Happy Easter Eggs!

On this second day of Easter (most of Europe has two holidays!) allow me to reminisce.

Yesterday it was 22 years that we started our adventure in Ireland. We developed a tradition in our new home that we had brought with us from Germany.
Our neighbors’ kids were flummoxed that there was an Easter Bunny to visit German children that brought them sweets and colored eggs—even to those living abroad. In our first year we could see our new neighbors peep through their front windows. It wasn’t customary at the time to have an egg hunt in Ireland. In the following years we invited them to join us but often Mass took precedence so that they couldn't make it.Much to their chagrin.
Since the weather was often dreadful and our offspring couldn’t be relied on always finding what had been left for them in obscure places, we came up with a clever strategy. On Easter Sunday, Mac would take us through the gardens pretending to look for hidden eggs. He had all the goodies in his big overcoat and dispensed them furtively as he went along. Amy and Patrick hung back with me, thoroughly inspecting each shrub and little tree for possible hiding places. The garden was big enough for him to forge ahead without them noticing. This maneuver had a double benefit. Neither did the chocolates or colored and decorated eggs get soaked nor did we find surprises later in the year when some gardening was going on in that area. We also continued  the German tradition of decorating the house with fresh spring twigs and blossom, ornate  with decorated eggs, bunnies or butterflies.
The Ex Farmer's Wife

Celebrating Women in History

While almost all Americans can find themselves, their ancestors, or community through archive research, in celebration of 'women in history' , I urge you to take research a step further, document the influence of women on  your heritage through identifying, recording and sharing family stories.

It was through participating in a national celebration of Abraham Lincoln’s legacy that I understood for the first time, the impact of my family’s heritage, Quaker.  Basically, the Quaker culture views itself as a caretaker, not owner of property - a role which implies providing for the present without sacrificing the future. In my book – A Path Worn Smooth, which is dedicated to the people of my community Laurel Historic District - , I invite readers to walk on a path worn smooth by generational expectation. Savor nostalgia for the places that are near and dear to my heart, recall family traditions and more importantly, renew experiences. Challenging all to celebrate heritage because heritage is more than a possession, it is a gift: the birthright of our children.

So, to emphasize this gift, I want to share with you a few facts/stories that illustrate the influence of my legacy. Due to the influence of a Quaker value - equality, my grandmother directly inherited property from her father and transferred property to her daughters establishing a tradition that influenced the transfer of property directly from my Dad to me. 

As a result, the women of my Dad’s family were self reliant and saw themselves as a ‘caretaker’ working the land along side their husbands.  In my book, I share stories of these women and their influence from initial settlement of the Bolton property in 1838 to the present.  To hear an author interview, link to the Renee Bobb Radio Show -  or view an interview, link to Henrico County Hunt for History -   .

During 2011, my book was recommended by the National Women in History Project. Instead of highlighting national figures, the NWHP encourages individuals to discover stories about women in their own families and communities. Why? They believe awareness of the challenges these women faced, grappled with, and overcame can be an enormous source of strength to all of us.

Because I am a child of the era ‘tell instead of read’ me a story, I'm aware story-telling provided a rich resource for my family history. So, in my e-book edition, I included research tips and strategies which help enable identification as well as publication of family histories.  So, in celebration of 'women in history', won't you join me in an effort to encourage others to research and highlight their legacy. Together, let's insure family histories gathered through story-telling are recorded for the next generation. 


Sylvia Hoehns Wright resides in central VA on 7th generation property. For details of her activities, link to www.TheWrightScoop.com

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The Second Day of Christmas

For some it's not over.
Germany and many other European countries like France, Italy, Hungary, even the UK have a second Day of Christmas, with 'Boxing Day' being the better known name. In Serbia, Sweden, Croatia and Poland they celebrate it as St. Stephen's Day, the day of the first Christian martyr. In Ireland it's pronounced btw St.Stephense's Day). In the Republic of Ireland, the day is one of nine official public holidays. In Irish, it is called Lá Fhéile Stiofán or Lá an Dreoilín — the latter translates literally as another English name used, the Day of the Wren or Wren's Day. When used in this context, "wren" is often pronounced "ran". This name alludes to several legends, including those found in Ireland, linking episodes in the life of Jesus to the wren. Although now mostly a discontinued tradition, in certain parts of Ireland persons carrying either an effigy of a wren or an actual caged wren (live or dead), travel from house to house playing music, singing and dancing. Depending on which region of the country, they are called Wrenboys.

