Tomorrow brings the feast of Saint Patrick, celebrated by many of Irish origins and those who have adopted the Irish custom of a corned beef and cabbage dinner. I have been to Ireland several times and have partaken of many meals in pubs, carveries and restaurants. I never saw corned beef and cabbage on the menu. Must be a U.S. of A. thing. I do remember my first dinner in Ireland, in Doolin, bacon and cabbage. Wonderful meal, the bacon being more like the Canadian style bacon, ham really, washed down with a genuine Guinness. Definitely pork and not beef. And a potatoes and cabbage combo was everywhere, but no corned beef. In fact, I always thought it was a Jewish deli thing.
I have been invited by a very good friend to a corned beef and cabbage dinner tonight. So, yesterday evening, I thought I would make something to complement the Irish tea that I am gifting to my hostess. I thought, Welsh Cakes, really cookies. Not Irish of course, but still Celtic, I think. The recipe looked quite simple.
Perhaps I should not have attempted anything so late in the day. Let's just say that it was a fail that has been relegated to my freezer for my own consumption when I am desperate. Maybe aging will improve them.
So, today I was up early and in the kitchen, mixing up my no fail cake. Not just any cake, but one my in laws call the Phelps cake. A cake that my mother always used to bake. I once asked my dad's sister, Aunt Nancy, about where the recipe came from and she said that her mother used to make it. So, maybe it's really a Beatty cake or even a Flanagan cake. Anyway, I like to think that it in fact may have Irish origins and so, is most appropriate to go with the maybe not so Irish corned beef dinner.
Something different I did today was to actually bake the cake at the proper temperature of 325 degrees Fahrenheit. I had always heard that ovens can vary by as much as 25 degrees, and darn if my oven wasn't in the plus range. 325 was actually 350! So, I tinkered with the setting, giving thanks that I had digital controls. 315 gave me my 325, or fairly close. Best looking cake to come out of my oven in a very long time! My recommendation, check your ovens with a simple little oven thermometer.
Years ago, my husband Steve gave me a Kitchen Aid mixer for Christmas. The heavy one. Much better than a vacuum cleaner. It has faithfully served me, whipping up cakes and frosting and kneading my popular Parkerhouse rolls that are always requested for holiday dinners. Long ago, I bought the meat grinder attachment and one day, I may attempt to make my own sausage, if I can find it. Meanwhile, I will continue the upper body work so I will never lose the power to lift the mixer from its cabinet. Second recommendation of the day, consider getting one if you haven't one already.
Happy Saint Patrick's Day!
"To all the days, here and after,
May they be filled with fond memories, happiness and laughter."
Slainte Mhaith!
Thursday, March 16, 2017
Monday, March 6, 2017
The Name Game
By now, my followers have probably have deduced that I dabble a bit in genealogy.
I began during the early years of the World Wide Web, when there was just a fraction of today's information available on the internet.
Trips were made to the Maryland Historical Society in Baltimore, the Hall of Records in Annapolis, the Baltimore County Historical Society in Cockeysville, and a couple of area LDS family research centers. Visiting the old buildings that housed some of these records was an added highlight.
In those early days, I learned a lot about Soundex, using microfilm readers and tackling the challenge of deciphering old handwriting.
Names back then, proved to be quite a challenge. I learned to never be surprised by the spelling of some of the old family surnames. The Irish O' was dropped, e's and a's transposed, letters added, letters left off, and so on. Sometimes, it was just what the census taker or immigrant official may have heard in trying to understand what was being said. Just as the ancestral newly immigrant families came to build new lives, so were some of their names reborn into a new life.
My ancestor Beatty, or Beattie/Baty/Bady/Betty, married a Demoss, which may harken back to the French then Dutch Dumas, (perhaps another dose of royal blood - was he really a comte?).
In the Beatty line, there were plenty Williams and James' and one had to exercise much care in keeping them in their proper place.
Flanagan could have more n's, or a vowel switched to i or e.
And Phelps could appear as the phonetic Felps or even Phillips, a totally different name.
And it wasn't just the last names. First names had their own issues!
I was at quite an advanced age (as a child!) when I learned that my father had another name. Of, course, he was Dad or Daddy to me. I had always heard him called Jesse and was surprised to learn that he was a Patrick, too.
The story goes that my great grandmother wanted him baptized Jesse but the priest said no, he had to have a saint's name, even though Jesse is a good biblical name.
And, that he was supposedly named after a good friend of Nanny Weber.
Jesse Boudinot does flow off the tongue quite smoothly although Patrick Boudinot is not without its own charm.
