Stories…Yes…but No Room at the Inn…
For the family mired in perpetual dysfunction…
Now that I’ve made every effort to ruin this most ‘sacred’ of consumer holidays with my ‘undesirable pessimism’, I’ll try to lighten the spirits a bit with some charming tales I’ve heard about my family history.
A lot of people place significant emphasis on notions of familial fidelity during these time, but I don’t. My gene-pool is an indifferently dysfunctional one and my life has been a hell of a lot more tolerable since I made the effort to distance myself from it. My ancestry, on the other hand, is worthy of interest.
Based on my known and demonstrable lines of descent, I can trace my ancestry back to both Sweden and the North of England, specifically Manchester Areas. So it’s good to know that I’m genetically somewhere between liberated and repressed. It fits really, because I’ve always had this sense of being at war with myself on a deeper level…
I can also, claim a bit of Civil War history considering that I have a maternal ancestor who can be confirmed to have fought in what I’m told is a somewhat significant battle in the Southern Missouri area. Also a fun fact, I can trace my line back to a ‘Captain Jack’ who was part of the British Navy at one point…
