Tonight I am writing with a heavy heart, my sweet younger brother, Dave, left this world for the next. Today, as my family grieves together, all I could imagine was his reunion with our mama! I told family members, wish I could be a mouse in the corner to witness that precious reunion. Continue reading “Missing David”
Since this week’s challenge was to write about the troublemaker or the black sheep in the family, I thought I would play it safe and write about a distant cousin, a very distant cousin. The bad boy in my family tale was the son of a preacher. This farm boy fought in the Civil War, and didn’t like to curse. But this good boy gone bad loved his notoriety as an outlaw and even handed out press releases after some of his crimes. This infamous thief enjoyed the title of Robin Hood although no accounts exist of how he shared his wealth with those less fortunate. Eventually, his wicked ways did come with a price, for this outlaw, this son, this husband and father was shot in back of his head, murdered, dead at the age of thirty-four. Continue reading “The Preacher’s Son”
“Please excuse Ann for being late this morning. She has morning sickness.” Continue reading “A Country Western Singer, Mama, and Morning Sickness”
Mama would often tell stories about family. One person she would often talk about was her great grandfather, William (Wilhelm) Strassburg. William was born in Prussia on January 9, 1861 to August Fredrick Strassburg and Mary Eva Mudth.
According to the tales, William told his grand daughter, he came to this country when he was just a small boy. He told my mom that he snuck on board a ship and traveled alone. According to mama, he had a broken arm that did not heal correctly; he told her that he received this injury in World War I while fighting for his new country that he loved so very much. Continue reading “Spinning Yarns”
At one time or another, just about everyone in this country has been touched by a magical Disney moment. Walter Elias Disney started with a dream and turned it into a wondrous reality. Although he had some harsh setbacks, he never gave up on fulfilling these ideals, and today, his name is a household word, not only in this country but also around the world. Continue reading “And to Think, it all Started with a Mouse!”
About 1652, my ninth grandmother, Marie Anne Lagou was born to Pierre Lagou and Marie Boiscochin in the parish of Saint-Etienne in Le Mans, Maine. At the age of 18, after her father’s death, she left her home and sailed to New France under the sponsorship of King Louis XIV of France. Later, she would become known as a filles du roi, or a King’s Daughter. She left France to marry and settle in the wilderness in the New World that France longed to develop. My grandmother arrived in Quebec in 1670 with a dowry of 200 livres. Continue reading “Marie Anne Lagou: A New Life in New France”
When I was younger, I would often laugh at my mom when she would call someone by the wrong name, or when she would totally screw up the ordinary day-to-day information. One morning, this mother of five was desperately trying to wrangle her chicks, and get them out the door, so they would arrive at school on time. A couple of us had bouts of the flu, so she was writing “the please excuse notes” so that we could re-enter the realms of academia. The tired and overworked mother looked at me and demanded, “Is it 1956 or 1957?” The confused looked on my face triggered another tirade of words. “I know what you’re thinking, but I am tired, so is it ’56 or ’57?” Continue reading “Mama, Dustin Hoffman and a Little Karma”