Boots. Not cowboy boots. Just boots .Growing up, I did not know there were there boot styles outside of the cowboy kind. When the UPS man delivered the big box from Sheplers, I knew it had Daddy’s boots inside. Okay sometimes it was a black Stetson or maybe a plaid button up shirt with snaps. Daddy only wears shirts that snap. No buttons allowed!  Boots, boots…back to the boots. Without opening the box, I could describe the boots to the T, always the same brand, always the same style. Like his choice of boots, my Daddy is consistent. He gets up with the chickens every morning, literally since he is a large scale chicken farmer. There are no weekends for him. Farming doesn’t permit sleeping in. He works steadily, and loves consistently. Each morning after working the chickens, (chicken farmer slang for picking up the dead ones, adjusting curtains, foggers, feeders and checking and re-checking everything) he feeds his barn cats and then his cows. What’s a farm without barn cats and cows right?  My girls love feeding the cats with Poppa and they look forward to this time with him. They depend on him for hugs and compassion when in trouble with Momma.  They look forward to “helping” him and they know their help will be greatly appreciated. They bank on their Poppa to randomly give them a dollar to put in their pockets. (No pun intended).  His boots are always put to good use. They are used to help feed America.  God has used my Dad to develop good character in his children and grandchildren. Although Daddy does not realize it; God uses him as a living historian and many of the stories he has shared will be used on this blog. 

Welcome to all my new followers! I hope I can work with you to help join the unique pieces of your family's intricate puzzle. Preserving history is my goal. Genealogy, family histories, and days gone by are my passion. How can you aide me in my goal? How can I help you safeguard your family's legacy? Message or call me today so I can get started building your family tree! I've always felt led to ensure that yesteryear is not forgotten. Some think it an oddity; I consider it a blessing. My many years of working from home researching and writing, I think, have prepared me for what I hope will help fill in that dash between the date of birth and date of death that will be carved into my headstone. Although technology has made genealogy much easier, it is still very time consuming and can often be complicated. This little business venture encompasses my passion and my purpose. It has long been my hope and prayer to one day get paid to do what I love. Sadly, money makes the world go round’ so it only makes sense to give it a go. I would love to help you trace your roots! Please like and share my page. Thanks for helping me get the word out about my new business! Check out my FB page! https://www.facebook.com/GenealogyWithHaley

Camp Meetings

The old Primitive Baptists and their churches were very unique, to say the least. From weeklong camp meetings to the brass spittoons conveniently located at the end of each pew, these churches and their members certainly create some intrigue.

The camp meeting began with the early pioneers and their need for religious services. Early on, these settlers had no physical building in which to attend church. They would simply hold services in a designated area at a designated time. Like a modern revival, camp meetings would last for days. Living more than a few miles away from the meeting location meant a rough horse and buggy ride or either a long walk back and forth each day. Rather than endure these daily journeys, many camped out for the meetings duration, thus the name of camp meetings. 

Later on, after actual churches had been built, the camp meeting tradition continued and much of the preaching was held inside. In some more affluent areas, the luxury of outhouses were even added.

There would often be several preachers at these camp meetings and often each would speak for hours. As soon as one was finished preaching, another one started. As I mentioned, some of the more modern camp meetings were held inside. Not that the number of speakers was limited, but the seating in the picture was found behind the pulpit of an abandoned Primitive Baptist church. I can just imagine four sweaty, tired men sitting back there waiting for their turn to talk and yell about fire and brimstone. I can picture them dozing off but giving an occasional reassuring sign to the congregation by hollering “Amen!”.

One of my favorite jaw flapping buddies once told me that he remembered the camp meetings that were held at the church just up the road from where I live. He said that people would come from as far as 20 or so miles to attend. The attendees would from a large circle with their wagons and the camping area was inside this ring (much like cowboys would do when herding cattle across the country).

Primitive Baptists, or Hard Shells as some called them, differed from place to place. In my area they dipped snuff and chewed tobacco in church, hence the spittoons at the end of each pew (I can imagine that one’s spitting abilities could be judged by the amount of spit that adorned their pew neighbor’s shirt!). Back to the variances. Primitive Baptists used real wine for communion; however some members took this a bit to the extreme. As my above mention buddy once said “Some of em communed every day! Several times a day!”

The last service held at the Primitive Baptist Church up the road from where I live was a funeral service for a Mr. Wells in the 70’s. After the death of the last living church member, the church was simply forgotten. It remained as a sort of time capsule for over forty years; pews, chairs, altar and spittoons arranged as if service were soon to be held. In 2010 the church began to fall in. Thankfully, the items inside were rescued and given out to family members of those buried there.

These items are now sacred pieces of history to those that posses them. Although these things will not last throughout time, there are memories and stories that can be preserved forever. One such little story includes another unique aspect of the Primitive Baptists as well as some mischievous little boys. Stay tuned!

Hand-prints In Time....or In A Bowl

Bowls.

