The Quest

Now I know I'm supposed to be researching the Stones, but the Gaults are tied to the Stones through marriage... so I'm in the vicinity of doing what I'm supposed to be doing. The family history states: After the [Civil] War, her (Kansas Elizabeth Gault Stone) mother (Great-Grandmother Gault) loaded her few possessions and three children (Cansas Eliz., Aunt Belle and Uncle John Gault) into an ox cart and came to Texas and settled near Honey Grove in Grayson County and that is where your Grandfather William Thomas [Stone] was born in September of 1884. Okay, so the census records show that Martha/Milinda Gault had the following children: John, Mary Jane, Kansas E., Belle, William and Ellen T. All of them were born in Tennessee. And all of them were living in Fannin County, Texas as of the 1870 census (the first census taken after the Civil War). So why does the family history only mention three children: K/Cansas, Belle and John? PS - Also of note is that Honey Grove i...

I am not a debater. I don't like conflict. It makes me uncomfortable, and I'm a lover of comfort. The last couple of days have turned in to debate, where I feared the consternation of others in response to my opinions. I realized that I really didn't want people to read my blog. I was afraid to post links to it. Scared of being judged. So today I'm retreating. I'm coming back to myself and the purpose of my blog. I'm finding comfort in genealogy and reading and music. I'm researching dead people who can't judge me. I'm reading humor that also enlightens. And I'm ignoring everything else. Just for a little while.

I can't shake the feeling that my last post about Chick-Fil-A was naive and largely missing the point. I feel guilty for eating at CFA, and it's not because of the calorie count in their food (I don't count calories anymore and I couldn't be happier about it). It's because my conscience is telling me that social justice trumps happy tastebuds. Ugh. I just hate that little cricket in my ear that tries to be my guide. This morning I was reading my blog feed. Alise of Alise Write  wrote a compelling item about why she does not patronize CFA. It didn't have anything to do with the beliefs of the CEO, but rather with the monetary support that the company has given to an organization that participates in anti-gay hate speech. Read the post here. I have no first-hand knowledge of the causes CFA supports, nor do I know what most of the companies I frequent support. But IF it is true that CFA supports hate speech, I don't see how I can - in good conscience - cont...

I've been reading a lot of rants lately about boycotting Chick-Fil-A because their CEO upholds a belief in "traditional marriage" and thinks that gay marriage is likely to be the beginning of the end of America. Or about supporting Chick-Fil-A because their CEO was "brave" enough to tell everyone. I have to disagree with everyone. Don't ban Chick-Fil-A. Don't ban gay marriage. Eat chicken. Love people. I don't think Chick-Fil-A should be banned in any city. Not if their only vice is having owners who are vocal conservative Christians. They have the right to be what they want and tell others about it. Now, if they were refusing service to gay people that would be a different story altogether. But they're not. So... let them do business with whoever wants to do business with them. If Boston and Chicago and whoever else really don't want them there, the stores will fail. Problem solved. They should be allowed to fail. Or succeed. I don...

I don't feel guilt about a lot of things, but one thing I can't ever seem to shake is guilt for not going to church on Sunday morning. I'm secure in my relationship with God, but any time I contemplate not going to worship on Sunday morning, I feel like I should have some verifiable excuse for not going. Like a doctor's note. This morning I woke up with a terrible pain in my shoulder. I've iced it, took Advil, stretched, massaged and slathered it with Icy Hot. It still hurts, and the pain is creeping into my neck. So my immediate thought is, "I should go to church. I could go to church, even though my shoulder hurts. But I don't want to. So... does my shoulder hurt bad enough  that it warrants skipping church?" Well, I guess the answer is no... but all the same, I'm skipping church. And feeling guilty. Maybe it's because I work at a church and depend on people (like myself) to support the church. It's my livelihood. If people abandon ch...

I don't think I've met anyone who would readily admit that they love themselves. Everyone I know has somethin g   about themselves that they wish were different. I suppose we all do. But I discovered some time back that I really do love myself. At the time, I thought I could love myself except  for how I look. I assumed there was something inherently wrong with being overweight. I should feel bad. Unhealthy. Ugly. But deep down inside, I didn't. I felt healthy (except for my allergies and a once-a-month hormone imbalance). I couldn't run a marathon or hike to the top of a mountain (and have zero interest in doing those things), but I could do the things I love... play in the flower beds, lop limbs off trees and bushes, walk quickly in and out of the grocery store, wander cemeteries for hours. I like my smile, my eyes, my hair. I like being a little bit messy. I like that dogs love me and I love them. I like being able to create things and research things and learn thi...

I follow several blogs. It took me a while to get into the world of reading others' instead of just writing my own and leaving them out there with no audience. I still have no audience, but I'm doing better at becoming a part of someone else's. I've just come across a new blogger to follow... Stacy Bias. One of her recent posts relates indirectly to my last post on Keeping Quiet . It's entitled "Insecurity: Imperfect & Unforgiven." Well-written and oh-so-how-I-feel sometimes. Insecurity: Imperfect & Unforgiven I want to talk about insecurity. Actually, I want to openly claim insecurity. I want to wear it like a badge instead of an anchor. I want to acknowledge that it has made me paranoid at times. At others, self-absorbed. I want to erase the shame in it. keep reading...

There have been many times lately that I have found myself keeping my mouth shut, my opinion to myself. I have a particular set of beliefs and opinions, just as we all do. But I am surrounded by people who don't agree - or at least my perception is that they don't. I have begun to wonder... do I do a dis-service by keeping quiet? Or is it okay to just maintain peace and not disagree with anyone? Does it matter if people know my opinion? Is it okay to just let them assume that I agree with them, when I don't? Case in point: I had lunch with someone the other day who was upset about their pastor's sermon that morning. I asked what it was about and she said, "Helping the poor." And went on to assert that this is further proof that her pastor "is a Democrat." In my head, I thought, "And that's bad because.... why?" Why is it bad to talk about helping the poor? Jesus did it all the time, and last time I checked this person claimed they are...

So I passed off the Edgren family, and found myself wandering around in cyberspace with no particular place to go. Luckily, Colby was on Facebook posting about his search for a connection within his family leading back to Thomas Stone, signer of the Declaration of Independence. What a noble cause to undertake on July 4th. Of course, I couldn't let that comment go without sticking my nose right in the big middle of his business. So I'm starting to try and trace the Stones to make a connection... or prove there isn't one. So if anyone knows who the parents of Matthew Robertson "MR" Stone are, please holler! It will save us some legwork. Matthew Robertson Stone :   Feb. 9, 1836 ( Tennessee) -  Feb. 7, 1917 ( Higgins, TX) m.  Kansas (or Cansas) Elizabeth Gault Stone (1855 - 1931)

I'm getting ready to deliver the Edgren family history. It's odd trying to find a stopping place in a never-ending project. Family trees never end. We never find all  of the information. So how do you decide when to stop? You could stop when you're stumped, but then that's no fun. Because this project was for someone else, I had to find a stopping point, and it had to be arbitrary. Basically, the stopping point became my trip to Chicago. I had visited the cemetery and seen the headstones that I could find. If I didn't stop now, I would be digging into this family's history forever and never be able to deliver a product. And so, the Edgren journey ends. For me, anyway. I do hope the family will find the time and interest to continue on without me...