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Monday, August 31, 2026

Randy's Genealogy Pot-Pourri - Week Ending 30 August 2026

 Here are the highlights of my family history and genealogy related activities over the past week (ending Sunday, 30 August 2026). 

1)  Attended the Chula Vista Genealogical Society (CVGS) GeneralMeeting on Wednesday with about 30 in atrendance on Zoom. Cari A. Taplin presented "Using Lists To Find Proof."

2)  Curated genealogy-related articles to keep myself and my readers updated on the genealogy world in:

7)  Wrote an AI-assisted short story about my maternal grandparents lives and romance on Genea-Musings and Substack:
8)  Housekeeping -- updated my Randy's AI and Genealogy page and added to the AI-assisted story  compendiums. Added a number of the recent Google Notebook Videos to my YouTube channel at https://www.youtube.com/@RandySeaver.

9)  Searched for more records of ancestral families on Ancestry, FamilySearch and MyHeritage, downloaded record images to my digital file folders, and added research notes, events and sources to RootsMagic profiles.  My RootsMagic family tree now has 75,121 profiles (up 0 from last week)  and 148,115 source citations (up 24).  

10)  My AncestryDNA test now has 52,456 DNA matches (up 356 from 236 August) with 2,222  "close" matches (20 cM or more) today (up 1), with one new ThruLines.  Added Notes to no Matches, and added no new DNA match lines to RootsMagic. MyHeritageDNA test now has 14,864 DNA matches (up 30 from 23  August) for me, with 26 Theories of Family Relativity.  

11) Wrote 22 Genea-Musings blog posts last week (Sunday through Saturday), of which one was a press release. The most viewed post last week was Amanuensis Monday -- 1821 Deed of David Kirby to Humphry Kirby for Land in Westport, Bristol County, Massachusetts with 306 views.  Genea-Musings had about 183,000 page views last week and over 1,328,000 views over the past month (lots of bots I think). 

12)  Real life events:  Visited Linda several days this past week at her memory care facility.  Went to the grocery store on Monday and Thursday. Attended CVGS colleague Shirley Becker's funeral on Thursday. Finished reading The Attorney by Steve Martini and started Twisted by Jonathan Kellerman. Watched the Padres games - they were 1-5 this past week and are 72-65.

NOTE:  I spent about 30 hours on these genealogy activities this week,  learned quite a bit, and had some genealogy fun!

                           =============================================

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Copyright (c) 2026, Randall J. Seaver

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A Day In the Life of the Benjamin Seaver Family in Westminster, Massachusetts in 1800

 My 4th great-grandfaher Benjamin Seaver (1757-1816) had married Martha Whitney in 1783 and they had seven children by 1800.  Benjamin's biography is in ABC Biography of Benjamin Seaver (1757-1816) of Massachusetts, based on my genealogical research.

I wondered what what the family's daily life was like in the summer of 1800.  My prompt to Anthropic Claude was: "Please construct a story about the Day in the Life of the Benjamin Seaver family in 1800 in Westminster, Massachusetts, based on the attached biography."

(Google Gemini Notebook Infographic - A Day in the Life of the Benjamin Seaver Family in 1800)

Here is the Claude Sonnet 5 story:


A Day in the Life: The Seaver Household

Westminster, Massachusetts, June 1800

The Household at Dawn

The Seaver household in June 1800 was a crowded, bustling place—nine or ten people sharing a frame house on the outskirts of Westminster, overlooking the productive farms Benjamin had accumulated over the past fifteen years. It was a warm June morning, and the first light of dawn was just beginning to break over the fields.

The Household:

  • Benjamin Seaver Sr. (43 years old) - the patriarch and farmer

  • Martha Whitney Seaver (35 years old) - his wife and the heart of the household

  • Achsah (15 years old) - oldest daughter, nearly ready for courtship

  • Abigail (13 years old) - second daughter, beginning to be a serious help to her mother

  • Job (11 years old) - oldest son, rapidly becoming a real farm hand

  • Benjamin Jr. (8 years old) - learning to work alongside his father

  • Susannah (5-6 years old) - companion to the younger children

  • Martha Jr. (3 years old) - still one of "the little ones"

  • Silas (less than 1 year old) - a babe in arms, born just six months ago

  • Sarah (Read) Seaver (over 70) - Benjamin's widowed mother, living with them since his father died thirteen years earlier

It was a prosperity that Grandfather Norman and Grandmother Sarah had worked toward but never quite achieved. Now their eldest son had made it real.

4:30 AM - Before Sunrise

Benjamin Sr. was already awake and dressed. He had learned his discipline from his own father and the Revolutionary War. The farm waited for no man, and June meant hard work during the long daylight hours. He pulled on his work clothes—worn linen shirt, heavy wool breeches, wool stockings, work boots—and headed down the narrow stairs.

The house was still silent, though not for long. Benjamin Sr. took a lantern and walked out to the barn, a substantial structure about a hundred yards from the house. At forty-three, he could still do a full day's work, and he believed in starting before the heat of the day took hold.

