My oldest daughter has been in Israel all week.  I am excited for her to get to go there , but have been on pins and needles all week--she will be home next Wed.   I know she is having a wonderful time.   I found this poem while I was looking thru some genealogy stuff, thought you guys might enjoy it.  It is kinda long, so may have to do it in more than one part.      GRANDMA CLIMBED THE FAMILY TREE         There's been a change in Grandma. We've noticed as of late,she's always reading history or jotting down some date.  She's tracing back the family.  We'll all have pedigrees.  Grandma's got a hobby, she's CLIMBING THE FAMILY TREES.  Poor Grandpa does the cooking, and now, or so he states  he even has to wash the cups and dinner plates.  Well Grandma can't be bothered, she's busy as a bee, compiling genealogy for THE FAMILY TREE.  She has no time to baby-sit, the curtains are a fright; no buttons left on Grandpa's shirts; the flower bed's a sight.  She's given up her club work, the serials on TV, the only thing she does nowadays is CLIMB THAT FAMILY TREE.  The mail is all for Grandma, it comes from near and far.  Last week  she got the proof she needs to join the DAR.  A monumental project--to that we all agree, a worthwhile avocation-TO CLIMB THE FAMILY TREE.   She wanders through the graveyard in search of date and name.  The rich, the poor, the in-between, all sleeping there the same.    She pauses now and then to rest, fanned by a gentle breeze, that blows above the FATHERS OF ALL OUR FAMILY TREES. Now some folks came from Scotland, some from Galway Bay, some were French as Pastry, some German all the way.  Some went on west to stake their claims, some stayed there by the sea.  Grandma hopes to find them as she CLIMBS THE FAMILY TREE.                       (  next part follows.)   Glenna Goodwin