The Book of Me (9)

Memory Board (Prompt 23)

How do you see the point of a memory board? Why keep one? Do you keep one? Or will you?

This could be a cork board in your office, kitchen or regular space? If you do what do you keep on it? And why?

I wanted to say I'm skipping this because it's an unfamiliar phrase. It makes me think of keyboard or motherboard, computer terms which any sane right-brain writer avoids knowing more than superficially.

My "board" is the (paper) daytimer on my desk. It reminds me, alerts me, tells me everything. As long as I remembered to write things down in the first place. I tried Google calendar but kept forgetting to look at it. So I have to coordinate this daytimer with a portable pocket diary and believe me, that's enough challenge. Ever have those days when the two are out of synch and you miss a meeting/ appointment/ class/ webinar because of it?

The diagram that Julie drew was likely discussed in a Google Hangout that I was not attending.[1] However, you can see that it literally draws connections on a chosen topic, much like collective verbal brainstorming. You are triggering personal memories in a visual way. As I was not in the discussion, I'd better stick to the above suggestions.

So no, I don't have a tangible board or fridge reminders. I'd likely ignore them. After all, I go to the fridge with a preoccupied mind, blindly seeking food. My desk is the nerve centre. Sometimes food considerately appears on my desk by itself with no recall of a trip to the kitchen. Really, this should happen more often.

Favourite Colour (Prompt 24)

astrology-online.com

Do you have a favourite colour? and if so why? Do you like vibrant colours or darker colours? Do you associate anyone with a particular colour?

If so who and why ? Does your favourite colour reflect your personality?

This topic is only difficult in that I don't have one all-time favourite colour. My inner Leo makes me go for bold. RED is racy and glorious. PURPLE is powerful and comforting (but it has to be a blue-purple, not a red-purple). TEAL is therapeutic and rich. And so on.  

When I was young and not in charge of selecting my own clothing, I was told that redheads can't wear red (a colour clash too horrific for ordinary eyes). Guess what I did as soon as I had spending money? Now that I am grown up and mature, BLACK and GRAY have a way of filling my wardrobe. Go figure.  

LOVE (Prompt 25)

Love comes in varying shapes and sizes; I love my (insert your family member, pet etc); there is no right or wrong way to love....or is there? Define what love means to you.

OMG, Julie (The Book of Me creator) this was a sneaky one. Let's shamelessly skip it, I said to self. Lazy shirk, self said back to me. Some bloggers made lists of people and things they love, that make them happy. Waxing sentimental and lyrical is not in my tool box today. Having said that, how can I then say I simply love life without sounding like a vacant beauty pageant contestant? Just about everything in the whole concept of life?

Sure, I don't like mean people and liars and corrupt politicians and incurable diseases and rice pudding and rap music and stop right there. Wrong way to start a memory board of love!

Love can have disappointments like George Clooney and Richard Branson not answering my emails, but on the whole it makes the world go way 'round better than its opposite. The crux of the matter is not failing to voice love for the people and events that keep me uplifted!

[1] "Prompt 23 — Memory Board," The Book of Me, 1 February 2014, Anglers Rest (http://anglersrest.blogspot.ca/search/label/The%20Book%20of%20Me : accessed 23 February 2014).

© 2014 Brenda Dougall Merriman

RIIS Ancestors (Estonia) Part Four

Further clarification and appropriate credit: The "folklore" and the "narratives" I have been following are the online work of Urmas Haud, Estonian astronomer and genealogist.[1] His profession explains the initial confusion with the Tartu Observatory website. I've no idea why I had such difficulty finding the root site other than general technical ineptitude. However, the website is huge and navigation is not the easiest. There is more to be explored.

Now let's see if I can pull together information about the next generation, drawing largely from the extensive website pages. I will somewhat re-phrase the site's translated introduction:

The following is basically a memorial to the folk tradition, drawn on the written story of one family's formation and expansion. As the Riis clan grew in quite long isolation from the outside world, it also coincided with the development of two of Estonia's forest villages; the family and the villages are inseparable.[2]

Hans "Riis" is my alleged sixth great-grandfather. His wife is named Kai on the Geni family trees but her name does not appear in the online narrative.

Hans had three sons; each of them had many sons. The narrative has no dates associated with Hans' sons: Peet, Jan, and Tonis. Two of them chose separate parts of their grandfather Tiit's lands on which to live. I'm working on spotting all the location names, which were mostly on the large Vastemöise estate ― an estate that existed from the Livonian Order period. The aristocratic Von Stryk family was the landowner in the 1700s; as of yet I have found nothing more about them.

The Geni trees give Peet's dates as ca.1727-9 June1783. "Hantsu eldest son Peet gone up along the edge of the river and made a house. Thus emerged Oolmiku farm."[3] That description is about the clearest of all farm names mentioned. "River" probably refers to Raudna. A son of "Oolmiku Peet" married a woman from Oolmiku village, a place named after her mother (or her maternal family?). It appears that Peet's descendants were associated with Oolmiku, aka Hoolmiku, farm until at least the early twentieth century. 

