mermaidcamp
Keeping current in wellness, in and out of the water
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I found one woman from Manhattan who was my ancestor twice. When her first husband died, she married and had another child. Both a daughter from her first and her second marriages became my ancestors. I have been thinking how odd it was that the step sister’s issue married 5 generations later. I decided 5 generations was enough genetic mixing, and since they were Knickerbocking there were few other fancy Dutch reformers to marry. This is not so odd. The truly striking coincidence in my tree is a royal Brit named John of Gaunt ( born in Ghent).
I have discovered that John of Gaunt is my ancestor three different ways, with three different wives, and of both of my parents. He was involved in a famous royal love affaire more bizarre than Charles and Camilla. He had a mistress, Katherine Swynford, who later married him. They had four children together, and as his last wife she acted as step mother to the children of his two previous marriages. Katherine and John had a daughter Philippa, who is 6th great-grandmother to Gov. Thomas Dudley of Massachusetts Bay Colony, my 10th great-grandfather.
At the end of October the costumes come out of the closet. This is the big masquerade time in the US. Other cultures have dress up traditions for Carnival and other holidays. The political side of costuming has always been woven into the idea of playing the role of another. Well known faces or looks are popular. In Tucson the Day of the Dead is celebrated in a grand public procession. The costumes in this event are not intended to mimic the living, but rather to show the look of the dead. The visit of the departed souls to earth is celebrated by glowing in the dark, dancing as skeletons, and enjoying the earthly pleasures our dearly departed ones chose while they were alive. The happy honoring of the souls of the dead is a symbol of our connection to all the generations who lived before us.
An armiger is a person who has the right to bear heraldry. In the United States there are no legal limits to bearing or designing your own coat of arms. In UK, Spain, Ireland, and Canada, places concerned with historical authenticity and royal ancestry, the use of the heraldry is regulated by law. I am not sure what would become of you if you went out with heraldry that was bogus to you, but it is against the law. The rest of us are free to create coats of arms for any occasion, on the fly.
When the Mayflower sailed to Plymouth the Pilgrims left the religious restrictions they had known in England. They took extreme risks to pursue religious freedom. They had their own costuming and strict code that bound them together in this adventure. They originated near Sherwood Forrest, fled for Amsterdam, then Leiden, arriving in 1609. The trip to America began there not only for the Pilgrims of Plymouth Colony, but for many branches of my family tree. It appears that almost all of my ancestors were anxious to high tail it out of Europe in the early 1600s. There is much research to be done, but it seems that they all took these risks sailing across the Atlantic because they had extreme convictions of various sorts. Some believed as traders and planters they would prosper and thrive. That seemed to be enough for the Dutch ones. The Brits and the French who sailed out of Leiden were all on big religious trips. As Thanksgiving approaches I am pretty obsessed with my Pilgrim ancestors and all their deets. I truly enjoy living vicariously through the discovery of the actual history of my ancestors.
After about three years of working on my family tree I have collected many coats of arms from my branches. The tree grows ever wider as it goes backwards in time. Some have heraldry. I was thinking about making a piece of art with some of them, and one that I make myself. The real ones have symbols that were meaningful to the family. Mine will have symbols that are enchanting for me. The Queen of your Own Life book includes guidelines for creating one’s own coat of arms, as well as a coronation ceremony to claim sovereignty over body, mind, and spirit. I adore the positive and contemporary way Queen Cindy and Queen Kathy present alchemy, ceremony, and magic. To eliminate the negative is to create space for the essence, the distilled spirit, the powerful talisman. I am pleased to live in a country where I can, as a queen wild and free, create and fly my own royal heraldry without fear of retribution by authorities. I plan to make use of this inalienable right. Have you thought about the symbols that you would use to express the essence of you?
All Souls Day in the Catholic tradition is a time to honor and remember the dead. In native belief systems of the Americas death played a central part. Making fun of death, or mocking the fanciest parts of life have gone together forever, everywhere. In Basel Switzerland I saw a collection of art from the middle ages portraying the same dancing skeletons used in Mexico to show death as a fiesta. Being mindful of mortality is known as memento mori. Skulls and other reminders of the transience of life were used in churches and religious settings. Ancestors graves have been a place of reverence for almost all peoples. Art depicting death in a whimsical or dramatic way has been with us in many cultures around the world. To remember mortality is essential to living a full life.
If there are rituals in the entire culture that honor the souls of departed there is a continuity. Fear of of death is made comical when portrayed as the dance of death or the fancy dressed skeleton. The folly of amassing worldly goods seems obvious when the fiddler and the dancers have nothing but bones and clothing. In 1839 the possibility of capturing the image of a dead person became very popular. I have seen quite a few graves embellished with photos. Others use symbols. Have you ever given any thought to your own death, your own grave and epitaph?
Tucson celebrates All Souls Weekend in a mixed tech cultural expression of art and celebration. By building personal or community altars, by artful masquerade, and by watching or participating in the procession Tucsonans have the opportunity to bring mortality to life. Come on down to the Old Pueblo for an old time custom revived.
In England the official night for bonfires is Nov. 5. In Britain it is officially to recall a plot to blow up the king in 1605. Lewis, a town in East Sussex, England is a special center for this holiday. In Lewis the processions of very fancy dress include 17 burning crosses, symbolizing 17 Protestant martyrs killed by Mary Tudor between 1555 and 1557. One of these martyrs was Rowland Taylor, my 10th great grandfather.