Rarely, did I hear him called by Patrick though once, there was a phone call asking for Pat that sent me into a dither. Was it for my dad or my sister, Patricia, known as Trish and that someone didn't know she wasn't a Pat? And while we are talking about my sister, it's quite obvious Patricia Lee is named after our father. My other sister is Catherine Maureen, very close to our mother's Irene Catherine. And then there is me, Barbara Susan and I don't know who I am named after.
Dad wasn't the only one of his family to have another name.
Leonard Passano carried on another fine family name but his moniker was Lolly, maybe so as not to be confused with his father, Leonard Passano known as Len. Uncle Lolly could wiggle his ears.
A distinguished Hugh Fidelis was transformed into Oots or Uncle Ootsie. Did someone in the family know Latin?
Sweet Aunt Sis wins most original first name, Felixena, proudly named after her McCurley great grandmother. It is easy to see why it was shortened to Sis as the name may have been a challenge for her young siblings.
Aunt Nancy was really Ann Rita, sharing not just the names her mother Ann and Ann's sister, Rita. She also carried on the legacy of beautiful women in the family.
Dad's two remaining brothers, William Calhoun and Harry Cornelius, also shared names of their ancestors but some how escaped the family's unusual naming habit.
William became a normal Bill, but a Bill with his own hill and Harry stayed Harry, unlike the first of that name who came into to the world as Adam Cornelius and left it as a Harry.
I wonder what other name gems will be uncovered as I dabble among the ancestral roots?
I began during the early years of the World Wide Web, when there was just a fraction of today's information available on the internet.
Trips were made to the Maryland Historical Society in Baltimore, the Hall of Records in Annapolis, the Baltimore County Historical Society in Cockeysville, and a couple of area LDS family research centers. Visiting the old buildings that housed some of these records was an added highlight.
In those early days, I learned a lot about Soundex, using microfilm readers and tackling the challenge of deciphering old handwriting.
Names back then, proved to be quite a challenge. I learned to never be surprised by the spelling of some of the old family surnames. The Irish O' was dropped, e's and a's transposed, letters added, letters left off, and so on. Sometimes, it was just what the census taker or immigrant official may have heard in trying to understand what was being said. Just as the ancestral newly immigrant families came to build new lives, so were some of their names reborn into a new life.
My ancestor Beatty, or Beattie/Baty/Bady/Betty, married a Demoss, which may harken back to the French then Dutch Dumas, (perhaps another dose of royal blood - was he really a comte?).
In the Beatty line, there were plenty Williams and James' and one had to exercise much care in keeping them in their proper place.
Flanagan could have more n's, or a vowel switched to i or e.
And Phelps could appear as the phonetic Felps or even Phillips, a totally different name.
And it wasn't just the last names. First names had their own issues!
I was at quite an advanced age (as a child!) when I learned that my father had another name. Of, course, he was Dad or Daddy to me. I had always heard him called Jesse and was surprised to learn that he was a Patrick, too.
The story goes that my great grandmother wanted him baptized Jesse but the priest said no, he had to have a saint's name, even though Jesse is a good biblical name.
And, that he was supposedly named after a good friend of Nanny Weber.
Jesse Boudinot does flow off the tongue quite smoothly although Patrick Boudinot is not without its own charm.
Rarely, did I hear him called by Patrick though once, there was a phone call asking for Pat that sent me into a dither. Was it for my dad or my sister, Patricia, known as Trish and that someone didn't know she wasn't a Pat? And while we are talking about my sister, it's quite obvious Patricia Lee is named after our father. My other sister is Catherine Maureen, very close to our mother's Irene Catherine. And then there is me, Barbara Susan and I don't know who I am named after.
Dad wasn't the only one of his family to have another name.
Leonard Passano carried on another fine family name but his moniker was Lolly, maybe so as not to be confused with his father, Leonard Passano known as Len. Uncle Lolly could wiggle his ears.
A distinguished Hugh Fidelis was transformed into Oots or Uncle Ootsie. Did someone in the family know Latin?
Sweet Aunt Sis wins most original first name, Felixena, proudly named after her McCurley great grandmother. It is easy to see why it was shortened to Sis as the name may have been a challenge for her young siblings.
Aunt Nancy was really Ann Rita, sharing not just the names her mother Ann and Ann's sister, Rita. She also carried on the legacy of beautiful women in the family.
Dad's two remaining brothers, William Calhoun and Harry Cornelius, also shared names of their ancestors but some how escaped the family's unusual naming habit.