Middle son Tonis seems to have stayed at his father's location, Adutuaa? on the Sillavilla? probably still near Sandra village. He was known for maintaining his father's (and grandfather's) lifestyle of admirable clothing and horses. Two of Tonis's sons founded farms called Aadujaani and Sõõru.

Youngest son Jan aka Jan Tõramaa (ca.1725-12 January 1800: year of birth precedes elder brothers?) is deemed the direct ancestor. He "come to the creek and the forest has a house here ... So could be Abaja farm ... inherited from his father-spirit and pride."[4] The nominal "Tõremaa" and variations (e.g. Teramane, etc) seem to indicate his location and there is a village of that name now. 

"Riisa Hall stands in the lower reaches of the river's seat of forests, swamps and marshes behind so that in the old days during the summer when the rest did not make it out alone along the river. In winter, when the bogs and fens was on top of the bridge, it had all the external services, and time to get errands." 

Riisa "Hall" (or something similar) would appear to be the name for his home. Perhaps "the creek," is connected to the Raudna river.

More interesting garble from the story: "He received a full Tõramaa lust ...". Seems he had some dispute with older brother Peet, perhaps resulting in one ousting the other from somewhere. But "Tõramaa will come back, and it started to work well. Father, Father's fortunes remember wearing boots and spurs sincerely loved riding horses." Regarding Jan's location, one Geni tree has a slight variation: Jan "... come Tõramaa creek forest and made it into the house. Only the house was a place for the stream section of land was treeless, otherwise all the fat Laan. Both were born Teramane (Abaja) farm."[5]

Part of Soomaa National Park; photo by Aivar Ruukel

An explanation of "isolation from the outside world" is necessary. The lands occupied by Tiit Kolgis and his descendants is a very large, once heavily wooded, marshy area. Clearly it had discouraged much settlement before Tiit's time. The entire area of Riis habitation for generations is now part of Soomaa National Park ("Estonia's Wilderness Capital"), dedicated to protection of its special ecological environment. Wilderness is a significant word. More on this in the next installment — lengthy searches have finally produced a very relevant map.

Our Jan had two sons including the direct ancestor Andres Riis (ca.1764-21 November 1843). Andres' year of birth is up in the air. The Geni trees show his precise date of death, most probably from a written record, occurring at age 79, hence the calculation back to 1764. On the other hand, one researcher adds, "According to the Book of the Church was born in 1756."[6]

From what I can gather, Andres was not much of a farmer. He always planted his rye early and never had a good harvest. One year a son argued strongly with him about the appropriate planting time, so each did their own thing on different parts of the land. The son proved a bountiful rye crop while Andres failed again. His father was suitably impressed and said to him, ""Sow, son - I can see that my work is not in it." One wonders at the ability to cultivate in a difficult environment for almost three hundred years! It's not clear (again) but the farm seems to have been Jan's Tõremaa. Andres' other son Tiit apparently went further off to an "island marsh dwelling."

Further information continues regarding the sons of sons; other farms in the vicinity associated with them were Üleoja and Riisa Kangru. But the translation gets even rougher. It is Andres' daughter Liso Riis (10 February 1794 - ??) who is my great-great-great-grandmother.

My stumbling explorations have been interesting ― the appeal seems obvious (out of the swamps we came?) — but still incomplete even from Haud's website alone, and subject to translation errors.

How useful is all this? We shall see ... Part Five has a helpful map!

[1] "Hobby," Urmas Haud, (http://www.aai.ee/~urmas/ : accessed January-February 2014).

[2] "Preposition," (http://www.aai.ee/~urmas/aba/abaja0.html).

[3] "Oolmiku," (http://www.aai.ee/~urmas/aba/abaja2.html).

[4] "Hantsu Sons," (http://www.aai.ee.~urmas/aba/abaja1.html).

[5] Leivo Sepp, Geni (http://www.geni.com/people/Jaan-Riis-Terrama/6000000002648701224).

[6] Leivo Sepp, Geni (http://www.geni.com/people/Andres-Riis/6000000003319166562).

© 2014 Brenda Dougall Merriman

The Book of Me (8)

The Feeling of Home (Prompt 20)

Begging the question here. Home ― now or then? My parents' home or my domestic-era home? My current home? Must wing it, then.

In olden days the start of school holidays was when the train from Winnipeg pulled into the Port Arthur station, signalling I was home. The heart would feel almost like bursting from happiness. Back in God's country. That's what we called it. The feeling never abated.

Then there were these:

Life gifted me.

Home was our century farm where they grew up. Horses, ponies, cattle, pigs, sheep, chickens, pheasants, peacocks, turkeys, capons, guinea fowl, rabbits, have I forgotten anything? Oh yes, assorted dogs and cats. Summer corn roasts; winter Christmas-tree cutting parties; the MerriMar maple syrup business; 4-H for ponies and sheep; Prince Phillip Games; trucks; tractors; hay baling; rock picking; boyfriends; drivers' licences. Well, they could tell you much more than I.

