O Pioneer

My great great great grandfather, John Leonard Dickinson was a pioneer, true to the Dickinson way. Moving from New York State to Wisconsin in about 1856, he and his wife and several of their children remained there only a couple of years. By 1858 they had come to Minnesota, where he remained the rest of his life. Three of his sons, including my great great grandfather Theodore (husband of Emma) joined the Union Army for Minnesota. All three miraculously survived.

I've been searching for John's parentage for several years. Yesterday came a breakthrough from the researchers in Salt Lake City. They found land records indicating that John and his wife Harriet sold their New York property to Harriet's brother, Lawrence Mason. The land had previously conveyed to John by Joseph and Orrin Dickinson. I have other evidence that Joseph is John's father, and this could be the confirmation.

One more piece of the puzzle is coming into place, the research team at SLC will do a little more digging, and it's like waiting for Christmas to see what they unearth.

I feel time ticking away, I want to get this history into some sort of order to preserve it for whomever, in the next generation, or the next, becomes the "chosen" one, bitten by the genealogy bug. Made acquaintance this week with another cousin, a descendant of John L. Dickinson's brother, Richard. I have been seeking him for over a year, and finally had a response. He has some treasures to share as well, and I think again of how lives are entertwined like shiny and fragile threads forming a faint, almost invisible pattern over our country, and over the world.

Walden

I went to Walden Pond on one of my trips to Boston. We walked around it on the still primitive trail, along with a few other folks. There seemed to be a sort of reverence still attached to it - folks were very earnest looking, mostly quiet. The pond was not as large as I expected, and seemed rather modest especially in Minnesota terms.
Thoreau's cabin replica stands not too far off from its original site. My husband and I went to take a look, and I will never forget the sensation of peeking inside. I encountered a feeling of peace, completeness, and a sort of relief. It was so simple, small and snug, yet sufficient. Well, I would want indoor plumbing, I admit.
I've been going through a restless bit, or maybe a bit of stuckness. Not sure what the solution is, because I'm not sure I've identified the problem. I keep waiting for it to pass, and perhaps it will. I am also waiting to see what God wants to communicate to me through this. It's hard to wait. It's hard to listen.
I've put the little cabin on my screensaver, to remind me to keep it simple, to be ok with the waiting, and most of all, to "live deliberately."

"I come home to my solitary woodland walk as the homesick go home.I thus dispose of the superfluous and see things as they are,grand and beautiful. I have told many that I walk every day about half the daylight, but I think they do not believe it.I wish to get the Concord, the Massachusetts, the America,out of my head and be sane a part of every day." Henry David Thoreau
from the Journal (January 7, 1857)

Passion Flower

Ok, I realized that I have been giving in to 'blogging' for an audience as opposed to just doing my thing. No more of that. Yuck-orama anyway.

So here I declare to myself - get over it already and stick to the task at hand - tell your story for yourself, for your daughter, your family, your fantastic and amazing grandchildren, for all the interesting and unique people who came before you, who have no one else to tell their story. Play to my strength, my passions, and let the rest go.

Get on with it, then.