Incentive

This week and this week only, the company I work for is giving its employees $.75 for every appointment we set. It's like getting a small bonus or a small raise. Ideally, we should be setting about seven appointments in a 4 1/2 hour day. That's an extra $5.25. I'm tempted to stay later and work longer (I need to do that anyway to save hours for Christmas) in order to cash in a little on the offer. The downside is calling people after 7:30pm their time is often disastrous, and we'd be doing some of that. Maybe it'd be better to come in two hours earlier. I'd just need to find a ride...

Lost and Found

In Relief Society a few weeks ago they passed around a paper asking if we could trace our family lines back four generations. I honestly couldn't, so I marked no. And I felt really bad about it, especially when my roommate got her mission call and one of the things she's supposed to bring is her four-generational pedigree and family stories. I knew someone in the family must have that knowledge, but I didn't, and after all the talks on doing temple work and redeeming our own family's dead, I thought I should hop to it, lazy daisy!

I began by pushing my tree as far back as I could. This took me two days, and most of my ancestors (our ancestors, I should say, since only Rachel and Liz ever read this) can be traced as far as the 1600s, some even earlier. Did you know we have a great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother named Tame Doe? She was Cherokee, or at least grew up among them.

Then I went back and started to fill in the holes, especially focusing on the ancestors who don't go that far back. For instance, Alpheus Bulen didn't appear to have a wife. I found a record of Eliza Jane, who he listed as his wife and beneficiary if he died in action. (Good thing, too--he kicked the bucket in Arkansas in 1865 during the Civil War. I think it must be his poster-thing hanging in Grandma Trudy's living room.) Then I went on and found the action record of his marriage:

Bonus points! It lists Isaac Brown and Sally (other census records indicate she might have been called Salina or Selira, but handwriting wasn't so good back then) as Eliza Jane's parents. Now, because the marriage was in 1848, Eliza just missed the boat on the 1850 US Federal Census, but it's okay, because all of Isaac and Sally's other children made it. For these records, I searched for Wisconsin as their residency and was quickly armed with their birthplaces as New York (Isaac) and New Jersey (Sally), in addition to their respective birth years. Unfortunately, there were a lot of people named Isaac and Sally in those places at that time, so I haven't been able to trace them back further--yet.

So I began to explore Isaac and Sally's other children, like John Brown, and I found a lot of names. I added Americus (what a name!) and his children, and then I added Byron's family and turned to Jay's.

To find someone's family, I start by looking up their name, birth year, and place of birth so I can find them in at least one of US Federal Census. I try to give a few years in the birth range, like 1886-1889, since they were often estimates and fluctuated. Jay appears to be born in 1887 or 1888, depending on the record, and of course was born in Wisconsin. Here are some of the results I got for Jay Brown:

You'll notice in his first record (1900 census), Jay has the middle initial "S."

In the 1910 census record, he is Jay L Brown. I chose to go with this variation because it was more recent and because he is referred to as Jay L in a later record (keep reading and you'll see what I mean).

By 1920, Jay appears to be married and has joined her family. I am really excited by records like this because it lists not only Jay and his spouse, but also his spouse's family so I know her maiden name. Two questions: Where's Pomerania? Where's Hesse? Keep reading!

Here's Jay L Brown in the 1930 census. For a moment I had doubts, but there's someone (a possible relative?) rooming with them who has the last name Gaske. And Helen is a far cry from Herma, but then again, it's basically impossible to read the record that supposedly says Herma (trust me, I looked at it closely), so I think it's a win-win. And if you had any doubts...

Here's the 1940 census, and Christine Garski is listed as mother-in-law (1920 was Christina Garske, so I think we have a fit). It also appears Pomerania is Germany. There's a little bit of a discrepancy in age, but that happens. And the children's names match the 1930 census. I think we've found a family that was previously lost.

So now I search for census, birth, and marriage records for the Garske/Garski family to try to add Jay's wife Herma/Helen/Helene and all of her family as accurately as possible. And Jay and Helen's children, Leslie and Virginia, will be added soon, too.

Isn't this fun?

And look, I found Helena Albertin Garske's birth record. And it even has her mother's maiden name: Seipp. Isn't this fun!

As it turns out, there's already a match for her in the system! I added Helena Albertin Garske, and it turns out her baptism, confirmation and initiatory were done in the Nuku'alofa Tonga Temple in 2003 and 2004. However, her parents' work has not been done, and she still needs her work finished, and maybe soon she can be sealed to her parents, siblings, husband and children.

The Only Conceivable Way

The only conceivable way I can see Mitt Romney winning the presidential election is if people are afraid to admit they're voting for him. It turns out there's a name for this: Shy Tory Factor.

Essentially, this means that, when polled, people are afraid to admit if they're voting for a candidate who might be perceived as less-popular. Obama was so ridiculously popular in 2008, some people could hedge when it comes to admitting they're throwing support behind a Mormon candidate. (I'm sure there are other reasons they wouldn't vote for Romney, but I'm making a quick generalization because my macaroni and cheese will be done in a minute.)

I read an article from the Wall Street Journal's website stating Romney will win, and this comment sums up what's been on my mind:

All of the polls, local and national, presage a Romney victory. At least they do after a simple adjustment for a factor that has been largely ignored in the press, but will be recognized of surpassing importance for the polls in this election once the returns come in tonight. That factor is known as the "shy Tory factor" (google it for the history), where a poll respondent is unwilling to admit that he/she is voting for a particular candidate or, and more likely now in 2012, is voting against a particular candidate. Particularly in the heavily Democratic swing states which came out so heavily in favor of Obama in 2008, I would suggest that perhaps 1 in 10 of the poll respondents indicating a preference for Obama are saying so because they will not admit, until they hit the voting booth, that they are voting against the historic first black president, voting for the rich guy who would have bankrupted the car makers, voting for dirty water and air, voting not to finish what Obama started, etc. The Obama campaign has so glorified its candidate and so demonized its opponent that this less-than-truthful reaction is almost inevitable and on a significant scale. If it is one in ten, that translates to a 10% overstatement of Obama support and a corresponding 10% understatement for Romney in most state polls. Even halved, these adjustments would easily put Romney well over the top in every swing state.