Rowland Taylor (1510 – 1555)
My 12th great grandfather was in the first settlement of Dutch immigrants in Manhattan. Guillaume and his wife Adrienne were in New Amsterdam in 1613 as part of the crew of the trading ship Tiger. The ship burned in the harbor. After your ship burns you have fewer choices than before your ship burned. They persevered, as was their way. I am a result of their persistence.
I am studying the alchemist archtype in my life. I have used the word vitriol, but have not associated it with alchemy until I found it in my reading yesterday. I purchased a beautiful book, Signs & Symbols by Beryl Dhanjal. In this excellent art and prose work I discovered that vitriol is an acronym, just like OMG. It stands for Visita Interiora Terrae Rectificando Invenies Occultum Lapidem,” “Visit the interior of the earth and rectifying (purifying) you will find the hidden stone.” The motto originated in L’Azoth des Philosophes by the 15th Century alchemist Basilius Valentinus. Both Alchemists and Freemasons use this motto.
In chemistry ancient science referred to sulfuric acid is vitriol. I have a strong memory of the alchemist in chief in my life, my father, teaching me to make hydrogen bombs. I was probably about 8. We dissolved magnesium metal bits in hydrochloric acid, but vinegar works, or any acid, I think. The combination makes hydrogen gas that when ignited, explodes. At school in the 1950s we had air raid drills about hydrogen bombs. At home I got to make them. Both my dad and I liked the little ones we made in test tubes, so we went big one day. He put the acid and the metal in a gallon jar, which was somehow closed and directed into a plastic tube about 30 ft. long. My dad had no experience in the hurt locker, just in fracking and blowing up oil reservoirs underground. My mother watched from the upstairs window horrified as my dad lit the end of the hose, which I think was supposed to blow a can in the air. The tube with the gas in it flamed across my dad’s beloved lawn and the glass bottle blew to smithereens. I was thrilled, but my father was significantly freaked out. I think we went on a hiatus from explosion chemistry for a while after that. I am pretty sure that is when I had to build the crystal radio. I remember not being nearly as pleased with that radio as I had been with our explosive past. It is good to have an alchemist for a father. They combine things that other fathers do not.

Santo Bassano My 12th great grandfather Birth 1440 in Bassano, , Del, Italy Death 1492 in Venice, Venezia, Veneto, Italy
If anyone had asked me 10 years ago to go on a trip to investigate my ancestors I am not sure what my response might have been. I had a typed document composed by my maternal great grandmother with information about my heritage, but had never given much thought to investigating genealogy. My mother died and the stock market crashed, all in short order in early 2008. My inheritance suddenly became a freaky nightmare. As I pondered what in the world these people had left me and why I saw an ad from ancestry.com gifting me with two weeks of free play on the site. Surely this would offer more insight into the nature of my true inheritance, and be a lot more fun than watching the market crash and burn. Indeed it has been.
I have been a strong enthusiast from the first moment I saw those historical documents on line. My membership makes me extremely happy, and gives me insight. Now that I am more proficient with the tools on the site, and now that I am back to the middle ages there is nothing I can imagine more fascinating than knowing about my ancestors. I went straight from gin rummy to ancestry without even playing pac man, so other “computer games” have never appealed to me. Now, however, I am on a quest to know more..and there will always be more. I can also look at my tree now from an overview to see “trends”. Both sides have patterns of repeating occupations. My mother has a whole lot of preachers, and my dad has a long line of teachers. Both, naturally, have a few unsolved mystery peeps and scalawags. My most desired “prize” in the game is portraiture. When you see the image of your ancestor, or even the handwriting, or the gravestone, or the place they were born something within engages with the past like never before. Once you have more knowledge of where you family was and what they did during history your bond to history deepens. It is possible to view your antecedents as part of an epic saga that results in your birth. They are the real players that took the stage to express themselves and create new generations in the world.
The archetypes in my dreams are played by my ancestors, dressed up in their period costuming. When there are written records it is easier to piece together details and locations. When there is a picture, however, I find that they virtually come to life in my imagination (memory?). The only thing we know for sure is that without them we could not exist. We must also assume some human error and downright mendacity exists in the records. Still, more accuracy and data is available all the time. I recently joined a DNA study in its infancy/beta stage. Unlike the traveler I was 10 years ago, my next giant thrill is going to be a trip to Jamestown and Williamsburg. I visited often as a child and always loved it. Now I know both sides of my family are buried all over the place, having played roles in the first settlement on the James River. In the old days I used to research markets and restaurants before a visit. This time it is all about the history, the dead peeps, the reenactment and my connection to it.

William Carpenter My 9th great grandfather Birth 23 May 1605 in Somerset, England Death 7 Feb 1659 in Rehoboth, Bristol, Massachusetts, United States
Richard Arden Morse, my father, was born in Independance, Kansas in 1920. His father, Ernie Morse was a jar head, a person who drilled oil wells before the advent of the rotary bit. They were a natural part of the culture in the Cherokee Strip. Ernie grew up on the Cherokee Nation and with his grandparents who farmed outside Coffeyville, KS. When my dad was a kid this part of the world contained the most concentrated wealth in the world. Oil was to be found close to the surface. My father learned fracking from Ernie, who had an 8th grade education. He went to Oklahoma University, Penn State, and later Texas A&M, where he pioneered numerical modeling of oil fields.