Now, home is my writing cave of desirable, mostly splendid solitude. Well-deserved rest as I see it. Substituting Lake Ontario for Lake Superior, I'm good.

Hobbies (Prompt 21)

Growing up, ballet school was not exactly a hobby, it was five days a week of hard work after school. No time left for hobbies, I was clearly a social misfit. Maybe school was a hobby. Although I dabbled with writing poetry, drawing cartoons, collecting LPs, and inventing pranks to harass teachers.

Late insertion: Cripes, how could I forget. Sewing. Something good inherited from my grandmother and mother. Never thought of it as a hobby, though. It was thoroughly satisfying craftsmanship, creating half my kids' clothes and some of my own for years. I miss that old sewing machine, especially when I need curtains or to alter ill-chosen fashion mistakes!

Genealogy became a hobby, then a lifesaving job.

Currently could we call camels a hobby? Could be going full-circle to social misfittedness.

Daily Routine(s) (Prompt 22)

Growing up, my father had a routine. Breakfast at 8, lunch at noon, dinner at 6. I'm guessing that was pretty much my mother's routine by default! We kids just fell in line. Now I eat at noon and about 9 pm. Okay, confessing to popcorn/junk food break (cue furtive chortle).

My routine:

That comes close to nailing it. Thank you, free-floating Facebook sources and Genevieve Rhode wherever you are.

Boarding school ingrains two morning things: You make your bed, you get dressed. Or vice-versa. You do it at once, every day. Without fail. Like the army. You don't even have to think when you are putting on the same uniform each morning. Excellent training to become an obsessive-compulsive.

Nowadays, a little variation is required. Getting up is about the same, maybe with a few extra groans. Getting dressed requires coffee for stability on the hind legs and to facilitate decision-making about what exactly to wear. Unless, of course, that was compulsively decided the night before to avoid heavy thinking first thing. Like if you never throw out the clothes from twenty years ago, there are wardrobe choices to debate and slow you down (should do something about that to increase efficiencies). More coffee is required before the bed gets made. Scrolling Facebook is like a tune-up to test how many neurons are blinking. Then to work. Or fitness class, if the daytimer says so.

Ah well, structure and discipline are necessary but routines are a rather dull topic. Mine starts disintegrating after the daily walk in a futile attempt to blow off the brain fog. Looking with interest at the FitBit trend. I will say I never leave home without the earrings in. I'm not dressed unless.

© 2014 Brenda Dougall Merriman

RIIS Ancestors (Estonia) Part Three

Part One and Part Two introduced "Tiit Kolgis" (born ca.1650).

Clarification: my ultimate source for his legend is a website built on Estonian folk tales, collected by Jaan Kuldkepp, popularly referred to as the Kuldkepp Chronicles and published online by a presumed descendant.[1]

The tale continues with Tiit's descendants. He had a son Hants Ries or Riis; there is no mention of another son in the folklore. According to the aforesaid website the origin of the-nickname-that-became-a-surname has a few unresolved linguistic points:

Riis denotes a rich man;

Ries ("der Riese" in German means something like giants) and Tiit's descendants were all big strong men;

Ries could mean "freeze" if Tiit had perhaps actually been from Dutch Friesland [Frisia/Fryslân].

That last sounds a little lame to me ― it's so dependent on correlating pronunciation among different languages. It seems possible to me that a "knight" called "Swedish" could have been drawn from any part of northern Europe claiming allegiance to the the Swedish king at that time, such as a German state or Friesland, i.e. a knight who knew where his bread was buttered. The word "Rice" also appears as a surname, apparently as a freaky pronunciation match by the translation software.

Hants or Hans flourished like his father "but without his sword and spurs." It was apparently Hans who lived through, and was most affected by, the twenty-year Great Northern War when the invading Russians caused a great deal of destruction. The peasants often fled into the forests to hide. There's considerable detail, albeit garbled, about how the enemy "extortioners" sought to ambush Hans along the river, but he outwitted them. The great house built by his father was all but destroyed in the war; it's said that only the "Tõnistua" room survived ― another one of those problematic words.

From http://www.aai.ee/~urmas/riisa.html

The small red box on this map indicates the specific area of interest within Estonia. The search is still on for a better-scale map with (hopefully) village names.

Hans, already dubbed the "rich man," survived and eventually the village was reconstructed. Hans himself is said to have rebuilt elsewhere on the lands inherited from his father Tiit. He started a new farm that may have been called Aadutua. The Sillavalla River is mentioned. He had three sons which coincides with what is told about the 1690 tax list, assuming only the children are shown on it as per the available transcript.

