I bought some corn on the cob yesterday. While I was cooking it tonight, I remembered that my father had a strange way of eating corn. He had dentures and couldn't sink his teeth into the kernels on the cob. So, would stand the cob up on his plate and slice the kernels off with a paring knife and then eat them using his fork.
Each time I have one of these memories, I think I should write them down. Then I get busy and forget until the next time.
This time, I've started a word doc and saved it in my Dropbox folder. That way, I can add to it whenever I want. Soon, I'll have enough to write a chapter in my family's history.
To me, genealogy is more than names and dates. The "corn on the cob" stories add flesh to the bones and make the genealogy more interesting to read.