December 31, 2007

Short History of the Clay Family

When I first undertook genealogy, I didn't understand the importance of documenting sources, so many of the bits of photocopied data in my files are incognito, as is this, a single page from some possible self-published history. It could have come from the Huxford histories.
I mentioned the Clay family when Eddie Hunter wrote about the family of General Lucius Clay. Here's a bit about the Clays in South Georgia.


5th Line 1Aa7'
Edmund B. Clay, 7' above, was evidently the youngest sone of David and Eve (Harden) clay. (Records of Wilkinson County show that Robert Clay, as his guardian, paid tuition to his teacher, David S. Pearce (Query. Was he a relative?) He married Sallie or Sarah Jones, a daughter of John Lawrence Jones and Lucy Taliaferro Jones, who was a sister of Judith Jones, who married Lewis Clay, to Nancy Jones who married Peyton Clay, and to Richard Jones, who married Obedience Hatcher, a granddaughter of David Clay and Eve (Harden) Clay.
Note: this is why researching these people are so difficult. They married each others' kin and used the same names over and over.
Edmund Clay moved to Lee County, GA., toghter with Lewis , where he died, leaving children, as follows:
A' David Clay
B' John W. Clay
C' Nanny Clay
The administration of the estate of Edmund B. Clay was begun in Lee County, GA., but was finally disposed of in Terrell County, after Terrell County was made from territory embraced in Lee County.
David Henry Clay, identified as A' above, was born in Wilkinson Coutny, Ga., April 1, 1841, and died Dec. 16, 1904, in Decatur County, Ga., and was buried oin Durham cememtery situated in the Northwestern part of the county. He married in 1876, Mrs. Guest, who was the widow of James Guest. Mrs. Guest before her marriage was Miss Martha Jane Fiveash, a daughter of John Fiveash and his wife, Nanny (Knight) Fiveash.
Not mentioned in this account is that John Fiveash and Nanny Fiveash are also buried in the Lane-Durham cemetery, which is now at the edge of a huge irrigated field having been sold out of the families. It is fenced and a flag flies above the lot. Burials of family kin still take place there.

David Henry Clay was a member of the Missionary Baptist Church, a Master Mason, and was wounded in the Confederate service. Their children were:
a' Edmund Fiveash Clay, b. Feb 14, 1877, m. Roberta Lane. Res. West Frostproff, Fla. Children: David Hay Clay, b. June 14, 1916, and Earl Fiveash Clay, b. June 12, 1918.
b' Cora Estelle Clay, b. Sept. 16, 1878, m James B. Lane (on) Jan 10, 1904, res. Brinson, GA.
c' Nancy Sarah Clay, b. ct 30, 1883 m Homer Powell. Mrs. Powell is deceased, but her husband lives near Brinson, Ga.
I date this to have been written years before 1960.

d'Julia Petronia Clay, died quite young, Sept. 23, 1880.

John W. Clay, identified as B' above married twice, first to Gusta Ann Powell a sister of Jesse Powell, who married Nanny Clay, second a Mrs. Helms.
Nanny Clay, identified as C' above, was born Feb. 9, 1843, died 1920, married first, Charles Haynes, Feb. 1864, second, Jesse H. Powell, 1863.
The page contains an aside to Powells, which I will leave to another time. There are many families of Powells in this community, interesting how they all fit together.

December 26, 2007

Boy, Did I Get a Bad Number!

Once, long ago before the days of caller ID, the phone rang and when I answered, a man said, "Lady, I used my last quarter to call my wife and dialed the wrong number." I offered to call her for him. He gave me the number and I dialed up.

"Your husband wants you to call him at work," I said, "He used his last quarter and got a wrong number."

"And WHO is THIS?" she asked in that voice reserved for pond scum and 'the other woman' and such.

"Wrong number," I said and hung up quickly.

December 25, 2007

Christmas Phone Call

Me: Hello

Unfamiliar Male voice: How you doin'?

Me:

Unfamiliar Male voice: Hello?