Hmmm ... if anyone is following this sketchiness, we have to wonder where is "Evert"? Evert ― accepted by all the Geni trees as the son of Tiit and our direct ancestor. The story says after the war Hans "have been looking for a decent place and set up everting (Aadutua?) Farm."[sic, but emphasis added] It was very unclear to me whether the word "everting" referred to a place name (to our eyes it looks like a verb or adjective) and if this is the source for a person called Evert.

The original Estonian: "Hants tulnud Sandralt Sillavalla jõge mööda allapoole Halliste alamjooksule, otsinud sündsa koha ja asutanud Everti (Aadutua?) talu." Note the capital E on "Everti." The context suggests a farm name. Maybe I do need a competent translator. Like now! The proliferation of capitalized words and other nouns throughout the account is a bit dazing, and they are not showing up on the usual search engines, understandable if they are obsolete farm and place names. Also, you see how a name's endings can alter, depending on grammatical placement.

The alleged son Evert (Eiwertil is an alternate name used in Geni) was spotted in 1690 on an estate tax list. Evert's household had, and again I quote a translated source: "two adults (older than 15 years) sons and two daughters and one son, a minor." Could the name on the tax list refer to a farm name rather than the head of the family? It might make more sense if this was Hans, living on the Evert or Aadutua farm. Three sons are attributed to Hans, not to Tiit.

Since the Geni trees have inserted Evert as the son of Tiit and father of Hans, is it possible they have conflated "Evert" and Hans? Although they give ca.1670 as Evert's birth year, and ca.1705 for that of Hans, the latter hardly squares with Hans being an adult and community leader during the Great Northern War (1700-1721). Well, it's not only the translations that make me skeptical!

Disclaimer (again): This is a different kind of research exercise, obviously not a truly genealogical project. At this stage, I seem to be little more than out-guessing the translations.

The story goes to grandchildren of Hans and gets more specific, but thus becomes exponentially more difficult to follow the translations. Undaunted, more to follow.

[1] While the URL www.aii.ee is for the Tartu Observatory, the Kuldkepp Chronicles has the same URL base (http://www.aai.ee/~tarmo/txt/Intro.html) that confused me at first. The name of the website is unclear. Forward tracking from the URL goes like this:

Click on "chronicle" (/~tarmo/txt/index.html#Sisukord)

Scroll down to Table of Contents, and choose

"Memories of Old Time," (~tarmo/txt/Vana.html#Malestusi_vanast_ajast)

Scroll down to 1.1.2.2 "War Hiding Places" and click on hot link "Riisa Toramaa" (/~urmas/riisa.html)

Click on "rice for children of pedigrees" to /~urmas/aba/abaja1.html

© 2014 Brenda Dougall Merriman

 

The Book of Me (7)

Toys and Games (Prompt 17)

Yours truly is so old-fashioned I still think chess is the coolest game. But the first game I remember playing is checkers; my Dad was the instructor/opponent for both. The games arrived as gifts from Santa.

In elementary school we were obsessed with playing marbles, but we called them "allies." It was a matter of taking turns to shoot your allie along the ground toward a "pot," that is, a hole you scooped out of the dirt. Any number of kids could play. The eventual winner ― and it quite escapes me now how the system worked ― got to keep all the allies in the pot. Everyone vied to collect the prettiest coloured marbles that we lugged back and forth to school in a cloth whisky-bottle bag with a drawstring.

The unique dolls my Grandma Freibergs made ... how I wish I still had them! Or even a photograph! She made them all of one piece in sturdy cotton, stuffed them, and embroidered the faces. Then, and that's where her seamstress training shone, she crafted a gorgeous dress with a long skirt. The brilliant part was when you turned the doll upside down, a completely new doll appeared in a different full length gown, different hair, different face. I, of course, thought Grandma invented them.

instructibles.com

A little research educates me otherwise (another win-win for The Book of Me). They are called "topsy-turvy dolls" and their history goes back to plantation days in America ― not to Grandma's Latvian roots. The original doll babies had a white face and a black face. There's an interesting discussion on Historical Folk Toys http://www.historicalfolktoys.com/catcont/4716.html. In the early twentieth century, commercial companies began selling popular patterns so handy homemakers could make their own.

First Present or Gift (Prompt 18)

Can you remember it? Who bought it for you? Do you still have it?

FAIL here in the memory department. Maybe the first gift was the silver christening mug? ... now gathering dust in one of my descendants' cupboards (instead of in mine). Or the quilt Grandma made for my crib. The patches alternated in pink and blue, a clear sign no-one knew in advance which one I'd be. I think I still have it, if only I knew where to look.

The same Grandma created tiny baby dresses with incredibly detailed stitching. They became very fragile over the ensuing years; lack of proper care was a factor. 

Then there was the handsome red sleigh my Grandpa Dougall made. Was it for me or for my father and his sisters before me? Lovingly crafted and ideal for all that previously-tolerated northern SNOW. It now resides with my niece in Quebec where they also have a winter abundance of SNOW and a few babies to enjoy it.

