Do you remember the world when our great-aunts were Facebook?
When your second cousin, ex-uncle, or brother's nephew on the other side got pregnant, imprisoned, or passed the Bar, you got the news like this: his mother called her mother, who called her sister-in-law (your Grandma), who called your mother, who called you. That's how news progressed. And if there was a little editorializing along the way, well that's how family works.
Today the rules are all different. When cousin Julie's* water breaks she updates her Facebook status to Baby coming toniiiiiight!!! Also, couch for sale. Then, if you're real lucky she'll be tweeting her contractions and the first sound she hears when her husband comes to.
And your great-aunt will know this. Even though the most technologically advanced item in her home is great-uncle Herbert's hearing aid.
See, our great-aunts are getting Facebook without even owning a computer.
The family phone tree has been turned on its head. Here's how information flows through a family today: you see on Facebook that your cousin got her gall bladder removed, you call your mother, who calls her mother, who calls her sister-in-law (your great-aunt), who calls her daughter to find out why the heck she's the last one to know anything in this family anymore.
Case in point. Last summer I took a new job. I updated my Facebook page with the great news and many warm wishes came in from cousins and friends near and far. A week or so later I attended another cousin's baby shower. When the great-aunts trooped in (just have to say we have some of the best great-aunts EVER) they knew all about my new job. How? From their kids out of state--who saw it on Facebook.
Nothing makes me more giddy than when I can scoop my technology-challenged mother-in-law on the hot news for her own family. Me (innocently): Why, cousin Sophie in Georgia had her baby this morning, you hadn't heard? The photos are adorable.
I even scooped one very savvy aunt-in-law on her own daughter's engagement photos. SCORE!
Now that Facebook is facilitating cousin-to-cousin communications, the role of the great-aunt as newsbreaker is in decline. Will great-aunts be able to carve out a new role for themselves? Will they become as quiet as our hearing impaired great-uncles?
As long as there is family news, we will always need someone to add historical context, cluck their tongue, say I KNEW it! and, if you're lucky like me, offer heartfelt congratulations. So to all the great-aunts out there who have read the print-out of this blog post, I say thanks for being our Facebook for all these years. And, take a break--we'll call you when she hits 7 centimeters.
*No actual cousins named Julie were injured in the creation of this blog post. Any resemblance to actual events, relatives or locales or Julie's, pregnant or not, is entirely coincidental.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Grandma's Cookie Tin
Last fall we lost our Grandma and over the holidays we divided up her few remaining possessions, an exercise full of positive memories. After our Thanksgiving weekend family Christmas, we cleaned off the dining room table and spread out her things. There were jewelry boxes of old watches, pretty little jelly dishes, some antique Christmas decorations and lots of other semi-valuable treasures, but first thing I did was snatch up this old tin.
I have to think that this tin was cherished by Grandma too. After giving away so many of her household items, holding an auction and moving into her second nursing home--this tin was among her few remaining possessions.
Unless there is someone from Antiques Roadshow reading who wants to tell me otherwise, this tin is garage sale fodder---nothing valuable here. But for me this tin was the first thing I looked at in Grandma's kitchen every time we visited. Strategically located on the first piece of counter top inside her kitchen door, this tin was Grandma's cookie jar and was always stocked with Oreos.
I haven't had as much luck keeping it full. Besides this tin, one of Grandma's legacies for me is a wonderful sweet tooth (and I hope, the ability to live disease-free until age 96). I have bought Oreos a few times since I got it, planning to keep it stocked for my family. Unfortunately, my kids and I have eaten all the cookies immediately--before I could even snap a photo for this post.
I'm no health nut but even I know better than to try to keep this tin full of cookies like Grandma did. Instead I'll keep it on my counter for the warm memories and fill it occasionally as a special treat to remember her by.
I have to think that this tin was cherished by Grandma too. After giving away so many of her household items, holding an auction and moving into her second nursing home--this tin was among her few remaining possessions.
Unless there is someone from Antiques Roadshow reading who wants to tell me otherwise, this tin is garage sale fodder---nothing valuable here. But for me this tin was the first thing I looked at in Grandma's kitchen every time we visited. Strategically located on the first piece of counter top inside her kitchen door, this tin was Grandma's cookie jar and was always stocked with Oreos.
