Wednesday, 18 March 2009

Rain Rain Go Away

I took a vacation day today to start getting things done. The backyard is a disaster. I have a burn pile ready to go and a lighter in my hand. The Christmas tree must go, it should make for great kindling. The receding snow left piles of shit in the yard, even Tim Hortons coffee cups from God only knows where. Assorted toys, busted containers of varying sorts, garbage that fell out of the bins on the way to the alley, 5 cases of empty beer bottles, et al. Just shit. I wanted to get going on this mess today to force Spring.

But it's raining.

So, change of plans. I'm doing laundry and dishes, working on the family history website, playing with my daughter who's home for March Break, and later, as a reward, off to blow things up on the PS2. I will make up for the rain - some chores, some fun.

Spring will come - I demand it.

Cheers.

Monday, 16 March 2009

Things I must fix

A friend of mine at work was overly amused when I told her of my unique way of closing my busted back door. Well Mary, just for you, here it is in all it's reckneck glory...

Yup, it's a 2x4 wedged between the door and the side counter. Makes getting to the microwave interesting.

The door jam is falling apart and hence the door won't latch nevermind
lock. Until I have a chance to rebuild the entire door jam, this is locked.

Kim has taken to calling me Cleetus (sp?) I'm enduring the hillbilly jokes.
Barely.

The list of Spring repairs is growing. Besides the door, I have...

• Rebuilding the door jam and replacing the door on my son's bedroom
• Sealing the cracks in the foundation at the back of the house
• Sealing the leak in the cold storage room
• Repairing the back fence and hopefully finishing the remaining sections
• Taking the junk to the dump
• Getting rid of the concrete debris I dug out of the ground last year while
repairing the sidewalk
• Finishing the hallway painting - stopped when I realized my ladder not only was insufficient, it was non-existent. (hint hint)

Lots to do with a limited budget. We
knew when we bought this house, being that it was 80 years old, that there would be much to do. It amazed me just how much. Most of it is simple matters of bringing things up to code. We replaced old windows and doors, fixed electrical issues, fixed walls, plumbing and the like. Other projects like the new patio, backyard walk, painting, and landscaping were more to make this place livable without putrid colour
walls.

I think the projects that creep up on you unexpectedly are less daunting. When you suddenly have to change all your plans to replace a ceiling that falls down there's no time to get upset about having to do it. At a certain point you have no choice.

Here's the aftermath of my kitchen ceiling collapsing. The light scared the hell out of me. The ceiling was leaking near the light, when it was down we realized it was leaking right above the light fixture. taking it out to replace it I realized the wiring was bare. The water was dripping on bare live wires for years!

We removed almost 50 garbage bags of pure shit from this mess. Never again.

I do enjoy doing the jobs around here,
I have put my heart and soul into many things that have improved our home with them, the lives of the inhabitants. It's nice to sit back with a cold one at the end of a job well done, or, just done... And admire one's handiwork. I'm not trying to avoid the work coming, on the contrary, I can't wait for a nice warm dry day to start. I just hate the 'list'.

The end result will be worth it. Here's my back yard after a couple of years of labour. Looks nice. still more to do, but I'm proud of it. This summer this will be my optional course. Maybe the trellis Kim asked for?


Cheers.

Saturday, 7 March 2009

Annoying Dead People

We've been tracing our family tree for years. Most times it's an intriguing pursuit, lots of research, scrolling through old documents on microfilm, old census records, and word of mouth from other researchers. It's really quite rewarding. But they can drive you nuts when you hit a brick wall. We hit the wall back in 1765.

We've always been stuck on the progenitor of our McCombs family in Canada, named Timothy; like that means anything to anyone reading this - like one of you is going to comment "hey, I know that guy, we had a Late at Starbucks last week".

Everything I have found on the family stops with this guy. No birth date or place, no death date or place, he just disappears from the records. Some of his sons are documented, hence me being on this earth. However, Timothy is a dud.