Who Do You Miss? (Prompt 19)

People who live elsewhere that we will not see over the festive season, people that have passed away; who do you miss? Why?

"Elsewhere" ... nearly all the important people in my life live elsewhere. Foremost I miss my children at odd times ― meaning actually any old time ― because they are all so far away. That means I am ever grateful for the likes of Email, Skype, and Facebook. And the technology helps me understand they are no longer the helpless toddlers I cherished or the fractious teenagers I despaired over.

I miss my long distance friends scattered on diverse pathways to global corners, some from way-back-when. Some intersect electronically on a fairly regular basis; others, regrettably, have gone by the wayside.

If I were to list them all and why I miss each not being 'round the corner to visit, I would still be writing this two years from now. Maybe sometimes they miss me too.

Much sadder is the fact that friends of childhood and later have died. Did they fulfill some of their dreams? Memories of times we shared always warm me. A special loss are those who went far too young ― my "twin" cousin H; my young cousin I; my beautiful cousin C. Family historians have deep roots and wide branches.

When I look back in review, as happens with this prompt, I didn't know I had so many friends ~ Happy Dance ~ Now I'm less and less of a social extrovert, relishing solitude, so it takes determined effort and time to develop new friendships. There are friends who connect through mutual interests. There are those who bond on different creative, emotional, intellectual, or spiritual levels. We are all complex human beings and it's a rare friend who sustains and nourishes you on all levels of your being with reciprocal sharing and trust ― the special few on whom you can count at all times are extra precious.

It may sound trite, but I can only say I am fortunate and blessed. Wherever my family and friends are, their regular presence is missed.

RIIS Ancestors (Estonia) Part Two

Despite the complexities of tracing families before surnames were acquired (generally not until the nineteenth century in the Baltic region), the RIIS surname comes with attached Estonian folklore — folklore that explains why and how an early individual could leave traces of his existence. I am doing my best with the newly found "popular tradition" to decipher the weird syntax and the personal and place names yielded by online translations. I don't think it's time to call in a living, breathing translator for this yet. The lineage has more pressing holes to address before connecting to Tiit Kolgiks (see Part One).

Words and phrasings in quotation marks are from the Estonian folkloric accounts, that is, the translations thereof.

"Tiit Kolgiks" or "Tiit Kolk" (born ca.1650) was the apparent progenitor of the family in Baltic lands. It's said the man was a Swedish knight-soldier; there's mention of the Great Northern War (1700-1721). He came to a place in what is now Estonia, a village called Sandra on the Raudna river, in a large area called Viljandi. Whatever his real name was, the people there called him Tiit Kolgiks. The two countries as we know them, Estonia and Latvia, were long known as Livonia. The Great Northern War (1700-1721) was a power struggle between the Swedish and Russian empires whereby the Swedes lost control of Livonia.

A little early for my purpose but
nevertheless; bennosfiguresforum.com

  

Tiit was legendary for his fine clothing, magnificent boots (always with spurs), and big handsome horses with fancy harness — the man definitely had resources. Tiit built himself a large wooden house with glass windows which had never been seen before; the dwelling was also fortified, including a portcullis gate that was closed at night and raised every morning. If you have never used online translation from a foreign language, I give you a sample:

He made yourself into a wooden house with a spacious and large glass windows to put down, which at the time before the thing was seeing.

Tiit's grand house sounds almost like a manor house itself. Historically, the Vastemöisa estate, one of the oldest in Livonia, was located in the old county of Viljandi (Viljandimaa) and parish of Suure-Jaani; there were twelve manor estates in the parish. Each estate would also have a number of farms.

Additional information becomes more puzzling. Tiit fell one day while working on horseback, "driving a large mallet." The resulting injury to his hip (lameness?) prompted the nickname "Old Kolk." I had a great deal of trouble with that word kolk; no particular language was owning up to it until Wolfram|Alpha said it means hip in Slovenian. Our man was apparently real enough because his birth and death "may still be seen on the grave" ― at least whenever that was written ― but no specific year or age is now known.

That's about the extent of the man's personal information that I can extract from the trees on Geni, supplemented with links to archival and local history websites. All the accounts of Tiit use more or less the same words and phrasing; I can't be certain yet but they seem to derive from an unnamed page related to the URL of the Tartu Observatoorium website.[1]

Based on practices in other countries, his being a soldier and possibly a knight could indicate his Viljandi lands were a reward for military service. In the 1600s the Swedish Empire extended over all of Livonia and further south.

If we accept a mid-seventeenth century birth year for Tiit, and the existence of an adult son in 1690, then Tiit would have been integrated into his chosen surroundings well before the end of that century. I'm thinking from the information so far that the man likely died before the Great Northern War, and possibly before 1690 ― a theory to be explained in due course.

