Sweet memories

So I decided to follow the crowd and blog. Everyone else is doing it! Sometimes I think I lead a pretty exciting life so it just makes sense to share it with everyone. I will start off with my most recent thoughts.

I've been thinking lately about my childhood and how wonderful it was to grow up in my neighborhood next to my Grandma and Grandpa Russell, especially when my cousins came over. Oh the memories. The sleepovers. The scary movies. I am so lucky to have such fun cousins and to have grown up with them. They are such good people.

And then I remember spending the night at Grandma and Grandpa Westover's just two miles away. When we knelt for evening prayers, they always thanked Heavenly Father for having me over. It was so sweet. Their home was a little piece of heaven. Grandma Westover used to make the best cream puffs in the shape of a swan. She loved children and she loved her grandchildren. Grandpa Westover was always so positive and exemplary, and a beautiful man, even in his 80s. Grandma Westover would've had to fight me for him if I'd been around in the 1930s.

It was from my attentive grandparents that I developed my lifelong passion for family history. Family history is more than just names, dates, and places. It is finding out and remembering who you are and where you come from and why you are the way you are. I take after Grandma Russell the most I think, at least physically.

As I have read about my ancestors, I can pinpoint exactly where I get certain traits.

From my Grandpa Russell's father's mother, Harriett Brewer, I get my passion for genealogy. She once flew to Connecticut from Arizona to do original research in her old age. As a result of her efforts, the Family History Library in Salt Lake City acquired a large collection.

From my Grandpa Russell's mother's father's father, Joseph Fish, I get my passion for history. He meticulously kept and published a valuable history of Arizona Territory.

From my Grandma Russell's father's mother, Margaret Mortensen Ray, I get my love of beauty and desire to have things look orderly and beautiful.

From my Grandma Russell's mother, Juanita Stout, I get my passion for learning and teaching. (I actually get several doses of that from several ancestors, including my mom and Grandpa Russell, both of whom received degrees in education and my mother's mother's father's father, Edward Milo Webb, who started and presided over Snowflake Academy in Arizona). Before she got married in 1914, Juanita Stout attended the University of Utah and taught school.

From my Grandpa Westover's mother, Adele Bushman, I get my organizational skills. My mom says that despite raising 11 fine children, she managed to keep a clean house.

From my Grandma Westover's mother's father's father, David Cluff, I get my passion for adventure. He started out in eastern New Hampshire and had his 12 children (1 girl, 11 boys) in Ohio, Illinois, and Iowa, before settling in Utah. Born in 1795, he was 82 in 1877 when he decided he wanted to move to Arizona - because he'd never been there. Brigham Young once said of my great-great-great grandfather "David Cluff is so imbued with the spirit of pioneering that it is very difficult for him to settle down for any great length of time in one place."

So there you have it. I might add that I credit my ability to handle the cold weather well (despite growing up in the hottest spot in the country) from my three Scandinavian great-great-grandmothers - Margaret Mortensen from Denmark, Joanna Erickson from Sweden, and Mary Ann Petersen from Denmark.

Now I must study geometry so I can do good on the GRE this summer and get into a good school for a masters and PhD in . . . history! What do I want to be when I grow up? A history professor (at Columbia University!)