Friday, April 11, 2014
"I think I'd better think that out again."
"I think I'd better think that out again." - Fagin
As Walter Winchell might say today, "Good evening Mr. and Mrs. ( Miss and MS ) North and South America . . . " and anyone, anywhere else who, 1) Happened upon my recent comment to our son, Mike, regarding photos taken in Chicago, and 2) Reacted to him ( Sorry Mike! ) with comments reflecting dismay, puzzlements, "Whoa!" and disapproval of my comment . . . Now, let me say . . .
"I surely can't fault you based on what you saw &/or thought you saw, or what you thought I said ( with only one stroke of a key ). So now, please read this . . . Though I do ( unfortunately ) have a favorite "word" or two, that one-letter mistaken abbreviation of my own devise is not one of them. I'm not a "foul mouth," neither am I stupid ( at least not clinically ). But I am, without a shred of doubt certifiably uninformed and ill-eqiipped to simply sally-forth upon the wide world of "Facebook." Were that not a fact, I wouldn't be writing this!
Truly, I did not know ( though anyone with a grain-of-brain should have realized that ) there really is an ABBR. ( fb ) for "facebook. I didn't. Now I Do! So, with red face, I apologize for my "glitch -'n- goof and at some later day and time, I will consider a return to "Kicking the can down the road."
As two of our favorite, impeccably correct evening T.V. news commentators use to say in signing off their newscast, "Good night Chet." "Good night, David." So, "Good Night,Moon." Good Night, Facebok. Bless You All!. Hempy
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
I Love My Ancestry!
I'm of a mind this afternoon to share a bit o' my family background . . . "Ancestry" that is. These folks I'm about to tell you about are on my father's side of the family tree ( knowing my father they were probably on the "right" side of the tree! ). I am "James" #5, for the simple reason that, the four first-born were males, four generations before me, were also named "James." I truly like my name ( and my middle name, "Breese" for my mother's-father's side of the tree ), BUT, 5 Jameses were enough and being fond of originality, Susanne and I proudly chose names we loved for our children, Michael for our first-born and MaryBeth for our second. Now, going backwards through my paternal-side heritage ...
My Grandfather, James the 3rd . . . was born 1893 in Flint, MI to James 2nd &, I believe, his mother's name was "Amanda." She "passed" when my grandfather was a very young, 1-2 years old. Amanda was of Native American ancestry. . . the De L'Isle Indians, related to the Algonquin tribal people, located on the Ottawa Rive between Ontario and Quebec. They were known also as the "Big River People." I have a photo of her as a very lovely, young woman. My knowlege of her, and therefore, my grandfather's heritage, came from my grandfather, spoken by him on several ocasions when I was quite young. Her heritage was seldom discussed, but I distinctly recall "Dad Hempstead " ( as I always called him " ) speaking of his mother as a being of de L'Isle Naive American, "Indian" ancestry. To add to that . . . If you ever saw a color or black& white photo of my Grand Father, he ( always in my estimation ) could pass for kin of Chiefs Cochise, Sitting Bull, Crazy Horse, Pontiac . . . ! And there were other traits that gave him "stand-out" Native American qualities. I'll go into that more with more about him another time. Now, Grandmother Hempstead . . .
Grandmother Hempstead, born 1892, dearly loved being called "Granny!" I'll tell ya why . . . Her name was Sylvia Mae Wray, "born and grew-up on top of 5 hills," she always said, in a place she called, "Fizzagees Knob," in Welston, ( southern ) Ohio not too far north of West Virginia. She was pretty much tinged with the trappin's of Appalachia. I say that with all awe, pride and respect! Granny was definitely akin to mountain, or, hill-people. She was a rather imposing, sizable, volitile woman . . . "ya dont mess wit Granny. . . nor doya mess wit her kin folk." I once saw her, bare-handed, ring a chicken's head off...'cause she couldn't find "that *#%!! axe!" But I also remember sitting with her, just the two of us, under a big shady tree, knee-to-knee, listening to her tell tales of growin' up an' "How Jim ( Dad Hempstead ) 'n I met and fell in love.. . with a large bowl 'tween us, "snappin'" green beans , or "shuckin' " an' "stringin'" peas outta their pods for dinner.
The term "Granny" was, likely still is, a powerful title of endearment, authority, respect and place of honor in Appalchian culture-communities, given to the elder lady of the faily.community. She was keeper of family traditions, stories, music, secrerts, and even special powers not residing in "jess ordinary, reg'lar folks." Ancestry there was-is Scotch-Irish, which sort of explains the fact that Granny, with Irish in her, was, more 'n jess a wee bit "Fey." I have always had a sense it was runnin' thru Granny Veins, Always. As a Kid, I was awed!