My sister and I recently found info on him, but in the most annoying manner imaginable. A contact is insisting he knows all about him, and the story, if released, would blow the lid off the family. He's the black sheep, and must be kept under wraps. He has been feeding us hints for the past couple of weeks, and I would like to shake him until he stops this little game. Timothy has been dead for close to 200 years. If he was a black sheep and did something horrendous, WHO CARES! He's my ancestor and the key to the genealogy of my family. I need to know without being fed little snippits and clues. If the info is out there, it shouldn't be kept hidden by someone who just feels like playing a game. This guy thinks the world will crumble if the crime is made public, and he wants nothing to do with it. Frankly, he doesn't have to. It wasn't his research, he just knows where the research is.

Here's the scoop. Timothy was living in the Niagara region at the outbreak of the war of 1812. His two sons joined up to fight with the Canadian Lincoln Flank Militia, supporting the British Army against the Americans. The only record we have of Timothy is that at the time he tried to join up, he was refused entry to the militia on the basis that he was 47 years old and 'infirm'. This puts his birth at 1765. He was too sick to fight. The great scandal is that in 1813, he sold his lands and headed off to the American side. He was a traitor to the British crown. There it is, the great secret is out. His sons fought on with the Canadians, eventually gaining pensions for their efforts and settled here, raised families, blah, blah, blah, hence, me.

Timothy was tried in absentia in 1818 by the British government as a traitor and found guilty. He was exiled from Upper Canada (present day Ontario). Ironically enough, he had been gone for 5 years at this point. The problem with this theory is that there is not proof given as of yet. Until we see the microfilm with his name on it, it's just a theory. But it at least clears up a mystery. Why is there no record of him in Upper Canada?

Timothy was originally from the US. One of his sons that fought in that war was John McCombs, born in Bennington Vermont, 1792. He died in St. Catherines Ontario, in 1865 after a long well documented life. So Timothy simply went back to his roots. He went back home. We can't find him there because nobody ever really looked there. We were still looking here.

Ok, so my GGGG grandfather was a traitor to the British Crown.

So what. The person who fed us this juicy tidbit thinks the world will end if this becomes general knowledge. So he's just feeding us clues. Well, here's a clue - IT IS GENERAL KNOWLEDGE. Just not by us. In the past couple of weeks we have pieced the clues together and realized that this has been all over the internet since at least 2000, we just weren't looking in the right places. Now, sis and I are on the hunt for the irrefutable proof.

Now the question turns to who was Timothy's father? The search begins anew. We have leads that place him in the realm of General Alexander Macomb and his family. We think Timothy was actually his uncle. General Macomb was the Commander of the American Army in the early 1820s, hero of the battle of Plattsburgh in the War of 1812, and son of a very well known trader from New York. A very rich trader (trader, traitor? Hmmmm).

Strangely, General Macomb's statue in downtown Detroit (conveniently located in Macomb County, Michigan), is the perfect likeness of my great uncle, Theodore McCombs. A humble farmer from Essex who died in 1971. Uncle 'Doke' lived his entire life just 40 kms from the General's hometown of Detroit. I live 2 kms from that statue. Strange how things work themselves back around. The Macomb family lived in Detroit before it was part of the US. When it was still a french colony. The family also owned Grosse Isle, a large island downriver from us at the terminus of the Detroit River where is meets Lake Erie. Their history is well documented. Google 'The Macomb Purchase', and you'll see just how rich and powerful this family was. Great architects, military men, land speculators, and the like made the Macomb family a powerful influence on the infant United States. My line comes from the few of these men who wanted to move to Upper Canada, a british colony at the time. If the hunch is correct, I am related to this great American family.

It's not the only tie I have to the US. In the late 1700s, as the outbreak of the Revolution, my Depew family line was living a comfortable farming life in Bucks County, Pennsylvania. They were Tories, or supporters of the British Crown in the colonies. They lost everything when the patriots gave them, like thousands of other loyalists, the option of changing alliegence, or changing their addresses. The Depew and Cohoe families chose to leave. They lost everything and became refugees at the Niagara frontier. Some of them signed up to fight with the Crown, one in particular fought with the famous Butler's Rangers in the New York area throughout the revolution. He served with distinction and was granted land in what is now the City of Hamilton. We've even traced his lands to what is now the Stelco Steel plant along the waterfron of that city. We even have is actual petition for lands as a United Empire Loyalist.