In the barn, he began with the cattle. The cows needed milking—they had several, more than his father ever had. The work was meditative, rhythmic, and necessary. He had built this prosperity through discipline and hard work, and these early morning hours alone were part of that.

5:00 AM - The Household Stirs

As Benjamin Sr. finished the first milking, Martha Sr. was waking upstairs. Even before Benjamin left the bed, she was mentally cataloging her day: Silas had been fussy in the night (he was teething), little Martha had wet the bed and needed changing, Susannah had the beginnings of a cough, the butter needed churning, the garden needed weeding, the mending pile was enormous, and today was washing day.

She rose, dressed quickly in a simple linen gown with an apron, and woke Achsah and Abigail. These two older daughters were essential to her survival—at fifteen and thirteen, they were old enough to do real work but young enough to still live at home.

"Achsah, fetch the water and get the kitchen fire going," Martha said, brushing her dark hair back. "Abigail, the butter churn needs attention from yesterday, and we need to get the wash water heating. We'll need every bit of hot water today."

The girls rose without complaint. This was their life—necessary work that started before dawn.

5:30 AM - The Boys Appear

Benjamin Jr., at eight years old, woke to his brother's absence beside him in the bed he shared with Job and the sleeping Silas. Job, at eleven, was already pulling on his clothes. At this age, Job was transitioning from boyhood to manhood. He was tall for his age, strong, and increasingly trusted with real responsibility on the farm.

"Come on, Ben," Job said, nudging his younger brother. "Father will need us."

The two boys dressed in their work clothes—simple linen shirts and worn wool trousers—and headed out to the barn barefoot, saving their shoes for Sundays and winter.

When they arrived at the barn, they found their father finishing with the cows. "Good lads," Benjamin Sr. said. "Job, you help me with the rest of the milking. Benjamin, take the slop bucket to the pigs and get them fed. Make sure the chickens have water too."

Young Benjamin Jr., not yet tall enough to reach the milk pails easily, took pride in his assignments. His father was teaching him—showing him how a farm worked, how responsibility meant doing what needed doing without complaint.

6:00 AM - The Kitchen Comes to Life

Martha Sr., Achsah, and Abigail had transformed the kitchen. The fire roared in the hearth, multiple pots of water were heating—some for washing clothes, some for morning meals, some for washing bodies. The smell of smoke and wood smoke filled the air. In the backyard, a large cauldron was being filled with water and set over an outdoor fire—the first step in wash day.

Grandmother Sarah appeared, moving slowly in the early morning light. Though she was over seventy, she was still useful. She settled into a chair by the hearth and began shelling peas that would be boiled for dinner. Her hands, though gnarled with age, worked quickly and surely.

"Martha, the soap needs making next week," she said to her daughter-in-law. "We're running low."

"I know, Mother," Martha replied, not unkindly. The making of soap was a full day's work—rendering pig fat with wood ash lye, stirring the mixture for hours until it thickened. It was scheduled for later in the month.

Little Martha Jr., now awake and crying because she was hungry and her bed was wet, was scooped up by Abigail, who changed her into dry clothes with the efficiency of long practice and set her at the table with a wooden spoon and a bowl to keep her occupied.

6:30 AM - Breakfast

The men and boys returned from the barn around 6:30, sweaty from work, ready for breakfast. On the table Martha had set out cornbread from yesterday's baking, eggs (the hens were laying well in June), fresh milk, salt pork, and butter. Grandmother Sarah had made a pot of hasty pudding (cornmeal cooked with milk), and there was cider for everyone.

The meal was eaten quickly and without much conversation. Benjamin Sr. discussed the day's work with Job: they needed to weed the corn fields, check on some of the north pasture fencing that was looking weak, and possibly ride to the gristmill to have some grain ground.

"Take Benjamin with you," Martha said to her husband. "He needs to understand these things, and I need Abigail to help me with the washing."

Benjamin Jr.'s face lit up. A trip to the gristmill was an adventure—something different from farm work.

Susannah sat close to her mother, still looking listless. Martha felt her forehead—no fever, but the cough was real. "You'll stay close to the house today, miss," she said firmly. "No running about in the heat."

7:00 AM - Work Commences

Benjamin Sr., Job, and young Benjamin Jr. headed to the fields. They worked methodically, Job and his father hoeing weeds from the corn rows, young Benjamin following behind, pulling smaller weeds and learning the difference between the useful corn plants and the intruders that would choke them out.

The sun was already warm. Benjamin Jr. drank from the water bucket his father had brought and wiped his forehead. He was learning what his father had learned from his own father—that honest work was the foundation of everything.

Back at the house, the washing operation was in full swing. Martha and Abigail hauled heavy buckets of water, stirred the clothes in the cauldron, and rinsed them in tubs. The work was hot, steaming, and endless. Achsah carried water, wrung clothes, and hung them on lines in the sun to dry. Even at fifteen, she did this without complaint—washing day came every few weeks, and it was simply part of life.

Grandmother Sarah remained in the kitchen, continuing to shell peas and beginning to prepare vegetables for the midday dinner. The rhythmic work soothed her. She had done this work for fifty years, and though her hands ached and her back complained, the work itself was familiar and necessary.

