Sparlin

Tracing back my surname (specific to MY genealogy, mind you!) suggests the following sequence of spelling changes: Sperlingham-->Sperlingh-->Sperling-->Sparling-->Sparlin.

I probably had an ancestor, Jan or Pieter or Niels, etc., who lived in the town of Sperlingham, thus, Jan of Sperlingham. I give this ancestor a Dutch first name, because his descendants later settled in New Amsterdam, and their names are found on the rolls of the Dutch Reformed Churches.

Sperling might refer to a fish--might! I've tried to track down the etymology, but it is ambiguous. If it does refer to a fish, I like to imagine that Sperlingham was along a coastline, perhaps a fishing village and that the great number of men were fisherman.

When Jan & family traveled to America, the name, "Jan of the town of Sperlingh," was shortened to Jan Sperlingh and so on. Some of the changes were, undoubtedly, errors, but might also have been personal preference. In one family, at least, from Indiana, the sons variously spelled their name either with or without the terminal "g," giving rise to Sparlins and Sparlings who were first cousins.

I am the descendant of one of these brothers who dropped the "g," and now with Social Security numbers firmly rooted in our society, there's less chance the spelling will change soon. However, a SSN, as immutable as that seems to us, is only a blip in history, and I have no doubt that hundreds of years from now, a descendant with a similar--but not exact--name will be squinting at my name, Kecia Sparlin, and making up stories about me, too.

Smiths

Why there are a lot of them...

In my direct ancestral line alone, there is

Anderson Smith; 15 children

his son, Vincent T.; 17

his son, George Washington; 14

his son, Elbert Columbus; 5

his son (my grandpa), Odie McBride; 6

And then there are all those great-aunts and uncles of mine, for example, Vincent's brother, John, also had 11 children. How many more SMITHS in that single generation?! It boggles the mind.

It's a fun family to research though, because they have all the best names, Andrew Jackson Smith, Narcissa Rachel, Priscilla Aquilla, Elbert Columbus, George Washington, Solomon, Serilda, Columbus Cornelius, Marcus De le fe, Luticia Oregon, and on and on. They tended toward grand names and to use colorful nicknames. I suppose when you have that many children, you have to get creative about naming them.

Heaps of Blessings

I wasn't sure whether to title this post 'Heaps of Blessings' or 'be careful what you wish for.' Since the day I hooked up the scanner and got the program running, I've been pestering my sisters for the pictures from the house, not because I'm particularly interested in keeping all the family photos, but because I want to scan and save them to CDs so they can be easily distributed to as many family members as want copies.

I just came home from a week-long vacation to discover two overly-large boxes of jumbled photos, no rhyme or reason to any of it, not by dates, places or people. In fact, there's also a box of lasagna noodles and a basket lid in one of them. It's a wonderful treasure, but...O, gosh, the mess!

Here's one jewel before editing (Estal, Dale and Danny):

Catwalk

With gross disregard for life and limb, I constructed this catwalk to reach the top middle of the wall. Here are a few pics of the first coat of primer. The final color is white, too, just not as stark. It's slightly more buttery, Behr "toasted marshmallow" to be exact.

I finished the first coat of primer today, but I'm not sure what I'll be doing the rest of this week because the MOST IMPORTANT PERSON IN THE WHOLE WORLD is flying in from NY tomorrow. I haven't seen him in so long, and I'm so happy he's coming.

Plans for Soup

Inspired by the turning leaves and colder weather, I'm planning soup for supper. I've had a butternut squash in the crisper for a couple weeks now, waiting for this particular idea to pop into my head. Originally, I planned to bake and mash the squash like potatoes, which is great, too, but today soup seems even better!

Recipe for--um, what shall I call this?--Butternut Cheese Soup!

I already cut the butternut into fourths and deseeded it, turned the open sides down in a glass, baking dish and added about a 1/2 in. of salted water. It's baking right now at 375F. Takes about an hour to be soft enough to mash, which is what I want.

With that done, I have to make the cheese sauce, a simple roux to which I will add shredded cheese, sharp cheddar, because that's what I like.

Here's how I make the sauce (this is mostly for Kami):

1. Begin with a melted fat/oil like margarine, butter, bacon drippings, depending on what flavor and how many heavy calories you want.

2. In equal amount to the hot/warm oil, add a helping of flour. So if you used a tablespoon of margarine, use a tablespoon of flour. This stirs up into a paste.

3. Now add a liquid; water (if you don't want flavor) milk, cream, beef, chicken or vegetable broth. You add only a few tablespoons at this time. Let it sit in the pan to warm before you try stirring it in. I don't know why, but I like to use a wooden spoon. The first "stir-in" is the most important. If you can make it creamy at this point, then you don't have to worry so much about how fast or how much liquid you add after that. Continue to add the liquid until you've gotten to the volume you want as your sauce or gravy.

