A History chain, unplanned

 That title for this rambling of my thoughts sounds like it is going to be full of wisdom, etc.  That is not my intention.  It is simply that I am preparing to make a shift in some of my activities and it is causing questions to come my way.  Those questions have prompted this entry.  

    I have been the secretary of the County's Historical Society Board for the last six years.  It is a group of half a dozen individuals  who endeavor to come up with projects that will help the county citizenry, all ages, to become aware of what a rich historical heritage is claimed in this area.  It is interesting that the majority of the board are people who moved here as adults rather than having it as their home grounds. Now I am resigning, not because of lack on interest, but my age and problems connected with that limit what I can do to enhance the activities of the board.  I have not publicized my intentions, but I have given notice to those who need to find a replacement.  

    A question at our last gathering was that of when did I become interested in history.  My answer does not apply to this area, but the 'subject' as a whole.  Long ago I realized that I have had the interest my entire life.  As a child I was always pleading for stories about my Dad's life when he was little.  He would teasingly respond with, "you mean when I was a little girl?" and then I would get to hear stories of his growing up a 'real' cowboy on a ranch.  When my grandfather passed away I was 10 and there was a time that I got to sleepover on a regular basis with my grandmother.  She had been an emigrant from Lancashire, England when she was 19.  I sought more stories of her youth and life in the "old country."

    In high school my interests scattered out and I realized that I was 'a Jill of all trades' in the sense that lots of things appealed to me.  I loved English classes, I was good in Math,  music classes, art classes, etc., including history.   At this point my parents were looking into their own genealogy and I discovered that my father's lines took us back to the beginnings of the United States, the Puritans, Quakers, in the 1600's. Fascinating stuff, but I tucked it into a mental corner of my brain and went on with other  adolescent things.   However, one of my favorite leisure reads was that of history based fiction. Through the years I became more and more involved in tracing my ancestors past, not just their names and birth, but what they did, where they moved, when, etc. so that I could eventually weave a story together and get the feeling of knowing them.

    I got married, became a mother, drug my children to genealogy centers, until they became too many to haul.  History on hold, again. In 1981 the editor of the county newspaper phoned me and asked if I would be willing to write the rural news column for the paper.  With some reservations I accepted and he was pleased with my approach.  Weekly I gathered info from my village and contributed to the paper, hoping to make it interesting as well as true.  I really didn't think of it as being 'history.'    It was  just a fun sideline, a way of keeping me updated on my community.  I continued to write it, along with other news stories here and there, when I started to work full-time, teaching at the local high school.  Not history, family and consumer sciences, which I loved.

    Some years later I was given the opportunity to be the Ward Historian for our local congregation of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  The former historian was suffering some health issues and when I started looking at the past  entries in her ward history I recognized that she had been taking excerpts  from my weekly news columns  to tell the history of the ward.  She gave full credit to me, but I had no idea it was being done, or perhaps I would have made adjustments.  

      It has been a long time commitment to recording local history.  Upon my retirement from teaching, my editor suggested I write two more columns for the newspaper, both historical.  There are times I feel I know way more about the last 150 years than I do the present happenings around me.  I added the activity with the county historical board, and now, with that role in the past I will continue being a historical journalist.  A position I simply fell into, but definitely a part of me.  I  now intend to do more on my personal family history.  My audience is shrinking but it will  still give me enjoyment and these true tales will be there for  family members.  Maybe one of them will be bitten by the history bug, it can be contagious.  

Easters, many and varied

 With Easter coming up this weekend and the weatherman forecasting snow for our region I realize that I have had lots of snowy Easters, but it didn't take away from it being Easter.  It doesn't take away from the Holy Week.  In the long run, my Palm Sunday, the Holy Week, and all, it is up to me.  It is all up to me to Easter now, without my family, in whatever way works.

 There was always some family fun and there was always some church. In my younger days it meant something new in clothing usually a dress but maybe a spring coat and it might have a hat to go with it, maybe a pair of sandals. The dying of boiled eggs  and the hunting of them, generally throughout the house with it being too wet for an outdoors hunt.  It also meant Easter candy, but not the variety now offered.  This was more jelly beans, gum drops,  those sugary egg shapes that were about the size of a medium egg in lots of colors and at least one chocolate item, which might be gooey on the inside, or peanut butter or marshmallow.  Or it might be in the shape of a rabbit, the posed rabbit that was hollow, but had solid chocolate ears.  

    Easter was also a Sunrise Service at the Methodist Church, and Dad even came with the rest of us on that day.  No Daylight Saving Time, and I always felt it must be so very early, the sun just coming up over the hills to the east.  Now I realize it really wasn't that early.  But it felt special, even if we were trudging through the snow to get to the church.  The hushed feel, the reverence of that day  carried over, the rays of sunlight  lighting up the colored glass window scene on the eastern side of the chapel.  It was different from the weekly church-goings. Easter!

I knew there would be hot-cross buns at home after the meeting.  That was a part of my maternal grandmother's background being passed down.  I wanted my own children to experience hot-cross buns, the making of them, the story, the currants, the smell of them baking.  Not important really, just my feelings of heritage.

I loved the wearing of a hat, and still do, even though my hats are all stored away.  It really isn't a Easter thing, but that is when I was first introduced to knowing  that for me, a nice hat meant a 'step up.' A behaving as a lady. 

I loved Easter as the mother of my own family, trying to instill the importance of remembering Jesus Christ, yet still making the weekend one of welcoming the hoped for spring.  For years I endeavored to have hot-cross buns for my children,  until I had so many things to do--making Easter dresses for 5 girls and surely something for our son, dinner, eggs, etc, that something had to give.  And it was the buns that went after about twenty years.  Having changed locations I endeavored to incorporate the culture of my new surroundings, and my husband's families Easter activities.  

Easter is still a favorite time, a holiday of sorts. I still love to dye eggs, it has been a long time since I thought of a new Easter outfit for myself.  My priorities have changed and hopefully matured, along with my circumstance. The Inspiration of the week, the day,  has become more and more, of my own making, along with the interactions with others feeling the same.  Now I have lots of reading, learning more each year of the Real Reason.  We celebrate Christmas, the birth of Jesus, because of Easter, the Atonement and Resurrection.  As it should be.