Little Martha Jr. played in the kitchen, occasionally getting in the way or needing attention. Silas, mercifully, slept in a cradle near the fire, though Martha kept one ear attuned to his cries.

9:00 AM - Mid-Morning

By mid-morning, the farm was fully engaged. In the fields, Benjamin Sr. and the boys had covered considerable ground. Young Benjamin's hands were blistering where they weren't calloused, but he kept working. His father occasionally showed him a better way to grip the hoe, praised him for persistence, and gave him water when he needed it.

Job worked alongside his father with growing competence. At eleven, he was becoming a real asset to the farm's labor. Benjamin Sr. was already thinking about the next few years—Job would be sixteen, eighteen, and with the farm's size increasing, they would need all the help they could get.

At the house, Martha faced a moment of crisis: Silas had awakened hungry and fussy, his teething making him miserable. Susannah's cough had worsened slightly. Little Martha Jr. had got into the mending pile and tangled thread around herself. The washing was proceeding but slowly. Achsah was carrying water and wringing clothes while Abigail stirred the cauldron.

"Help me here, Abigail," Martha said, managing her emotions. This was motherhood and household management—constant, demanding, with no breaks and no complaining.

Grandmother Sarah made a tea from dried herbs for Susannah's cough and settled her on a blanket in the shade of the house, where she could rest and stay warm despite the summer heat.

12:00 Noon - Midday Dinner

By noon, the hottest part of the day, work slowed. Benjamin Sr. and the boys made their way back from the fields. They were hot, sweaty, covered in dust and dirt, and incredibly hungry. Benjamin Jr. was exhausted but proud—he had worked like a man all morning.

They washed in water Abigail had drawn, dried on a linen cloth, and sat down to dinner. The meal was substantial: a pottage of peas and beans with meat, cornbread, butter, cheese, pickled vegetables, and cider.

As they ate, Benjamin Sr. reported on the morning's work to Martha: "We've cleared the corn of weeds in the east field. The north fence needs repair—deer got through and took some of the grain. I'll need to tend to that this week. The boy did well," he said, nodding at Benjamin Jr., who flushed with pride.

"The washing is going well," Martha reported. "We'll have everything dried by evening if the sun stays clear. Susannah's cough is worse—I'm watching her. Silas is teething something fierce."

They discussed these matters—the business of running a large household and farm—with the practical efficiency of long marriage.

Young Benjamin Jr. ate hungrily and listened. His father was teaching him, by example and by conversation, that running a farm required planning, attention to detail, and partnership with a capable wife.

1:00 PM - Afternoon Work

After dinner, Benjamin Sr. decided to take young Benjamin to the gristmill to have some grain ground. This was partly work, partly education, partly a treat for the boy. Job stayed behind to help with necessary tasks around the house and farm.

"Help your mother where you can," Benjamin Sr. told Job. "There's fence to check in the southern pasture, but not in this heat. Do that later when it's cooler."

As Benjamin Sr. and young Benjamin headed toward the gristmill, the boy asked endless questions: "Why do we have to grind the grain? Where does the miller get his power? How much does it cost?"

His father answered patiently, explaining that some grain was ground into flour for bread, some into meal for cornbread and pudding, and that the miller took a portion of the grain as payment for his work. He explained how the water wheel turned the stones, how wheat was different from corn. He was teaching his son not just about mills, but about economy, trade, and the interconnection of community.

Back at the house, Martha, Abigail, and Achsah continued the endless work of washing. Job helped where he could—hauling water, carrying wet clothes, hanging them to dry. Martha Sr. kept one eye on Susannah, who was resting, and one ear attuned to Silas, who woke crying from his nap.

Grandmother Sarah had moved to the front step, where it was slightly cooler, and was now working on mending—a never-ending task. She preferred work she could do sitting down, and there was always more mending.

3:00 PM - Afternoon Heat

By mid-afternoon, the farm had settled into a slower pace. It was too hot to do strenuous work. The intense morning labor had exhausted most of the family. Benjamin Sr. and young Benjamin returned from the gristmill, the meal now ground. The mill had been crowded—others had the same idea to get their grain ground in spring and early summer.

Benjamin Sr. decided to tackle the fence repair in the southern pasture, but he worked slowly, stopping frequently for water. Young Benjamin sat in the shade, still energized by his adventure to the mill, and watched his father work.

At the house, the washing was nearly complete. The clotheslines were full of drying garments fluttering in the breeze. Martha and Abigail were beginning the task of putting things away—not fully dry in this humidity, but dry enough. The cauldron was being emptied, the water hauled for other uses (there would be no wasted water here).

Susannah was feeling a bit better, sitting up and taking some cool water and a piece of bread. Silas had finally settled into a fitful sleep.

Little Martha Jr. had been put down for an afternoon nap, her tiny form curled up on a blanket in the cooler corner of the kitchen.

Grandmother Sarah had finished one piece of mending and moved to another, her gnarled fingers working with practiced efficiency despite the heat.

