Here is a poem that I just couldn't resist sending. It fits right in with genealogy and history. Ann In Spite Of All Her Faults I hail from Old Kentucky, The State of Bluegrass fame, I love her rolling meadows, Her quaint, historic name. Along her winding byways, No hostile steps resound; Our fathers made it sacred, This dark and bloody ground. I hail it as a treasure, The State that gave me birth; It is beyond all measure, The fairest spot on earth. And when my weary spirit If wafted home to God; I ask but that my body Rest 'neath its Bluegrass sod. Then give me Old Kentucky, The State that I love best, Yes, give me Old Kentucky, The world may have the rest. Author unknown