Wondering Mind Wants to Know

It’s one of those nights when my mind is wondering what to write for my blog. My mind is wandering through ideas trying to sort one out that is more than my usual ramblings. One of the characters one of the books I’ve written was named Loquacious. She said her mother named her that and she has always tried to live up to her name. Sometimes I feel that way. I think too often I say more than I need to say trying to explain fully my thoughts. That’s why I limit the number of words I use in my blog or I’d ramble on for several pages.

You’d think in 72 years I’d have enough stories to write them down for the rest of my life, I think often memories are like the pages in a book. Once you’ve read the page, you tend to forget it unless it was outstanding. And just how many of those stories are remarkable.

Unless someone or something reminds me of the content on that page turned, it remains stuck somewhere in the middle of the book, silent unless reread. When I started to write my blog, I was adding a new story each and every day, but found that I had a harder and harder time thinking of themes to pen down. I backed off only adding a new post on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, but recently I share a family history posy on the national Minerd-Minard-Miner-Minor Website because I was weary of seeing postings of obituaries and invited others of the clan to add weddings, graduations, and births. I want to share memories of my ancestors and stir memories in others of the clan across the United States. I share stories. I am a very poor genealogist and am thankful for those people who have the patience and the resolve to do that tedious work.

There is one gentleman who is a member of the Chestnut Ridge Historical Society who has an encyclopedia for a brain with family histories. He has back up on his computer with thousands of names and who is related to who, who married who, and the names of their kids. He keeps the names and dates of the family trees. I just water the stories to keep them alive, hoping they don’t grow in my retelling like the tales my uncle Dale Miner would embellish.