
The Terrible Hours: These Are Small Worlds
collage (anatomical illustration and book illustration) with India ink and Neocolors II
9 1/4 x 11 3/4 inches
Month: July 2007
Staff Meeting Doodle
The Terrible Hours: Karyatids
Waning
The days are getting shorter. It seems silly to say that in July, but it’s true. For a brief few weeks, the sun was rising as I left for work, but now, as I open the patio blinds on my way out the door, the sky is barely beginning to blush.
The Point
The point of my “busy weekend” story was that I have not yet read, or even purchased, the new Harry Potter book. I won’t be able to get to it until this weekend, at the earliest. I expect the big surprise will be ruined for me, by then, but I’m trying to stay away from spoilers1. And, to be honest, I’d like to finish re-reading the other books before I start the final one. I’m about half-way through The Order of the Phoenix, so I’ve got a ways to go, yet.
And, no, I still haven’t managed to see the movie. Hrmf!
In other news, Tammy Faye passed away over the weekend. I had a huge soft spot for her. She always struck me as a genuinely good sort of person. So, goodbye, Tammy Faye. I hope you finally get to have your hamburger.
_____________________________________
1 Which may not be as easy as one might think. While I was quietly working on the computer yesterday, Mr. Upstairs turned on the news. They were discussing the new Harry Potter book2, so I quickly put on some music to block out any possible spoilers. This is going to be a long, long week.
2Well of course the volume was so loud I could hear every word. DUH.
A Puzzle
I’m not sure where the weekend went. I spent most of it trying to unsnarl a couple of problems in Esther’s family tree. It’s a little bit shocking how much of a time suck genealogy can be.
The problem was that several generations back, a man named Luke Dillon–“a Quaker by faith”–supposedly fell in love with a girl named Susannah Garrett. Her father–who was, of course, rich and powerful–did not approve, presumably because Luke was a A) a drunk1 and/or B) poor. The two love birds eloped and emigrated from County Armagh, Ireland to Nantucket, Massachusetts, in either 1709 or 1724. They had four children (or maybe six). If they emigrated in 1709, one child (or maybe two) was born in Ireland, one was born at sea (or maybe Nantucket), and two (or maybe three) were born in either Nantucket or Bucks County, Pennsylvania. If they emigrated in 1724, all were born in Ireland. Except, of course, the one who was mysteriously born at sea.
And all that does not account for how Susannah could have been born in Guilford County, North Carolina, but magically elope from County Armagh, Ireland with the love of her life, a drunken weaver man.
Anyway, most everyone agrees that Luke died in 1716 or 1717. He either got drunk, fell off his horse, rolled into a ditch, and froze to death, or he climbed off his horse, sat under a tree, got drunk, and froze to death. Regardless of which end he allegedly met, the story says his body was not found until the spring thaw.
Susannah, of course, was pregnant at the time and gave birth to Luke Jr. after his father’s death. She remarried, either to a man named Bridges, or a man named Peter Dillon. Peter may have been Luke’s brother, or his cousin, or even his father, or the names may have been purely coincidental.
Or the whole story may be just that, a story. See, as far as I can tell, there is no actual evidence that Luke Dillon ever existed. There was a Susannah (who may or may not have been a Garrett), who was (probably) born in America, and she had four children–one of them, Daniel, was an ancestor of Esther–and she was married to a man named Peter Dillon. That much seems to be borne out by actual evidence–tax records, land deeds, etc. It’s amazing to me, though, how many folks claim that the “Luke and Susannah” story is true. Some even go so far as to state that they have “evidence” because it was published in a book, written by a descendant of Luke and Susannah. Because, you know, if it’s in print, it cannot be a lie! (I actually laughed out loud when I read the above “I have a book that proves it!” response on a Dillon family message board.)
Aieee!
Photo: Esther Munro and Edith Kilbury, Piper City, Illinois, circa 1915 (courtesy of Cheryl Ford)
_________________________________
1 I would think that being a drunk would have gotten one kicked out of the Friends, but who knows?
Book Trucks
There is a book truck floating around our floor, with a hand-written label on it: books for X project. Only, the “b” looks like a “g.” Aieee! I keep meaning to quietly fix the unfortunate handwriting, but every time I see the truck, I don’t have a pen with me. And whenever I remember to find a pen, the truck disappears.
Speaking of book trucks, Unshelved held a “Pimp My Book Cart” contest. And there are more tricked out book trucks on Flickr.
One of these days, I need to get a picture of my boring, grey metal book truck. Today is not that day, howsomever. I should also get a photo of my cube, because it’s never, ever, EVAR been this clean.
The Terrible Hours: Vessels
Excessive is…
Thirty-seven subject headings in a single item record. Seriously. That’s beyond overkill.
At the other end of the spectrum is a classed together monographic series that is not identified on the book and has not been included in the bib record. How the heck am I supposed to know that this item is from that series? Magic? ESP? Reading the entrails of a suckling pig at midnight on the vernal equinox?




