The Memory House

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Why is it about moving that is good for the soul, but it also feels like your heart being ripped into a million pieces at the same time?

In every house I’ve ever lived or much less stayed a few nights in, I usually remember maybe a couple of small details of it, it really just depends on whatever happened there. I don’t know why my mind allows me to be haunted by these things but it does. However, there was one house that has a lot of good memories attached to it, so much that it stings of the situation that bubbled up to the surface recently.

My grandparent’s house that has been in my family for decades. If you’ve read my earlier posts about “the aunts” as I’ve recently figured out they are my great-great aunts. They’re parents George and Olive lived there before them, and I think it was only Regina (Ra-kee-na), Lula, and Elsaleah that spent their entire lives there and then my grandparents moved in to help but after all of the aunts died, they were just left with the house. The only difference was instead of it having elderly people in the household, now there were grandchildren around and we began to spend our birthdays and holidays there as a family.

I’ve spent countless days there throughout my life. I’ve slept on the couches and floor, trying not to look up the dark staircase. I’m pretty sure this is where my paranoia really flourished because I remember my papaw saying that there was a ghost up there. When my sister got her first iPod, she had an app that told you whether a room was paranormal or not, well this always seemed to fire up their dog Casey and once Blondie would come into the kitchen they’d race off into the living room, a half dead iPod in head ready to find the ghosts! This did nothing for my anxiety over the years I have to say!

I would go into the living room every once in a while, I would never go in there by myself though. I always went when somebody else was in there with me. However, my papaw would like to play piano in the most random times of the day, mostly when everybody was talking the mouths off, so mostly me! I would stop the conversations sometimes because I would hear these noises and realize they were papaw upstairs probably either destroying something or like I said, playing some notes on the piano. I remember a few times that I just sat on the floor by the couch and listened to him play a few keys and then watched him leave without ever saying anything about how I got there. He knew though. Once he’d leave the room, I would debate whether or not to head back into the kitchen or not to join the rest of the hens.

As I got older the house started to represent something else entirely. Since our house was so wacky I was unable to do things for myself. I was also growing (weight wise), so my family has a difficult time getting me on and off the floor. I started to feel really restless I think, and I didn’t hit my breaking point until one Christmas. I was really wanting to create homemade gifts for my family and I thought it would be a good idea to do it with my dad but I later realized that it wasn’t… He bought everything and he ended doing it all, within four days later I asked my nana if she’d feel comfortable in helping me do the crafts next year because there was no way in heck I was allowing that to happen again. If you didn’t know the background story to the annual DIY Christmas gifts, now you do!

I think that was the same year that I was given the freedom to really do things for myself. I’m only so limited to things in my room because whenever I’m in my wheelchair, the room itself gets smaller! So when my nana was letting me do things for her, like clean and organize different areas of her office or kitchen – since that was our most popular place for our talks and had the most light and space in the entire house to work on our crafts I began to enjoy it more! And I even have memories from my days in preschool where it was time to clean up from recess and as everybody was cleaning up, I’d be cowering underneath the table! I hated cleaning as a child, but since I was allowed to do what I wanted like organize in whatever way I saw fit I began to fall in love with it. Of course, asking your parents if you could your room with no seatbelt so you could reach better does not do anything to calm their nervous, but it is fun to watch them squirm I’m not going to lie!

The last two or three years were spent on trying to decorate cakes and sugar cookies. Creating our first (and probably last) Christmas bark ever! I figured out how to put on a fairly large trash bag on the can itself and open up a pop can with my toes! Towards the last I finally figured out how to open the refrigerator and that took a lot longer than I wanted to honestly! Why do they have to make those doors so heavy is beyond me!

It’s strange one of the last memories of being in that house is of me cleaning out an area of papaw’s room that I was hoping would become my office. An act of freedom that I was given became something that I did not want to do, you know? It was only fairly small corner of the room that was full of things that would come to live in my room. It feels weird to have these pieces of furniture that belong in different places in that house that are no longer there, it’s an empty space now.

I’ll remember the large amounts of light green on the interior, from the walls to the shaggy, 70’s carpet that did not like push wheelchairs. Okay, so I won’t exactly miss the carpet itself but perhaps only the feel of it.