5:00 PM - Late Afternoon

As the afternoon waned, work picked up again. The heat was breaking slightly, and there was still much to do. Benjamin Sr. finished the fence repair and brought Job with him to bring in the cattle for the evening milking. Young Benjamin, tired from his day, helped by opening and closing gates.

At the house, Martha began thinking about supper—the evening meal would be lighter than dinner but still substantial. She had: bread (baked yesterday), butter, cheese, milk, cold pork from yesterday's meal, pickled vegetables, cider. She was considering making hasty pudding as well—comfort food, economical, and filling.

Achsah drew water and began to help her mother prepare the evening meal. Abigail continued straightening the house after the upheaval of washing day—folding clothes that were now dry, putting linens away in the chests, sweeping the floor.

Grandmother Sarah had moved inside, away from the heat, and was sitting by the window with her mending, getting the last of the afternoon light for her work.

6:00 PM - Evening Chores

By six o'clock, the evening milking was in full swing. Benjamin Sr. and Job worked in the barn while young Benjamin watched and helped where he could—he was still too small to manage a cow, but he could carry things and learn by observation.

Martha was in the kitchen with Achsah and Abigail. The fire was lit again (there was never not a fire at the hearth), and pots were beginning to simmer. The smell of cooking food filled the house—bread and pottage and the simpler foods that would make up their supper.

Martha kept one eye on Silas, who was playing with a wooden spoon and a wooden bowl, making endless noise and creating endless mess. Susannah was set to help stir—she was old enough to do simple kitchen work, and the heat from the fire was good for her lingering cough.

Little Martha Jr. woke from her nap, cross and hungry, and wanted to be held while her mother worked. Martha managed this as she always did—shifting the child to her hip, continuing to work one-handed, and consoling the girl with patient murmurs.

6:30 PM - The Family Gathers

As the sun began to lower toward the horizon, the family gathered. The barn chores were complete. Benjamin Sr., Job, and young Benjamin came in from the barn, hot and tired but satisfied with a day's work.

Supper was simple but filling: bread with butter and cheese, the pottage from the cooked peas and vegetables, cold pork, cider. Everyone ate standing up or sitting where they could find a spot, eating quickly to refuel for the remaining evening tasks.

"You did good work today, Benjamin," his father said to the boy, who was too tired to eat much but too proud to leave the table.

Grandmother Sarah ate slowly, watching her family with the satisfaction of an elder who had seen much and knew the value of what was before her. Her own husband had worked like this. Her son was working like this. Her grandchildren were learning to work. The pattern continued.

7:00 PM - Evening Leisure (Limited)

After supper, there was still work to do, but the pace slowed. In the fields, the long daylight of June was just beginning to fade. Benjamin Sr. stepped outside and looked at his property—the fields growing strong, the fences mostly sound, the animals well cared for. Fifteen years of work had built this. More work lay ahead, but he could rest for an evening.

Job helped his father check on the animals one last time, ensuring all were secure for the night. Young Benjamin, completely exhausted, sat by the hearth with his grandmother, who was telling him a story while continuing to work on her mending.

Achsah had begun preparing for the next day—checking what items needed to be mended, what flour was needed for tomorrow's baking, what vegetables were ripest in the garden.

Abigail helped her mother wash up after supper—another endless task. Dirty bowls, plates, utensils accumulated constantly, and water had to be heated to wash them properly.

Susannah was curled up near the fire, half-asleep, her cough seeming better.

Little Martha Jr. was playing quietly with Silas, the two youngest finding simple entertainment in the domestic scene.

8:00 PM - Nightfall

By eight o'clock, the summer sun was finally setting. The long day was ending. Martha Sr. was beginning to think about getting the younger children to bed. Silas would need to be nursed and settled. Little Martha Jr. would need her nightclothes and bed. Susannah would go up early—her cough warranted rest.

Grandmother Sarah was still working on her mending—she did this in the dimming light until she could barely see, then set it aside for the morning. She would head to her small room soon, exhausted from the day.

Benjamin Sr. was settling into a chair, reviewing mentally the day's accomplishments and tomorrow's priorities. He would need to check on that northern fence more thoroughly. The corn was looking good but might need another weeding in a week or so. The hay would be ready soon—that was the next big work. Job could help more with that—it would be good training.

The candles had been lit sparingly—they were expensive—and the family gathered by firelight and candlelight as darkness fell completely outside.

9:00 PM - Retiring for the Night

By nine o'clock, most of the household was in bed. Martha Sr., Achsah, Abigail, Susannah, and little Martha Jr. had gone upstairs to the sleeping chamber they shared. The girls undressed, said their prayers, and settled into beds.

Benjamin Sr., Job, and young Benjamin headed upstairs to their chamber, where Silas was already sleeping in his cradle near the parents' bed. The boys fell into bed, exhausted, and were asleep within minutes.

Grandmother Sarah had retired to her small chamber, her day of work complete.

The house settled into quiet. The fire was banked but not extinguished—it would be kept alive through the night, requiring less work in the morning to rekindle.

