Saturday, July 31, 2010

Taste Of Summer

What does summer taste like? Like the ice cream cone these girls lick at the Tolland County 4-H fair. www.4-hfair.org/tolland/county.html . It certainly tastes like a trip to the Uconn Dairy Bar and the Jonathan Supreme mounded up in a cup and drizzled with chocolate fudge syrup. The Uconn cows got up early to make the cream that is sprayed onto your Sundae so yummy! Don't forget to drive up to the Kellogg Dairy Center to watch a bit of milking. All those bovine beauties making all that delicious ice cream. www.dairybar.uconn.edu
If you are way out in the Ct. Quiet Corner get your licks at Fort Hill Farms new Ice Cream shop www.forthillfarms.com/creamery.html Any way you better lick quick while the sun is hot and make that special moment in your summer to enjoy ice cream at or near its source!

Corn on the Cob is another favorite taste of summer. We have had some mighty sweet corn this season due to plentiful rain and good hot sun. Corn loves the hot days for growing. Come by our family stand Country Stop and Goods at 25 Stearns Rd for some of the best Butter and Sugar corn you ever tasted. I put tonight's leftovers in the freezer and cant wait for a frosty fall day to make a bowl of corn chowder with it. Corn should be cooked and eaten the day it is picked. Be sure not to boil it to long and if you are putting it up for the freezer dunk it into a sink of ice water to get the heat out of it quick after it boils. Did you know that each kernel needs a piece of the silk to get it growing, so if you are missing a few kernels on an ear probably some bird borrowed the silk for a nest and left the bare spot in the ear for a reminder.

My other favorite taste of summer, Limeade or Lemonade - in that order. Crackling ice in the glass and a make it a tall one. Pour the Limeade in and add a sprig of mint. Total refreshment. A fun project for kids is to make Sun Tea. Put a clear gallon jar full of water and 10 tea bags out in full sun for a few hours and when you come back its tea. Kids really like to watch the color of the water begin to change. Staying hydrated on a hot day means drinking lots of water. Then when you have had enough, sip one of the refreshing summer drinks for the flavor to last.

Blueberry season came early and we are picking berries out in the yard each morning. I have to say eating them right off the bush is my favorite way to enjoy blueberries but there are so many good choices. My church just had a Blueberry Breakfast as a fundraiser for the 300th anniversary we are celebrating this year. http://pages.cthome.net/FCCMansfield/ Delicious blueberry baked goods, french toast and Blueberry sauce, oh it was all really good! Find some ideas at
www.blueberry-recipe.com/index.html

Eat up and enjoy these tastes of summer, before long it will be time for sugar on snow!

Friday, July 30, 2010

Mountain Dairy in the Family Since 1772

Our family came to Mansfield, Ct. in 1772 from Killingly Ct ( near RI line) they have farmed the same fields ever since. The farm has grown, especially through the 1950's as other area farms went out of business and were bought up. Now the fields are united as you will see in the video clip from haying this summer. We produce high quality dairy products the old fashioned way with continual care for our cows to see that they are healthy and happy. Mountain Dairy a Connecticut Century Farm.

How does Blogger Mobile work?

How does Blogger Mobile work?

here is a little instrcutional video on mobile blogging give it a try!

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Timpanogos Storytelling 2010 (:30 Spot)

Trip to Timpanagos? See what was captured there last year! You know you want to go in 30 seconds! Key to promoting Storytelling -Let them tell it like it is!

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

The Red Tailed Hawk

Have you ever had a conversation with a Red Tailed Hawk? As a conversationalist this Red Tail is much like my teenage son, if he's hungry don't bother, but in the right time and mood he will share something worth the wait. One of the blessings of living most of my life in the country is getting to know the Earths creatures up close and personal. Red Tail's story is one of many touching experiences.