Granny, Dad Hempstead and my father, with our cocker spaniel, "Penny," hunted a great deal when I was young . . I've got some great old photos of the three of them in heir hunting"gear" - shotguns, boots, wool caps, heavy jackets with the in-back pockets for stuffing their "kill. Granny was the "best shot" of the three, and they always brought home Sunday Dinner. . . ringneck, pan-fried pheasant and squirrel, mashed potatos & white gravy, succotash and homemade biscuits . . . and Granny's pie &/or cobbler, a-la-mode. 'Fore I close on Granny and Dad, who, by the way, was a master carpenter and builder, a darn good shot also, and had a sweet sense of humor and timing . . . I must share some of Granny's favorite sayings-expressions:
Cackleberries/Hen Fruit = fresh eggs; Chicken-hackey= what you scraped-off your shoes; Now, don't that beat all?!?!; Oh, fer land's sakes; Now, Jimmy, you just git outta here an' go fetch me a ? ? ; Smackmadaddle = cottage cheese; sinkers = her deep fried donuts; By Crackey!; Oh, fer th' luv uv Mike; Referring to a local politician: Why, he's as crooked as dog's hind leg! And, of course, "Y'ALL!"
If y'alls read this far, I thank ya. If not, I don't blame ya! God bless! Olde Hempy
My Grandfather, James the 3rd . . . was born 1893 in Flint, MI to James 2nd &, I believe, his mother's name was "Amanda." She "passed" when my grandfather was a very young, 1-2 years old. Amanda was of Native American ancestry. . . the De L'Isle Indians, related to the Algonquin tribal people, located on the Ottawa Rive between Ontario and Quebec. They were known also as the "Big River People." I have a photo of her as a very lovely, young woman. My knowlege of her, and therefore, my grandfather's heritage, came from my grandfather, spoken by him on several ocasions when I was quite young. Her heritage was seldom discussed, but I distinctly recall "Dad Hempstead " ( as I always called him " ) speaking of his mother as a being of de L'Isle Naive American, "Indian" ancestry. To add to that . . . If you ever saw a color or black& white photo of my Grand Father, he ( always in my estimation ) could pass for kin of Chiefs Cochise, Sitting Bull, Crazy Horse, Pontiac . . . ! And there were other traits that gave him "stand-out" Native American qualities. I'll go into that more with more about him another time. Now, Grandmother Hempstead . . .
Grandmother Hempstead, born 1892, dearly loved being called "Granny!" I'll tell ya why . . . Her name was Sylvia Mae Wray, "born and grew-up on top of 5 hills," she always said, in a place she called, "Fizzagees Knob," in Welston, ( southern ) Ohio not too far north of West Virginia. She was pretty much tinged with the trappin's of Appalachia. I say that with all awe, pride and respect! Granny was definitely akin to mountain, or, hill-people. She was a rather imposing, sizable, volitile woman . . . "ya dont mess wit Granny. . . nor doya mess wit her kin folk." I once saw her, bare-handed, ring a chicken's head off...'cause she couldn't find "that *#%!! axe!" But I also remember sitting with her, just the two of us, under a big shady tree, knee-to-knee, listening to her tell tales of growin' up an' "How Jim ( Dad Hempstead ) 'n I met and fell in love.. . with a large bowl 'tween us, "snappin'" green beans , or "shuckin' " an' "stringin'" peas outta their pods for dinner.
The term "Granny" was, likely still is, a powerful title of endearment, authority, respect and place of honor in Appalchian culture-communities, given to the elder lady of the faily.community. She was keeper of family traditions, stories, music, secrerts, and even special powers not residing in "jess ordinary, reg'lar folks." Ancestry there was-is Scotch-Irish, which sort of explains the fact that Granny, with Irish in her, was, more 'n jess a wee bit "Fey." I have always had a sense it was runnin' thru Granny Veins, Always. As a Kid, I was awed!
Granny, Dad Hempstead and my father, with our cocker spaniel, "Penny," hunted a great deal when I was young . . I've got some great old photos of the three of them in heir hunting"gear" - shotguns, boots, wool caps, heavy jackets with the in-back pockets for stuffing their "kill. Granny was the "best shot" of the three, and they always brought home Sunday Dinner. . . ringneck, pan-fried pheasant and squirrel, mashed potatos & white gravy, succotash and homemade biscuits . . . and Granny's pie &/or cobbler, a-la-mode. 'Fore I close on Granny and Dad, who, by the way, was a master carpenter and builder, a darn good shot also, and had a sweet sense of humor and timing . . . I must share some of Granny's favorite sayings-expressions:
Cackleberries/Hen Fruit = fresh eggs; Chicken-hackey= what you scraped-off your shoes; Now, don't that beat all?!?!; Oh, fer land's sakes; Now, Jimmy, you just git outta here an' go fetch me a ? ? ; Smackmadaddle = cottage cheese; sinkers = her deep fried donuts; By Crackey!; Oh, fer th' luv uv Mike; Referring to a local politician: Why, he's as crooked as dog's hind leg! And, of course, "Y'ALL!"
If y'alls read this far, I thank ya. If not, I don't blame ya! God bless! Olde Hempy
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