This week is an anniversary for this blog and its companion. The first post to Home Stories appeared on Aug. 11, 2006 and the first entry on Thursday's Child is dated Aug. 15, 2006. So a year has passed, and I have learned that blogging requires some self discipline, energy and creativity that I don't always have. But I'll continue whenever something needs to be said.
August 15 is also the birth date of one of my great grandmothers, Paralee Belle Morgan Paris. She was born in 1864 and she died in 1962 at the age of 98. For all of the 19 years of my life to that point, she was old, forgetful and eventually an invalid, but stories about her younger days are intriguing. When she was barely 20, she married a tobacco farmer named Roscoe Paris, of whom her parents did not approve, in 1884. Evidence suggests an elopement. She apparently was a feminist before her time. When her younger daughter (my grandmother) was born in 1890, she told Roscoe "no more babies." Belle had been the oldest of 11 and she didn't want to be bedridden from childbearing like her mother. The family moved to Oklahoma Territory in 1903 and became part of the pioneer settler movement that created the 46th state. I have much more to write about her when I get the 4 Great Grandmothers project underway. For now, happy 143rd, grandma Belle!
What's with the numbers in the picture, you ask? Well, Norm and I were in the Missouri Botanical Garden gift shop a month or so ago and we purchased the lovely ceramic tile numerals and the frame to hold them as an early anniversary (or belated housewarming) present for ourselves. Six years after our move to this address, we decided to upgrade and personalize our house number. So now you know where we live.
Back in July, my cousin Mike celebrated one of those milestone birthdays, and Norm and I went to Tulsa to join in the festivities. There were several presents, but the one Mike seemed to enjoy playing with the most was his new grandson, Jason, who was 6 weeks old at the time of the party. When I look at this picture, I'm reminded of myself at 4 or 5 years old, meeting Mike when he was a baby and falling in love with him at first sight. It's amazing to think we have both made it to this age. Happy 60th, cous!
Jason is a happy, friendly baby who took time out for a nap on his grandma Debbie's chest while the rest of us indulged in the barbecued brisket, pulled pork and spareribs that Mike cooked earlier in the day in his smoker. Now that's a rare man who will cook the main course for his own birthday dinner!
Jason even spent a little quality time with cousin Judi. Here he looks a little dubious. He's probably not used to seeing that much gray hair! We all enjoyed the hospitality of Debbie's sister Cari and her husband, Jack, as well as the company of their daughter Amy and her son Lucus (4 months) and Mike and Debbie's daughter Felicia and her husband Jonathon and Jason's older brother Kevin, plus Debbie and Cari's brother Tim. Debbie has some stories on her blog (Debide's View) about family and baseball which explain why Tim was in town for that week as well.
We are so glad we got to visit with all of Mike and Debbie's family on this trip. Mike and I grew up as only children in Tulsa, separated by 4 years in age. Our families celebrated holidays as well as spent many Sunday nights together. Originally I had four cousins: Jerry died in military service during the Vietnam era, and the two girls who grew up in California, Linda and Robin, have pursued separate life paths: I haven't seen either of them in decades, which I regret. For all practical purposes, Mike is my only living relative, and the only person living with whom I have memories of a shared childhood. So both of his grandsons--Kevin and Jason--are precious to me.
In subsequent posts, I'm going to look more closely at (mostly my) family history and trace some of the the Burch and Brown, McEleya and Paris family lore. I got a start on our return trip from Tulsa, as we explored courthouses and cemeteries in a search for two of my four great-grandmothers. But that's the next story.
This week is an anniversary for this blog and its companion. The first post to Home Stories appeared on Aug. 11, 2006 and the first entry on Thursday's Child is dated Aug. 15, 2006. So a year has passed, and I have learned that blogging requires some self discipline, energy and creativity that I don't always have. But I'll continue whenever something needs to be said.