4. Important: Taste and salt and season. I like pepper in gravy, for example. For stroganoff, I add paprika, etc.

5. You want to let this heat for a while so the flour cooks (uncooked flour tastes pasty) and the sauce thickens. O, and you can't stop stirring at this point. It's stir and serve.

If you use only butter, flour, salt and milk/cream, then you have what my mom called white sauce. She made it for nearly every meal. Now if I add shredded cheese to melt, then I've got cheese sauce.

AND, if I puree butternut squash and incorporate that, I'll have soup!

Oatmeal

Dad has forgotten how to make oatmeal, and Al never learned. I wonder, sometimes, how they would survive without me here to feed them both like baby birds.

When I discover two, large, failed attempts at bowls of oatmeal, Al says to me, pointing at the oatmeal box, "That's how you make it, 2 to 1, right?" How do I tell him that you have to follow the spirit of the instructions, not the letter? He wouldn't understand. "Yes, dear, that's the recipe."

I scrape the glop from one bowl into the glob in the other bowl and path out to feed it to the chickens. When I return to the kitchen, I add oatmeal to the grocery list. *sigh*

"We don't waste people..."

From The Pew Forum (via my watchful uncle's email)

May 26, 2009

Indian gay marriage law takes effect in Oregon

by Bill Graves
Religion News Service

A Coquille Indian Tribe law allowing same-sex marriage took effect this week, and two women married Sunday (May 24) on the tribe's reservation in Coos Bay, Ore.

Kitzen Branting, 26, and her partner, Jeni Branting, 28, who now live in Edmonds, Wash., became the first same-sex couple to legally marry in Oregon, though their marriage will be recognized only by the tribe.

Kitzen Branting is a member of the Coquille tribe.

Neither Washington nor Oregon has legalized same-sex marriage, but as a federally recognized sovereign nation, the tribe is not bound by the Oregon Constitution.

"My tribe recognizes the marriage, so that is really important to me," said Kitzen Branting. "Anytime we come to a tribal function, I know my marriage is just as valid as anyone else's marriage."

The tribe adopted a law more than a year ago that recognizes same-sex marriage and extends to gay and lesbian partners -- at least one of whom must be Coquille -- all tribal benefits of marriage. The tribe wanted to work out laws governing child support issues before activating the law. It took effect Wednesday (May 20), said Melissa Cribbins, assistant tribal attorney.

Kitzen and Jeni Branting married in the tribe's Coos Bay plankhouse, a 3-year-old meeting hall built in traditional Coquille style with cedar plank walls. No other couples have inquired about marrying yet, Cribbins said, "but I wouldn't anticipate this will be the only marriage."

Last year, Brian Gilley, a University of Vermont anthropologist, said the Coquille Tribe (which tribal leaders prefer to pronounce KO-Kwell) is probably the first tribe in the nation to legalize same-sex marriage.

When it was posted at OCICBW, Tracie the Red provided this wonderful quote,

"A Crow elder once said: 'We don't waste people the way white society does.'"

Every Year the Miracle

Honeysuckle and roses. How can it be that they bloom together every year?

Dad and I are simply in awe each time we step outside the door. My pictures are sad shades of the glowing colors of the roses, and there is no pictorial facsimile at all for the heavy, drowsy, drifting fragrance of honeysuckle.

"But what of the elegant, the exquisite, poppies you posted last year, Angel? And how go the zinnias?"

"Never fear. I'm getting to that, gentle reader. Post pending."

edit: exchanged cloudy morning pic for a new photo taken once the sun (Bless Her golden heart.) sizzled away the clouds; added a sunny photo of the red roses

Somehow Marie Osmond Found Her Way Onto My Blog

...it must have been love. Being Mormon (or Catholic or Heathen or Jewish) does not wholly define each or any of us! It's the reason I don't care for the word "religion," because it tends to categorize people into slots. We are so much more, and our individual, personal beliefs so much more subtle and complex than these religion packages. Marie Osmond shows what a classy lady and a good mom she is. Read here.

Wizards and Mages

Here are the Mage of Labyrinths followed by the Wizard of Rivergarth first walking through the labyrinth while thunder grumbled and rain threatened, spit, then passed us by.

Pretty in Pink

Dad and I have been enjoying watching this azalea bud and blossom. It fairly glows scarlet.

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This bush and I have a long history together and to watch it grow more beautiful each year is a special joy, as though by its success my memories grow richer.