The pink (or peach, the exact color is debatable), white, and blue bathroom that in the beginning of time didn’t exist. George and Olive had an outhouse! It wasn’t until later that they added it in and made it the smallest room in the whole house! The closets had more room than this sucker! Sidenote: The doorways weren’t made for wheelchairs either!

Always calling the kitchen the front end of the house. Nana would say all the time to us that where the kitchen was places was really a back porch, when they put in the bathroom they redid the kitchen too and added on bigger cabinets and put in a cold linoleum floor that even in the hot summer you could sit on it and your butt would feel pretty nice. However, the winter it was just standard to wear blue jeans or just stay out of there because it was so damn cold!

One of the hardest memories that’s going to be difficult to cure is whenever we’d leave the house, they lived on a block so there was two ways you could leave (well, technically three if you could park into the driveway and go to the right line) and those paths there’s some distance but they could always hear us holler bye and they’d wave with their hands or do the symbol for “I love you” in sign language as we took off to go home.

Since this has happened I often wonder if there will be a house I will live in that will make feel these things ever again? Will I continue to collect memories from every house I enter? It’s a big possibility. You’re never fully ready to put your trust into anything or apparently leave everything behind but it’s part of life. You go on and parts of me think I will be back, back then I thought it was because I’m always coming back but then once the decision was made that the house would be sold I still had that feeling. I think it’s a form of denial but who knows, maybe God or some universal divine will take me back to the memory house.

snowflake

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I’m An Onomastic!

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Hi 🙂

There is something you can catch me doing on Sundays. No, I don’t lounge around, well maybe sometimes, but most of the time I’m asking for our local newspaper looking at the birth and obituaries sections. Don’t worry, I’m not one of those creepy people who look at who’s died looking for a date. I look up and down the two rows at the beautiful names of children who were born in the last two weeks or so. I can’t quite explain why I do it or how it got started, I’ve just been addicted to asking for the paper on that specific day. I’m not interested in the news articles, just this part.

I wish I could say it was my only outlet but it’s not.

When I started Pinterest back in 2012, I was searching other boards and one day I found a board full of names! I found so many good ones that I didn’t just want to “like” each one so I ended making them a board. And then a couple of years later I made up another (secret) board of names for characters that were stuck in the depths of my mind. Luckily for me, there is actually a big difference between these two boards. One has more modern and classic baby names whereas the second has forgotten and out of the box names.

Here are some examples:

Baby Name Board:

Hazel | Paige | Abigail | Otto | Leon | Lachlan

Character Name Board:

Oryn | Zachari | Leopold | Tarina | Isadora | Annika

After watching so many episodes of Jeopardy, I actually started to see more and more contestants say they’re also obsessed with names as well, but there is actually a name for it. It is onomastics.

I am into is where the names originated, like my name: “Meghan” is actually Greek, which shouldn’t had surprised me as much as it did but I thought it was pretty neat though! I tend to love names from different countries like Denmark, France, Ireland, Italian, and Sweden. I also love names that were made up from stories like Shakespeare (despite the fact I can’t read his stories for the life of me!). I had always heard that Mr. Shakespeare is the one who came up with “Jessica” I still don’t know if this is true, and then of course you have mythology! I love the Celtic, Egyptian, and Norse mythology names! I have contemplated about using the names “Seti” and “Ra” in my children’s names!

When I first started looking into the large branches of the British monarchy, I realized they had very long names. One time I saw where they had seven middle names–not counting their first and last names! This person was actually Mary of Teck or later known as Queen Mary who married King George V in the early 1900s. “Mary” is actually her first middle name while her first was “Victoria” but her family called her “May.” As I’ve found the middle names are usually driven from previous family names. Mary would have been a young girl when Queen Victoria was still queen, but I have no idea about the rest.

Where is it in time frame where they start adding onto the names? I haven’t exactly figured this out yet as I’ve just figured out of the century of the War Of The Roses! I’m also curious on how open were they to give their children different names too? I’ve just recently found the name “Susan” while researching a former duchess on Facebook. It was the first one I had seen dating back to the 1500’s.

