It warmed up enough Wednesday to pop the hoods on the hives so we could check the food levels. All seven colonies had at least a reasonable number of bees, though the amount of sugar that had been eaten varied.
I took pictures of each and decided to compare them against the ones I took last month. The results are mixed.
Hive #2: Population increased, and once again they had gone through the backup sugar. I rate this one a 4 out of 5.
Hive #2A: Fewer bees, but still a reasonable population under the sugar. They get a 3. (Number 2A indicates this was a split from 2 last year.)
Hive #3: More bees eating more sugar. 3 out of 5.
Hive #4: About the same amount of bees eating more sugar. 3 out 5.
Hive #5: Picture on left is January; other two were this week (bottom of inner cover and top of frames). Population remains strong, and they are going through the sugar. Graded 4.5. This one will need to be split early.
Hive #6S: Again, the left picture is January, the other two are inner cover and top of frames taken this week. This hive is booming, eating voraciously, and will need to be split early. 5 of 5. (Number 6S indicates this was a swarm from last year’s #6.)
LoLa Hive: Top left is January picture; the rest were from Wednesday. Population has declined, and there were again many bees dead from dampness. We removed all the dead bees and everything damp and took off the plastic piece we’d put in to keep them from chewing the foam insulation. It is clearly doing more harm than good. We remain cautiously optimistic because there are still at least as many bees as come in a package. Grade is maybe 2.75-3.
We saw a few bees bringing in pollen of various colors frrom greyish-yellow to yellow to bright orange. Where do they find it?
All hives got more sugar, SuperDFM probiotics, and a small amount of pollen substitute. We decided to add pollen to the mix after talking to a beekeeping acquaintance at our club meeting. The queens will be laying by now, and there is little pollen (needed to raise brood) available for foraging. The concern with adding pollen is if you add too much too soon, it may encourage them to increase the amount of brood before the hive has the resources and bees to support this.
We decided to add just a little to the sugar we were feeding to support the brood that is already being raised.
Today there’s been a little cold snap, but it’s forecast to warm up again at the start of the week. We plan to use the opportunity for an Oxalic Acid treatment to knock down any mite load the hives might be carrying.
March is the when most hives fail. The queens start to lay again sometime after the winter solstice, and sometimes a hive’s food supplies aren’t enough to support the number of mouths it has to feed. As a result, they may starve. Alternatively, if the winter bees begin to die off before there is brood to replace them, there may not be enough bees to do the work necessary to get through to spring.
Thus, we wil keep a close eye on food and population levels and continue to supplement as needed until spring has truly arrived, and they are able to find enough food to support the hive.
Eventually, it will warm up enough to do a full inspection, and we may steal brood from the stronger colonies to add to the ones that are smaller. We’ll also make more definite plans on which to split and when to do so.
You probably know this already, but Port wine comes from Portugal. More specifically, the wine is made in the Douro River Valley, then transported to Gaia (officially Vila Nova de Gaia), across the river from Porto, to age in the many cellars (also called lodges) located there.
The barrels used to be moved downriver by boat, but evidently the producers lost a lot of wine that way, plus it took a while, so now it arrives by truck — less romantic, but more efficient.
It’s also interesting to note that the industry was established by the English, and for a long time, most of the cellars were owned by British companies. Thus, many of the lodges still bear names that are distinctly non-Portuguese — Churchill’s, Graham’s, Cockburn’s, and Taylor’s to name a few.
Anyway, if you do happen to be in Porto, visiting a Port lodge (or many) is the thing to do, and on our last day in Portugal, we headed downhill and across the river to do just that.
Side street mural
First we tried Sandeman but were told somewhat brusquely by a security guard that they were closing for lunch until later that day. Then he firmly shut the gate in our face. We reckoned the closing for lunch thing was an industry standard, but strolled back up to Calem just to make sure.
Happy surprise! They were open, and the next tour was in forty minutes. We immediately registered and paid, then retired to the restaurant next door for a drink.
Thirty-five minutes later, we were in the Calem museum waiting for our tour to begin.