This is hawk country, open field and ponds, heavy woodlands, streams rivers and when you are a hawk, hungry in a hurry a small highway easy picking as small animals try to make the dash across. So our skies are as busy as the sky over Chicago's O'Hare airport. There is a large group of Turkey Vultures, the diving run of the Peregrine Falcon, the twice yearly congestion of the Canada Geese in migration, there is occasional Osprey and Eagle sitings, and the smaller Sparrow Hawk maintaining the Sparrow families to a tolerable presence. Then there is Red Tail, he is the most verbal of the mighty fliers and the one who soars to pin point height and comes streaming back down to slide over the tops of the corn tassels and lift again on the next updraft. I could watch his flight all day.
Red has a sad mournful cry, he calls out on occasion always hoping to find an answer. He came to our neighborhood as a youngster in new territory and called and called never to have a friend answer back. Food and territory plenty but friends, scarce. I answered one day when his particularly mournful cry caught my attention as I did barn chores. He circled back wide and low and looked. He seemed to recognize finally that it was not another hawk , but someone saying hello anyway. We spoke his call back a forth a few times as he circled and tipped to look at the sounds source, a peculiar sound for the human form to emit for sure. After those few minutes he tipped his wing, and flew off in search of breakfast.
Days passed with no sign of Red, or I was not out when he was over the farm but on the next flight when I heard his call I quickly went out and let my whistle ring on the wind and carry to him. His wing and shoulder dropped and he gracefully spun to the side and dropped so low I could have counted the tail feathers. He swooped up and away and circled back to look again. It was almost as if he was saying "oh yea the human there knows my language too". After a few passes and a shared conversation of a minute or two he was on his way. This scene was repeated many times that season. One day I stood in the driveway, right in the middle, speaking with him in the high piercing whistle that haunts the sky, when he swooped in my general direction again and I got such a view of his stunning plumage. His tail dropped and he pulled up to light on the branches of the old apple at the corner of the yard and driveway. He called to me and I stood frozen still and answered. He cocked his head side to side repeatedly trying to make sense of this human form speaking. He hopped to another branch and called again and again I gave the answer. I hoped I said nothing offensive in my attempts to speak with him but made no motions until he again lifted off. Through the fall he came more often, spoke more and circled low and perched on occasion. Sometimes I kept right on working pushing my wheelbarrow to and fro as I cleaned stalls or carried hay to horses and let the shrill conversation lift to his ears.
Now I referred to him as my Red Tail friend and was pleased with his allowing me these little glimpses into his life. Some days I would see him but he had no time for me he was hunting and hunger kept him circling looking for that next meal. I understood there is work to be done by us both we can't always stop and sit for a chat.
Winter passed and the fifth season of New England was upon us, the one season I detest the most with little hopes except that it pass quickly - mud season. The only uplifting thing about mud season is that it usually coincides with sugaring. The annual collection of Maple Sap for syrup that heralds the end of winter and brings joy to my heart that soon it will be to warm for sap to run! In this particular year I was working with a group of children from the near by small city. On our last day together we were going on a field trip to see a sugar house my neighbor owns. The plink plink of sap dripping into buckets for demonstration of the old way of collecting was a reminder of my childhood. The modern green tubes webbed through the woodland carry a flowing stream of sap to the sugar house,this replaces the slow labor of collecting bucket by bucket. We had a fine field trip and all were in the car on the return trip to school when I passed through the place called Pleasant Valley.