William became a normal Bill, but a Bill with his own hill and Harry stayed Harry, unlike the first of that name who came into to the world as Adam Cornelius and left it as a Harry.
I wonder what other name gems will be uncovered as I dabble among the ancestral roots?
Monday, February 20, 2017
A definate goal
In my last post there was a word that passed the spell check but it was actually one misspelled by me and I was very much ready to edit the post. Curiosity stayed my hand when I looked up the mistake and learned its meaning. I decided that it could stay. Remember this.
There is a purposely misspelled word in today's title. I think it may be one of the most misspelt words in the English language. I have even seen teachers with advanced degrees do it a slight injustice.
I am sure that you have noticed it. But I will not let it overshadow the more important word.
Goal.
The new year is 51 days old and I now have a goal for 2017. My sister and I have entered a sprint triathlon again. We have begun training, starting with the swimming. Each visit to the pool for lap swimming, we are pushing each other to do more lengths. This is my strongest leg of the triathlon. I'm not extremely fast but I'm very comfortable in the water. We will also will be adding cycling to the training program and for me, the run is a walk since my jog is just about as fast as my walk. I suppose that the cycling part is my weakness. Maybe I will look for a spin class. Will definitely be doing some riding on the road before mid June.
We did this same event last year. Trish was in a different age group. We both medaled. Not terribly difficult since there aren't that many individuals in our age group competing. We were just happy to finish.The award was added bling. But still, a definitely nice reward.
This year, we are in the same age group. We are competing against each other. And that's okay because my goal is again, really just to finish. If I can better my time, that's an added plus. I am hopeful that my knee and my hip will cooperate and not complain so much during the training, and I can accomplish this goal. I am realistic, too. It could be a not so pretty finish for me. Either way, there is definitely a lovely and cold beer waiting to be enjoyed afterwards. This is even a better reward!
And now, what was that not so wrong word in the last post?
If you like, leave a comment for me if you definitely know what it is.
There is a purposely misspelled word in today's title. I think it may be one of the most misspelt words in the English language. I have even seen teachers with advanced degrees do it a slight injustice.
I am sure that you have noticed it. But I will not let it overshadow the more important word.
Goal.
The new year is 51 days old and I now have a goal for 2017. My sister and I have entered a sprint triathlon again. We have begun training, starting with the swimming. Each visit to the pool for lap swimming, we are pushing each other to do more lengths. This is my strongest leg of the triathlon. I'm not extremely fast but I'm very comfortable in the water. We will also will be adding cycling to the training program and for me, the run is a walk since my jog is just about as fast as my walk. I suppose that the cycling part is my weakness. Maybe I will look for a spin class. Will definitely be doing some riding on the road before mid June.
We did this same event last year. Trish was in a different age group. We both medaled. Not terribly difficult since there aren't that many individuals in our age group competing. We were just happy to finish.The award was added bling. But still, a definitely nice reward.
This year, we are in the same age group. We are competing against each other. And that's okay because my goal is again, really just to finish. If I can better my time, that's an added plus. I am hopeful that my knee and my hip will cooperate and not complain so much during the training, and I can accomplish this goal. I am realistic, too. It could be a not so pretty finish for me. Either way, there is definitely a lovely and cold beer waiting to be enjoyed afterwards. This is even a better reward!
And now, what was that not so wrong word in the last post?
If you like, leave a comment for me if you definitely know what it is.
Wednesday, February 15, 2017
When a hundred is not what it seems
The first post of 2017 probably should be about the new year and any resolutions. I don't do resolutions. Quite pointless for me since they are usually forgotten or ignored. So, I generally just steer myself toward very generalized goals and just maybe, I find myself on a new path leading to good things like a healthy lifestyle and learning new things, etc, etc. Experience has taught me a lot and I just may not need a map for the coming year.
I like maps. And I can read a map fairly well. Usually. My sisters will tell you that I'm wrong since when we were in Ireland, we traveled for two hours but only covered barely an inch on the map. But I was driving then, and not looking at the map but looking at road signs. And now, I will never, ever, ever forget that there is a huge difference between the M4 and the N4. Still it was a lovely adventure driving through the spectacular Wicklow Mountains.
In its infancy, the Maryland colony was very different from the state of Maryland. Parts of the state were still part of the Virginia colony and there were only four counties, St. Mary's, Charles, Anne Arundel and and Kent counties, in the mid 17th century. By around 1660, Baltimore County became its own entity and as the state's population increased, the number of counties grew too.