Reflection on a Day in 1800

This June day in 1800 was typical for the Seaver household—endless work, multiple generations living and working together, clear divisions of labor based on age and strength, but also deep family bonds and purposeful work.

The contrast with Benjamin Sr.'s own childhood would have been evident to him:

His father's generation (1760s-1770s):

  • Struggling to establish farms

  • Frequent moves (Sudbury to Shrewsbury to Westminster)

  • Marginal economic existence

  • Many children, some with no further record (meaning early death or disappearance)

  • Limited property

Benjamin Sr.'s generation (1800):

  • Established, prosperous farms

  • Stable community

  • Children who would likely live to adulthood and have families

  • Significant property holdings

  • Ability to support aging parents

  • Clear trajectory of improvement

Yet the daily life—the work, the discipline, the family structure, the cooperation of all ages—would have been familiar to Benjamin Sr. from his own childhood. What had changed was the prosperity, not the fundamental way of life.

By the time this day ended, every member of the Seaver household had contributed to its functioning. From tiny Silas's existence (requiring Martha's care, which allowed other work to be organized differently), to Grandmother Sarah's mending and counsel, to Benjamin Sr.'s leadership and decision-making, everyone had a role.

This was a working family in early America—prosperous by the standards of their time, building something that would sustain them and their children for generations to come.

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The AI Google NotebookLM Video Overview of this story is in (and on my YouTube channel): 

This is historical fiction based on known events in the lives of my ancestors -- it might have been this way. Henry and Sarah (Feather) Carringer are my 3rd great-grandparents through their son David Jackson "D.J." Carringer (1828-1902), and I have significant information about this family from the available records, but I know nothing about their day-to-day lives.

As always, I am amazed at what life was like in any place over 170 years ago. This description of Henry's family life in 1850 Pennsylvania is interesting and so different from our current daily activities.

After I read these types of social history summaries, I wish that I could be a time traveler for one day to visit this Carringer family in 1850 Pennsylvania and witness their daily lives.  I'm glad that the general lifestyles and occupations are known from historical records and witness accounts.

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Links to my blog posts about using Artificial Intelligence are on my Randy's AI and Genealogy page.  Links to AI information and articles about Artificial Intelligence in Genealogy by other genealogists are on my AI and Genealogy Compendium page.

Copyright (c) 2026, Randall J. Seaver

The URL for this post is: 

Please comment on this post on the website by clicking the URL above and then the "Comments" link at the bottom of each post.  Share it on X, Facebook, or Pinterest using the icons below.  Or contact me by email at randy.seaver@gmail.com.  Note that all comments are moderated, so they may not appear immediately.

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Amanuensis Monday -- 1796 Deed of Heirs of Joshua Richmond to Benjamin Sowle for Land in Westport, Bristol County, Massachusetts

This week's document for transcription is the 1796 Deed of the heirs of Joshua Richmond of Tiverton, Rhode Island selling 803 acres of land in Westport, Massachusetts to Benjamin Sowle in Westport, Bristol County, Massachusetts for $2,650.

a)  Bristol County, Massachusetts, Deeds 1792-1796, Pages 168-169, Image 375 of 867

The transcription of this deed (with help from FamilySearch Full-Text Search, with some errors corrected) is:

[Page 168, Starting about half way down the left-hand page of the image]

Know all Men by these presents , that we Elizabeth Richmond, and 
James Wiswell, & Sally his wife of Tiverton in the County of Newport, and Joshua Richmond 
of Providence in ye County of Providence and all of ye State of Rhode Island, and 
Deborah Richmond of Situate Commonwealth of Massachusetts heirs to Joshua Richmond 
late of Westport Dec'd for ye consideration of Twenty Six hundred & Fifty Dollars to us 
in hand paid before ye ensealing hereof, the receipt whereof we do acknowledge ourselves fully satisfied by Benjamin Sowle of Westport in the County of Bristol & Commonwealth of 
Massachusetts , have sold & conveyed unto the s'd Benjamin Sowle a tract of Land lying 
being in Westport containing about Eighty Acres be ye same more or less, and is bounded as follows.
Northerly & westerly partly by Land of Maj'r Silvester Brownell, and partly by Land 
of Joseph Brownell, Southerly by Land of Benjamin Davol & Easterly partly by Land 
of said Silvester Brownell, & partly by a pond.                           To have & to hold to 
the said Benjamin Sowle his heirs & assigns forever, the above described farm with the 
Buildings, previlidges & appurtenances thereto belonging, and we the said Joshua, Eliz-
abeth & Deborah Richmond and James Wiswell, & Sally his wife do Jointly & Severally
covenant with ye said Benjamin Sowle that before the ensealing hereof we are the Sole own-
ers of ye above described premises & will warrant & defend ye same against ye Claims 
of all persons whatever hereby binding our heirs, Each & every of them for ye true perfor-
mance of this covenant. - In Witness whereof we have Set our hands & affixed our Seals 
this Eleventh Day of March in the year of our Lord one Thousand Seven Hundred & Ninety Five 
Signed Sealed & Delivered                                                Joshua Richmond   {s)
in presence of                                                                     Deborah Richmond   {s)
Isaac Cory                                                                         Elizabeth Richmond  {s}
Benjamin Davol                                                                James Wiswell     {s}
Benj'a Richmond                                                               Sally Wiswell       {s}
Mary Whitridge 