From Pleasant Valley you only need to cross over the highway and you are in city, farm one side city the other and the children's school just over the line. I was right there when I saw the form on the side of the road. I said nothing with the small children in the car but hurriedly drove the last bit and left them with their teacher at the door, said I would explain later and my son and I left in a hurry. I drove back the short way and pulled off. Sure enough it was Red Tail and it appeared he had been hit by a car. The scene was easy to sort out a dead Cardinal bird was in the street and he lay half upright on the leafy verge. My son snapped the picture (above )from the car as I tried desperately to reach a friend who is a bird rehabilitator. Argghh! No cell service in that spot. I backed up the road a couple hundred feet, none there . We will have to do something ourselves. My son gave me his flannel shirt. Another car pulled up. They had seen him too and drove to where they could get cell service the same plan in mind. There was someone coming with a cage the injured but alive Red Tail had a chance. I told her it looked to be my "friend" she didn't question the relationship. I said I thought wrapping the shirt around him would secure the wings like a splint in case they were broken. She had reached a bird rehab a few towns away that would be waiting for his arrival. I let my shrill Red Tail call out a couple times and he looked less alarmed and dazed. He tried hopping a few more feet from us but I called again and again, he stopped and looked. I approached very slowly and soon we had Red wrapped in flannel and in our arms.
There is nothing to holding a Red Tail Hawk, they weigh nothing, just wind and feathers and a beady little eye that looked me over. I held him close the couple of brief minutes until the car and cage arrived. He was secured in the cage and off they raced to the rehab, the precious cargo wrapped in a shirt and my prayers sent that he make it. We even put his hard earned pray, the Cardinal that was to be his lunch in the cage so they would have his meat if he could eat later.
Waiting was hard but eventually a call came, the rehab thought he only had a concussion, he was one lucky bird! They would keep him a couple days to be sure he was stabilized then bring him back and release him. I was ecstatic my friend would be back and well again!
About a week later I had a call from my rescue acquaintance. The rehab specialist had released the Red Tail at her clinic ( also a vet) he was better and another emergency had come and there was no time to do anything more. He was beyond the bounds of his home turf the vet couldn't tell us if the bird would return or adopt the territory it was now in.
I waited wondering if the call would ever fill the sky. I was content knowing it was healthy and safe and that was good but I missed the special feeling of having a conversation with wind and feather. 6 weeks passed and a call from the rescue friend to inquire she was thinking of the Hawk, had I seen him....no.
The very next morning as I was out at the barn cleaning stalls a familiar call pierced the sky in jubilation. He found his way home!!! I can only imagine his making wider and wider circles looking for a familiar scene to lead him back. Six weeks of searching and looking over the woods and rivers of Eastern Ct. and he finally had seen the familiar skyline and rocky outcroppings of the farm he called home. He swooped into the barn yard in celebration and lifted high against the sun and disappeared into it. I tried to look but it was so bright. I looked all around then heard the cry form the other direction I spun and saw him coming across the long field and only a few feet behind a mate. There was conversation in the sky and I called back. He came and perched on his apple and looked at me but the mate chose a tree on the far side of the pasture, tentative and unsure of befriending the human in the barn yard. I called out and he lifted and tipped a wing as if to say thanks and they rose high on a warm updraft and disappeared.
I see Red Tail his wife and the kids on occasion. I think they use the double territory now and hunt a far 30 mile circle between where she was raised and where he was at home. They come to visit now and again and I hear the call in the sky. Red or his family circle the farm. On occasion I see them tip a wing and I am reminded of the gift I was given, to hold a bit of wind and feathers once.