It's worth a digression to mention that the concept of manors, or estates, developed here in the Middle Ages during the Crusades. Christianity only came to the region in the thirteenth century with the Livonian Order of Knights (part of the Teutonic Order). With the influx of robust bishops and knight-led retainers, the first estates were organized ― hence the predominant Germanic influence. Thus the native peasants were managed by loyal "vassals" of the landowners. Over the next few centuries manor estates became an all-enveloping way of life.

Kabala Manor house in Rapla parish, 17th century example; Wikipedia
 

The Livonian War that took place in the middle of the 16th century left local strongholds in ruins, but at the same time, it boosted the development of manors. Side by side with the disappearance of the Order and bishoprics, the former vassals began to play an increasingly important role in the local state arrangement. Nobility associations known as knighthoods performed in Estonia (in the whole of Old Livonia) local government functions up until World War I. The so-called knight manor ... became the main type of manors, the owner of which had a number of status-related rights along with many stately responsibilities. The number of manors had grown to around a thousand by the 18th century.[2]

Needless to say, the Baltic region has always been a site of conquest between warring powers. Despite intermittent bloody battles and changes in overlords, locally managed government generally continued. So the scenario of "knights" arriving periodically to settle and establish farms has historical legs.

This strange tale has developed a life of its own. I shall have to continue into yet another blog post.

[1] The direct URL is http://www.aai.ee/~urmas/aba/abaja1.html (accessed 14 January 2014). But if one goes to the Tartu Observatoorium website (http://www.aai.ee/) it seems impossible to find the page. Töravere Observatory seems to be another name for the institution.

[2] Estonian Manors (http://www.mois.ee/english/history.shtml : accessed 15 January 2014).

© 2014 Brenda Dougall Merriman

The Book of Me (6)

The Book of Me as Written by You Me has its rewards. Above all it keeps me from noticing how I've lapsed on things genealogical. While I struggle with delayed but more edifying posts, this makes a welcome distraction. It also allows for as much cringing self-exposure (or silliness) as one's nature permits, along with the liberating thought that no-one on the interweeblies is forced to read our exposés.

Special People (Prompt 14). Repeat the suggestions for Prompt 13. Uh oh. More socializing and food. But this time it's for ANCESTORS. So I can't invite a few old boyfriends out of simple curiosity ("and how did your life turn out with that boring bottle-blonde you married on the rebound?").

First off, I do want to say I am grateful to all the ancestors for their contributions to the family gene pool, making the present generations what they are. Speaking for myself, I would have appreciated fewer freckles and a lot more energy chromosomes. But thank you for good bone density, low cholesterol, and a healthy liver.

The invitation they cannot refuse (and by the way, they are not all direct-line people; aren't siblings and collaterals the most willing to spill the family dirt?) ―

* Number one, my Dad so he can tell me about his life before I knew him;

* His irascible grandmother IsabellaCampbell (Gaelic translator required);

* "Uncle" Peter Dougall because he was a beautiful human being;

* My beloved cousin Heather, gone way before her time;

* Grandpa's sister Milda (Freibergs) Lielmanis to untangle her romantic liaisons (more translators);

* Grandma's brother AlexanderIvanovitch Jurikas, the priest cum teacher cum newspaper editor (where are my lost cousins, your Russian descendants?!);

* Ansis Freibergs, maternal great-great grandfather, Free Thinker and donor of the gardening genes;

* Eiwertil Riis my purported 7th-great-grandfather born ca.1670 in Viljandi region, Estonia; he has some 'splaining to do about his legendary father.

Hits a nice balance between my Celtics and my Baltics, don't you think? Eight seems quite enough to keep me occupied, frantically recording their stories in between hugs and tears.

We shall have a picnic, I think. I will order up a perfect day on Lake Superior. Lolling about on chairs and blankets and cushions near a beach, no-one will be able to escape my probing questions now that they see I too am a bona fide grownup. I've always wanted to try making that 7-layer terrine I scrounged from a French magazine about forty years ago: very complicated, layers of chopped chicken, spinach, ham slices, asparagus, boiled egg, paté, une petite tomate ferme, and so on — one brilliant tour de force encompassing the major food groups with massive doses of mayo to hold it all together. Don't look at me like that. Come on, it's not like these guests really have to worry about food poisoning. This could take place around the end of June so the only extras we need are some baguettes and strawberries with lots of whipped cream (dairy = calcium).

Oh, who got me started on the foodie thing. Naff off. Now.

wildtextures.com

Snow (Prompt 15) What a relief. A complete non-sequitur. Easy. Snow is white and cold and I had enough of it growing up in northwestern Ontario and Manitoba to last a lifetime. Now it has followed me the odd winter into the city's geodome. Apart from the fact that most winters are odd these days. Unfortunately summers too can be odd lately.

Look, I'm trying to find something good here to say about snow. It's for young people, isn't it. That's what I've decided. Skating and skiing. Toboggans. Frostbite. Should I even mention ski-doos? Well, I did my share; then I moved on. There's a lot to be said for comforts like fireplaces or heading south whenever possible.

