Among my family heirlooms is this ledger, which is basically a handwritten genealogy database.
Long before there was a Family Tree Maker or an Ancestry, my great grandpa used this to track his history.
Among my family heirlooms is this ledger, which is basically a handwritten genealogy database.
Long before there was a Family Tree Maker or an Ancestry, my great grandpa used this to track his history.

On Wednesdays we go way back. This week’s photo is my mom Nancy (the baby), between her mother Elise (left) and her grandmother Sarah (right).
I love unposed moments like this, when people were just being themselves. But I also can’t see it without some poignancy.
I know what they can’t: That Nancy would adore her grandmother, but struggle with her own mother, all their lives. She was caught between them here, and would be often as she grew up.
Sarah and Elise were actually stepmother/stepdaughter, and their own relationship was frosty.
There’s a lot of frustration in this photo. There’s a lot about love, mothering, disappointment, failure, and the ways we keep trying.
Just trying to hold it all together.
In early February, when All This began pulling its long shadow over our lives, I joked to my husband that I might be particularly well-equipped to handle the situation.
I’m a homebody by nature. All my hobbies are domestic, or can be done at home. I can already make bread or provide a decent chicken soup for the invalid. And I’ve read plenty about the influenza epidemic of 1918. I was made for this, I told him. We both laughed.
Part 1 of the Inglis family story
Landlocked
Where else would the world-traveling, ship chandling Inglis family land but…Iowa?
When I think about my genealogy subjects — my dead people — I like to amuse myself by picturing a waiting room. By that I mean an actual modern waiting room, full of non-modern people.