Friday, July 23, 2010

A Hole In Time




We talked a few blogs ago about Civil War history and reenactments and I just received email updates now available from one of the calendars, so I have included the link for you. There are listings from many different states so there just may be one near you. Seeing an encampment is a great way to get a feel for the times and immerse yourself in their story. www.reenactmenthq.com/eventlist.apl




Those whose heart lies with the times of the Wild West let me clue in in on a great event. Cowboy Mounted Shooting is one of the fastest growing equine sports presently competing for the horse owners time. Riders old and new are flocking to the events and clinics and capturing a piece of our Western heritage. You can check http://www.cowboymountedshooting.com/ for a National listing, or http://www.ctrenegades.com/ and the http://www.masixshooters.com/ for events in the Northeast. One coming right up is the Northeast Regional Cowboy Mounted Shooting Competition. This year it will be held at the pavilion at the Tri-County Fairgrounds in North Hampton Ma. The three day event will run Aug. 6-7-8, 2010 starting with a Friday night 3 stage ( pattern of shoot). Saturday will be 4 regular stages and a 2 stage rifle event and a civil war stage. Sunday begins with Cowboy Church and is followed by two stages of competition and the awards. Come out to the fairgrounds to see the 1880's go riding by and learn all the fast action lingo to go with their competition. The guns they carry are real but they fire blanks( provided by the competition) for the safety of everyone. You can find one of these competitions near you!
1820 your destination year? Then try a day or weekend at Old Sturbridge Village in Sturbridge Ma. for a trip through time. www.osv.org No vehicles allowed so unless you have a horse or oxen pulling it the vehicle won't be encountered on the streets of Old Sturbridge. You can walk the dirt road up past the school and potters barn to the farm and see the animals and down to the village smithy where they are shoeing oxen and making iron implements. On through the mills along the river , carding, grist and sawmill all in working order and when there's water they're running. The inn has delicious food and then stop over to the general store, candle make tin shop and more. There are gardens and interpreters all along the way and a horse drawn stagecoach to give you the sense you have gone so far back in time that mass transit is 6 of you in the coach.
One of the special event weekends at Old Sturbridge Village is a Redcoats and Rebel encampment weekend and there are craft and kid weekends, holidays to celebrate in period and more. They have a new program to sponsor a flag and when you do, it also sponsors an inner city child to visit for a day, that's a great 2 for 1 deal! They are not all 19th century though if you want to keep up they will be happy to meet you on Face Book.

Monday, July 19, 2010

Time For Story


1:10 p.m. Time for milking at our farm Mountain Dairy ( http://www.mountaindairy.com/ ). We all have chores that are set by schedule maybe none quite so time demanding as milking cows. None the less we set up certain jobs for certain times and it is no different with our storytelling.


Making time to get things done is a battle we all fight on a daily basis and when we start to get a real handle on it usually Murphy's Law is invoked and the whole system is in chaos for a bit. We make time to do the laundry because otherwise we won't have that fresh outfit for the next gig. We never miss time for coffee, well we don't want to be around each other if we do! We have time for parties, time for pizza and Ice Cream! There is time allotted for the income tax annually even if some take until the 12 strokes of the clock in the bell tower on April 15 to turn it in.


Storytelling is all about time and there are lots of stories that deal with time, didn't Cinderella have to heed the clock as well? I make time on Monday's to update my web presence. Usually it takes both cups of coffee to get the job done. Sometimes its half in the morning and half at night, that's OK part of storytelling is being my own boss, I'm never late for Me! Scheduling my chores to fit my life at a given moment in time is a real asset, especially around the farm schedule where everything can be changed with a rumble of thunder.


Tonight I made time to listen to the Teller-Phone. Not the phone call that offers me bargain windows, reduced rates on loans, a great new roof or any other deal of a lifetime. This Teller -Phone offers me a true deal, a free story. Better yet I can call next week and get another free story, and the week after, and the week after.... you get it! Tonight I made a little time for me. I dialed 617-499-9662. There was the momentary pause as the circuits connected and a slight click of the line opening and the clear voice of Clare Vadeboncoeur. www.goodheartpro.com Funny thing was it was a Donkey story. I had just sent a donkey joke to my donkey owning friend. Earlier I had posted pictures of Donkeys to my http://www.A-MAZE-INGStorySlam.ning.com/ because some are coming to listen and be "All Ears! I had an email recently about the latest birth at Blue Hill Farm Franklin, Ct. another new black donkey.
This week Clare was the host for the LANES Teller-Phone. ( www.lanes.org ) League for the Advancement of New England Storytelling. Each Sunday a new teller will come on line and tell a fresh story. I've already put the number in my cell phone so I can call often. I can't wait for the look of surprise the first time I do that and hand the phone to my nephew or niece. Instant quiet! Just so happened for me the story was a perfect fit for the unexpected donkey theme to my days.
Next I opened my email. There was the weekly post from Library of America, a publishing house who sends out a new story every week to read. www.loa.org right on the home page is a banner to sign up for the story of the week. I'll be going back after I finish writing this to read my story. Sometimes I only read the bit offered on the front page, some days the story is a perfect fit I click through to get it all!
Now I have made time to read, listen and write in my day, it's been a good day. In fact they don't get any better in a storytellers world than to read a story, hear a story,write a story, next is share a story. When my son comes in I think I'll have to tell him the Donkey story from Clare and finish out the day right!

