CHAPTER HEADINGS

1) EARLY WISCONSIN BEFORE JAMES BRUCE ARRIVED
2) THE DAVID KELLOGG CARTTERS IN ROCHESTER, N.Y.
3) CARTER AND KELLOGG FAMILIES UNITE AT WESTFIELD, MASS.
4) CARTTER SONS MIGRATE TO LOWVILLE, N.Y.
5) WHY THE 2 “TS”? THE HOLLISTERS INTRODUCED
6) ROCHESTER, N.Y. HAS GROWING PAINS
7) FIVE CARTTER BROTHERS THEIR SISTER AND MOTHER
8) JAMES BRUCE IN MICHIGAN
9) WISCONSIN TERRITORY BECKONS IN 1843
10) A NEW STATE, WISCONSIN, IS ORGANIZED
11) PROSPECTING FOR LAND IN IOWA
12) THE BLACK RIVER COUNTRY OF WISCONSIN
13) JAMES AND ISADORA MARRY – MEET THE SWIFT FAMILY
14) THE CARTTER FARM AND DISCO COMMUNITY 1860 – 1880
15) FAMILY SORROWS AND A NATION AT WAR
16) JULIA AND THE ADAMS FAMILY. SWIFTS MOVE WEST
17) DAVID MARRIED AND JAMES BRUCE EULOGIZED
18) EMMA LANPHER’S FAMILY. ISADORA TRAVELS
19) THE 1900’S BRING CHANGES. ISADORA’S PASSING
20) DAVID CARTTER’S FAMILY CHILDREN AND GRANCHILDREN
21) MIGRATION CONTINUES AS THE CARTTERS SCATTER

Sunday morning we dropped Princess off at a home with a mom, an animal-loving daughter, and a son who is sort of indifferent but “cool” with a dog. The mom impressed both of us right away as the sort who will take care of things properly – before either one of us could mention the tags and registration, she had asked us about them; we siad we would bring them over when they showed up in the mail. Mom checked out the ID tag, the county tag, and the Avid tag, asked about each one. Princess, for her part, quickly made friends with Daughter and proved her willingness to play by plopping herself in Daughter’s lap when Daughter sat on the lawn.

After a brief tour of their house, TMBWitW and I took our leave while Princess was exploring the back yard. With prayer and support, this home should be the one for Princess. Mom, Daughter, and Son are moving to a house with a bigger yard in the near future, so Princess will have even more room to roam.

The remaining dogs were overjoyed to wake up this morning and not be intimidated by Princess. The cats partied all night.

We got the car back! It was ready yesterday (Saturday) and we were able to get to the shop after TMBWitW finished work and before the shop closed. The owner had already taken off for the day, but Scarlet jumped in and I followed her home. Started following her home.

About ten miles down the outer loop, on the way to our abode, that noise happened again. Not as bad as on the trip to Kingman, according to TMBWitW, but still. She pulled over, I pulled over, we swapped cars, and I nursed the J30 to the house in direct drive while placing a few phone calls. It goes back to the shop Monday.

*sigh*

Along with re-typing The Wisconsin Cartters as I had originally planned, I will be posting scans of the pages. While trying to duplicate Grandfather’s efforts, I realized that I would have to scan quite a bit in anyway, with the pictures that he included of family members.

Now for the fun part:

If you are a member of the Cartter family tree, and you see your name on one of the pages (or, if you can provide names and information to fill out a branch here or there) please e-mail me at the address in the sidebar with whatever information you may have to update. Pictures are encouraged. I will include what you submit in the on-line update of this genealogical record.

Keep an eye out for the first postings – in the next few days.

An innocuous question, one that would not be out of place almost anywhere except where I was standing.

The lady, who appeared to have been bereft of the pleasure of sleeping under a roof for a while, had a cigarette dangling from her lips at the time. There was no way she could tell her odds of getting a light from me were way down for several reasons – I myself hadn’t smoked in well over ten years, therefore I no longer carried a lighter or matches with me; I am no longer in the habit of helping others in their bid for a long drawn out suicide attempt; and I didn’t think she needed another one, since her voice was already about a half-octave lower than mine. Oh, yeah – I was also standing at the rear of my vehicle with a gasoline nozzle in my hand. In a gas station. At night.

(OK, the “at night” bit wasn’t needed, but I like it when there is an odd number of rifts to finish a paragraph. Especially in sarcasm.)

She seemed genuinely insulted when I said “No, and even if I did, I wouldn’t give you a light standing on top of 50,000 gallons of gasoline.”

“Well, I wouldn’t light it up right here.” Great. She’s a heavy thinker.

“Oh, so I would just give you my lighter, you would stand off the property by a step or two, light up, and then walk back over here with a lit cigarette in your hand to return my lighter? I would have to pass on that opportunity also.”

(Please note that I used to drive a fuel truck. 10,000 gallons of gasoline right behind you gives you an alarmingly clear view of some of the stupid stunts that are pulled by less attentive Darwin nominees. I also know that a lit cigarette is slightly less likely to cause a gasoline explosion than an open flame, but why mess with the odds?)

Those of you who feel for the makers of Darwinistic attempts will be happy to know that she did, finally, get a light – from a fellow fool who pulled into the gas station with a lit cigarette in his hand hanging out his window. Wouldn’t want to smell up the inside of the car now, would we?