I haven't had as much luck keeping it full. Besides this tin, one of Grandma's legacies for me is a wonderful sweet tooth (and I hope, the ability to live disease-free until age 96). I have bought Oreos a few times since I got it, planning to keep it stocked for my family. Unfortunately, my kids and I have eaten all the cookies immediately--before I could even snap a photo for this post.
I'm no health nut but even I know better than to try to keep this tin full of cookies like Grandma did. Instead I'll keep it on my counter for the warm memories and fill it occasionally as a special treat to remember her by.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Year in Review
Happy New Year. The third year of this blog has been an adventure and I am glad to have made some new blogging friends this year.More and more of you are reading and sending your friends--and I greatly appreciate that.
In 2010, Bringing Home the Bacon was visited by very puzzled people from 55 countries and more purposefully, I hope, from residents of 48 U.S. States (Alaska? South Dakota? Can I get some love?). My U.S. visitors came from 735 cities, from Poca to Zeeland.
Many of my visitors these days are stopping by after seeing my posts on Twitter and Facebook, although a few stragglers are finding me via search engines, using search terms like 80's haircut guy, worst Christmas house, happy poop day and, interestingly, holly michaels naked. (These are REAL search terms people have used to find my site, courtesy of Google Analytics.)
I don't want this post to read like Uncle Herman's Christmas letter, recounting the detail of every month of the past year (including his bowel incident), so I'll just post a few posts that show how 2010 was a year of adventure and growth:
• I started out the year working chicken and sex in to my first submission to Dayton's online magazine, DaytonMostMetro.com
• Also, I tried out Mommy blogging.
• In February took some great photos of our winter wonder farm.
• As the weather warmed up, I introduced the world to renowned pig groomer, Claude', who may or may not be married to the kids' current babysitter, we probably shouldn't say.
• Also in pig-related news, I posted a H-O-T photo of my husband with his 80s hairdo. He was written up in a pig magazine as an up-and-coming young farmer.
• My friend Megan and I launched our new co-blog column. We quickly delved into Amsterdam nightlife and offended a preacher.
• As usual, our kids got very dirty at the county fair.
• In one of my most commented-upon columns, I admitted to not liking San Francisco--or kittens.
• I ended the year sharing the story of my best worst Christmas ever.
So thanks for reading and come back soon to see what 2011 has in store.
In 2010, Bringing Home the Bacon was visited by very puzzled people from 55 countries and more purposefully, I hope, from residents of 48 U.S. States (Alaska? South Dakota? Can I get some love?). My U.S. visitors came from 735 cities, from Poca to Zeeland.
Many of my visitors these days are stopping by after seeing my posts on Twitter and Facebook, although a few stragglers are finding me via search engines, using search terms like 80's haircut guy, worst Christmas house, happy poop day and, interestingly, holly michaels naked. (These are REAL search terms people have used to find my site, courtesy of Google Analytics.)
I don't want this post to read like Uncle Herman's Christmas letter, recounting the detail of every month of the past year (including his bowel incident), so I'll just post a few posts that show how 2010 was a year of adventure and growth:
• I started out the year working chicken and sex in to my first submission to Dayton's online magazine, DaytonMostMetro.com
• Also, I tried out Mommy blogging.
• In February took some great photos of our winter wonder farm.
• As the weather warmed up, I introduced the world to renowned pig groomer, Claude', who may or may not be married to the kids' current babysitter, we probably shouldn't say.
• Also in pig-related news, I posted a H-O-T photo of my husband with his 80s hairdo. He was written up in a pig magazine as an up-and-coming young farmer.
• My friend Megan and I launched our new co-blog column. We quickly delved into Amsterdam nightlife and offended a preacher.
• As usual, our kids got very dirty at the county fair.
• In one of my most commented-upon columns, I admitted to not liking San Francisco--or kittens.
• I ended the year sharing the story of my best worst Christmas ever.
So thanks for reading and come back soon to see what 2011 has in store.
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