Archive for the ‘Family’ Category

Rocky Mountain Christmas

Posted by julie on Thursday, 24 December 2009, 0:58

My grandfather, Uncle Eddie (step-grandfather, actually, hence the “uncle”), gave me John Denver’s Rocky Mountain Christmas album when I was three or four. It’s  my most enduring Christmas soundtrack. I’ve been listening to this song for the past couple of weeks, tearing up as I steam broccoli for dinner. I do yearn for family and snow during the Christmas season. Yes, I am 36, and I’ve only been away from home (my parents’ home) for Christmas four times in my life: when I was teaching in Thailand, the year I was instructing in Baja (and actually ended up flying home Christmas day), the year Sylvan was born, and tomorrow.

I am grateful that Sylvan’s paternal grandparents are here to play in the snow with us and create all manner of festive holiday decorations (photos to follow), and I am beyond happy that I am not traveling during Christmastime with two small children, but, ooh, that Christmas for Cowboys smarts.

A quick preview of our trip to Klamath Falls

Posted by jonesey on Tuesday, 24 November 2009, 7:40

We took the train to Klamath Falls this weekend.  We saw lots of cool stuff.  I think Julie is working on a post.  In the meantime, here’s a preview.

Door ->

Door ->

I love me some proper apostrophization.  You can always count on a gun den to read Strunk and White. Charles’s tonsils would be proud.

Chris's Gun Den. Klamath Falls, Oregon.

Chris's Gun Den. Klamath Falls, Oregon.

Brick Walkway

Posted by julie on Thursday, 23 April 2009, 23:31

When my parents visited for spring break, they (willingly, I hope) took on a great number of tasks, including taking my children so I could breathe and washing my dishes. Ah, luxury.

dad_laying_brick

Dad also made a brick path in our backyard leading to a bicycle-parking pad. Previously, there was a muddy “path” leading up to our sad little lawn moss patch. Now there’s a walkway, built with bricks salvaged from a chimney that was torn out during the remodel. The bricks could be 90 years old, and some bear the charred signs of their former life, containing the heat borne of a wood-chip furnace. The bricks are imperfect and chipped, and I’m really happy that we could reuse them. They’ll undoubtedly return to the earth more quickly than new bricks made especially for pathways. That’s somehow comforting.

brick_walk

The path is perfect for us, and I was quite happy to watch Dad consider it, pour the “decomposed granite” bed, and lay the bricks. No more mud and puddles. The empty spaces between the bricks are places where I haven’t kept up with filling in with gravel where it’s settled.

Newly confident after helping Dad a bit, I even tried my hand at the ankle-biting hole at the bottom of the stairs. This landing pad is disconcertingly asymmetrical, but I was lazy. No one was ever going to step to the left.

landing_pad

I’m still trying to determine what will happen between these sections of path. Will I just place a few pavers? Make some simpler, narrower paver and brick walks? Stay tuned.

Halloween, a Few Days Late

Posted by julie on Saturday, 15 November 2008, 16:47

The birthday letters are coming…

Here are some Halloween photos to keep you going:

I’m taking this one home

We picked up our pumpkins at the farm from which we get our CSA share, Winter Green. Sylvan and I rode down on the haywagon to the pumpkin patch, where the Winter Greeners had arranged the pumpkins to form a shooting star.

Some purple, some orange, some pink. Now mix it around.

Although it’s always my intention to carve the pumpkins, that almost always gets away from me: “It’s too late. I have rehearsal. I’m so tired.” Sylvan painted this pumpkin, then he decorated it with googly eyes and brightly-colored mini pompoms. Our new tradition. And HE can do all of it himself; no sharp objects required.

An elephant riding a tricycle

Sylvan told me that he wanted to be an elephant for Halloween. Okay, I thought, I’ll troll Craigslist and eBay; I certainly don’t have time to MAKE anything. Then I walked into Kidstuff, looked up at the display wall, and saw this little gem of an elephant suit for $12. Tricycle not included.

Elena nestled in her Tigger hood

Our little Tigger, tongue and all.

Chris as the Tooth Fairy

Lost any teeth recently? Don’t worry if you haven’t. If you look carefully at his wand, you’ll see he has some pliers to assist.

Too much blue eyeshadow

Glittery false eyelashes and too much blue eyeshadow — how fun. The little white velvet dress and knee-high boots pulled this go-go girl outfit together.

A Slight Correction

Posted by julie on Friday, 23 May 2008, 15:33

Mom, in response to my blog entry of a couple days ago, writes:

“It was BURNT matches, that is why you are such hot stuff.”

Ah, I can always count on Mom!

Found objects for Grandma Diana’s birthday

Posted by jonesey on Tuesday, 19 February 2008, 15:17

¡Feliz cumpleaños, abuelita!

