I like to try to cheer up coworkers with funny things when I can. So when this question came up on an exam for a professional course I had taken, it seemed share worthy.
Outtakes from an ordinary life
Sunday, October 11, 2026
I can't even
Wednesday, September 30, 2026
Election boos
Sunday, September 27, 2026
The anti-Costco
Sunday, September 20, 2026
Write your own name
At work, one of the frequent annoyances I have to deal with is people not letting people write their own names. The offenders are people collecting records (frequently in the form of oral histories). The victims are the ones donated their history to us. And the collectors routinely decide what the donor should be called*--deciding what name they go by, that they automatically take their husbands name, or only use their father's last name**, and also how that name is spelled, and write it all down for them, as though the collectors are somehow too dumb to write their own name. It drives me nuts and is something so easy to fix: Let them write their own name.
But today, I realized--with incredible despair--that this is not a new problem. See, I have this line in my family history where there's a Joseph Cook, with no known parents. And a wife whose name is either Lavicia, Levitha, or Tabitha??? And is legitimately written in all of those ways on multiple government documents. And why? Because some schumpter wrote their name for them, and didn't bother to ask how they spelled it or even verify that they knew what it actually was. For the love of sanity. And there is not a single document that shows her non-married name (at least none that has surfaced yet).
Which apart from causing massive problems for family history research, it's also just rude. I mean, the very barest minimum acknowledgement that someone is a person is to get their name right. Poor Tabitha-Lavicia-Levitha!***
Anyway, pro tip: Let people write their own names. Or at least ask them how they spell their name. And bare minimum, make sure you know what it actually is. History will thank you.
*There is an exception, and I have had to make this exception. We have--on a rare occasion--been dealing with people who couldn't write their name. But I ALWAYS ask them what name they want written down. Many of our collectors don't. They assume they are smart enough to know.
**I work with people from Latin America, so they inherit both the mother's and father's last names. Dad's first, then Mom's. But, this is also an issue with English names, and it baffles me that we think that because we speak English, we know how names work. I know lots of women who never did the paperwork to change their name after marriage (mostly, I hear, because it is a pain in the neck). And I have had to fix situations where someone described the person with their first name, when it was written all over in the records that they use their middle name. People know who they are. Just ASK them!!!
***Although, in fairness, maybe she didn't care. Maybe she is happy to be off the grid. Maybe it worked out great for her, and she became a train robber that no one could identify because they kept getting her name wrong. Who am I to say?
Monday, September 7, 2026
Sunday, August 30, 2026
Summer
Sunday, August 23, 2026
Peaches
When I was a kid, my mom canned peaches and pears. We'd have boxes of fruit sitting in the basement for a couple of weeks while she canned (we did help her). And the peaches were sooooooooooo good. Honestly, canned fruit from the store is ruined forever.
As an adult, I've tried and tried to find good peaches at the store, and it's always a disaster. They are always hard, and they don't ripen correctly. A ripe peach has this texture where you push on it and it dents, but there's a feel to it that you know means it is ripe. Peaches shipped to the store get this rubbery texture when you test for ripeness, it's just wrong. And they smell good but the taste and texture while eating the peach is completely wrong.
So, last Saturday I walked into a grocery store and they had locally grown peaches for purchase. I tested some, and they had the right ripeness texture, so I bought a week's worth, and man, was it worth it!!! They are just what peaches should be. I think I've only had one that had a spot that wasn't quite as good. It's amazing and my only lament is that I'm going out of this town this week and I'm worried that they won't still be available by the time I get back.
I had so little hope for good peaches at all this year, because we've had a bad growing year locally, so this has been a lovely little joy for the week. Go, peaches!!!
