The Lost Art of the Letter

I am by far much more of a fiction reader. It seems my attention span grows and I read much quicker. However, I also like to learn so I have come up with a fiction-nonfiction schedule. Part of my nonfiction reads include biographies. I like to learn about people who are only names to me. Their interests, their weaknesses, their lives. One of the tools most biographers use to peek into the souls of yesterday is through letters. Letters written by and to the person. It seems we can learn a lot – or as much as we can anyway – from their correspondence. This all got me thinking, how will the future generation learn anything from us?

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The Sad Case of Hi Bernard

I’ve mentioned in previous posts that my mom’s people settled in an area called Brown’s Park née Hole for a bit during the turn of the 19th century.  My ancestors were cattlemen, ranchers, and ranch wives (probably the hardiest lot of the bunch) before eventually moving to town sometime in the early 1900s.  I am trying to discover my roots and find out more about those ancestors so I have read a few books about Brown’s Park in the hopes I will run across an ancestor’s name or two.  My findings have been slim but that doesn’t mean I haven’t found other interesting stories in a colorful place with a bit of interesting history.  One that caught my attention is the sad case of Hi Bernard. Continue reading

I hate to inform you but history is not a concrete study

Sometimes two unrelated events come together and school you in a lesson. That happened for me a few years ago when I was trying to rise after a failure of sorts and needed some sort of affirmation that I could be good at something.  As I tried to find some validation I decided to combine two things that I like and see if I could make a go at it. So I combined my love of public speaking with local history and sought some outlet for the two. What I settled on was conducting cemetery tours.  The lesson I learned fairly quickly is that history is not as concrete as I thought it was.  Continue reading

Little Me in Italy: Part One


I was born with a bit of a wanderlust heart.  However, I was also born with a fearful mind.  In case you’re wondering, these two things are contradictory and one cancels the other out.  Usually fear wins because fear, as you know, is a big bully.  But I still had  dreams.  Dreams of all the places I’d like to have adventures à la Indiana Jones.  So when an opportunity to venture outside my daily living zone presents itself I jump on it.  In a cautious yet impulsive manner.

Let me explain.  For work, my brother, RH, was in charge of an annual community trip abroad.  He and his wife, CC, were required to go.  Two people I know traveling abroad?  Cautious.  Deplete my savings to travel somewhere that is not on my bucket list?  Impulsive.  However you want to describe it, at the end of March I found myself on an airplane heading to Italy for one week. Continue reading