Message in a Bottle (Prompt 16) ... be serious! Write a message that a stranger somewhere in time and space might discover? For sure my bottle would go into Lake Superior in the expectation it would transit through the Great Lakes out the Gulf of St. Lawrence into the Gulf Stream and end up in Murmansk or maybe bobbing along the west coast of Africa; who knows — what with the aforesaid weather doing its own independent and undependable thing.

What could possibly be said to enrich (or baffle) that unknown recipient for an instant? Should it be treated like a teaching moment? No, too much like ubiquitous, annoying tweets. Makes one think along the lines of Chinese fortune cookies or perhaps epitaphs:

‒ No rest for the wicked[1]

‒ Living well is the best revenge[2]

‒ It must have been the effect of a nutmeg tart[3]

‒ Trust in Allah, but tie up your camel[4]

‒ It's over. It's O-O-O-VER![5]

And so forth. I really don't expect the stranger will care one way or another about footnotes. On that note the editorial we are collapsing till next time.

[1] Attributed to The Book of Isaiah in two different chapters.

[2] The irrepressible Dorothy Parker.

[3] Joseph Finsbury (Sir Ralph Richardson) in The Wrong Box, on the cause of death of his brother.

[4] Sumaiya Kazi, 16 Jan 2012 on Google+.

[5] Probably said a trillion times but Roy Orbison sang it like an aaaaangel!

© 2014 Brenda Dougall Merriman

RIIS Ancestors (Estonia) Part One

Somehow, some time ago, a distant cousin pulled me into the Geni networking website. I cooperated on the initial level, thinking this would give me a leg up on Latvian ancestors that turned into Estonian ancestors because I don't know the languages and can barely navigate Saaga, the excellent Estonia archival site of digitized historical and genealogical records.

For me, the Geni learning curve was rather steep. I didn't find their mechanisms particularly user-friendly. Therefore, much tearing of hair to straighten out the craziness that either I or the cyber gods had manipulated on my fledgling family tree: my ex-husband was shown as my father, my father was my brother, and such-like nonsense. The connection had to be shown because timewise, the Riis family is a very long way from someone with the names Dougall and Merriman. The process was compounded, naturally, by the struggle to communicate with others pursuing the same family.

The newest information on one direct line is pieced together from numerous offerings on the site. I do not know the contributors nor their research habits but few have cited specific sources of information. The exercise is for my own clarity, for what it's worth. Mistakes herein with spelling in noun cases and diacritic marks are solely my melancholy responsibility.

What I knew in advance through reliable research (not mine) in Latvian and Estonian records — population schedules of farms and Lutheran church registers — was that my great-great-grandfather Janis (aka Jaan, Jahn) JURIKAS was baptized 24 June 1793 in Tori parish, now Estonia, son of Jűrri and Ann Jurikas of the Alliko farm.[1] Janis married Liso RIIS about 1813-1814. She was born in 1794 on the Vastemöisa estate in Suure-Jaani, a parish to the east of Tori.[2] "Estates" were also known as manors. They were generally owned by upper-class Baltic Germans, Baltendeutsche, whose families had generations of residency. A parish, so-called, might be a religious or a civil administrative entity.

Janis moved his family from farms on one estate to another over a forty-five year period, traced in six different estate records, also known as "revision lists" because they would be amended from time to time to show migrations and other notations. A little more on that here. It was unusual in the early nineteenth century for a peasant to make such changes unless the next estate was owned by the same landlord (not the case in his journey). The children's baptisms in different places also reflect the family movements. 

mapsof.net

Estonia and northern Latvia as we know them today were, in that time, a province of the Russian empire. There were no geographical or political boundaries as such between them in Janis' day. We can only make guesses at why he kept moving (or was allowed to move). Family lore speaks of his rebellious nature, his small acts of disobedience against the stifling restrictions of peasant life. His later conversion to the Orthodox faith (more in a prior post) supports this portrait.

On Geni, the generations from JURIKAS back to RIIS accelerated into multiple greats. At least seven researchers have input and/or agreed on the lineage (a happenstance that does not make it so!). Herewith, in brief, the bare information from my "Merge Center" on Geni with its linked connections — at face value for now.

3rd great-grandmother:

Liso Riis born 10 February 1794 Vastemöisa estate

4th great-grandfather:

Andres Riis born ca.1754, died 21 November 1843; wife Anno

sources: "according to the Church Book was born c1856"

5th great-grandfather:

Jaan Riis "Terrama" (aka Töramaa) born ca.1725, died 12 January 1800; wife Anno

sources: "popular tradition" – "Both were born Teramane (Abaja) farm"

6th great-grandfather:

Hans Riis born ca.1705 "Riisa, Tori," died 9 March 1785; wife Kai

sources: "popular tradition"

7th great-grandfather:

Evert (Eiwertil) Riisa Riis born ca.1670

sources: unnamed 1690 tax list [household/family composition is unclear]

8th great-grandfather:

"Tiit Kolk" born ca.1650

sources: folklore

The "sources" above are merely my quick summaries from the individual profiles. Online translation programs are a daunting experience, trying to making sense of the resulting gabble! It's clear to me that some types of records revealed the specific dates of death but they aren't mentioned. Approximate years of birth were calculated from a man's age as an adult on an estate or tax list. The timeline back to Hans looks plausible but things get even fuzzier after that. While potential sources for all vital events such as baptisms and burials have perhaps not been uncovered (wouldn't it be gratifying to see some marriages!) religious records are scarce before the mid-eighteenth century.