One of the more confusing things I encountered in the family research was hundreds, a descriptive term found in the tax lists and in the early land patents. One would assume that it meant something very important in a geographical sense. There are several possible origins. It appears about the time of the Roman rule over Britain. One meaning could be a hundred families in a certain area. Or maybe it meant that there could be found in the area, a hundred warriors or fighters to serve in an army. Whatever it's beginnings, the term found its place in the early counties, each hundred with a constable or sheriff and a justice of the peace. Information can be found at Rootsweb.com, should you be interested.
I live very close to Old Court Road where it begins its journey from the Patapsco River through Baltimore County, almost to Towson, the county seat. Local history tells me that in my neck of the woods, it was once an Indian trail. One of the oldest roads in the state, it originally was part of a road that led a traveler from Annapolis to Old Baltimore, which was sited on Bush river in Harford county. From there, one could reach Philadelphia. The port of Old Baltimore eventually silted up and the new Baltimore sprouted and flourished at its present day spot in the Patapsco river basin.
It looks like I may be living in what was at one time the Upper Patapsco Hundred, since I am north of the river. Same hundred as my tavern owning ancestor. Lower Patapsco hundred was south of the river, and eastward was a different hundred altogether.
One can find copies of old maps all over the World Wide Web. A good collection resides at lib.umd.edu.
Looking at these old renderings of the colony with the Chesapeake bay and its tributaries, I am amazed how accurate they could be without the benefit of the satellite imagery that we have today. Not perfect, of course, like the one I saw with Delaware so shrunken as to be absolutely minuscule. Rather bizarre looking, really.
Old maps, even as late as 1877, sometimes bore the names of the landowners so you could easily see where the old homestead once stood. Quite useful for the amateur genealogist.
Some ask why this small obsession with the past and genealogy and family history. I could say that I like knowing where I'm from. But I think it is really quite simply just a love of history. And with that, whatever the early cartographers could teach me with their works of historical art.
I like maps. And I can read a map fairly well. Usually. My sisters will tell you that I'm wrong since when we were in Ireland, we traveled for two hours but only covered barely an inch on the map. But I was driving then, and not looking at the map but looking at road signs. And now, I will never, ever, ever forget that there is a huge difference between the M4 and the N4. Still it was a lovely adventure driving through the spectacular Wicklow Mountains.
In its infancy, the Maryland colony was very different from the state of Maryland. Parts of the state were still part of the Virginia colony and there were only four counties, St. Mary's, Charles, Anne Arundel and and Kent counties, in the mid 17th century. By around 1660, Baltimore County became its own entity and as the state's population increased, the number of counties grew too.
One of the more confusing things I encountered in the family research was hundreds, a descriptive term found in the tax lists and in the early land patents. One would assume that it meant something very important in a geographical sense. There are several possible origins. It appears about the time of the Roman rule over Britain. One meaning could be a hundred families in a certain area. Or maybe it meant that there could be found in the area, a hundred warriors or fighters to serve in an army. Whatever it's beginnings, the term found its place in the early counties, each hundred with a constable or sheriff and a justice of the peace. Information can be found at Rootsweb.com, should you be interested.
I live very close to Old Court Road where it begins its journey from the Patapsco River through Baltimore County, almost to Towson, the county seat. Local history tells me that in my neck of the woods, it was once an Indian trail. One of the oldest roads in the state, it originally was part of a road that led a traveler from Annapolis to Old Baltimore, which was sited on Bush river in Harford county. From there, one could reach Philadelphia. The port of Old Baltimore eventually silted up and the new Baltimore sprouted and flourished at its present day spot in the Patapsco river basin.
It looks like I may be living in what was at one time the Upper Patapsco Hundred, since I am north of the river. Same hundred as my tavern owning ancestor. Lower Patapsco hundred was south of the river, and eastward was a different hundred altogether.
One can find copies of old maps all over the World Wide Web. A good collection resides at lib.umd.edu.
Looking at these old renderings of the colony with the Chesapeake bay and its tributaries, I am amazed how accurate they could be without the benefit of the satellite imagery that we have today. Not perfect, of course, like the one I saw with Delaware so shrunken as to be absolutely minuscule. Rather bizarre looking, really.
Old maps, even as late as 1877, sometimes bore the names of the landowners so you could easily see where the old homestead once stood. Quite useful for the amateur genealogist.
Some ask why this small obsession with the past and genealogy and family history. I could say that I like knowing where I'm from. But I think it is really quite simply just a love of history. And with that, whatever the early cartographers could teach me with their works of historical art.
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