Una Rata (atrapada en el ático):

rat

Dos lenguas (en dos de tus hombres favoritos):

boys with tongues

“Can I be of any help?” (memories of John L. Jones, 1921-2007)

Posted by jonesey on Wednesday, 14 November 2007, 1:03

A Birthday

Today would have been John L. Jones’s 86th birthday. He was my grandfather. He died on August 24.

Grandpa taught me many things. I took some of those things to heart, and I learned to do them so well that I don’t even know I’m doing them. Others, I learned to avoid. Still others, I continue to strive to incorporate into my life.

How to Take a Shower

Grandpa taught me how to take a shower. First, you turn on the water just long enough to get yourself wet. Then you turn off the water and soap up, cleaning yourself thoroughly. When you put shampoo in your hair, close your eyes gently — if you squeeze them shut tightly, the shampoo will sting your eyes. When you’re all soaped up, turn on the water just long enough to rinse yourself. Before you get out of the shower, wipe down the walls with a squeegee.

Only much later in life did I learn that this type of shower is called a “Navy shower.” You see, the way Grandpa explained it, this was not some unusual way to take a shower. It was the only way to take a shower. Clever marketing.

I tried it, Grandpa, I really did. I just can’t do it. Taking a shower like that is miserable. I have managed to figure out how to wash my hair without getting soap in my eyes, but that’s about it. I just can’t bring myself to spend less than ten minutes under that hot, relaxing, soothing stream of (did I mention hot?) water. I do think of you every single time I’m standing there, though. So if that’s immortality, grab it. It might be the best kind.

How to Tell a Story

Grandpa passed on to me, through my father, a propensity to tell the long version of any story. As far as we’re concerned, there is no short version. Or worse, we’re telling the short version. I think of him any time I stop myself from telling the extra long version that I really want to tell and preface the shortest possible version I can think of with “OK, here’s the short version.” The short version is always two or three times longer than it needs to be, and I’ve got a relatively mild case of it.

The root of the problem is that we want you to know all of the background information so that you can appreciate the story in all of its fullness. The symptom of the problem is that you appreciate the story less after we’ve made you sit through all of the preambles, prefaces, and prologues. We do it because we love you; does that make it any more tolerable?

The women in our family (Hi, Mom! Stop rolling your eyes, Julie!) have gotten used to it, in the same way that you get used to a sharp rock in your shoe when you’re carrying two heavy bags of groceries down a set of slippery stairs in the dark.

How to Handle Jehovah’s Witnesses

This is the audio from Grandpa’s memorial service: John L. Jones Memorial. It’s a downloadable (42 MB) MP3 file that you can play on your computer or iPod. (You might need to right-click or ctrl-click and choose Save Link As to save the file on your computer.) The story starts at 22:55.

Those of you who did not know Grandpa and might not want to hear the whole service should at least download and listen to his grandson (my cousin) Andrew Allport’s wonderful rendition of a Greg Brown song called Further In. How he made it all the way through, I will never know. It starts at 8:50 in the above file, or you can download the song by itself here. I’ve been playing it again and again. It always surprises Julie to see me cry.

four jonesey, November 2006

Four Joneses (John, Tom, Chris, and Sylvan). November 2006.

April Showers Bring May Mormons

Posted by jonesey on Monday, 8 October 2007, 12:01

Julie’s post about her family inspired me to get on the web to see if I could learn anything about family members in generations earlier than the ones for which she has pictures. I had no idea what I was getting into. If you want the short version, here it is: it took me about five minutes of clicking to get back to the Mayflower. Goodness.

And I owe it all, of course, to the Mormons. That’s right, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. They are obsessed with genealogy, and they put it all up on the web.

So, without further ado, we traced it back like this:

Julie Polhemus

Julie’s father, Richard Polhemus

Richard’s father, John Alexander Polhemus

John’s mother, Julia Hanna Polhemus

Julia’s mother, Ada Preston Hanna

That’s as far as Julie’s pictures go. Pretty good so far. I went to the LDS Family Search web page and typed in “Ada Preston” and “Dover, NY”. And up she came, just like that: Ada Preston, born 1859, Dover, New York; died 1926, Poughkeepsie, New York.

The page lists her parents and her husband, John A. Hanna. Each person’s name is a clickable link. Here’s Ada Preston.

From there, it was just a matter of clicking on links. Watch this:

Ada’s father, Henry M. Preston (1830-1900; born and died in Dover, NY)

Henry’s mother, Sarah M. Ward (1805-1882; born and died in Dover, NY)

Sarah’s mother, Anna Soule (1774-?; born Beekman’s Pct, Dutchess Co., NY)

Anna’s father, Nathan Soule (1738-?; born Dartmouth, MA)

Nathan’s father, George Soule (1709-1793; born and died in Dartmouth, MA)

George’s father, Nathan Soule (born 1675-1680, Dartmouth, MA; died 1738, Dartmouth, MA)

Nathan’s father, George Soule (born 1625-1639, Plymouth, MA; died 1704, Dartmouth, MA)

Wait a minute, did you say Plymouth, Massachusetts? In the 1620s or 1630s?

