I remember Grama's place. You couldn't see the house from the winding country road. You had to turn off into a narrow lane where the rusty mail boxes stood and pass two other houses before Grama's house came into view high on a hill. All the way up the drive on each side were deep rows of peony bushes. On a June night their perfume would fill the air welcoming you to Grama's place.

The snug red brick house had cement railings in the shape of slides on either side of the front stairs which led to a huge wooden veranda. This is where Grama kept her metal swing. It was like a bed and creaked and squeaked when you rocked on it. By the front door, fastened to the wall was a small wooden note board where Grama pinned messages to say where she had gone and when she'd be back.

From the veranda you could peek in the three long windows and see into the front room. Under these windows sat her couch, decorated with fancy lace doilies. Off to one side was the intricate and elegant carved desk that Grama had made from a grand piano. It had all sorts of secret drawers for money and jewels.

On the other side of the large room was her famous Victrola that came all the way from Chicago. In the middle of the room stood her majestic quilt frame with yet another heirloom in the making.

Around back was the tiny cluttered garage attached to the house and above it you could see the small attic windows with the diamond panes. Grama let me visit that attic room a few times but it was never enough. I remember two steamer trunks brimming full with tons of treasures, a wicker doll buggy that I asked to take home, and stacks of dusty books that would take me hundreds of years to read.

I loved the attic room almost as much as I loved the pond at the bottom of the hill. Everyone called it a pond but it was more like a lake. That's where I learned to swim with a rope around my waist and Grama on the other end of the rope. That's where I caught my first fish with a bamboo pole, string line and safety pin hooks.

The best place in my whole world was sitting on the rickety dock, listening to the hundreds of frogs singing late into the night. There will never be another place like Grama's. 

My mother had a dream. She wanted to be a published writer. I remember listening to her banging away on our old, delapidated typewriter whenever the inspiration seized her. With three kids, an enormous vegetable garden and a job as a teacher, she didn't have much time to devote to her muses. When us kids were pretty well grown, she signed up for a writing class. She loved it. Finally, after many years, the stories that were churning around in her head were being put to paper.

I vaguely remember reading her stories before she submitted them to various magazines. They were amusing, but she never got published. She worked so hard to make the changes that the editors suggested, only to receive one rejection letter after another. I felt sorry for her, but really, there was nothing to be done. She tucked away her stories and her dreams, never to see the light of day again.

I came across some of her stories the other day. It must be 20 years since I've read them, but I can still remember her enthusiasm when she proudly let us read her work. It struck me that had she still been alive, she could very easily have published them here, on the internet, for people to read.

So, although my mother is long gone, I would like to share her words with the world. And help her realize her dream. Stay tuned for my next update when I share her first story entitled "Grama's House".

I guess I've always been surrounded by family history. We have been lucky enough to inherit heirlooms that have been passed down through the generations, along with the stories about the brave individuals who owned them. 

This is the rocking chair that we had when I was growing up. It has been reupholstered several times over the years; I remember it when it was a brilliant orange/brown/red pattern that screamed 1970s.

Probably back since I was rocked to sleep as a baby my mother loved to tell me the story of her grandmother who brought this rocking chair over from England. Anna Zaranek sailed to Ellis Island in 1906 by herself, after her mother died. She came to Canada via New York to live with her brothers who had emigrated years earlier. Among her possessions was this rocking chair.

Imagine a young woman of 18 with the courage to travel alone across the ocean with her life's possessions. I have always admired Anna's bravery, even before I had any inkling what family history or genealogy was. Although she died in 1942 and I never met her I'd like to think that through my work and this blog she lives on.

I've found a couple of websites that allow us family tree detectives to display our hard work in very unique and interesting ways.

The first website is Wordle, You can generate word clouds with various text that you input. Just import text or  type it in manually. The really fun part is that the most common words or names are highlighted, so you can see what names are prominent in your entire family. You can experiment with fonts, colours and create something really funky or traditional, depending on your style.

The second website is Digital Roots. You can download software that will allow you to print your entire family tree on one piece of paper. It's amazing!

Genealogy is carving a huge and creative niche in the world. I'm really excited to find sites like these that highlight our hard work.

In my current life I'm a Health Sciences librarian. I really love Science and always have. I love knowing how things work, especially the human body. Physiology fascinates me. How can the body do all that it does perfectly accurately 99% of the time?

As I embark upon my new genealogy career there is so much that I need to learn. I'm really looking forward to challenging myself to reach a new personal goal. That being said, however, I'm really going to miss the science research that I get to read every day.

So I am starting to mull over the idea of Forensic Genealogy. It looks fascinating, from identifying details from old photos, to DNA analysis. Basically, you use science (think CSI) to solve clues to family history. It's fascinating! Once I get the basic training out of the way I definitely want to pursue Forensic Genealogy.

Some interesting links:

http://www.forensicgenealogy.info/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Human_genome_project