Happy Halloween 2012

I'm a little disoriented this week what with the storm interrupting my usual careful attention to the holiday.  I'll say Happy Halloween and hope you are all safe and dry as I believe you are.  The news media has been talking a great deal about "Frankenstorm" but I'll tell you what Perfect Storm is brewing.  Those of you that teach already know what I'm talking about.  I challenge those of you that do not teach to walk into a school this week (allow me to suggest middle school) and face the outcome when the following ingredients are combined:  a full moon, Halloween and sugary treats; impending/recent storm/early release/day off; AND (in our case) a field trip.  Yikes.

I thought you would enjoy the following trip down memory lane for Halloween celebrations:

 Still as cute today!

 Your favorite blogger

 Nanny probably about 1915

 Ryan P

Calvin and Claire

Miss Julia 2011

And the classic!

And with this, we'll fly off to enjoy the holiday--and Happy 21st to my favorite bat.

Who Needs Facebook?

I was so surprised to find Weenie on Facebook!  I don't think many people my age can say they found their grandfathers on a social networking site.  Made me wonder what Weenie would have thought of Facebook.....I expect he would have taken it in stride the way he seemed to do with everything else.  At least, that's how it appeared to my young eyes. 

But social networking has been active for ages and ages.  Remember the party line we had on Dennison Road?  That seems to me to be the ultimate precursor to Facebook.  You were connected to others (although not entirely by choice) who could monitor your activities anonymously by listening into the phone conversations.  Facebook stalking in its infancy.

Local newspapers, though, take the cake for hotbeds of social sharing.  You would never find such enlightening and entertaining information today in newsprint (if you can even find newsprint at all).  I am very grateful for such news flashes as they help build a more robust picture of our ancestors and their lives.

John Nevins is our great great grandfather (Henry's father).  This appeared in the Ellicottville Post Wed Oct 5 1898 and brings to mind the gigunda wind turbines they are bringing into Gloucester these days.  Everything old is new again.

Mary is Henry's next oldest sibling.  This appeared in the Ellicottville Post Wed June 14 1905 and pre-dates the All American Girls' Professional Baseball League ("There's no crying in baseball!") by nearly 40 years.  Nice that everyone in town knew about the black eye.

So, just to prove this stuff didn't just happen in Western New York, this is from the Boston Daily Globe Aug 2 1920.  Mrs. Ida Ryan, aged 27 and good-looking was the wife of Richard Ryan (Grampie's brother).  This would have been Dad's aunt.  All of 4'7" and 85 pounds, she could have blown into the harbor, but apparently she eventually returned home.  I do not yet know "the rest of the story" but there are all sorts of implications in this article:  "Quarrels with parents or relatives, anxiety to dress in better fashion that their pay envelopes will allow, love affairs, unrest and plain wanderlust are given by the police as primary cause in most cases".  Sometimes I wonder if we've really come very far in cases where young women disappear.
**I have just discovered that Ida Ryan was owner/manager of a tea room by 1940**  I hope she was happy.

Such articles don't appear anymore, but I wonder if those Facebook posts will be available to our descendants?

News Flash! Weenie's on Facebook!

Not even kidding.  Here's the link but if it doesn't work, go to Olean NY fan page on Facebook and look for the St. Bonaventure Football Album.  He's the first picture in there--our own leatherhead!

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150930988806638.401500.265586096637&type=3


This is just hard to swallow.  You can find the coolest things just wandering around the internet without specific purpose.  Can't wait to retire and do this full time.

The Fredonia Censor Forestville Personals

Despite appearances to the contrary, I have not abandoned this blog.  The heart has been willing and I don't really have a good reason except to say it is not because I've lost interest.That is definitely not the case.  As soon as I can figure out how to transfer the nearly complete (and genius) blog entries that I compose as I'm driving to this screen, you should hang on to your hats!  There are no fewer than a dozen complete entries floating around inside my head that can't seem to find their way to my fingers at the appropriate time.  

One day when I was fooling around (searching professionally and with great purpose), I came across The Fredonia Censor November 8 1956 because it mentioned Dad and Forestville in the same article.  I was very intrigued to find this listing:

This seems to say that Dad lived in Forestville when I was born.  Well, I assume Dad lived there while Mom lived in Olean because I am quite certain "we" lived in Olean when I was born.  I think perhaps the Ellicottville job and living arrangement was not the first time Dad lived separately from his family for the sake of work.  I guess I did not put together that Dad worked in Forestville the year I was born even though "we" lived in Olean.  I am constantly surprised by the new things I learn about what I thought I knew very well, thank you very much.

A little further down the page was another tidbit:

This one did not surprise me one bit.

We visited Amy this weekend.  It's been too long since I've put my arms around her.  The weather wasn't too pretty on Sunday so we went shopping at the outlets.  On Monday we got a tour of the zoo -- always a treat.  We stepped into some new territory when Amy offered to pay for our meal.  I was reluctant to allow it but quickly remembered how I felt the first time I paid for Mom and Dad's meal.  It made me feel so grown up and responsible.  It puts that parent/child relationship onto a new plateau.  So, Miss Amy, thank you for breakfast!  We love you.

I don't know how this happens, but it seems the same with Ryan.  You probably know he recently got a tattoo and I expect you know that Jim and I aren't really in favor of that for our children.  But it's one of those times when parents need to allow their children to make their own decisions complete with the knowledge that Mom and Dad aren't on board.  This relationship also has reached a new level.  I now have (nearly) grown up children.  Sigh.  

When they were very young, moving from one developmental step to another always brought joy at the same level as wistfulness.  So I find myself sighing heavily with a slight smile on my heart.