Genealogy Humour...

The Top Ten Indicators That You've Become A Gene-Aholic 10. You introduce your daughter as your descendent. 9. You've never met any of the people you send e-mail to, even though you're related. 8. You can recite your lineage back 8 generations, but can't remember your nephew's name. 7. You have more photographs of dead people than living ones. 6. You've ever taken a tape recorder and/or notebook to a family reunion. 5. You've not only read the latest GEDCOM standard, you understand it! 4. The local genealogy society borrows books from you! 3. The only film you've seen in the last year was the 1880 census index. 2. More than half of your CD collection is made up of marriage records or pedigrees. 1. Your elusive ancestor has been spotted in more different places than Elvis! "The Family Tree" I think that I shall never see, the finish of a family tree, As it forever seems to grow, from roots that started long ago. Way back in ancient history times, in foreign lands and distant climes, From them grew trunk and braching limb, that dated back to times so dim, One seldom knows exactly when, the parents met and married then; Nor when the twigs began to grow, with odd named children row on row. Though verse like this was made by me, the end's in sight as you can see. 'Tis not the same with family trees, that grow and grow through centuries. CENSUS TAKER It was the first day of census, and all through the land; The pollster was ready ... a black book in hand. He mounted his horse for a long dusty ride; His book and some quills were tucked close by his side. A long winding ride down a road barely there; Toward the smell of fresh bread wafting, up through the air. The woman was tired, with lines on her face; And wisps of brown hair she tucked back into place. She gave him some water ... as they sat at the table; And she answered his questions ... the best she was able. He asked of her children... Yes, she had quite a few; The oldest was twenty, the youngest not two. She held up a toddler with cheeks round and red; his sister, she whispered, was napping in bed. She noted each person who lived there with pride; And she felt the faint stirrings of the wee one inside. He noted the sex, the color, the age... The marks from the quill soon filled up the page. At the number of children, she nodded her head; And saw her lips quiver for the three that were dead. The places of birth she "never forgot"; Was it Kansas? or Utah? or Oregon ... or not? They came from Scotland, of that she was clear; But she wasn't quite sure just how long they'd been here. They spoke of employment, of schooling and such; They could read some .and write some .. though really not much. When the questions were answered, his job there was done; So he mounted his horse and he rode toward the sun. We can almost imagine his voice loud and clear; "May God bless you all for another ten years." Now picture a time warp ... its' now you and me; As we search for the people on our family tree. We squint at the census and scroll down so slow; As we search for that entry from long, long ago. Could they only imagine on that long ago day; That the entries they made would effect us this way? If they knew, would they wonder at the yearning we feel; And the searching that makes them so increasingly real. We can hear if we listen the words they impart; Through their blood in our veins and their voice in our heart.