My son was born that day. I spent Christmas in labor and he was born on Christmas Day, if the second. We moved to Ireland when he was still very small. It was impossible to have a birthday party for the little boy. First of all, the Irish have big families and they all had to visit their relatives on that day. Second, Tipperary where we lived had the customary Wren boys doing the rounds on St.Stephene's day. Originally staging a fake wren shooting, tradition has it that a group of boys and young man dressed up and went from farm to farm singing and collecting goodies- sweets or pennies.
I once tried to give my son  summer birthday celebration in lieu of his real birthday he missed out on every year. Unfortunately, that didn't work out better because on 26 June the summer holidays and with it haymaking and other farmer activities where in full swing.
Everybody whose birthday is close to Christmas can sympathize.
Boxing Day was featured on the news here today as Mega Monday and in jeopardy because of a Tube strike in London. In Germany at least (as in some other countries) all shops are closed and the holiday is preserved. The word 'worker-friendly holiday' refers to the day of the week Christmas falls on and how many days a an employe has off. This year clearly was not.

Happy 2nd Day of Christmas!
The Ex Farmer's Wife

Thanksgiving--from the Perspective of a"Blow in"

(Due to moving the blog posts the dates of publication are off by 2 or 3. Sorry a bout that delay. Contents remain the same.)

Thanksgiving is a uniquely American and Canadian tradition. In Germany, where I grew up, I only knew it from that Thanksgiving Sunday in early autumn in the Catholic Church where thanks is given for a good year’s harvest. Some crops are brought in and put on display under the altar to be blessed. Ireland where I also lived hasn’t adopted this American holiday although it tends to follow American trends in many other regards.

So my exposure to American Thanksgiving is fairly new. It was only introduced into my life a few years ago by my new American husband. I read up on it and know that it originates from the first pilgrims. “When Europeans first arrived to the Americas, they brought with them their own harvest festival traditions from Europe, celebrating their safe voyage, peace and good harvest” (Wikipedia) and blended them with Native American harvest traditions.

Having read up on a topic is one thing; living it can be a different matter. Halloween feels equally strange to me. Our whirlwind romance catapulted me into the open arms of a welcoming family. Not being used to a big family, I find the big get togethers and their customs challenging. In Germany, we never ate turkey. I find the food pairings odd and am not aware of their symbolic meanings. Why pickles with turkey and gravy?  Bread rolls plus potato mash? The overflowing table and abundance of everything makes the Ex Farmer’s wife in me cringe when I think of all the starving people around the world and millions that go hungry in this country alone. In all fairness, not all left-overs go down the garbage disposal. The turkey will be served again in various forms until everybody is fed up eating it. Why not get a smaller turkey in the first place?

I should still embrace the day as one of purely saying thanks for the good life I’m enjoying. Deep down in my heart of hearts, I am grateful for the privileged life-style I’m enjoying. I’m grateful for the fact that my husband has a job and that he brings home the bacon while I can indulge my hobby, i.e., writing. I’m grateful for all my friends and the encouraging words and responses I’m getting from people who “befriend” me and that I’m “linked” to.

I’m grateful that my daughter started her first paid job and that my son will graduate next year too. I’m grateful that I have lived a life in countries with civil liberties and the freedom to express my convictions without persecution. I’m grateful that I was born into this world at this point in time and place.

Yet, being a person for whom the glass is always half-empty, saying thanks doesn’t come natural. Since I feel the years creeping up on me, the cynic in me wants to inject that what is left in the glass is evaporating fast. I would be more grateful if I saw my children more often than just a few days a year. I would be more grateful if my pain didn’t keep me from working in my job.  

Having been told to “Count my blessings” by my Irish housekeeper, I try to do that every day. Shouldn’t we all be grateful for what we have all year long, day in, day out? Do we need a specific day in the year to remind us?

I guess we do. Otherwise we would take it all for granted even more.

PS. My American family would find some German traditions strange too, I’m sure.
Happy Thanksgiving to you all! Siggy Buckley