The Projects Never End

Last week it was the pergola, still unfinished because we haven't found the right materials for the overhead slats. This week I installed a brick border at the edge of the pavement to make one walk wide enough for the lawn mower. Hard work--'nuff said. This weekend Artisan Al, my favorite construction worker, stone mason, hole digger, tree trimmer and all-around handy man, cut the bricks to add a little style to my work. Besides, all those geometrical figures make me nuts.

Nice right? There's not much he can't do.

This week I'll make a push to finish digging out the bricks of the old (and delapidated) walkway behind the house and hope that by next weekend I can have it ready for us to pour new, concrete walks. Did I mention that Artisan Al is very handy at lifting bags of concrete, too?

Labyrinth: Choosing a Site

I have the special honor in May of receiving an expert in labyrinths, the creator of Mindful Labyrinths, who happens to also be my uncle. I mentioned my desire to build a labyrinth at Rivergarth and also my previous difficulty, and he offered to help me when he's here. Yeehaw!

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He also suggested I begin a record of the labyrinth's development--an excellent idea if I can keep it up!

A pic taken this evening of a potential site for the labyrinth, this open space in the front yard.


I took this pic last summer. The bush loaded in pink panicles is the same as the large, leafless bush in the upper left quadrant of the first pic above.

Planting Zinnia Seeds

Rivergarth, April 20, 2009

Robert Orson Ryan

Genealogy research sometimes produces revelations. Like today. A little groggy with morning, I opened an email file from a distant Ryan cousin and suddenly my great-great-grandfather was looking right at me from out of the computer screen. It's the first time I've ever seen his face, never dreamed I even would see him and now he's here in my life; Robert Orson Ryan.
According to my information, he was born in February of 1846 in Illinois. He married a woman named Nancy, and they had eight children, one of them my great-grandmother.

A Heathen Child's Bedtime Prayer

Thanks to Rod for sharing this link.

Magnificent Mani
God of the Moon
God of Dreams
Protector of Children...

Help me to have no bad dreams,
Keep me warm,
and safe in my bed.
Hail Mani!

March Wears Purple Shoes!

Before March passes, I must honor it with a touch of Emily, the following poem especially since Dad and his occupational therapist, Kelly, saw a snake yesterday when they walked about the yard!

We like March, his shoes are purple,
..He is new and high;
Makes he mud for dog and peddler,
..Makes he forest dry;
Knows the adder's tongue his coming,
..And begets her spot.
Stands the sun so close and mighty
..That our minds are hot.
News is he of all the others;
..Bold it were to die
With the blue-birds buccaneering
..On his British sky.

Vintage Horseshow

Heritage research doesn't always involve sifting through musty census records. Sometimes it is about collecting and preserving fantastic, old photographs like these, bits of history, precious to me and my family. The top picture is of an old-time horseshow. The man in the white shirt and a cigarette, standing with his back to the camera in the lower right corner, is my grandpa. Even with his back turned, my grandpa is unmistakable. His style of dress and the way he's standing, especially the warm arm around a boy, either a son or grandson, the ever-present cigarette, the tip of his head, were all characteristic of him.

The lower picture is a close-up from the horseshow. It was only a happy incident that this clown was captured. Check out his mule! I bet the two of them gave a grand, ol' show.

I can't say where the show took place, but judging by the skyline, either Kansas or Oklahoma. Not knowing who the boy is with my grandpa, I can't tell when the photo was taken either, but if someone recognizes the years of car models in the background, maybe we can get a rough estimate from that. Suggestions are welcome, especially since knowing the decade might help me identify the boy with grandpa.

My grandpa around 1955.

Dad's Crash Helmet

Dad came home today. Thanks for everyone who was keeping us in their thoughts. This photo was taken today in his newly refinished room. He cried when he saw it. In fact, he thought the whole house looked beautiful. ...and compared to his living quarters over the last two weeks, it is. It really is.

Robbed of Peace and Vigor

"Scientists hope to harness them [stem-cells] so they can create replacement tissues to treat a variety of diseases — such as new insulin-producing cells for diabetics, cells that could help those with Parkinson's disease or maybe even Alzheimer's, or new nerve connections to restore movement after spinal injury." Read the full article at this link.

Parkinson's and Alzheimer's, both diseases which might have been closer to cures or amelioration if stem cell research had been properly funded, robbed my parents of peace and vigor in their retirement years. In my mother's case, she has lost even the sense of herself. I am duly resentful of the powers that robbed them and duly grateful that change is occurring so that others may not suffer what my parents will suffer to their graves.

The thirty years past retirement each that my father and mother offered of wisdom, experience and love, I trust, were a far greater gift to this world than a few, undifferentiated cells floating in amniotic fluid. As the great George Carlin said, "Not every ejaculation deserves a name." Shame on those who hindered cures for my parents, two hard-working, responsible, respectable, greatly loved and valuable human beings with much left to offer their family and the world.