The Quest

It all started one mornin' on Kef Mason hill... the workers had gone and the air it was still. Our brood was itchin' to get on outside, when there in the distance we saw a fox stride. 'Ole Roxy was chompin' to give 'im a chase, while red tail a-flippin' he crossed the fence base. At lunch a bit later I says to my sis, that fox he was Irish 'cause red 'is hair is. Well I can't seriously write a whole blog like this because I'm done with the rhymin' and droppin' my g's. But you get the idea. This morning after the yard guys had finished up, we were preparing to let the herd loose when I spotted a fluffy red tail following after a tall, slender fox. Inside the yard. The doodles saw him too, and my two were oblivious. As Kef was about to go shoo him away, I was preparing to close the dog door so the hoard wouldn't go after this poor soul. Before we could act, he slipped his slender body through the fence and out into the...

Since I was born in a town called Shamrock, I've always imagined Irish blood running strong through my veins. In actuality, my DNA only shows about 3% Irish, while my mothers boasts 37%. Nonetheless, when a seminar about Irish Genealogy popped up in a list of recommended events on Facebook, my ears (eyes?) perked up. Last Sunday, I spent the afternoon with members of the Troy Irish Genealogical Society (TIGS) learning about resources for researching your Irish ancestry. Before I headed to the East Greenbush Library for the TIGS meeting, I searched my family tree for all of the surnames and dates related to Ireland in my family tree. There were numerous Gays, a couple of Fullertons, a McGill, Sharp, Giddens... a Flowers on my dad's side... and a few peripheral people (i.e. not my direct lineage). In general, all of these connections were born in Ireland in the 17th and 18th centuries (dates ranged from 1678 to 1791), and died in various places in the United States... thus ide...