Me: Hello?

UFM: How you doin'?

Me: Who wants to know?

UFM: Uh, do you know a dude named Charles Thomas?

Me: No, I don't.

UFM: Oh.... I'm sorry.

Click.

December 23, 2007

Roses in December


It's supposed to freeze tonight. Today it's misting rain, very dreary. I picked the last rose buds: 2 'Peace' and one bud each of 'Queen Elizabeth' 'Sombreuil' 'Gene Boerner' and 'Knockout' to fill a vase on the kitchen windowsill.

Today is the 70th Anniversary of Daddy Senior's parents. We have a cigar box full of letters they wrote during their courtship, when there were no telephones in the country. Postage stamps went from 2 cents to 3 cents sometime during 1937.

December 22, 2007

Roses in December


Sombreuil on a cedar post.
If the brave little buds are tight when a freeze comes, they can survive to open after the next couple of warm days. If they're open, they're freeze dried and usually limp. This one made it to a warm day.

December 19, 2007

Sense of Smell


Memories, imagination, old sentiments, and associations are more readily reached through the sense of smell than through any other channel.
Oliver Wendell Holmes

December 15, 2007

Twenty One Inch Butterflies

I found them while browsing other sites, not going to post a link. They're made of acrylic and are supposed to last ten years without fading. I do have some metal butterflies in my garden; some are brass and some just pot metal. They're obviously fake and not so big as to be overwhelming.

I've found that some artificial ornaments overwhelm the blooming plants in color and size. If visitors are busy looking at my thirty dollar fakes, I'm afraid they'll miss the delight of the winged beauties who are sure to appear on any sunny day, like these:


December 09, 2007

Tag ... You're It!

I was tagged by Judy of Imagine What I'm Leaving Out.
The rules are as follows:

1. Link to the person that tagged you and post the rules on your blog.
2. Share 7 random and or weird things about yourself.
3. Tag 7 random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs.
4. Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

Seven Random, Weird things about myself:
1. I once took a class in making and using Puppets at the Center for Puppetry Arts, downtown Atlanta. I learned to make puppets with no sewing -- we stapled them together! My favs were the stick puppets with one moveable hand.

2. I have difficulty with right and left. They say that's a learning disability. I am likely to tell you to look in the left corner when I mean the right.

3. I collect buttons. My favs are glass.

4. I have a Red Neck. No, really, I have a red birthmark on my neck. My father had one, too. Hemangioma is the term, I believe.

5. I was named for two of my Mama's cousins. She had a number of cousins with names for whom I am glad they weren't her very favorites. Mama was named for a character in a novel her father read before she was born.

6. I'm not putting out Christmas decorations.

7. I've never had piercing, unless you count when the opthamologist accidentally perforated my cornea, which healed.


With hardly two weeks to Christmas, I'm not tagging anybody. Maybe somebody will pick up the meme anyway, y'all hear?

December 06, 2007

Social Media and Commentary

Old Media:
  • Newspapers.
  • Magazines.
  • Television.
  • Radio.
  • Books.
  • CDs and DVDs.
  • Paper photographs.
  • Paper mail and catalogs.
  • Phone books.

    Social Media includes blogs. All of the above are static. Blogs can be edited, indexed, archived, linked, deleted. Adding photos and videos sparks more interest.

    Social Media thrives on commentary. The best comment I heard all yesterday was this:

    Calling illegal aliens, "undocumented guestworkers" is like calling drug dealers, "unlicensed pharmacists."
  • December 03, 2007

    Catalogs of Christmas Goodies

    I threw out a catalog from a famous store with sites in New York and California. Evidently they embed a little chip that signals from the garbage truck, because another came immediately in the mail, full of holiday delicacies so tempting to someone whose holiday treat runs to Nabisco Gingerbread Graham Crackers.
    They have a pound of marshmallows for $12.50, not to be confused with the 10.8 size for $18.50 that are for the couverture bittersweet hot chocolate mix for $19.50 which doesn't include milk.