I’m not going to try to explain how Port is made; I couldn’t even if I tried. But we enjoyed both the tour and the tasting afterwards.
I was also gratified to learn that 1961 was not just a good year for me (being born and all), it was an outstanding year for Port!
My brief fantasy of buying one crashed with the sad realization that such an expense would be wasted. We probably wouldn’t know the difference between that year and any other.
Our tasting featured the white and dry, the 2018 single vintage (not a blend), and the 10 year tawny. I did not like the white at all, though of course, I drank it — it was alcohol, and we’d paid for it after all. The single vintage was quite tasty, but we both liked the 10 year tawny best, so in lieu of the ’61, that’s what we brought home. 🙂
Afterwards, we decided it would be a good idea to have some food to balance out all the alcohol, and we went back next door.
I’m sharing the menu because I loved the “Tiny Hot Dog” and “Aunt Helena’s Stewed Gizzards” options. Also, I’m not sure what a veal cheek is, and don’t all eggs have to be broken in order to cook them?
We stuck with the familiar — The Engineer had Chorizo with Bread and Cheese, and I had Stuffed Bread with Four Cheeses, Bell Peppers, Olives, etc. It was — and I never thought I’d say these words — almost too cheesy, although very flavorful.
Thus fortified, we made our way back to the hotel, pausing to take the occasional photo.
Tiled church with icon – GaiaView of Calem Cellar from across the riverIgreja de Santo IldefonsoThese dogs appeared to be waiting with varying degrees of patience for their master(s?) to return.I liked the juxtaposition of the old (the fountain) and the new (graffiti and scooters).Teatro Nacional S Joao — Note the incredible detailing on the stone work. Details of Sao Bento Train Station MuralsWe saw these stores everywhere with their cows, which they park in the doorway or wheel just outside. It was raining again, so this one got an umbrella. Interestingly, despite the name, the shops had nothing to do with ale or hops. Instead they sold woolly hats and other accessories. The aptly named Majestic Cafe — we didn’t eat here, only admired its facade.
We left Portugal the next morning, arriving back in Cleveland about twenty-four hours later. It was snowing heavily, but even without my jacket, I stayed warm under several sweaters, a heavy shirt, and my hat and gloves.
The roads were treacherous from the slush and snow, but at that time of night, there was very little traffic, and we arrived home safely.
Thank you for going on a vicarious trip to Portugal with my posts. I hope that you will seize the opportunity with both hands if you ever get the chance to visit there.
Actually, before we get to the Algarve, here are two photos of boats in Lisbon harbor. There was also a big cruise ship, which The Engineer found interesting, having worked on the QE2. But I like the masted boats better, so that’s what I took pictures of.
And now, on to the Algarve!
The train from Porto to Lisbon had been an Alpha-Pendular. From Lisbon to Faro we took an Intercidade, which is slower, slightly cheaper, slightly less comfortable, and makes more stops. It was fine, although stepping down off of it with a suitcase and backpack took some care and agility.
This accomplished, we flagged a taxi to take us to Faro Airport to pick up our rental car, and then drove toward Albufeira.
Albufeira is both a town and an area, and our AirBnB was in the region, rather than the city — near a beach called Praia da Falesia (“praia” means beach in Portuguese). Later, we had cause to go into the actual town of Albufeira, and I was extremely grateful we weren’t staying there. It’s a sprawling, unattractive mess — a combination of old village and new holiday destination, without any of the charm of the former or convenience of the latter.
Our home for the week was an apartment in a building across from a large, completely deserted resort. There were no crowds, few people, and really not much of a town either. Perfect for a week of relaxation!
Deserted restaurant in a ghost town resort
It took us a while to find the place because for one reason or another, the directions didn’t completely download. In addition, the numbers to the apartments were on the back of the building, making it difficult to ascertain which was the right one.
Eventually we found it and were pleased to discover its reality matched the AirBnB description, with everything we needed for our stay. We unpacked, went out to find some dinner, and settled into our warm apartment, listening to the drumming rain and howling gale outside. As well as wind and rain, the forecast also included something called a “coastal event,” but didn’t explain what such an event might entail.