[page 169]

Lem Taber
Nath'el Crandell Jr 
Newport   In Tiverton ye 8'th Day of February A D 1796. Then personally came Joshua 
Richmond, Deborah Richmond Elizabeth Richmond, James Wiswell, & Sally Wiswell his 
wife & Severally acknowledged ye above & within to be their free Voluntary Act and Deed 
hand & Seal, Before                                          Lem'l Taber Justice Peace
Received September 14'th 1796,  and recorded by James Williams Register. 
A true copy from Book 75 . Pages 135-136 of Bristol Co. No. Dist. Land Records 
                                Attest: Emma E. Pray , Examiner 

The source citation for this deed is:

"Bristol County, Massachusetts, United States land records," Deed of Elizabeth Richmond et al  to Benjamin Sowle,  executed 11 March 1796, recorded 14 eptember 1796; imaged, FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:3QS7-99ZW-SDWX?view=fullText : accessed 29 August 2026), Image Group Number: 007451275, "Bristol Deeds, 1792-1796," pages 168-169, image 375 of 867; original papers at Bristol County (Massachusetts) Register of Deeds.

By this record it appears that the heirs of Joshua Rochmond sold 80 acres of land in Westport to Benjamin Sowle for $2,650.  The parcel was bounded by lands of Silvester Brownell, Joseph Brownell, Benjamin Davol, and a pond. 

Benjamin Sowle (1719-1803) married Merinah Waite (1720-1803) in 1742 and they had two children.  They are my 6th great-grandparents through their daughter Martha Sowle (1743-1828) who married David Kirby (1740-1832) in 1763.

=========================================


Read other transcriptions of records of my relatives and ancestors at Amanuensis Monday Posts.

NOTE: Genea-blogger John Newmark (who writes the excellent TransylvanianDutch blog) started a Monday blog theme years ago called "Amanuensis Monday." John offers this definition for "amanuensis:"

"A person employed to write what another dictates or to copy what has been written by another."

The URL for this post is:  

Copyright (c) 2026, Randall J. Seaver

Please comment on this post on the website by clicking the URL above and then the "Comments" link at the bottom of each post. Share your comments on X, Facebook, or Pinterest using the icons below. Or contact me by email at randy.seaver@gmail.com.  Note that all comments are moderated, and may not appear online immediately.

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Sunday, August 30, 2026

Best of the Genea-Blogs- Week of 23 to 29 August 2026

Scores of genealogy and family history bloggers write hundreds of posts every week about their research, their families, and their interests. I appreciate each one of them and their efforts.


My criteria for "Best of ..." are pretty simple - I pick posts that advance knowledge about genealogy and family history, address current genealogy issues, provide personal family history, are funny or are poignant. I don't list posts destined for most daily blog prompts or meme submissions (but I do include summaries of them), or my own posts.

Here are my picks for great reads from the genealogy blogs for this past week:







Here are pick posts by other geneabloggers this week:

* The Chiddicks Observer Edition 69 [24 August 2026] by Paul Chiddicks on Stories Behind the Records.

* Friday’s Family History Finds [28 August 2026] by Linda Stufflebean on Empty Branches on the Family Tree.

* This week’s crème de la crème -- August 29, 2026 by Gail Dever on Genealogy a la Carte.

* GenStack [29 August 2026] by Robin Stewart on Genealogy Matters.


Readers are encouraged to go to the blogs listed above and read their articles, and add the blogs to your Favorites, Feedly, another RSS feed, or email if you like what you read. Please make a comment to them also - all bloggers appreciate feedback on what they write.

Did I miss a great genealogy blog post? Tell me! I currently am reading posts from over 900 genealogy bloggers using Feedly, but I still miss quite a few it seems.

Read past Best of the Genea-Blogs posts here.

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Copyright (c) 2026, Randall J. Seaver

The URL for this post is:  https://www.geneamusings.com/2026/08/best-of-genea-blogs-week-of-23-to-29.html

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Genealogical Society of Santa Cruz County (GSSCC) Program on Tuesday, 1 September 2026 Features Christine Klukkert

    I received this information from my friend and society colleague Gail Burk:

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Genealogical Society of Santa Cruz County (GSSCC) Lecture Series 

 Co-hosted Online by GSSCC and the Santa Cruz Public Libraries (SCPL) 

View meeting on Zoom or View In-person at Downtown Library (224 Church Street, Santa Cruz, CA 95060)
 
 To register for the Zoom meeting, please type in or click 

Tuesday, 1 September 2026, 1:00 PM PDT 

Guest Speaker:  Christine Klukkert

"Utilizing Ancestry.com with
Tips, Tricks & Tree Tactics"

Christine has used Ancestry.com as her main research platform since 2000, and has built many trees. Along the way, she has developed her own practical - - and sometimes unconventional - - approaches to organizing research, tracking evidence, and capturing the context that surrounds the records. In this session, Chris shares the methods she uses to keep her research organized, flexible, and meaningful. You will learn practical ideas you can use immediately.