    I got past the candy by remembering the Adams Family visit when I took three of Alease's homemade candies because they looked so good and it was so hard to choose. Then she said, "Oh, you have to try Alice's, too," and I had to take three more so as not to hurt Alice's feelings.

    The cakes are an adventure into food language fantasy: spumoni gelato, tiramisu, dulce de leche, buche de Noel; almond gateau, petis fours, macarons, panettone. I did see a little garnish that I could do: crushed peppermint candy around a gelato truffle.
    I can crush peppermint, not make a truffle, I mean.

    Oh, the pates. Ah, the fruit. On to the hors d'oeuvres. Empanadas and tamales could be the undoing of me. Moving on through smoked salmon and caviar, I thought of the time at work when I mentioned eating potted meat as a snack at home the night before, and the unit secretary said, "I didn't know white people ate potted meat!" I asked, "What did you think they ate?" She said, "Caviar." Fish eggs, hog offal -- does it really matter which?

    The hype for a cocktail shaker almost persuaded me: "Sophisticated cocktails deserve nothing less than this iconic 1920s style shaker. It's fashioned of polished nickel-plated brass in a classic shape.... I was brought sharply back to reality when I remembered we don't drink cocktails.

    I paged past the wine racks and fell head-long into the cheese. 'Discovering artisanal cheese,' it said. Artisanal means handmade by artisans, apparently. I always wonder about their quality control measures. I managed to get past the beef as well.

    Sliding into the non-food areas, I was impressed by how many items to which I could say, already have one or similar except for the mandolines. Why one should need a mandoline when there's a food processor puzzles me.

    Already have a Le Creuset saucepan, now sadly out of style, white color, no longer chic or in stock and heavy for a ceramic top range.

    Scattered throughout the catalog are recipes to accompany things like hundred-dollar french fry cutters that would require its own separate closet to store. The french fries are to accompany the ham and pear panini. Hey! I have a panini press. Hey! I have a sandwich grill for making the stuffed sandwiches on the next page, full of mozarella, pepperoni and tomato sauce, all of which we have on hand.

    The tableware section almost did me in. I always want more dishes, until I remember there's not room for the plates we have now. I need 8 forks to match the spoons and knives I bought at a terrific price last year, only to learn they were discontinued and no forks are available. Now I have to find almost-matching forks, which I don't really need, either.

    Nor do I need the La Cornue CornuFe range for eight thousand dollars, which is too wide to fit my little space, but "From the esteemed elegance of the (LCC) range to time honored cookware and appliances, the selections on these pages artfully represent the creme de la creme of the culinary world," made me feel I had a right or is it a duty, to shop these pages.

    On through the expresso makers, linens and fresh greenery. What a day!

    December 02, 2007

    Who's Afraid?

    Had a visitor after midnight Fiday night, a young woman who said she ran out of gas and was lost. She said she'd been walking for two hours and lost her shoes and came through a cotton field. The place where she said she'd run out of gas was a couple miles in the opposite direction from the cotton field. When I asked, she said name was Gina and she asked where was a certain road. When I said it was about four miles, she became more agitated. That road is frequently mentioned in the paper as arrests are made for meth manufacture and possession.

    I wouldn't open the door and hand her the phone, insisting that she give me a number which she finally thought of. When I called, the man who answered said they'd been riding up and down the road for an hour looking for her and they'd be right here. After I hung up, she asked if there was a water faucet she could get to, flinging her long hair about. She said she even had dirt in her hair. Help was less than five minutes away, so I said no.

    She rushed off into the night and didn't wait on the carport for her ride. I think she could see through the window that there was someone behind me with a firearm silhouetted in the doorway . We heard a car later, I think it turned around in the driveway.

    In a kinder, gentler time, maybe 40 years ago, we'd have brought her in and given her hot chocolate and found her some shoes. I was concerned who or what was behind the shrubbery if she gained entry to the house. If she hadn't given me a phone number to call, I'd have called 911.

    I'm paranoid.

    I Blog Here & Here too