Preliminary evaluation only shows the obvious holes. My admiration is boundless for those family historians who doggedly overcome the difficulties of tracing people with no surnames in a foreign country, foreign language, in the eighteenth century and earlier.

The folklore about Tiit Kolk and his origins is interesting, to be investigated for another post. There's work to be done on geography and history and records and the language barrier. Eight greats may begin to materialize ghost-like but require much more substance to be real or true.

[1] Pärnu Eliisabeti (Pärnu, Estonia) Lutheran baptisms, 1793; Estonian Archives (EAA) 1279.1.142, p. 258.

[2] Vecsalaca, Latvia, revision list 1834; Latvian State Historical Archives (LSHA) 199.1.399, pp. 189-190.

© 2014 Brenda Dougall Merriman

Wordless Wednesday (Cemeteries)

Jerusalem cemetery outside the walls on the slope of Mount of Olives; photo BDM November 2011.

                 It's also New Year's Day and Hump Day as well!

Israeli camel

The Book of Me (5)

Instead of a genealogy problem-solving post, more pressure from the biographical division of blogging. As anyone can see, it's an uphill struggle to stay on top of The Book of Me, but can't let the side down now. The project has a fatal attraction if only because I keep saying to myself who knows "me" better than "me" and let's face it, genealogists have a congenital desire to keep the record straight. We have principles.

The Year I Was Born (Prompt 12) had WAR in it. Like really, what else do we need to know about that? With no personal memory of the year I can attest that the war had an exciting conclusion called V-J Day when all the grownups in summer camp country went nuts, donning outlandish costumes, making a celebratory procession from house to house, trailing fumes of whisky and the occasional soul lost in the dark. Dr Langtry dressed up like Alley Oop (of vintage cartoon fame) and broke his ankle tripping over a chamber pot.

Creator of this series, Julie Goucher, probably suspects some of us are slacking so she makes it more complicated. If I got the message correctly (note to self: go see what other Geneabloggers have done with it). Special/Iconic People (Prompt 13) is about having no more than twelve people to your home for a proper meal. Celebrity people, famous people, living or dead. Fantasizing, shall we say. I am also fantasizing I have a dining room any more. It's not to include any ancestors because Julie is going to throw that at us next up.

Plus, what food would you serve? A tall order, that. If I still lived on the farm I could have a corn roast and that would be that because I have totally forgotten how to cook. Maybe throw in some Octoberfest sausages for the barbecue. No, save that idea for the relatives. I'm breaking into a sweat here, trying to remember all the gourmet meals I used to make from scratch; celebrities deserve a little more fuss, don't you think? Musing along the lines of suckling pig with preserved crabapples and a green veg — how's that asparagus doing in the garden patch. A little Calvados in the dessert soufflé, hmmmm?

It gets tougher. Whom to invite? Thinking we should have dinner music but hey, would kd lang make an appearance? Get Grandma's humungous crocheted tablecloth out of the cupboard. The guest list is hardest of all. First I made a long list. It got out of hand right off the bat, a huge traffic jam in my flailing onward progress. Categories something like the Nobel Prize has would have eased the project. Am I going to choose writers? Politicians? Musicians? Historical greats? Shit disturbers? I'm exhausting myself already, suppressing the thought that the future with Julie promises even more hard work.

Anyhoo, a mix of the quick and the dead: Gertrude Bell ranks right up there with Emma from one of my favourite blogs; Jo Nesbo and Christopher Hitchens are a must; John Cleese and that delicious rake Peter O'Toole at about age 50 (eliminating the need for George Clooney as eye candy); Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots, and Anna Politkovskaya; CC Landon, cherished philosophy professor of my formative years, and Dr. Donald Low would add to the growing ecumenical flavour. How we doing? Eight. We will need translators; do they count? Let's add Alexander the Great and Miriam Toews and Leonard Cohen and Col. Chris Hadfield. 

There. I see I am building a noisy evening of opinionated rascals and ideologues. Let's hope the wine settles them into a mood of respectful rapport. Oh dear, the wine list; the house wine Goats Do Roam seems a bit plebeian. I shall be slumped in a corner making weak efforts at maintaining order. Horrors, for sure I am omitting some really great people I want to meet. Must save the long list for another time.

No principles were sacrificed in the creation of this post.

© 2013 Brenda Dougall Merriman