Christine Klukkert is a member of the Genealogical Society of Santa Cruz County, and also a long-time member of the Santa Barbara County Genealogical Society where she wears many hats, including serving as Education Director. Chris has been researching her own family history since 1989, and she has taken a deep dive into DNA analysis and the accompanying tree-building that is essential to understanding her genetic history.

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Disclosure:  I am a member of this organization in Santa Cruz, California. I receive a free membership for presenting occasional presentations.


Copyright (c) 2026, Randall J. Seaver

Please comment on this post on the website by clicking the URL above and then the "Comments" link at the bottom of each post. Share it on Twitter, Facebook, or Pinterest using the icons below. Or contact me by email at randy.seaver@gmail.com.  All comments are moderated, and may not be posted immediately.

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Betty and Fred’s Story: Building a Life Together – The Last Week on Twin Oaks Avenue

 Here is the latest chapter in the story of the married life and times of my parents, Fred and Betty (Carringer) Seaver, who married in July 1942. The background information and the list of chapters of their life together are listed at the end of this post.  This is historical fiction with real people and real events, and is how it might have been.

And now we are up to  late-August 1944, two years plus into World War II.  Fred is required to report on August 26th for duty to the U.S. Navy and the week before was busy. 


                (AI NotebookLM Infographic - Betty and Fred's Story, The Last Week Before)

Based on the biographies and the earlier stories, I asked Anthropic Claude Sonnet 5 to tell another story - what happened next (I offered some suggestions!)?  


The Last Week on Twin Oaks Avenue

Thursday, 24 August 1944

By Thursday morning the little house at 577 Twin Oaks Avenue had the look of a place already half gone. Boxes stood in stacks along the hallway, each one labeled in Betty's neat hand — GARAGE, or BETTY'S ROOM, FERN ST. — and the furniture that would make the move had been pushed to the middle of the rooms, waiting.

Marshall Chamberlain pulled up a little before nine with his small truck, and the men came not long after — Rod Steddom, Dick Tazelaar, George Lyons, all of them in work shirts with sleeves rolled, ready to sweat through the last of August. Eleanor Steddom with Clark on her hip, and Phyllis Tazelaar with little Richard too, and they settled on the back porch with Betty and Randy while the men went to work, so that the morning had two rhythms running side by side: the scrape and grunt of furniture being carried down the front steps, and the easy talk of three young mothers watching their boys.

The bedroom dresser went first, then the coffee table from the living room, then the china hutch — carried out with real care, four hands under it the whole way — and the living room chairs that went with it. The backyard table and its chairs came off the grass and into the truck bed last, so that by mid-morning the yard looked strangely bare without them. Fred's closet gave up most of what was in it too: the work clothes he wouldn't need where he was going, and the suits he'd worn to church and to dinners out, folded into boxes and carried to the truck alongside the furniture.

Lyle Carringer stood at the center of it all with a small notebook, and nothing left that house or arrived at the Fern Street garage without his knowing it. He had a place for everything before the truck ever pulled away — this along the back wall, that stacked by the workbench — and he wrote it all down as he went, so that six months from now nobody would have to guess where Fred's good shoes had gotten to. Betty caught his eye once across the yard and they shared a look that said the same thing: of course Dad's keeping a list. Of course he is.

The truck made two trips. The men loaded it, drove it the eight miles or so up to Fern Street, unloaded it under Lyle's direction, and came back for the rest. In between, Emily and Georgia had put together a hearty lunch, and the crew ate standing up in the kitchen or leaning against the porch rail, glad of the shade and the cold lemonade.

It was after the second trip, with the truck empty and Marshall ready to head home, that they all came back to Twin Oaks Avenue one more time — not to work now, just to sit. Someone had carried the kitchen chairs out into the back yard under the old tree, and that was where they ended up, all of them, with a plate of ham sandwiches going around and a bowl of apples and a pitcher of lemonade sweating in the heat. Clark, Richard and Randy occupied themselves with whatever babies find interesting on a blanket on in short grass. The talk was easy and unhurried, the kind of talk that comes when a hard job is behind you and there's nothing left to do but enjoy the company. Nobody said much about Saturday. It sat there anyway, the way those things do.

They said their goodbyes as the light went long and gold across the yard — handshakes for the men, a hug from Eleanor and Phyllis, promises to see each other soon, at Fern Street or before Fred left, whichever came first. By the time the last car pulled away, the house felt very quiet.

They put Randy down early that night. He went without much fuss, worn out from a day of being passed between laps and admired by everyone who came through, and once his door was closed the house belonged to just the two of them for the first time all week.

It had been a week of boxes and labels and other people's hands carrying off pieces of their life, and there was something in both of them that wanted, badly, an evening that belonged only to the two of them. Fred drew a bath and lit the stub of a candle he found in the kitchen drawer, more for the gesture than the light, and Betty laughed at him for it and loved him for it in the same breath. They didn't talk about Saturday. They didn't talk much at all. What passed between them that night was slower and quieter than words — unhurried in a way nothing else that week had been, full of the kind of tenderness two people reach for when they both know, without saying so, that they are trying to store something up against the time they won't have each other close. Afterward they lay a long while with the window open to the warm night air, Betty's head on Fred's chest, neither of them in any hurry to let the day end.