Sometime the next day, the weather calmed enough for us to don our rain jackets and take a damp, breezy walk on the beach. It was the type of weather, the Brits like to call “fresh.”
Agarve beaches are incredibly beautiful, even in the rain, surrounded by orange cliffs, with soft yellow-orange sand. Photos don’t do justice to the landscape.
We got up early the next day because we had Big Plans. You see, The Engineer has been to Gibraltar twice — once on the QE2 and once with Darling Daughter and I — and both times was unable to ride the cable car up the rock.
This trip, he was going to finally be able to do it. We checked and double-checked the attraction’s open hours, planning to be there in plenty of time for him to ride on the day we arrived. Then the next day, we would get up early, drive over to Tarifa, take the ferry to Tangier for lunch, and then return to Europe and drive back to our apartment.
Unfortunately, the weather was still bad, making our drive a horrible one, and it was clear the cable cars wouldn’t be running that day, though the sky was beginning to clear.
View of Gibraltar from our hotel — It really is quite a big rock!
Pushing aside the Tangier plan, we pinned our hopes on the next day for the cable car ride. Alas, it was not to be; the winds were still too high.
Still, Gibraltar is an strange interesting place, like a piece of England set down on the edge of Spain. This meant we could to buy some proper Cadbury bars and enjoy a fish and chip supper.
Also, there’s no taxes on anything you purchase, which meant just about every other shop on the high street was a jewelers, along with many purveyors of alcohol and designer sunglasses.
The area is/was of great strategic importance, and there is evidence everywhere of the fortifications required to hold it.
And — don’t ask me why — but there were chickens wandering around on the sidewalk below the area we were walking.
Thankfully, the weather improved for the drive back to Portugal, with beautiful cloud formations on the horizon.
We even saw a double rainbow!
The rain and wind wasn’t through with us however, and the next day we had another windy walk on the beach, followed by watching a Premier League game in a pub, and another (delicious) Indian meal.
The day after that was supposed to be pleasant, so we decided to drive to Praia da Rocha. This is a place we visited frequently in the past, sometimes meeting The Engineer’s parents for a holiday together.
The town looked very different from how we remembered it, with many more hotels, shops, and restaurants. And yet, it remained pleasant (although I wouldn’t want to be there in the summer high season). Clearly, unlike Albufeira, there was some planning involved in how Praia da Rocha was developed.
We found the Bacchus bar we had had frequented (it used to have a parrot), and the little restaurant where we ate dinner almost every night. Back then, there was a litter of kittens that lived there, and Darling Daughter loved to play with them as they skidded around the dining room under the tables. (And yes, I know you are probably wondering about the hygiene of a place with kittens on the premises, but I can assure you it was immaculately clean.)
The main road has been pedestrianized, and the beach boardwalk extended, making for pleasant strolls through town or along the water.
The Engineer was pleased because you can still get a full English breakfast, but I had fresh squeezed orange juice, French toast, and a caramel macchiato.
There are orange trees all over the Algarve, so delicious fresh orange juice is readily available.
Later we enjoyed a drink while sitting in the sun, looking out over the ocean, before heading back to Praia da Falesia via Porches Pottery.
This was another place we’d been to before, and I wanted to find a few small souvenirs — things that wouldn’t overly weigh down my luggage. As I paid for my items, the salesman must have noticed I was still sniffling and coughing beause he gave me a paper towel, instructing me to fold it. Then he poured on some eucalyptus oil, telling me to sniff it, but not to hold it too close to my nose because that would be unpleasant. What a kind gesture!
On our last day in the Algarve, we headed back to Faro to verify the opening time of the car rental agency, to check to make sure we could easily get a taxi to the train station to catch our train, and to buy our train tickets.
This accomplished, we planned to visit Cerro da Vila museum to see the Roman ruins. We got there earlier than expected, and they were still closed for lunch, so we took ourselves off to do the same. When we returned, we discovered they were closed not for lunch but for the day, probably because it was Shrove Tuesday.
