Sleeping in my old bedroom is a lot of work. I'm horribly allergic to something here, and I was having a terrible time sneezing and coughing and tossing about until I finally got to sleep around dawn. I had a lot on my mind, and so I spent some time reading through my family history, which I'd really never known about until now.

Apparently i'm 13th generation, and I have connections to Boston, Rhode Island and Maine. All that New England Yankee stuff. Huh. There were several generations of shoemakers and shipwrights, and even some high-seas swashbuckling types peppered in there, too. Very strange. I always associated myself more with the other side of my family, the more recent immigrants.

I've managed to get through a small amount of my mom's things, but I found some of my own things that I can easily see my way clear to donate and recycle, so that's something, I suppose. I have a lot to do.