Saturday, July 17, 2010

Balance in a Giving Circle


We all are carrying somebody, and when we stumble there is someone there to pick up and carry us. It is a circle, an arc, a reach, a beam. Whatever your vision share it.

I suppose some people never seek balance, never think about the give and take, they haven't grasped the power. I can't remember a time when I was not a giver. Teaching the younger kids of the neighborhood how to ride bikes was giving. Months later as we raced down a huge hill I crashed in a sandy wipe out tumbling to the tar banging up everything from head to toe and scraping open a knee deep and bloody. Then all the kids came back, they pulled me physically out of the road onto the grass verge, just then a car roared over the hill and right over the spot I had been laying. It came back so soon the give and the take cycle always with me. I learned a couple things that day. Don't tell Mom you were racing on Trowbridge Road, and your friends will take care of you if you take care of them. I never road a bike on Trowbridge Road again!


Think about your community, who are the do-ers? You can name a couple of people who are bound to be there whether its a sport event, PTA bake sale, zoning meeting, or firehouse fundraiser. They all have found the power of giving and the wonderful people you meet. They have seen the circle of giving, how it all comes back in some other form to enrich our lives. It is a power we need to introduce youth to, for they are equipped to continue the good work we begin, they have so many technological advances and so much energy making giving a natural part of their lifestyle will create world peace a lot faster than current political machines can create it.


My daughters invited me to watch a movie with them, it sounded nice as I don't get to spend a lot of "down time" with them but I seldom watch TV or movies anymore I have so much I want to get done. " Mom, you're gonna love it , it's your kind of movie". We settled in and The Blindside with Sandra Bullock was indeed my kind of movie! www.imdb.com/title/tt0878804/ This is a true story of giving and one that will carry the message of Give to such a large audience it is no wonder that the accolades still resonate because the ripples that film makes will create waves later!


Today's paper carried the standard weekend magazine section USA Weekend, see http://www.usaweekend.com/ issue for July 16-18, 2010 the cover story 21 Small Ways You Can Make Difference This Summer; by the couple who inspired The Blindside. Two pages of national coverage on giving! The right hand column a list of suggestions to get the cogs loosened up and the ideas flowing. The last item is "Oct 23 participate in Make A Difference Day"! We can do that!


Storytellers everywhere should tell a story that day to someone. Doesn't matter , the who , what , where, just share a story and make a difference. We all have discovered the power of story so let's just let go of work , job, and me for a moment on Oct 23 and share a story. Catch the kids on your street playing, the elderly neighbor alone all day, the waitress on a lonely shift with no customers, the Mom with children whirling beside her. Give a few minutes and let it go.


Did you stop and jot the date, do it now pull out the phone or calendar where ever you keep your schedule. Oct 23 share a story with anybody.................don't forget to push save. Got it? Great! Make a Difference Day will be awesome if we all just share what a gift we have in story.


Still feeling the high from giving? Don't feel you have to stop at one story. You can give the gift of story again and again. You can also give to preserve the gift of story. The Ct. Storytelling Center http://www.connstorycenter.org/ is always in need of gifts. It is the heartbeat of Ct. Storytelling. At their website you can give a financial gift, or you can donate your most precious gift, TIME! Volunteer to work a Tellabration, become a volunteer at the Festival in April, send books for the new library, help us reach for the goal of a free standing home for the Conn. Story Center.


If the gift of giving is liberating you, continue to develop your philanthropic side. LANES, the League for the Advancement of New England Storytelling is our larger circle of storytellers and they have a needs list as well explore giving to Lanes and the Sharing the Fire Conference at their site http://www.lanes.org/ It takes a whole group to pull together the wonderful festivals and conferences where we hone our craft to perfection.


One more step NSN, that's a National Storytelling Network http://www.storynet.org/ if you are giving to them ( or is it us) just think how far and wide it can reach.
Don't feel you have to wait until Oct 23 , that is a reminder Nationally but giving can be perishable and contagious. So give it while its fresh and watch it catch on!
P.S. Curious about today's picture: sculpture on the quadrangle of Columbia University New York City I just loved my visit there!