Another disappointment, but never fear, we will add it to our plans for the next trip to Portugal!
We spent the next day on the train, where I alternated between reading and looking at the scenery.
We passed acres and acres of orange and cork trees, and I apologize for not thinking to take a picture of the cork trees before we were out of the part of the area where they grow. The trees are easy to pick out because cork is harvested by girdling the trees to remove the inner layer of the bark. This leaves a discernable bark-free strip.
From what I understand, cork can only be harvested from a tree every nine years. It takes twenty-five years before it can be harvested at all, and the quality of the first two harvests isn’t good enough to be used for wine bottle stoppers.
Cork does have many other uses, however, many of them on display in Portuguese markets — handbags, purses, wallets especially. Lightweight and waterproof, the material is also used in yoga mats and shoes. Because the crop is also great for sound and heat insulation, it has become a popular building material. It seems it’s the ultimate sustainable crop, with trees living for hundreds of years. If you want to know more, click through a few of the links I’ve shared.
We passed through village after village, town after town, and even the smallest had a train station. I don’t know if they were all still in use; we didn’t stop at every one, but remember we were traveling on an Intercidades. There are three more rail travel tiers below this level, which cover shorter distances, so I would guess the more basic trains run at least a few times a week to the smaller stations.
As we traveled, it became clear that the train we were on was running about fifteen minutes late. We were sure we would miss our connection in Lisbon and resigned ourselves to having to take the later train to Porto, arriving there at nine instead of three.
It was a nice surprise then to get to Lisbon and discover our train to Porto wasn’t there yet. It pulled in a few minutes later (a nice Alpha-Pendular), and we were soon on our way back to Porto.
I’ll leave you there for now, with the last installment yet to come. Thanks for reading!
Our train reached Lisbon (Lisboa) in the afternoon and we repeated the process of finding the right Metro to get to our hotel. By the time we settled in, we were ready for dinner and found an Indian Thali restaurant nearby. Honestly, it didn’t look like much — a narrow doorway off a dark street, then down some steps to an equally narrow dining room. Also it was cold in the restaurant because the weather had turned.
When our meal arrived — served on what looked like a metal cafeteria tray — it was delicious, with just the right amount of food. But as we left the restaurant, we realized it was right next door to a much more elegant Indian establishment, a fact we noted for a possible future meal.
The next day, I woke up coughing, and The Engineer was achy and stuffy. Yes, we both had colds — no doubt caught on public transport — which meant neither of us was at our best.
We persevered, however, walking down to the harbor, and the famed Praça do Comércio. Although Lisbon is an old city, this square, and many other buildings, were built to replace the many that crumbled during the 1755 earthquake and the tsunami and fires that followed.
An artist was making sand animals near the harbor.
We stopped at the “Beer Museum” to plan our next move. “Museum” was a bit of an overstatement — the place was basically a restaurant, but I liked the glass my beer came in.
In the end, since neither of us was feeling energetic, we decided to follow the advice of the guidebooks and ride Tram #28.
On the way to the tram stop, we passed steep stairs I knew I was incapable of climbing, (at least while I was sick). There are funiculars in some areas, which must help (though we didn’t have the opportunity to ride one). Still, I think if you live in the old Lisbon neighborhoods, you would end up very fit!
We also passed a pedestrian crossing with this sticker. If only it were that easy, eh?
Tram 28 traverses steep hills, through tight passages, and around corners, going through many scenic areas of the city. One of the most memorable is Alfama, the city’s oldest neighborhood, which survived the earthquake that left most of the city in rubble.
The problem with Tram 28 is most tourists read the same guidebooks I had, and they all want to ride. Some forums offer alternatives, and if you visit Lisbon in summer, you might want to consider them.
We thought we’d be okay. It was February, after all, hardly the height of the tourist season. We were wrong. If you follow this link, you’ll see a picture of what the line looked like.