So there, multiple connections to the US. I am a proud Canadian, and always have been. Lately, I have been seeing this connection more often and have a newfound appreciation for my roots. Although it's been 200 years since my family came here, the origins are almost certainly American.

We've even traced ancestry back to the great American frontiersman Daniel Boone, and loosely to Wyatt Earp (although this line is still speculative). Every family has their heroes and black sheep. We should all be proud of both. Both have shaped who you are. I like to think that I have a little bit of hero and a little bit of trouble maker in my blood. I'm not ashamed of Timothy, if indeed it proves true that he really did betray his country and his family. It's history. It's my history and I'm proud of it. I really don't think that the descendants of Benedict Arnold want him swept under the rug.

At the end of the day, the hunt goes on. There are more out there we haven't found, and for better or worse, I will accept them as my ancestors and be proud of my roots.

Cheers.

Thursday, 26 February 2009

Dreams and Regrets

The past week or so has been a time of reflection and solemn contemplation. I've found myself lately getting lost inside myself. Staring off into space with my head full of half-empty thoughts about what would be, what could be. What ifs.

I just spent the past little while wondering about the army. I wonder if the Windsor Regiment has room for a forty year old, out of shape ex-officer. I wonder. I've spent my whole life around the military, from my father's air force experiences to cadets, to my time as an officer with that organization, thoroughly the best time of my life, until it's crashing demise. As I sit here writing, I see my Queen's Commission hanging on the wall. A reminder of good times. Youthful times when I helped shape the mind of our young leaders. A time when coming home covered in mud and reeking of campfire and cordite was fun. I remember Kim directing me to the shower fully dressed in my combats, complete with boots as she held her nose. Good times.

I wonder if I could do it again? I know the reserves are looking for people, maybe it's what I need.

Then my mind wanders off again. This time to the resort town of Southampton, Ontario. My mother-in-law has a trailer there, and Kim practically grew up there. It's wonderful in the summer, a soft breeze off the lake and the sand in your toes. Wandering down main street on our way to get the best cheese bread in Ontario from the General Store, without really hurrying to do so. Canoeing the Saugeen River to Denny's Dam while the warm sun reminds you of just how relaxed you can really get. Pure zen. Kim and I priced real estate their years ago, I regret now never buying there. The prices have skyrocketed. I have a business idea in the back of my mind, it's been there for years. Working for myself, through the vacation off season, and taking the summers off to enjoy the river and the lake. Maybe someday.

Maybe.

Then there's the dreams that we all have - being financially stable enough to take my family to places we've only read about. First would be Rome. Then on to dreams unknown. I don't want to be rich, although I wouldn't complain, just comfortable enough to be able to do things without much thought involved. That could still happen, we've already come this far, it's not too much of a stretch to think we could make it here. Someday.

I've daydreamed about changing my career path lately. Maybe try something completely new, like construction. Or engineering, except that needs a higher level of math than I'm willing to admit I can manage. Whatever, as long as it's different. The army has been done, however much it's missed. The dream in Southampton is just that, a dream. Who knows, but a change. Just as long as it doesn't require a computer or people depending on me to fix theirs.

Regrets are what you have when you failed to pursue your dreams. I have many, like never taking drum lessons. However, I never regretted my marriage, I never regretted my children. They are my strength and my rock. I will try to reignite some dreams, I just haven't decided yet on which ones. Maybe none of these, maybe it hasn't come to me yet. Whatever it may be, I can't wait. I need to put regrets behind me and look to the future. After all, I'm only forty.

Cheers.

Tuesday, 17 February 2009

Eighties party update

OK, so we had our eighties party. The girls got dolled up in their best big hair and weird accessories, the guys wore T-Shirts and denim. We had the music going through dinner, yes, I did BBQ; then someone decided they'd rather be playing Rock Band. 

The eighties flew out the window at that point.

Cheers.