This is a narrative of very heavy-duty proportions.

My solo adventure has begun! After vanquishing the "Evil Stinkbug of 2011" and spending $80 on a laptop charger to replace the one currently in the floor of my foyer at home, I seem to be back on top of things.

So, what am I doing? I'm embracing my inner geek on a genealogy-inspired trip to visit the home my 7th great-grandfather lived in, which is now a museum. Since my Grandma passed away back in November, I've renewed my interest in her side of the family, which she would never talk about. This is her mother, my great grandmother:



Maybe it's just me, but the more I look at this picture, the more uncanny her resemblance to me becomes. High forehead, big eyes, same mouth...and you can't tell from the picture, but it's not entirely ruled out that she has my cleft chin (or rather, I have hers).

When I arrived at the ancestral home, I certainly didn't expect a Smithsonian-during-spring-break atmosphere, but I really wasn't expecting the woman who sold me my ticket to grab a key ring from behind her desk and lead me on a one-on-one tour. The house was completed around 1754, and while this woman was clearly a new volunteer and didn't know a ton of details, she did share some tidbits such as, "See this bench in the front entrance? That's where they laid out the dead." Which is, you know...disturbing.

The family is Quaker from way back. I recently found a few of my relatives in the Society of Friends' "Disownment" records. They were kicked out for such things as "driving a wagon in military service," "scouting after Indians," and "singing and dancing." I couldn't help but wonder what my ancestors would think of me driving away from their home while singing along to Rihanna's "S & M."

After the house tour I set out to find the "Early Quaker Cemetery," where many of my relatives are apparently buried. I say "apparently" because 75% of the tombstones were unreadable, but it was an interesting experience nonetheless. The cemetery is in disrepair and surrounded by a stone wall. It is also behind a Maaco, next to the train tracks, and adjacent to a factory yard. As I maneuvered my way to the only access point, a spot right next to the train tracks where a part of the wall has crumbled, I could just picture the next day's headline: "Creepy Brown-Haired Girl Who Likes to Hang Out in Cemeteries Hit by Train."

The cemetery was covered in small purple flowers, and was quite lovely for a small plot of land between a car shop and a major transportation route. However, for some reason the ground was replete with holes about 2 feet in diameter, and deep enough that you couldn't see the bottom...which, for a cemetery, is pretty unnerving. I could only picture the man from the Quaker Oats canister in Zombie form.

So what's on the geek-genda for tomorrow? Civil War museum, archival research, and a local genealogy society meeting! Be jealous.