Our wait paid off, however, because after five or six trams filled and went out, we ended up at the front of the line for the next one. This meant we got seats!
We clattered down narrow thoroughfares, with buildings just inches from our window. The photo below shows how closely trams pass on the route. This picture was taken out our window, through the other tram, to the seats on the opposite side. (Note: I don’t normally take photos of people I don’t know, and I certainly don’t normally share them, so I’ve tried to make the pair unidentifiable.)
City Roofscape from Tram 28
By the time we returned to our hotel, we were both exhausted and unwilling to walk far for dinner. We decided on a pizza place that Google maps said was right around the corner. It wasn’t. Although Google kept telling us we’d reached our destination, we never did find it and ended up going into the posh Indian restaurant for appetizers. They were nowhere near as good as the meal we’d had the night before. Guess appearances can be deceiving!
On Tuesdays, the Feira da Ladra market is held, and as a fan of thrift and charity shops, garage and boot sales, and flea markets, I welcomed the opportunity to search for treasure among the trash of a different country.
Alas, I found no treasure. To be fair, there were some lovely old tiles, which I was reluctant to purchase, in part because of the weight, but also because there’s no way of knowing their provenance. Apparently, stealing azulejos is quite a profitable criminal enterprise, and I didn’t want to inadvertently become a part of supporting such activity.
In the end, I bought a cork change purse — touristy, I know, but it was pretty, and my old one was falling apart.
Someone was also selling the largest pipe wrench I’ve ever seen.
We spent the rest of the day wandering the city, then took the Metro to the train station to buy our tickets to Faro the next day.
And there, dear reader, is where I will leave you until my next post.
Returning from a long trip is always a bit disorienting, a bit like re-entering the atmosphere of normal life, and arriving home from Portugal during a snowstorm in the wee hours of Saturday morning was no exception.
It was a good trip, mostly free from any major issues, although this was at least the third trip that Delta repeatedly changed our itinerary, all of which resulted in my spending hours online and on the phone to get the plans readjusted into a workable trip. For this one, they changed the second leg of our journey so we would have had only fifty minutes to arrive in Amsterdam, clear customs and immigration, and find and board our next flight. In the end, we did get the schedule re-worked, and the customer service rep even ended up bumping us to business class for our flight from New York to Amsterdam.
Business Class: I could get used to this kind of travel!
We’ve been traveling with Delta mostly because they codeshare with AirFrance and KLM, and we’ve always had good experiences flying with those airlines. And although KLM did manage to delay The Engineer’s luggage from Amsterdam to Porto so it arrived the morning after we did, this still holds true. Unfortunately, although the airlines codeshare, the interaction between their computer systems is, shall we say, less than seamless. As a result, the customer ends up having to work with two different systems to select seats and two customer service departments to address the issues that arise when Delta makes one of its many itinerary changes. We’ve concluded it’s time to try another airline group.
I share these details because doing so might result in other travelers being saved the time and frustration I’ve experienced. As always, feel free to ignore me.
We left Cleveland the evening before my birthday and arrived in Porto the next afternoon. Before we disembarked from our last flight, the KLM flight attendant gave me a split of sparkling Cava wine to help us celebrate. I’d fallen asleep during the flight, and she didn’t want to wake me to give it to me earlier. It’s thoughtful gestures like this that make us like the Dutch airline so much.
By that time, I had discovered that I’d left my jacket on the plane from New York to Amsterdam, meaning when we arrived back in Cleveland, I would have to layer many of the sweaters I’d packed for our drive home. But that was a worry for another day.
When we realized The Engineer’s bag was not going to come out on the baggage carousel, we went to wait in line to file the necessary paperwork to get it back before finally making our way to the Porto Metro. There, we figured out the right line to our hotel, bought tickets, dragged my suitcase up and down the multiple steps and escalators to the platform, and boarded the train.
In times like those, I am especially grateful I married someone with a sense of direction. I have none, and although I can (and have) found my way around strange cities, it always involves a lot more wrong turns than when I travel with my husband.