Now when you look back further their the history books, around the time when you have the Plantagenet and Tudor families where they only had one name. For explain King Henry VIII’s first daughter Princess Mary, is just simply Mary Tudor. Same goes for Queen Elizabeth I, she was just referred to Elizabeth Tudor. If she hadn’t became queen, I think some people would have gotten confused while researching the Tudor dynasty as King Henry VIII also had a younger sisters by the name of Princess Mary and Elizabeth.

For this next part I thought I’d share some of my favorite names and explain that some belong in other categorize too! So maybe if you’re expecting or love names just as much as I do, they will become some of your favorites too!

Classic:  Isabella, Victoria, Eleanor, Anne, Theodora, Cecily, Naomi, Albert, Edgar, George, Louis, Michael, Nicholas, Philip, Richard, Samuel, and Vincent.

French Names: Blanche, Celeste, Camille, Agnes, Alexandrine, Augustine, Bastien, Claude, Emeric, and Ernest.

Irish Names:  Aoife, Bridget, Fiona, Eabha, Moira, Oona, Siobhan Ronan, Declan, Donal, Liam, Mahon, Owen.

Out Of The Box: Piera, Olympia, Wilhelmina, Evanna, Reverie, Atlas, Thompson, Calix, Hugo, Audric, Henrik, and Micah, 

Are you interested in names? What are some of your favorites? I really want to know, so please tell me some in the comments!

snowflake

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Anne Boleyn: More Than The “Second Wife”

Hi 🙂

Today is an interesting day and in ways kind of morbid too. Why? Because it is the anniversary of Anne Boleyn’s death. The second wife of King Henry VIII and mother of Queen Elizabeth I.

Since I am so into history, especially British royals I feel like Anne and Henry’s love story is probably the most interesting! I have over 7 different groups and like pages just on Tudor royals, whether they’re a bunch of authors and historians or actors who make their own Tudor dresses and parade around at fairs, it’s an exciting escape from the boredom I tend to find on my Facebook! I think for fans who love celebrities they either find the person from the end or in the middle of their careers. I have certain “obsessions” like that too, but Anne and Henry’s relationship is something totally different. I know how it got started, when they were finally married, when she was banished from court to finally her execution.

I feel conflicted when I play with the question if I were alive at the time of Anne Boleyn and King Henry VIII’s reign, how much would I support the marriage and future Queen of England. I also think that if I was transported there I would either be studied by the want-to-be-physicians or left for dead by my family because you know I’d be born with my disability! I just feel like I wouldn’t probably feel as I do about Anne, which sucks because I would believe all of the rumors than the woman that is our Queen. However, since I’m not, I get to show my support to this woman of power in her right.

She was one of the most influential women of that time period; some people would consider the amount of control she had over the king as witchcraft, but I think it was a partnership, between these two power houses. First you have, King Henry VIII being controlled by the Catholic church and the Pope, while Anne is part of the Reformation and is Anglican. As much as he found Anne attractive, she was of different religion and one that was unfavorable to the people of England. The fact that she broke him away from the Catholic way and his most trusted Cardinal Wolsey (he did that all on his own when he failed to get an annulment from Katherine) is amazing!

The second is that she never fully gave herself to him in the beginning and this is probably the most fascinating part of the whole thing considering while being married to Katherine of Aragon, he had multiple mistresses, not just Anne. She was the only bold one to tell him “no” whenever he offered more. We know that because he had a relationship with Lady Elizabeth Blount, while she was one of Katherine’s ladies in waiting, but she also gave him a living son. Despite the fact that she was already married and the child was considered a bastard, he was loved by his father, the King.

I think Anne Boleyn deserves an award for keeping her chastity during the relationship! For a man, who obviously didn’t have any control on his sexual appetite, I find this long wait to be almost frightening – I’m imagining this King who knows he can get anything he wants and can get bored easily with the ones he has relations with, as we see later in his life. I wonder how much confidence she truly had within herself to keep this relationship going. That’s something we’ll never really know, because I mean we know they “loved” each other, but he had six wives and two of those wives were beheaded!

