Dichroic Reflections

about family

OK, that was cool. Over at ellisisland.org, I was able to find my grandfather who came to the US in 1912, when he was 3. I knew his year of birth, but not his parents' exact names (at least, not how they'd be listed), and with a little detective work, I was able to find his mother and the three siblings he traveled with, plus his father and older brother who came over a few months earlier. I could see the passenger record and the ship's original manifest., and it was a lovely feeling, especially, to see the grandmother and great aunt for whom I'm named. My great-grandmother came over, in steerage, with a fourteen-year-old daughter, a 5-year-old, a 3-year-old, and a baby. Yikes. At least she knew her husband and a 16-year-old son were waiting for her on the dock. (I don't know why there's a 9-year age gap between two of my aunts; perhaps my great-grandmother was a second wife. Since she's listed as 30 years old and her husband as 40, even allowing for early marriage back then, the two teenaged kids make that theory sound likely.) I've also found my dad's mother and possibly his father (the name is a common one but the age and city are right). I couldn't find my mother's mother's father, but I know my great-grandmother's family on that side came over a little before Ellis Island was opened.

Speaking of family, I don't believe I've mentioned what Rudder did to me while we were in Philadelphia. He told my father I could knit him gloves. For those of you who don't knit, I should point out that gloves, while a nice small project, are nasty fiddly things to knit. There are all those fingers, you see, not to mention thumb gussets and suchlike. This is why the Internet contains a zillion patterns for mittens and only a few for gloves. And, though a small hole in a sock where a stitch has been added may be unnoticeable inside shoes, it's my experience that the wind seeks out and blows through any little hole in a glove, so I need to do a good job on the fiddly bits. I think I probably ought to use fiddly little yarn and needles too. At least I think I can get away with DK instead of going down to sock yarn.

Normally, I'd have explained the difficulty and told them both to take a flying leap (or at least to settle for socks) but Dad actually sounded interested. He is so rarely interested in anything these days, and never has been much in gifts at all. So I can't just tell him to forget it. I settled for explaining to Rudder exactly what he'd let me in for (he was joking, originally) and hinting to Dad, unsuccessfully, that maybe he'd like a nice pair of socks instead. He won't wear mittens, either; I don't even think he'd wear fingerless gloves with mitten tops. So I guess I'm making gloves. I did warn him not to expect them any time soon.