Coming out of the Metro station, The Engineer guided our steps to the hotel, our home for the next few nights.
The tile roofs of Porto as seen from our hotel room.
We found a meal somewhere and collapsed into bed.
After arising the next morning, we went down for breakfast and discovered the mislaid suitcase had arrived!
We ate breakfast and departed the hotel, eager to explore Porto, especially the Museu do Carro Eléctrico — the Tram Museum. As we wandered the streets, we passed through the Ribeira (as the riverside area is known), and by a beautiful old tiled church.
Portugal is known for its beautiful tiles, known as azulejos. Often, but not always, in shades of blue and white, these small squares may be used to create beautiful murals or simply to decorate the front of a building. Sadly, it’s not uncommon to pass a building on the verge of falling down, its once beautiful tilework cracked and broken, but this cannot detract from the many times when we turned a corner to find a sight similar to the church in the picture above.
I should also probably mention that both Porto and Lisbon are built on hills. So if you plan to visit either, assume you’ll be doing a lot of walking, much of it up hills or steps, to reach your destinations. We walked between five and seven miles every day except a few when we were on trains all day. Wear comfortable shoes!
Someone had yarnbombed this tree outside the tram museum, adding an unexpected festive touch to its exterior. The museum itself, although small, was well worth the walk.
From the museum, we rode a tram back to the Ribeira and had lunch, chatting with our waiter. He was interested to discover we were from the US because he had lived in Florida for several years. The Engineer asked him how many languages he spoke.
“Ten,” he replied, and then proceeded to list them. I can’t remember all of them, but they included Portuguese, English, French, and Spanish (which he said were taught to all the kids in school), German, Russian, and Mandarin (although he did say he wasn’t as fluent as he’d like to be in Mandarin).
In our past visits to Portugal, I’ve noticed how common it is for the Portuguese to speak English, and this holds true, at least in the cities and tourist areas we visited. In fact, a few times I felt like I had insulted people when I asked if they spoke English, but it seems unfair to assume they should speak my language when I am visiting their country.
I always try to learn at least a few basic phrases when we visit a country where another language is spoken, and people seem to appreciate it. But honestly, such an effort seems paltry compared to the many people we encountered who had the skill to converse in English, and possibly several other languages, as well as their own.
After bidding our multi-lingual waiter goodbye, we decided to take one of the “Six Bridges” boat tours, although I seem to have only taken pictures of two of the bridges. 🙂 It was a touristy, but pleasant, way to spend the afternoon.
Later, we walked back to our hotel (via more than 200 steep steps) and happened through Sao Bento Station, location of some of Porto’s most famous azulejo murals. The photo below is a panorama, which makes the hall look somewhat round. Still, you get the idea!
We also passed this church near our hotel, and I finally took a picture. It’s the Capela das Almas, and you can read about it and some of Porto’s other beautiful tiles here.
The next day we initially planned to visit one of the port cellars (also called port lodges), but the weather was forecast to be some of the best for our time in Portugal, so we took take a tram to the beach instead. As we packed into the car with the rest of the tourists, this guy hopped on the outside and rode for free.
Along the way, we spotted this house, which was being rebuilt behind its historic facade, something we have seen in other European countries as well. The Engineer particularly liked the juxtaposition of the historic tiles and the modern street art.
It was near the house pictured below, which had some similarly unusual tilework.
We followed the day’s excursion with a Metro trip to Campanha Station. Larger than Sao Bento, this station serves as the main one for the city, and there we bought our tickets for the the following day’s train to Lisbon. And that’s where my next post will begin.
This week’s prompt for the “52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks” is “Earning a Living,” so I thought I’d take a look at the list of my ancestors’ occupations, handily indexed by my genealogy program. This is not an inclusive list because when I use the program, I need to add occupations when the program doesn’t recognize them, and sometimes I haven’t bothered. I am making a resolution to correct this as I research in the future.
Most the jobs will be familiar to you. I’ll define the rest.
Blacksmith: I have six in my tree, born between 1775 and 1876.