She made a mistake shortly after giving birth, she gave birth to a girl: Princess Elizabeth, not a strong male heir like Henry had wanted from the get-go. This was another reasons why he wanted an divorce from his first wife Katherine of Aragon, mother to his other daughter Princess Mary. Katherine was previous married to his older brother Prince Arthur, but he died and Henry had married her but later feared that the first marriage was consummated, which he used against her to fight the Pope. Once Elizabeth was born, Anne would have miscarriages. She still wasn’t fulfilling the dream for the both of them. Shortly after that, he started seeking the affection from one of her own ladies-in-waiting, Jane Seymour. The theories are that the accusations of Anne convicting of adultery, incest and plotting to kill the king were enough to see a future with Jane, while Anne and the other unfortunate souls were arrested and sent to the Tower of London and they were all eventually beheaded in 1536,

As far as my opinions of her downfall, I think she was tricked. She wasn’t supported among the king’s people for the obvious reasons, so I think they were out to get her from the start of everything and once she wasn’t having any sons, people sort of put their plans in motion. However, as influential as she was with her husband, I have to keep an open mind of her making a mistake, I feel she might’ve gotten cocky in her role and panicked after when he became interested in Jane Seymour. I think she was desperate to give him a son an heir plus if she did this, she could be able to stay at court with her husband and children.

I often wonder if the Queens knew their husbands were sleeping with their ladies in waiting, why didn’t they just sent them away? If Katherine of Aragon had dome this to Anne, would she have been queen and given birth to Elizabeth? Again, another theory I’ve always had!

If I could get myself to sit down and write out a whole post or possibly multiple blog posts on the amount of history I have learned since I was a kid, I would do it in a heartbeat. After being able to share my knowledge about the vegan world, I would like to explore that side of myself with you, take you into what’s really stored inside my brain. You should feel thankful that I’m even considering this idea at all, but it is still early and you could not even like this post and then I wouldn’t have to say anything. I guess we’ll just have to find out what sort of information you would like to see more!

Would you like to read more historical posts on here? I would share how I got started on each one. I’ll also try to include some references as well! Let me know!

snowflake

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From The Days Of Courting

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Howdy!

Happy Valentine’s Day to all of my readers out there. Whether you’re in a relationship going out for date later tonight or sitting at home on your couch drinking a glass (or a whole bottle) of wine, I just wanted to tell you that you’re beautiful and loved just the way you are! ♥

I wanted to do something a little differently for Valentine’s Day. We need to talk about a time where “courting” wasn’t such an old couple, grandparent kind of thing. You never really hear the word unless you watch the many TV shows about the Duggars, as they don’t use the term “dating” they say “courting” because it has a different meaning entirely. Dating could be for a couple of months to a year whereas courting is being with someone with the intention of marrying.

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Today, I’m talking about the days of my grandparents’s days of courting. I wanted to say a little bit after my papaw passed away last year, someone found a strange long box that was used to store Penicillin. It was fastened together a few rubberbands with the words, “save” and “mom + dad, love letters” and at the other side of the lid there is a medium size heart filled in with a red marker. I remember looking through it because it reminded me of my Great Grand-Uncle Gen and Aunt Mary’s love letters that they had written to each other. I think the only difference is that theirs were written while they were married, and my grandparents started to write while she lived up north and he worked down south, it’s roughly 2-3 hours between both places depending on how fast you drive!

When she showed me the box for the first time, I wanted to write up the blog post that day but I kept putting it off for some reason. And then while everybody was down for his birthday, my nana brought it out of his room and showed them to my mom and Aunt Laurie. They spent a good half hour just reading different ones and realized that my nana was a little minx while reading several of the letters! The first time they wrote to each other was Christmas Day 1961 and they stopped in 1962 when they were engaged and married. The big story is that my papaw was going to propose to her in March, the 13th to be exact, but he’s always been a little superstitious so he ended up waiting until the last of March or first week of April to ask for her hand and then they finally married that summer.

