The Quest

A few weeks ago I wrote about "Mysterious Myrna." In the course of pursuing that line of inquest, I found myself on the phone for almost an hour with Harvey Derrick. Harvey is the youngest son of R. H. Derrick, Myrna's first husband. He's what I would call a "cowboy poet" and musician in his retirement years. Although Harvey didn't know anything specifically about Myrna, he was happy to know that I had in my possession a number of photos of his family over a 30ish-year period. Here's what Harvey had to say about his father: Your pictures are of my Dad, me and my brother Don. Dad was born in March 1900 in Marnard, TX and everybody called him "Tex." These pictures were probably taken in 1949 when my dad picked Don and me up at his sister, Lottie's home in Granbury, TX where we had been living for a few years. He was living in Tulsa, OK at the time and that is where he took us. He was married at the time and I can't remember what h

I was alarmed to hear one of our office volunteers talking about how her granddaughter's school does not teach the children how to write in cursive. WHAT?! How will they know how to sign their name? How will they read letters from their grandmother? Or the Declaration of Independence? Or many, many, many historic documents? I do believe that schools are doing a great disservice to our country and to family histories that are passed down through the written word. I understand that there are people who prefer to print. Fine. But what about learning the ability to READ what is written in cursive? If you don't learn to write it, you're probably not learning to read it either. This, in my opinion, is a travesty. If your child is currently in a school that does not teach cursive (either the reading or the writing of it), I implore you to teach it to them yourself. What kind of upstanding citizen can't read their nation's historic documents? Or their great-grandfather

I was just catching up on some of the blogs I've missed... perusing AliseWrite's weekly "Stuff I've Been Reading" and lo and behold I found myself. The first one listed this week was a post called "The Body I Have" by a blogger I've never read before, Dani Kelley . As I read her post, her "About Me" and some of her other blog entries... I was amazed at how much of myself I saw in her! She's ten years younger than me. I found myself wishing I'd practiced a little introspection way back then. I might be a different person today. Who knows. But I'm glad I've stumbled upon this young lady. And I'm glad I have finally learned some of the lessons she's blogging about. Better late than never. By the way, I share her desire to write more. I've said this every year: I'm going to write more this year. I am. I really am. Seriously. Quit laughing.

Show up on time to work. Get some more exercise. Go on a genealogy trip. Virginia? Tennessee? Take lunch to work every day... I'm spending entirely too much money eating out. Write more regularly. Maybe a blog-a-week? I still want to read 52 books in a year. I can DO this! Probably should look more intently at a second source of income. Freelancing again? I don't want to... but I'm not getting ahead this way. That's all I've come up with for now. I'm all about comfort and stability... but 2012 was an entirely throw-away year. I really must have something more to show for 2013.