What was it with Aunt Deanie and bowls? Most of the time she ate out of a bowl and she made me do the same. They were very pretty bowls, but bowls all the same. Good thing I am not one of those “oh no my peas touched my taters!” kind of folks because by about midway through dinner you couldn’t tell where your peas ended and your taters began.

Turning on the faucet to wash your hands at Aunt Deanie’s was a no no. Every morning Aunt Deanie filled her big blue bowl, which I now proudly have on display, with water. She then placed the bowl and a bar of soap on a towel that she had laid on the counter. This setup served as the hand washing station and the water was not to be changed until she deemed the water “dirty.” Normally the water wasn’t “dirty” until late in the afternoon.

I loved washing my hands in the bowl. Of course I now wonder just how “clean” my hands actually were when finished washing.

After Aunt Deanie died, at age 93 (she had appendicitis and would not let the doctors do anything about it), we found little bowls of buttons, bowls of nails, bowls filled with sewing needles, bowls of keys to who knows what and bowls filled with little doohickeys and thing-a-ma-bobs. Like most of her generation, she was a saver of any item that could possibly have any use at all in the future. After all, who knows when you might need a bowl full of miscellaneous keys?

Last week my girls and I, as well as one of my nieces, put some new flowers on Aunt Deanies grave. As we walked by her grandparent’s graves and then her parents’ graves; I thought about a very special bowl. I had been using this dense, homemade, concrete bowl as garden décor. There in the cemetery I recollected upon the bowl and what Aunt Deanie had told me about it. Aunt Deanie said that her mother made it and it was the only thing left that that really reminded Deanie of her Mom. Aunt Deanie picked up the bowl and with tears in her eyes placed her hands inside the indentions made by her mother’s fingers.

Aunt Deanie used this bowl to water her chickens. Long after the chickens were all gone, the bowl continued to rest under the spigot. I don’t know if the bowl was kept outside because it evoked too many emotions or if was simply left there in case it were ever needed again to be used as a watering bowl.

I can tell you that the bowl is no longer in my flower bed, but now sits in my China cabinet among my much daintier and delicate pieces. Although the bowl is definitely not China; it is, to me, one of my most valuable pieces. It now stands as a reminder of the little things that make life wonderfully weird and simply grand, like family (yes some of you are big weirdos and that’s why I love you!), bowls and even peas touching your taters.

Ordering Canvas Photos

This is THE BEST place to order canvas prints.




A review of Canvas on Demand can be found here by clicking on the link below.


Canvas on Demand Review


Canvas on Demand also has a pretty good promotion going on right now. Use the coupon code below for $10.00 off.

Great Place To Order Photo Books

In my last post, I mentioned that I print out entire photo albums, rather than individual photos. The company I use is called My Publisher (button below). There are many other great companies you can use, but I like My Publisher the best. There is a download, but it is well worth it. You can just open it up and start creating your album. My Publisher has frequent promotions. The last mini-book I ordered was free, no shipping, nothing.. FREE! I love FREE!

Name That Picture!

We take pictures at birthdays, graduations, holidays, vacations and other special events. These photographs create a record of life and solidify our memories. School pictures are taken every year. T-ball, softball, basketball….you get the point.

Most of us omit writing names and dates and other important information on the backs of these photographs. We think that we will always recognize the people in the pictures and we fool ourselves into thinking we will  remember the whens and wheres and whats. Future generations that may inquisitively view our pictures are rarely considered. 

I often find myself looking through a photo album and asking myself, “Now was that my daughter's 2^nd or 3^rd birthday party?” Thankfully, I am a photo freak and the answer can be found on the back of the picture. I HATE writing names on pics. It drives me crazy (short trip), but it is a must do! I have begun printing entire photo books with the names listed below the picture, rather than individual photos, so I can avoid the monotonous hand labeling process. 

I have around one-hundred lonesome, old pictures that are sadly, unlabeled. These scenes and these people were important enough to be photographed and I know I share a connection with them, somehow, but their exact kinship, in most cases, will forever be a mystery.

I am very thankful to two of my best buds, Chris and Ben, for helping me put names to some of these faces. It’s amazing the stories that can be evoked by a 60, 70, 80+year old picture. Simply amazing.

Now folks, please do your kids, your grand-kids, your great-grand-kids, etc. a favor. Print your pictures!  Write the names and any necessary details on the backs of your pictures! Hopefully we’ll all be lucky enough to have at least a few descendants that actually care about these things as I do.

Now to the current picture in question, which HAS NOTHING WRITTEN ON THE BACK.  I am thinking the people in this photo are probably Compton’s and if I ask the right people I can probably get some names. However what perplexes me more is what the heck they are doing. Initially I thought it was a glass bottom boat.  Then….the only other thought that came to mind was that they were sitting around the #23 mining shaft waiting for the door to open so that they can snap pictures of a  gnome riding by in a mine cart, however that is probably not so.

Maybe the caption to this photo is an easy one that I am just not getting. Anyone who can fill me in, has any guesses, etc. Please post.