My papaw always had “bad” handwriting since I’ve known him. It was brought on by his work as a pharmacist, he had to write pretty small on everything. We still have big pieces of paper where you have very tiny handwriting in different places. So when I went through the box to take pictures, I wasn’t finding any of his letters, just nana’s. My nana doesn’t have this problem, she has very sophisticated cursive and whenever she goes quickly that’s when it can get really hard to read. Trust me, everybody has to ask her what a certain word is on her grocery list if they cannot read it themselves. The really sad part about it is that sometimes she doesn’t even know what she was saying! So we have to guess or just cross it off until two days later, she’ll figure it out!

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One thing that I think is very cute, and nana still think it is too! At the end of the of their letters, besides a “PS” section here and there, they’d end the letters with a “I love you” of course but she would add a hundred “xoxo” signs but she found one of his with the hugs and kisses basically trailing off the page when he ran out of room. I’ve done that before, but it’s a pretty sweet gesture coming from him!

Hope you enjoyed this post and didn’t think it was too sappy for your tastes!

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Have you ever found old letters from your parents or grandparents before? What are your thoughts on the whole “dating” vs. “courting” thing? I want to know where you stand as far your opinions of how dating has become and what we see as “courting” in the older generations?

snowflake

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The Definition Of A Love Letter

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Howdy!

I know a lot about writing love letters, but I tend to think they were more like little notes that you folded up so small they could fit into the palm of your hand or in my case in between my toes! I think an actual love letter is different. I look at soldiers years ago and their wives or girlfriends, writing back and forth to each other throughout the course of a few months or a year while they’re away.

In November 2015, my nana was busy cleaning out a section of her office. She went through her drawers and found a lot of things belonging to the aunts. I’ve tried to do a few posts of the aunts here and there. I like the fact that they are considered “The Aunts” in my family, even though they’re like my great-great aunts. They were my papaw’s aunts, as his father was their brother.

The aunts were very proper, like extreme! However, I’ve been told they are also very sweet too. I had a total of four aunts: Mary, Regina (Ra-kee-na), Elsaleah, and Lula. The one I am going to be talking about on today’s post is Aunt Mary, she married a man named General, and we thought the recent generations were bad! He was mainly called “Gen” in the family. He died sometime in the 80’s, way before I was born, but they had been married for 77 years! Mary died in the early 00’s, because I remember seeing her a couple of times in the nursing home and going to her funeral. It was my first funeral and surprisingly, I remember a lot more than I probably should since I was like in the first grade!

While my nana was going through the drawer, she found a huge envelope full of Aunt Mary’s things. According to her, she wanted to be buried with them. including her love letters that were from and to her husband Gen. I thought it was a sweet gesture to want to be laid to rest with them by her side, but somehow in the process of dying and having the funeral, the letters were never sent with her, which is really sad if you think about it. However, when nana showed me her pictures of her life as both a teacher and wife to Gen, she has a totally different personality as I thought as a child. She was a scary woman whenever we’d visit her at the home!

As much as I wanted to respect their privacy, I wanted to do a blog post about these letters. My nana found these old torn up letters written by Gen himself. There was one she could tell he had written it to her before they were married because it still had the date on it, the rest we had trouble decoding! My nana attempted to read the torn up letter, there were a few words ripped out of it but I have to say they were so sweet! It was strange to read somebody’s words in such a loving way. He called her different names like “sweetie pie” and “marigold” and he wrote the letters as if he was talking to her face-to-face. They were deeply in love. I understood why she wanted these things to be buried with her, she wanted these things close to her. This was the definition of a love letter to me.

They never had children, but he had a son with his first wife, by the name of Bruce. He married and had a son himself, named PM. Do you remember that name from my summary post? He is the grandson of Uncle Gen. I’ve been trying to figure out a way to explain how that works after I put it into that post! Gen and Mary were both teachers, both had their master’s degree! She taught sixth grade and could he taught a math and science teacher, plus he was a track coach (he coached his grandson PM when he was in school!) and Mary was a librarian in our hometown.

There was something else that I thought was a little adorable was the fact that they both loved to garden. They would raise rose bushes, at one time they had over 200 roses in various colors! My nana said that Gen would get really into it and would have hybrid roses, which I thought was pretty cool!

What do you think defines a love letter? Do you have any cringing moments in school where you sent a note to a boy or even a girl that you liked them?

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snowflake

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