The “memoir/cookbook” has been become a popular bestselling genre in recent years. From Pioneer Woman to Smitten Kitchen, food bloggers and celebrity chefs everywhere have cashed in on the blending of food and stories. 
Your don’t have to be a famous chef or internet sensation to create a life story cookbook. All you need is a few favorite family stories and a love of food, and a desire to preserve and share your recipes—and stories—with family and friends. 

But it also made me think: what will happen to my lost relatives? I have a box of unidentified ancestral photos, people I know are related to me, but in what way? They led full, interesting lives. Yet in a few short generations, nobody remembers who they are, what they did, what they lost, or who they loved. I crave knowledge of them, but because their stories weren't documented, I may never know.

This week's webinar is the eighth and final one in the “How to Save Your Life, One Chapter at a Time” series: “Putting Your Book Together.” Now that you’ve written your stories and gathered your pictures, we will show you some options for turning them into a beautiful hardbound book. 

What is essential?

How do we tell the gold from the dross? How do we decide what to let go of? And what should we do with the stuff that is important enough to keep, so that it can be enjoyed and cherished by the whole family?

News flash: I have way too much stuff.

Our nest recently emptied, Tom and I live in a house that is now too big for us, filled with way more stuff than we need or have time to maintain. Recently, we have been longing for less, and have been considering our options. What in our lives is worth keeping as we slide into our "golden" years? What can we gleefully chuck into the dumpster with nary a second thought? These questions apply not just to stuff, but to all aspects of our lives: tasks, responsibilities, thought patterns, prejudices, relationships...

What does this have to do with family history, you ask? I promise to come back around to the relevant subject, if you, dear reader, can forgive a few personal musings along the way.