Have you ever wondered where in this world that you have come from? I have asked myself repeatedly why I am attracted to the things that I am. Great Britain has always fascinated me. From the time I was a young teenager, I have loved a place that I have never visited. The plush countryside with winding narrow roads, picturesque seaside jaunts, with castles galore intrigued me. I spent hours reading Dickens & Jane Austen, watching Masterpiece Theater, and trying to imitate an accent that just didn't sound right coming from my lips.
Each day since I mailed my DNA sample to Ancestry, I have waited in bated anticipation for the results. From my youth there were rumors on both sides of the family that we have Native American blood running through our veins. There is nothing in my appearance nor of my forebears to indicate that no Indian has ever got themselves mixed up with us. My pale skin and green eyes are ever before me as an indicator. Jesse James has come up a few times, but who wants to be related to a murdering outlaw? I wouldn't be proud of it and I'd never speak of it if the rumor was true.
Thursday was the magical day. I came home very late and checked my email. The results were in and were waiting for me to open like a gift in my inbox. With anxious fingers I clicked the link to open the email. To be honest, I was surprised by the mix. I am 40% West Europe, 37% Great Britain, 13% Iberian Peninsula and the rest is a mixture of Ireland, Greece, Italy, Finland, and NW Russia.
So, I should have asked Santa for a Viking or a man in a kilt instead of a cowboy. Meanwhile, the search goes on for finding my link to across the pond. I am so close.
