The view from the third floor was not very impressive this morning.
Monthly Archives: November 2016
I am deeply grateful to the folks who transcribe old records for us. They provide an invaluable service, sometimes paid but often not. I don’t want to sound like I’m complaining about the transcription. I’m not. I’m just issuing yet another warning that we need to be careful not to take them at face value.
First, this particular transcript on Ancestry is of an entry in a volume of marriages from multiple parishes in the diocese of Tuam. Each parish is dutifully recorded in the original, but that information seems to have been lost in the transcript, which misidentifies this marriage as happening in the parish Abbeyknockmoy, in County Galway. Not impossible, because there were some Basquills who migrated that way, but this was not one of those cases. The marriage–and another on the same page for an Anna Basquil who, I am sure, will turn out to be Bridget’s sister–occurred in Aughagour [Aughagower] parish in County Mayo.
I mention this mostly because I see people get really precious about transcripts on sites like Ancestry. They copy and paste them into their genealogy program, as if they have intrinsic value. They do not. The transcript is simply a finding aid. By all means, transcribe the original document yourself, but you are opening yourself up to perpetuating someone else’s mistakes if you copy and use the transcribed info from a genealogy website.
Second, the name. If you’re hunting Basquills, you will find that the Q is often mis-transcribed as a G. Judicious use of wildcards can help tease out some of the more common transcription errors, but it pays to be creative and flexible with your search strategies. And never, ever, ever get attached to the idea that there is one true way to spell a name.
Thomas injured one of his paw pads. He won’t leave it alone. I’m watching him like a hawk, so he doesn’t chew a giant hole in his foot. I put the cone of shame on him for a while, but it freaks him out so badly I don’t dare leave him like that unattended. He is a giant, hysterical cupcake.
Hopefully it’ll heal quickly!
I dug through a drawer full of old dog collars and found a plain black leather one that fits Thomas. And then I promptly called him Frances. I knew I had the wrong name, but it was too late. It was a very odd experience.
He looks pretty dapper, I think. This collar is definitely well used, but it’s got a lot of life left in it. He seems happy with it.
The Holocaust did not begin with killing; it began with words. The Museum calls on all American citizens, our religious and civic leaders, and the leadership of all branches of the government to confront racist thinking and divisive hateful speech.
A few months ago, I shared an article asking the (then just hopefully rhetorical) question, “Would you hide a Jew from the Nazis?” I don’t think it’s rhetorical any longer. We are about to allow actual neo-nazis to take control of our country. They are dangerous, and we have to stand up to them. It’s no longer a question of “Could it happen here?” but a matter of “It is happening here.”