Tuesday, July 13, 2010

At Atwoodville part 2 in Family Tree


The vault released so many vital data bits our heads were swimming with names and dates. For me at least there was the understanding of the sections of town the boundaries and the places mentioned. Laura was baffled by the geography of the search and relied on my clarifications for what was nearby etc. From a deed in 1820's I was able to tell where the farm was simply by the description. Not that many to choose from so we were able to add it to the list of places to go see. In the end of the day with minutes ticking to closing and with a ream of copies of materials she still did not have hard evidence that Daniel was the son of Ebenezer.




The Town Hall closes at 12 on Friday's and we packed up and left. Only hours left of Laura's stay in Ct. and so much to see. We met up with the family and I climbed in their car for an auto tour of their family heritage. We went around our farm and the University. We drove down to the village of Atwoodville and I pointed out the trail that leads to the ruins of early Silk Mills and industry whose birth was in the town of Mansfield. On this day with the 3 children in the car it wasn't the mills that were the intrigue it was the swimming hole in the Mount Hope River. Here for 200 years family members have escaped the dog days of summer with a cooling dip. Great Grammy used to tell of her brothers hoeing corn and shedding layers as they ran toward the river and the giant rocks, the leap and the refreshing water. Scampering over the rocks the children were soon in and taking turns sitting where the small water fall poured over their heads making a umbrella shaped splash about them. The giggles echo off the rocks and the time goes to fast.




Back on the road we have one last stop, the Atwoodville Cemetery. The children cool from a swim are happy to stay in the car with a movie the eldest , Laura's son comes to join the search for the missing link. We walk up and down the rows of markers. Laura's voice calls out with a catch, I found him. We all gather in front of a stone, it is the father Ebenezer Baldwin next to his a stone for his wife and the dates coincide. Daniel is buried in Wisconsin but it was said he and his wife lost 4 children in one week before they moved west. The children should be here. But there was no place with four small markers.I had sent a picture of one stone but it was not clear enough to read in the on line image. If we found the children and they said they were Daniel's it would indeed be proof. The stones next to Ebenezer and his wife are small and crusted thick with lichen and moss. From 1824 the plant life has had a fair chance to take hold. In the car I have a bucket, water and scrub brush for just this moment. Soon we are washing away the years of growth and there is the missing link. Four little children who perished in a plague buried in three graves with markers with their names and saying they were indeed the children of Daniel and his wife Serviah. Here they are buried right beside the grandparents and there is proof Ebenezer, Daniel and the children raised here and in Wisconsin are one family, ours! 186 years later. they are remembered and for us show the way, a link to the Mayflower and a history lesson these children will never forget.

Friday, July 9, 2010

In The Vault We Found........




The phone call came a couple months ago from Wisconsin. The caller, Laura found my name on the town website listed as the Cemetery Sexton and she was searching for records. On a long quest to follow her family genealogy she soon discovered the Mayflower Society and how to trace back and show your roots as founders of the Nation. Their acceptance is pending and the strength of the tie dependant on finding some pertinent dates for a few members of the family tree, and the missing link is in my jurisdiction.



So I get a few of these a year and know the town family names well so I ask , "which family are you trying to follow?" Her reply Crane, makes me laugh. "well hello cousin!" We discuss the lineage and sure enough the town isn't and never has been that big, it just has to be, and we find the common ancestor for indeed some sort of cousin we are.( actually my husband's side) She asks what I know of the Crane family, my husbands grandmother was a Crane, and we lived in the big farm house with them for 10 years. She was born on her parents farm and it is still there. Laura is looking for particular people and headstones, info and any dates that might help n the quest to put her missing Daniel here in Mansfield at about 1820. She thinks it should be at a cemetery called Attwoodville. Well that one is closed and I don't have the records but assure her it's not that big, I will go look.



I send photographs of a variety of family stones and what info I can. Finding John and Abigail's stones at Pink Cemetery dating 1765 and sending that along the grim angels from many stones staring out through time in the photos. To support her quest which is so close to completion they planned the family vacation in the east.



