Hello all! Hope you had a great weekend. All is well on this end except the weekend went by way to quickly. There isn’t much I hate more than that 5 am wake up call on a Monday morning. Saturday was spent running some errands, getting a few things done around the house and hanging out with friends that night. I had a very laid back but fun Sunday hanging out with family at my parents house. It never fails, I always leave with sore abs from laughing so hard.
As we’ve been considering names for Peanut we’ve been asking about family names so we can add them to the list of possibilities. My Dad brought out some family history that he’s been working with lately and I was excited to see some names from his side of the family are already on our list. He had a bunch of other tidbits that were fun to look through and learn a little bit more about where we came from. We already knew this, but the picture below is a family monument that is location at Prospect Hill in Omaha. John Paulsen was born in Germany, owned a dairy that was located on the land where Westlawn Cemetery is and was a State Senator. I find that pretty exciting.
We have also heard stories about the bar our Great Grandfather owned (some stories even say it was an underground bar during the Prohibition…how scandalous!) and the bulldog that guarded the door from strangers. I was excited that some of the information that my Dad had was about this bar and I was able to read a bit more about it yesterday. Not only was it located a few blocks from where we bought our house, it was called Concordia Park and the infamous dog we’ve been hearing about for years was, in fact, an English Bulldog with two black eyes named Pat. Here is a poem that was written prior to 1918 by Miles Greenleaf who was a writer for the Omaha World Herald.
There be a dog, his name is Pat-
and mostly he is white
‘Tho both his eyes are always black
He never lost a fight.
He is a blythe and merry soul
and singeth like a lark
and folk, to hear him, come for miles
to old Concordy Park.
He be a bull of high degree,
A Rootin’, Tootin’ scout!
He hangs around the kitchen stove
‘Till William put him out.
Now William is the Pirate King
So famed in prose and verse,
And Mr. Paulsen is his name
‘Tho some folks call him worse.
This Patrick pup is on the job
As watchdog all the time-
The way he serves the Pirate King
Is something quite sublime.
One eve the Boss instructed him so well
That now he’s in disgrace,
For lo, his master overslept
And none got in his place!
The Pirate King, he took a slant
Upon the damper coy,
And not a nickel was within
Oh, Great was his annoy.
“We close the place at eight o’clock
And open up at seven,
And not a cent was taken in
And here it’s half past ‘leven.”
“I’m sorry sir,” the barkeep said,
“The customers are sore.
They tried to get in early, but
Yon Patrick held the door!”
“Now, ding that dog!” quoth William P.
And tried to cuss in rhyme.
“Although you are a watchdog, Pat,
I find you can’t keep time!”
Love this! Pretty awesome, in my opinion, but I’m kind of a geek about this kind of stuff though. What about you, do you have any interesting family history facts?