Friday, 25 August 1944

Friday began with more boxes, but softer ones this time — not furniture and work clothes, but the things that belonged to a mother and her son. Betty packed her dresses and her good outfits, folding them carefully into the trunk they'd carry to Fern Street, and went through Randy's things — the little shirts and gowns, the blanket he wouldn't sleep without — packing up nearly all of it for the move into her old bedroom, the one that would be hers and Randy's again for however many months this took. Fred carried the boxes out to the car and made the drive up to Fern Street with Betty beside him and Randy in her lap, and between the two of them they had it all unloaded and settled by early afternoon.

Then, for the first time in what felt like weeks, they had nowhere they had to be.

They took the afternoon and gave it to San Diego. Fred drove them past the Naval Training Center up on the bay, slowing the car so they could both look at the long low buildings and the flag flying over them — the place he'd be reporting into, or near enough to it, come Saturday. Neither of them said much as they passed it. Then he turned the car toward the water and they left all of that behind for a while.

They parked near the Bayfront and walked, Randy riding along in his carriage, the bay spread out blue and busy with Navy gray beyond the piers. From there they drove up into Balboa Park and walked El Prado in the late afternoon light, past the fountains and the Spanish facades, Betty pointing out this building or that to Randy as though he understood a word of it, Fred pushing the carriage and pretending to be a full member of the audience. It was the kind of ordinary, unhurried afternoon that neither of them had had in a long time, and they both knew enough to be grateful for it without saying so out loud.

For dinner they went to the Chicken Pie Shop up in North Park, tired in the good way that comes from a day spent walking, and ate at a little table with Randy propped between them, fussing happily over bits of biscuit. It was a plain, satisfying meal, the kind that didn't need to be anything more than what it was — the last dinner out the three of them would have together for a good long while.

Back at the house that evening, Fred put in a call to his mother in Massachusetts. The connection crackled and there was a delay on the line, three thousand miles making itself known, but her voice came through clear enough, and Fred sat with the receiver close to his ear and a smile Betty hadn't seen all week settled onto his face. He told her about Randy, about the move to Fern Street, about Saturday — said it plainly, the way a son tells his mother something he doesn't want her to worry over more than she has to. Whatever she said back to him, it eased something in him. He was quieter and steadier when he hung up the phone.

It was Fred's last night in Chula Vista, at least for a good while, and both of them understood it as exactly that without needing to put a name to it out loud. Once Randy was asleep, the two of them sat a while on the back steps in the dark, listening to the crickets and to nothing in particular, and then went in.

What followed was unhurried and full — an evening neither of them wanted to rush toward its end, the two of them holding each other close long after there was any reason left to stay awake, as though by staying wrapped together they could hold Saturday morning a little further off. There was laughter in it too, low and easy, the kind that comes from two people who know each other completely. When at last they did sleep, it was tangled together, Betty's hand resting over Fred's heart, as if she meant to keep time with it through whatever came next.

Outside, the night went on being ordinary — crickets, a dog barking somewhere down the street, the faint salt smell of the bay on the air — with no sign at all that in the morning, everything would be different.


To be continued...

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Here is the Google NotebookLM Video Overview about this time in Betty, Fred and Randy's life in August 1944 (also on my YouTube channel):  

This story is historical fiction based on real people -- my parents and me -- and a real event in a real place. I don't know the full story of these events -- but this is how it might have been. I hope that it was at least this good! Claude is such a good storywriter! I added some details and corrected some errors in Claude's initial version.

Stay tuned for the next chapter in this family story.

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The AI-assisted ABC Biography of my mother, Betty Virginia (Carringer) Seaver, is in ABC Biography of #3 Betty Virginia (Carringer) Seaver (1919-2002) of San Diego, California. I also  wrote Betty's Story: The First-Year Art Teacher about the start of her teaching career.

The AI-assisted ABC Biography of my father, Frederick Walton Seaver, is in ABC Biography of #2 Frederick Walton Seaver Jr. (1911-1983) of Massachusetts and San Diego, California.  I also wrote Fred's Story: The Three-Day Cross-Country Escape  and Fred's Story: "I Need A Girl" about him coming to San Diego, and wanting a girlfriend.

Here are the previous chapters in this story:

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Links to my blog posts about using Artificial Intelligence are on my Randy's AI and Genealogy page. Links to AI information and articles about Artificial Intelligence in Genealogy by other genealogists are on my AI and Genealogy Compendium page.

Copyright (c) 2026, Randall J. Seaver


Please comment on this post on the website by clicking the URL above and then the "Comments" link at the bottom of each post.  Share it on Twitter, Facebook, or Pinterest using the icons below.  Or contact me by email at randy.seaver@gmail.com.  Please note that all comments are moderated, and may not appear immediately.

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