Let’s try George’s father. Something tells me that he wasn’t born in Massachusetts.

George’s father was also named George Soule. According to the LDS records, he was born between 1593 and 1600, in Eckington, Worcester, England. He died in 1679 in Plymouth, Massachusetts. He was married to Mary Bucket (or perhaps Becket, Buckett, or Beckett).

Now we go back to Google and type in “Mayflower passengers.” Good old Google gives us the goods in the first link. Sure enough, George Soule was one of the passengers on the Mayflower. According to the web page, he married Mary Buckett (flexible spellers, these folks) and had at least nine children who survived into adulthood. Including George.

To sum up: one of Julie’s great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfathers was one of 102 passengers on the Mayflower. That’s ten greats, twelve generations back in just a few minutes of clicking.

Wow. I think I might be starting to like this web thing.

And if that weren’t enough, I have it on good authority that I can trace my family tree back to William Brewster, another passenger on the Mayflower. I bet those helpful Mormons will be able to assist me with that one as well.

One note: In doing a bit of side research, I came across a number of notes warning about the veracity of these records, since they are mostly submitted by humans whose research is unverifiable. Wise researchers suggest using the records as a starting point. Genealogy research is loaded with false leads and hard-to-verify information. Nevertheless, this was pretty neat.

Illustrated Family Tree

Posted by julie on Sunday, 30 September 2007, 13:49

Dad’s family, displayed on the wall

When my Gramma Gertrude passed away nearly four years ago, I asked for these photos that hung on her bedroom wall. They’ve been on the plate rail in our dining room for two years, and, on Friday, I arranged them according to what branches they inhabit on my family tree.

The little smiling cherub on the bottom is my Dad, and, on viewer’s left is a toddler photo of Gramma Gertrude, complete with side curls and a crocheted sweater, pointing at something fascinating over the photographer’s shoulder. Her parents, George Fisher and Ethel Violet Pilch Fisher, or Nana, are on the left. Nana lived with Gramma when I was little, rocking in her chair in the kitchen at Gramma’s gorgeous house on School Street, and she passed away when I was eight.

Above Nana, going clockwise, are George Fisher’s parents, Grandpa & Grandma Fisher, as Gramma Gertrude’s note says, leaning on a rather ornate column. Her name was Anna, and I’ll defer to Dad and Uncle John to fill in his name. Clockwise and up a bit are Nana’s parents, Robert Owen Pilch and Mary Ann Monement Pilch, rocking on the porch. Mary Ann looks exactly like her daughter would when I knew her years later. I believe Mary Ann was blind, and I think my Dad told me he remembers being in her kitchen as she was cooking and singing.

10/7: Regarding Grandpa & Grandma Fisher, from Dad: “My grandfather Fisher’s father was named Johannes Fischer—a Swiss immigrant. He and Anna (who was German) lived in Hermann, Missouri—a German-speaking community on the Missouri River, founded by Socialists in the 1840’s—It is now famous as a wine-growing tourist destination. Johannes lost an eye in the Civil War—he fought on the Union side–Missouri was about 50/50 in the war. Grandpa Fisher dropped the “c” during the First World War—there was strong anti-German prejudice at the time.”

On viewer’s right of my agreeable little Dad, who has a little curl “right in the middle of [his] forehead,” are his father, John Alexander Polhemus, with his parents, Julia Hanna Polhemus and George Warren Polhemus. Moving counter- clockwise, George’s parents are above him and to the right; they are Mathias Van Dyke Polhemus and Eliza Warren Polhemus. Up and to the left are Julia’s parents in the separate photographs, John A. Hanna with the astonishing moustache and his wife, Ada Preston Hanna. John Hanna was a New York assemblyman and head of Dutchess County’s Republican Party.

Okay, we’re ready for photos of the ancestors of our three other parents. I’ve thrown down the gauntlet. I’ll find some wall space.

Happy Birthday, Gramma.

Something Gramma Mia taught Sylvan last week

Posted by jonesey on Thursday, 27 September 2007, 21:09

While Julie and I were in Alaska, Gramma taught Sylvan the proper way to say goodnight. Or so I had heard. I wanted to find out for myself.

So tonight, after we brushed our teeth, had some cow milk, and read a truck book, I walked to the door, closed it most of the way, and said “Good night, lovey-dovey.” Just like Gramma Mia.

Sylvan looked right at me and said “Good night, lovey-dovey Gramma.” And blew me a kiss.

Good job, Gramma.