As an illustration, think of Prop 8. Without looking up polling data (think of my macaroni!), I seem to remember that more people said they would vote against it than for it, but it still won by several percentage points. Granted, this was a single state and only one issue being voted upon, but I wonder if the same thing might not happen with the current candidates.

That said, I don't care who our president is for the next four years. That said, I still voted.

Pam Pot

This morning I heard my roommate spray something in the kitchen, which can only possibly mean one thing: Pam. The two frying pans (egg-sized and normal-sized) and pot belong to me, so I hurried to see what she was doing. She had sprayed Pam into the pot and was rubbing it around with her finger. I asked what she was doing, and she explained she was going to boil water for noodles and she didn't want them to stick.

This sounds kind of dumb, but you can almost make sense of it when you realize that my pot had a non-stick surface before some ignorant person I live with scraped up the bottom of the pot by stirring it with a fork or similar metal instrument. So now things can stick to it and it cooks unevenly as more heat comes up through the uncovered, un-non-sticked patch.

But it wasn't a good plan, especially if you still intended to cook with the pot. Not unless you want Pam-flavored pasta. I told her to use the pot like nothing was wrong with it, even though it's kind of ruined. One of these days I'll buy a new pot and frying pan (probably the same ignorant person warped it by putting it under cold water while it was still hot) and not let anyone else use them. I'm just irritated that the ones I had lasted two full years with my old roommates and were ruined in under two months by my current ones.

She Wants A Gentleman

I remember seeing SWAG on my cousin's Facebook page. It stood for "she wants a gentleman," which I thought was funny because her boyfriend looked like a freaky-punk-goth kid.

My roommate's really interested in this guy she met through one of their mutual acquaintances. Apparently they have a lot in common, and she's never had a guy pay so much attention to her so flirt so outlandishly. He gave us a ride to the store last night and when we got to the car he opened the door for both of us. I told him that was great, because a true gentleman doesn't only open the door for his date--he'll open it for his date's friends! But it was a mistake. When we got to the store, he pulled into a parking spot and I started to unbuckle my seat belt. "Wait, stop!" he said. (Shouted, more like.) I felt guilty because I was taught at some point growing up not to unbuckle your seat belt until the car's engine had been turned off, but then he whipped out of the driver's seat and came around the car to open our doors. "Oh no you don't!" I said and I flung my door open before he could reach it. Then we got into the STUPIDEST mini-argument about how he wanted to open my door but I can open it myself thanks God gave me fingers and I wasn't going to sit there waiting for him to come around when I could do it myself and what if there was a fire, I might burn to death. He told me that I wasn't letting him be a gentleman and that all I had to do was wait in the car and that I wasn't giving him the opportunity to serve. What an idiot! I think I really just had a problem with him telling me to STOP when I was letting myself out of the car.

But what thoroughly depressed me is that my roommate sat quietly and facing forward in the passenger seat and waited for him to open the door for her (after our mini-argument) and then quietly said to me "He was just being a gentleman and I like that." I don't ever want to marry someone who won't let me let myself out of the car. That's not being a gentleman, that's being a chauvinist. There are other ways to show respect for women. Enough doors are closed to us and if only men would get out of the way, we could open them.

That Can't Be Right

I was watching Sailor Moon Stars on YouTube. In episode 174 at the 3:40 mark (when the scouts are joining different clubs), Ami prints out a paper and says "Here you go! I downloaded a document from Columbia University library's site concerning space engineering." The nerd who takes it says "Thanks a lot! I'm not very good at English..." Ami must have been banking on that, because what she actually printed were lyrics to "Danger Zone" from the movie "Top Gun."

Almost Boo!ed

A week ago my neighbors put a paper in their window that at a glance looked like a page from a coloring book. I saw there was a ghost drawn on it, anyway.

Then today at the Activities Committee Meeting, one of the co-chairs asked if I'd continue Boo!ing peoples apartments as part of the service sub-committee. I didn't know what she was talking about. She said "Oh, you know, like how you Boo!ed us... right?" and I just looked at her blankly. She explained that someone had left treats on her doorstep with a note saying "Boo! You've been Boo!ed! Hope you enjoy these treats! Now it's your turn... Make some treats and leave them on someone's doorstep with a sign like this. It'll be fun! P.S. - put this in your window so people know you've already been Boo!ed." She said my name was written on the upper-corner. As soon as the meeting was over I went and looked at her kitchen window (she's my next door neighbor). I felt sick and sad when I saw the note and realized that it had been meant for me. Someone tried to do service for me two weeks ago and it had gone astray, to my neighbors. And now I have the assignment to keep Boo!ing people in the ward until it goes around to everybody.

I explained what must have happened (really, who would Boo! someone and write their own name on the note--how full of myself do they think I am?) and asked if I could have the note and I made them a new one. Then I pulled out my box of happy notes from my old ward and found a handwriting match. So one of my well-meaning friends meant to leave me treats. My neighbors said the Oreo brownies were delicious. I know it was a mistake, but I feel really hurt by the confusion, least of all that my friends don't know where I live now, most of all that my neighbors took brownies meant for me (my name was on the note!) and told me just how delicious they were. And now I'm supposed to keep it going.