Simple learning that Lasts

 We are always learning, even though we may be unconscious of the effort.   Lately I am reminded how often some of the simple, early  messages  are ever useful in my life. At the time I didn't realize I was learning important things for my future. 

 How about the multiplication tables?  I don't think they use that tool any more, but I haul it out of my mental file regularly for all sorts of tasks requiring measurement.  Simple division is another one.  I am glad that old-fashioned math works for me in my life, not sure I could manage the new versions.

 "Thirty days hath September, April, June and November,,,,etc."  That is another one. Think of the nursery rhymes that provides guidance, still, in behavior:  "one, two, buckle your shoe; three, four, shut the door; five, six, pick up sticks,"  and so on.

 The chants that went with learning to jump rope were a bit nonsensical, yet often held some instruction, as our nimble feet managed to miss the twirling rope.  Learning to count as the steps got higher and higher, was an accomplishment in more than one way, totally disregarding the exercise gained in the process. 

These simple tools and many others have spanned the years and continue to be helpful.  I don't need to wonder if the app on my phone will change or a new program come up with something beyond my understanding.   There is no need for constantly changing passwords.  It is a comfort to have something so enduring in the ever changing world of today.

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.