My ancestors, they hail from . . . the redlands of Texas . . . and the marshes of Maine . . . the plantations of Georgia . . . and the courts of Spain . . . and from a hodgepodge of places . . . betwixt and between . . .
My reason for setting up the interwoven blogs listed below (starting in March of 2008) was to talk about them . . . those who came before . . . the ancestors . . . and their kith 'n kin . . . to find and to tell their stories . . . to make sure that those begotten are not forgotten . . .
My main blog is the one where you are reading this page . . . benotforgot.blogspot.com . . . aka benotforgot.com . . . but like any good family tree, this blog has several branches, including . . .
- benotforgot-journal.blogspot.com where I am transcribing the 1860-1866 daily journal of James Madison Hall (1819-1866)
- benotforgot-quotes.blogspot.com where I share quotes that have something to do with family and genealogy
- benotforgot-calendar.blogspot.com which is now on hiatus, but which still contains lots of timeline info
And then there's my hometown blog . . . Rockdale-myhometown.blogspot.com . . . where I am sharing tidbits of information in a timeline format about an area where my kith 'n kin have lived since the 1870s . . . which also happens to be where I grew up . . .
Pastymes that have come and gone in my life have included (but not been limited to) . . . counted cross-stitch (creation as well as design) . . . tatting . . . photography . . . videography of dirt-track races . . . horseback riding (including the Texas Sesquicentennial Wagon Train) . . .
We sold our horses after my late husband became obsessed with dirt-track racing around the time he turned fifty . . . I have red-headed goats . . . and a well-loved poodle named Riley (he was spoiled rotten by my husband) . . . also a cat family (including some with bob-tails) . . .
And through it all, there has always been genealogy . . . I cannot remember a time when I was not asking questions about family . . . mayhaps I was somehow influenced by the fact that I grew up next door to my paternal grandma . . . or the fact that my Mom (born in Massachusetts) was mostly raised by her paternal grandparents in Texas . . . or that we frequently spent Sunday afternoons visiting with my Dad's maternal grandma and various kith 'n kin . . . or mayhaps, as the poem says, I am "the one" . . .
The one who seems called to find the ancestors . . . to put flesh on their bones and make them live again . . . to tell the family story and to feel that somehow they know and approve . . .