At Play In The Archive
Hello again, People.
The People of Pancho went dark unintentionally there for awhile; I’ve been busy catching curve balls from all directions, some of them work-related, some of them life-related. Funny how days of distraction turn into a week, and then into a month, and then suddenly it’s really, really hard to find my way back in, to get my groove back, as it were. I’m fighting the impulse to again say, “Tomorrow,” and instead beginning again today.
A couple of updates since my last post:
My trip to Napa to get translation help from Maren was great fun. We got some solid translating done — along with some delightful dining, shopping, and visiting — but because the writing on many of my great-grandpa Leo’s postcards is so small and hard to read, I have a great deal of scanning and image enhancement to do before we can make any real headway. Unfortunately, this task too got lost in the maelstrom that greeted me upon my return from that trip, so it’s something else I need to get back to.
(Lucky, lucky us: Maren, Grace, and I ate dinner at Michelin-star’d Bistro Jeanty in Yountville, where the executive chef, Philippe Jeanty, is an old friend of Maren’s, and consequently treated us like queens. Oh People, if you ever can go there, do!)
In other news, I was contacted by a 4th cousin (as predicted by AncestryDNA) who then found this blog and sent me an email. According to Ancestry.com, the possible connection between us might be Great-great grandmother Fanny’s father, Salomon Spielmann, but after Alisa and I compared notes in a long and wonderful phone conversation followed by several emails, we both doubt that this can be correct. Both of our Salomon Spielmanns were married to women named Marie, but their surnames were different. Hmmm. Nevertheless, Alisa shared some wonderful research resources with me, and between us, we’ll eventually get to the bottom of the mystery. She is a great deal more skilled in Jewish genealogical research than I am, so it’s been terrific to get a little help from someone who knows what they’re doing.
Finally, among the many curve balls of the past month (about which I will not bore you), the one truly responsible for my deep funk was the demise of our cat, Tucker, a beloved member of our family for 14 years. He died here at home, surrounded by the people who loved him, and in the arms of my elder daughter, who received him as kittenly ball of joy way back on her 7th birthday.
So long, sweet boy.