Yesterday towing the pop up camper and with three travel weary kids in the van they arrived in town. Laura and I headed to the vault of town hall and the incredible record of our town and its people. Dad and the kids went off in search of a hotel and swimming pool. We emerged from the vault a couple hours later when their closing sent us on our way. We found land and deed transfers, we found births, deaths and marriages. We found many references to Daniel and Ebenezer but no actual proof it is the one and only we are looking for and no record of dates of birth death or marriage surfaced yet.



I was paging through the yellowed text with the fancy script writing and the name Baldwin popped up, here is a tie we are looking for could we find him in the group? We have several sir names to follow depending on which generation and the women's maiden names so I am scanning lists looking for Baldwin's Crane's, Eldredge, Hall, Swift, there are a lot of all of them from 1690 on into the present. Here is a Daniel Baldwin and what is this roll of names for, why does he have a Beaver?!!!! I begin to really read the page and laugh right out loud. "your kids are going to love this....the family dog was named Beaver! Sure enough I stumbled on the record of dogs kept by the ancestors of 1860 and there was the Baldwin family owning a mid size black and white spotted dog named Beaver! How funny and they had to pay a $2.00 tax on that dog! Just for fun I read a bunch of the descriptions and bounding off the pages come long lost hounds, best buddies and herd dogs. So long forgotten and joyfully frisking in heaven but recorded and preserved forever in the town vault a testimony to man's best friend.



Today we will return to the vault seeking that lost link to the family tree, just a date or absolute record of our Daniel, where he was and where he went that somehow led that branch of the family out of town and into the nations heart. They didn't go so far that we can't find pieces of their lives and know that trotting along side the family was a faithful dog named Beaver!



After the vault today an auto tour with stops to see the Crane farm, the family swimming hole the old cemeteries, the general store, the church our farm where the family name continues in a sign over the barn door - CRANE BARN. Beaver is coming with me,there is a story there and I think I will work on that after the pop up camper heads west to Wisconsin and the road dust settles.

Saturday, July 3, 2010

4th of July


Imagine now if those fireworks we stay up late to watch were really the 'Bombs bursting in air". Can we stop a minute and be thankful that the ooo's and ahhh's are the response, not the screams as people flee the whistle of an incoming threat. It is a rare day in America when we have had to take cover.
Imagine if you will as the grill flares up and the smell of juicy burgers and steaks wafts across the neighborhood, the fires at Valley Forge in winter when General Washington was running out of food to feed his freedom army. Each day a crew went foraging further afield to secure firewood to keep frost bite away. One pair of boots to six men, taking shifts to wear them.
Imagine for just a minute the women as they parade arm in arm through the street for a right to vote, just to have a chance to have her voice counted. It is hard to imagine when so few turn out at the polls to vote for the local representatives. Where were the other 10,000 voters the last vote, they stayed home and will expect to have their complaints heard later.
Imagine a mother with 6 sons gone off to the Revolution. 6 Hale boys went, and son Nathan was hung in New York where people go about their day shopping and doing business now. They don't even realize they may walk past the spot he said his famous words. " I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country!" His body was never recovered but a few of his personal items were returned to his family. A small measure of gratitude, but one that lasted, the items still are in the family home in Coventry Ct. they remember!
Imagine if you would hearing a voice call from the battlefield in the Civil War. Wounded and under fire he lay calling for help for hours but it is constantly under the barrage of attack. Finally an officer under cover of darkness crawls out to the dieing voice, it is his son!
Imagine if you will a submarine in New London Ct. slipping away from the dock and slowly dropping down into the cool depths as the very pregnant woman on the docks waves goodbye until not even a ripple remains. Finally upon its return to home port, she is there once more on the dock and her son walks out to greet the father he has never met.
We have so much to be thankful for and to celebrate this 4th of July. Every 4th of July is special, but the freedom we enjoy comes with the highest price tag. So as we venture into the day with parades, music, picnics and of course fireworks, take a moment and imagine how it might be, or may have been. Celebrate our Independance Day with all the American traditions. We are the land of the Free and the home of the brave! Happy 4th of July America!