maybe not to death, but slicing off part of the big toe really does make the floor red! Later on, she stepped on a piece of broken glass. (Actually, this one was thanks to my husband dropping a glass on the tile. Hm. Maybe he has the "gene" as well?) Same foot, different place - time to pull out the grout cleaner again.

We have genetic coding for a myriad of things - from hair and eye color, earlobe shapes, predisposition for addictive traits, and disease…so, maybe there is a gene for klutziness. Just kidding - I highly doubt it. Still, it would make for a better excuse, right?


Unfortunately, this one didn't make it onto the "fix it" pile on my dresser - this Edgerly chipped the front tooth climbing on the counter! Off to the dentist!

Friday, February 2, 2018

The power of the small...

I do sickness gracefully - it is an art I learned during my near three years of chemotherapy and radiation. Aches, pains, viruses…breaking body parts, shots into the bone, muscles, spinal chord, veins….surgeries, procedures, sprains, pulled and torn ligaments and tendons…all of that with (mostly) the grace of Mother Theresa. However, I have a proverbial Achilles heel - my cryptonite - throwing up. Yep. Give me a stomach bug or food poisoning, a batch of gag-inducing medications, and I am a complete mess. Perhaps it stems from the reaction to various chemotherapies, a long term psychological effect from nausea, shaking, and holding onto to the coolness of the porcelain throne (um, toilet). Regardless - I am the opposite of grace when it comes to nausea and vomiting!

With all the stomach bugs making their rounds through the population (Purple a victim of such), I was thinking. Drives to doctor's offices without kids arguing or giggling in the back seat allow for such times of contemplation! These "bugs" are microscopic, unseen by the human eye, yet they wreak havoc on our health! Viruses and bacteria - teeny, tiny things that can take the grown man from health to the hospital in a matter of days. In doing General Science with my older two kids, we are learning about the five kingdoms: Monera, Protista, Fungi, Plantae, and Animalia. Bacteria belongs to the Monera kingdom - a prokaryotic cell (no distant membrane-bounded organelle) - so small, so powerful. (Viruses, oddly, don't fall into any of those kingdoms!)

To be even more contemplative - there is power in the small, the unseen. Adolf Hitler was an art reject, barely surviving in Vienna - yet he rose to lead a conquering nation and was responsible for World War II and the killing of millions. Jesus Christ was the son of poor carpenter and teenage mother, yet birthed the now world-wide faith of Christianity! A small size or lack of importance doesn't mean lack of power. Like the bacteria or virus that spreads through families, a single person can influence the world. Ok, maybe not exactly alike, but you get the idea, right?

(PS - a quick hello to my German and Russian readers - thank you for consistently stopping by for a view!)