farmer diaries / cat on windowsill
Wow am I tired. Long day at work--too caffeinated--crashed out this afternoon. Then I had to go to do my volunteering thing at the historical society. The was my second time, and I discovered that I actually really like reshelving books. It's calming and I'm good at it.
I also got to do some actual research--I read through the 1792-1825 diaries of Thaddeus Larned and his son Noadiah (can you believe that name??). Although I wasn't looking for information about either of them but instead about Thaddeus's other son, George, whose apparently multi-great granddaughter found his and his wife's portraits and wants to know more about them (the portraits--when they were painted and such). Unfortunately, Thaddeus wasn't given much to description; he had a sort of farmer eloquence, but his diary mostly recorded things like when he mowed the hay or killed the hogs. He did record the time and day of George's birth, though, and mentioned every funeral he ever attended. One (of the many multitudes of funerals) was for a woman named Experience, which I really kind of like. Another was for a man who'd hung himself from a tree. Thaddeus was one of those who cut him down. That's all he said on the subject. He had quite nice handwriting--spidery, but readable once you got used to it. His son Noadiah, on the other hand, had wicked tiny scrawly writing that I could barely make out one word in five of. Occasionally he mentioned that he had let George have some sum of money; at least once this loan/gift/payment seemed to be related to oxen, but I couldn't make out any more details. Also Noadiah (the unmarried son) seemed to go back and forth from George's house to his sister's; don't know if he had a house of his own or just liked staying with family. So I wasn't able to provide the poor great-granddaughter with any information about the portraits she found, sadly. It could be there, but it would take a greater decipherer than I to find it. Overall, it was a really cool evening at the library. I've never really gotten to handle old documents like that before. Kind of a rush. I should reconsider that library science thing, maybe.
In other news, when I finally got home around 9:15, the cat was not hiding. He was sitting on the kitchen windowsill. And when I found him there, he did not run away. He meowed at me and was obviously quite unhappy to see me, but that's okay. He didn't run away. He can be pissed at me all he wants as long as he's not terrified of me anymore (or violent, but he shows no signs of that at all). Going to continue keeping the bedroom door shut. Because he was on the windowsill, this was the first time the cat was in the room when I got his dinner. Not like he cared--I pulled the curtain back to show him the food, even--but still. He could hear me opening the can and stuff. We'll see how it goes. I didn't try to touch him or anything and won't for a while yet.
I also got to do some actual research--I read through the 1792-1825 diaries of Thaddeus Larned and his son Noadiah (can you believe that name??). Although I wasn't looking for information about either of them but instead about Thaddeus's other son, George, whose apparently multi-great granddaughter found his and his wife's portraits and wants to know more about them (the portraits--when they were painted and such). Unfortunately, Thaddeus wasn't given much to description; he had a sort of farmer eloquence, but his diary mostly recorded things like when he mowed the hay or killed the hogs. He did record the time and day of George's birth, though, and mentioned every funeral he ever attended. One (of the many multitudes of funerals) was for a woman named Experience, which I really kind of like. Another was for a man who'd hung himself from a tree. Thaddeus was one of those who cut him down. That's all he said on the subject. He had quite nice handwriting--spidery, but readable once you got used to it. His son Noadiah, on the other hand, had wicked tiny scrawly writing that I could barely make out one word in five of. Occasionally he mentioned that he had let George have some sum of money; at least once this loan/gift/payment seemed to be related to oxen, but I couldn't make out any more details. Also Noadiah (the unmarried son) seemed to go back and forth from George's house to his sister's; don't know if he had a house of his own or just liked staying with family. So I wasn't able to provide the poor great-granddaughter with any information about the portraits she found, sadly. It could be there, but it would take a greater decipherer than I to find it. Overall, it was a really cool evening at the library. I've never really gotten to handle old documents like that before. Kind of a rush. I should reconsider that library science thing, maybe.
In other news, when I finally got home around 9:15, the cat was not hiding. He was sitting on the kitchen windowsill. And when I found him there, he did not run away. He meowed at me and was obviously quite unhappy to see me, but that's okay. He didn't run away. He can be pissed at me all he wants as long as he's not terrified of me anymore (or violent, but he shows no signs of that at all). Going to continue keeping the bedroom door shut. Because he was on the windowsill, this was the first time the cat was in the room when I got his dinner. Not like he cared--I pulled the curtain back to show him the food, even--but still. He could hear me opening the can and stuff. We'll see how it goes. I didn't try to touch him or anything and won't for a while yet.