After my last post, I was busy as a bee visiting around when the phone rang. About an hour later, I flopped on the sofa, deflated. A reporter from the Baton Rouge, Louisiana, area had called. It wasn't that he was going to write a book with one-third of it about my family's history, it was that he was writing a book about such.Yes, there's a lot there about a family that first came to what is now Louisiana if 1679 if one looks for it.
Even as I type this, I don't know how to process what he's doing. One part of me feels a sense of pride, but, to be honest, a larger part of me feels creeped out. While I was getting on with my life - didn't even know this person existed - he had been doing an enormous amount of research. He quoted articles on what was then called the 'Society Page' about my grandmother hosting ladies' socials, a cousin who had done This, a family I was related to by another cousin's marriage, and so on. Nothing bad, all good.
He wanted my in-put for his book. When I said I was writing a book about my family (hint! hint!), he froze, defrosted, and charged on. I provided a few historical tid-bits I knew research would reveal, and we shared a few laughs about common knowledge. Then I put on the brakes. Enough.
Anyway, I've been in rather a funk. I'm not an Olympic athlete (or an athlete, to be honest; I kinda hang in there to get to the finish line). I can't sing. My fifth grade teacher asked me to mouth the words to Jingle Bells (when I thought I was doing great).
But I've got this curiosity about what's behind the next mountain, love to travel, love spending hours in dusty markets, and wherever I go, I've got this suitcase of family stories to bolster me when I need a kick in the butt not to give up. As such, there's a certain joy in knowing it's my suitcase.
I lived a lot of what he'd write about. Will the reporter know about wiggling one's toes in a freshly furrowed row? or running across stickers? or how clabber dripped above the sink? or about the bird in the China Ball tree?
I could tell him, pull the stories out of my suitcase, but he's an old-school reporter: just the facts, ma'am. He's got a contract. The book's going to happen. The excitement of the early bird getting the worm won't be there for a China Ball tree without the bird. Like I said, I'm in a funk.
* * * * *
Anyway, I googled "Oil Rig Employment Opportunities" as so many who commented/sent e-mails said they knew of someone who might be interested. I was blown away by collective opportunities in Louisiana, North Dakota, and world-wide. Here are a few links that may be of interest:
rigzone.com (Site has amazing links from menu at top.)
jobnd.com (Opportunities in North Dakota.)
* * * * *
Today's post is supposed to provide feedback on the A-Z Challenge. I thoroughly enjoyed the Challenge, meeting new bloggers, and learning from their great posts. Those behind the scenes did a great job of preparing us for what lurked ahead, commenting on our posts, and keeping us motivated. Considering the number of participants and the time zones involved, the Challenge was a massive undertaking that went very smoothly.
The only question I have is, Why April? It's a jam-packed seasonal change month, with kids involved in school activities, various graduations ahead, families visiting and so on. Perhaps February would be a blander month to dive in. The Challenge shouldn't feel, at times, like another job one squeezes in around home and hearth.
I think I would have been able to visit more blogs if there had been a some very general categories.
Would I do it again? Ask me next month!