Awhile back I swabbed my cheek and sent it off to find out who I am. Well, let me tell you. Forty percent of my genes originated in Kenya. Less than ten percent are Western European. The majority of the rest of my maternal DNA is Eastern European. Latvia, Slovenia. Hungary, Croatia. And on and on. And my mother-in-law thought she married a Bohunk.
This all is my “motherline”. Lacking a Y chromosome, my father’s ancestry cannot be traced. I would need to persuade a male relative to contribute a swab of cheek cells, too. I am totally out of brothers, and down to three nephews, one of whom might be willing to participate.
My mother was two percent Irish, half Ulster and half Cork. My Dad was all Irish. I think. It may be worth asking my nephew to participate, simply to learn where those ancestors migrated from, to Ireland.
And, how about Sweet Home, Alabama. I am so proud of all the African American women and men who sent Doug Jones to the senate to fill Jefferson Davis Sessions’ vacated seat. A lot of groups reclaiming their voice.
I went to breakfast this morning with the friend I first made in the counselor’s offices; the one who got a sweet note from my brother Mel, when they were fifth graders. Most of my friends are like minded, and Linn and I exchanged a happy high five across the table this morning. Mel reveled in politics; Watergate was his specialty. Were he alive today he probably would be constantly apoplectic. Mel had one daughter; Walt had the three boys.
The quilt we commenced last night apparently is a “meant to be”, too. You know how some things just fall into place. Simple pinwheels though they be, Laura is setting the blocks so nicely that it hurts my heart to quilt this with a sewing machine. My sister quilts professionally, but I know full well her schedule is booked six months in advance.
Laura, sewing blocks last night
I also know things happen, so I called her today and told her about the quilt that deserves professional quilting—before Christmas. I explained Laura’s beautiful sewing (Jan expected no less; Laura was the meticulous student!), and said my plan was to ask Kay to present the quilt top only to her mother and then bring it back from Texas to be quilted, or, was there the teeniest, tiniest possibility Jan had time to squeeze in a not difficult queen sized quilt before Kay and her boys left for Texas.
Finished pile right, a few left to do, left
If we deliver the quilt next week, before Friday, Jan can do it on Friday. We certainly can deliver it in good time. Laura and I fly to Wisconsin that Friday, but Kay can find her way back to Jan’s studio, in plenty of time before she leaves Saturday to drive to Texas. I do like this sort of present.
Why we cover potential cat futons