Block operator on the railroad:Merriam-Webster says this is “a railroad worker who operates block signals manually. Ah, but what is a “block signal?” The same source tells us it is “a fixed signal at the entrance of a block to govern railroad trains entering and using that block.” In my tree, I have one, Bessie F. Sholly, who was a cousin, perhaps once removed, of my grandmother.
Boatman: Bessie F’s father.
Bookeeper: Two cousins of some sort, Frederick H. Garman and Eva Evelyn Sholly.
Butcher: Another cousin, John Perry Keplar.
Cabinet Maker: James Armstrong, my 3x great grandfather (father of Montcalm) and David Musser, who married Mary Eleanor Armstrong, one of James’ daughters.
Carpenter: My tree holds twelve including James (above); Montacalm, my 2x great grandfather; and John H. Kreighbaum, another 2x great grandfather.
Carrier (postal): Charles Foster Harrison, the son of my 2x great grandmother (Montcalm’s second wife), so some sort of distant half-uncle. He must have described himself as a mail carrier in the census, which is why he is listed this way, rather than postman
Clerk: Helen Leitner a distant cousin and Helen Armstrong Byrd Deuring, my mom.
Cooper: A barrel maker. I have two, Elisha Summers, my 3x great grandfather, and Morgan Morgan Swisher, also my 3x great grandfather.
Laborer: Again, too many to list. Those who didn’t farm, labored.
Machinist: There are four, all uncles of some sort.
Maid: My great-aunt LaCelle Lang, who married for the first time in her 60s.
Manufacturer (of books and shoes): Second husband of the third wife of one of my 3x great grandfathers.
Marble setter: Applies hard tile, stone, and comparable materials to walls, floors, ceilings, countertops, and roof decks. An extremely distant cousin.
Mechanic: One, married to someone on my maternal grandmother’s side.
Miller: My 3x great grandfather, Samuel Davidson or Davisson.
Miner: Amazingly for a tree based half in West Virginia, there are only two I know of, both distant uncles.
NIght watchman:A distant cousin.
Nurse: My great aunt, Fay Dorrette, who died at 24 of tuberculosis.
Office Worker: I have only one listed, though I know there are more. But, she is the daughter of my great grandfather (aka the Love Rat).
Operator: Multitilth: “Operates one or more of a variety of office machines, such as photocopying, photographic, and duplicating machines, or other office machines,” — my Uncle Lloyd Armstrong; machine — a distant uncle; and machine operator in an auto factory — another distant uncle.
Photographer: Another distant cousin.
Plasterer: A distant uncle back in the 1800s.
Postman: My great grandfather Thomas Jefferson Lang, who rode a mule on an early RFD route and a great uncle, my grandmother’s brother Guy Sholley.
Railroad worker: Three of them, a mix distant uncles.
Restaurant Manager: A single female cousin, born in 1860 and died in 1943.
Rubber worker: My dad, and most of my uncles on my mom’s side at one point or another.
Salesman: My grandfather at one point, and three others all on my mom’s side.
Salesperson: One female cousin, also on my mother’s side.
School teacher/teacher: Six of them, including my grandma on my dad’s side, who taught in a one-room schoolhouse.
Telephone man: One distant cousin on my mom’s side.
Timber cutter: A distant uncle and a distant cousin.
Truck driver: Two uncles, one distant, and one great uncle.
Viewer (fence): From Wikipedia: “A town or city official who administers fence laws by inspecting new fences and settles disputes arising from trespass by livestock that had escaped enclosure.The office of fence viewer is one of the oldest appointments in New England. The office emigrated along with New England pioneers to the Midwest as well, where the office still exists.” A many times great grandfather, Frederick Albright/Albrecht.
Waitress: At least two, one of my black sheep uncle’s wives and myself.
Warper: From ThougtCo: a textile worker who arranged the individual yarns which created the “warp” of the fabric upon a large cylinder called a beam. There were two, sisters who worked in a silk mill in Pennsylvania, distant cousins.
The Byrd and the Bees 