7/12/09

 One of our neighbors is very ill w/swine flu and her baby had to be delivered by C section last Tuesday after Katie "coded." Katie has been kept in a medically-induced coma for almost 2 weeks so her body can concentrate on getting well. 

But thinking of her 2# 11 oz. baby, who is doing very well, reminded me that Victor Stobie, Grandma French's brother, weighed apporximately 3# when he was born. Of course that was long before modern hospital neo-natal units with incubators, climate control, respirators, specialists of every type you might want, so he was kept in either a shoebox or cigar box, lined with cotton batting, kept very close to the cookstove. Having been the mother of 6 healthy, normal-to-large babies, born in hospitals, I can't imagine the worry that a tiny, probably premature, baby would have caused Great-Grandma and Great-Grandpa Stobie.

Thinking of that made me think of my own birth--I don't remember but have heard stories. My mother carried me for nearly 11 months. Of course, everyone thought she had her dates mixed up, but when I was born, instead of being a rosy, healthy pink, I was gray and my eyes were little slits. The doctor told her that had I waited one more week to make my debut, I would have been stillborn. Of course that was back befoe there were ways to induce a birth. At the time we lived in North Bend and when Mother (Grandma Jeanne) went in to labor, there was not time to get her to the nearest hospital, which was in Seattle, so I was born at home. The story goes--and I don't know whether it's truth or fiction--that Daddy was kept busy boiling water to keep him out of the doctor's way.

See, one story always reminds me of another that I think about almost every time I'm in a public restroom. As you all know, there are signs posted that employees must wash their hands before returning to work. When we lived in North Bend, Daddy worked in a dairy. One day, as he was using the restroom, another employee started out withoug washing his hands. When Daddy asked him if he wasn't going to wash his hands, the man responded that he didn't need to as he was going to lunch not to work.

I'm here to tell you that none of us ever dared try to get to the dinner table without washing our hands. The same was true of using the bathroom--we were in trouble if we didn't wash our hands afterwards. To this day, my hands feel dirty if, for some reason, I can't wash my hands immediately. I remember one time Meg and I were going to Walla Walla to visit Mother and Daddy. We stopped at a rest stop and there were no facilities for handwashing. We had none of the hand sanitizer, such as I always have with me now, in the car, so the best we could do was "wash" our hands with an ice cube from the cooler. Neither of us knew if it killed any germs, but we did know we didn't dare go to our parents' house w/o washing our hands!

This is probably my shortest post, but we need to go to a birthday party for our firiend, Dick Ryan, and then to Mercer Island where Michael is playing in the State Sandy Koufax Tournament. 

6/8/09

This time it's all about me because I'm the one in the family that I know most about and you know some stories about others will creep in and there will be other stories of me in future posts, but it's all me this time. How did I go from being that cute little girl in the high chair to the lady in purple? I hope to add a couple other pix.

Growing up I always thought that I was extremely homely and fat! In fact I can remember on more than one occasion after I became an adult, that I told my mother she should have paid the school bus driver, Mr. Dunnigan, to drop that ugly child at the end of the line and forget where he left me. She would always shrug and tell me she didn't know where I got such a silly idea. Looking at my pictures now, I realize that I was neither extremely homely or extremely overweight.

I know where the ideas for both came from; the one about my looks was because evidently Audrey and I had been teasing someone about her looks so Mother (Grandma Jeanne) told me that God made me out of leftovers--my eyes weren't the same size, one ear stuck out more than the other, one leg was longer, one foot was longer, etc., and for the crowning blow, He took a ball of putty, threw it at me, and since it landed in the middle of my face, He decided to call it a nose. Now it wasn't until shortly before she died that I told her I remembered her saying those things and that's when I found out why she had said it. Little did I know that most people's features are so different on one side from the other, that if pictures are taken on one side and then the other, some times they're hard to match up as being from the same face--in other words, everyone has one eye bigger, etc. It also took me well into my adulthood to realize that my nose did the same as everyone else's--it held my glasses up, it ran, itched, got pimples, and identified smells--what more could you ask of a nose?

As far as being so fat, that was because of something my least favorite aunt--and for some reason she never outlived that designation--said when I was about 6. Shortly after Mother and I got home from school shopping, my dad's (Grandpa Kelly) sister Aurel came to the house. Of course, like any excited 1st grader, I could hardly wait to show her my new clothes! Her response was to say, "Jeanne, you're certainly not going to let her wear those plaids to school, especially the one with red, they will make her look even fatter than she is." to this day I have worn very few plaids and seldom have worn anything red.

When I was in high school I usually wore between size 14 and 16. I might mention that sizes in ladies clothes have actually been enlarged in the past several years. Also that was before "Twiggy" and many movie stars were not all super skinny.

I remember one time that I got even with Aurel and it wasn't at all planned, but I was glad she was the one. Mother and my aunt Vivian had gone to the store and Aurel was taking care of us kids. It was raining and I had to the barnyard for something. As I went under the fence, I slipped in the cow manure and was covered from head to toe. Aurel had to clean me up.

Until Aurel and her husband glen got a Welsh Corgi, she was allergic to dogs and fleas. When they came to the house, she would sit in a straight chair, pull her feet up on one of the rungs, so she didn't get too close to our dachsund, Gretchen. As if a flea would have the nerve to use Gretchen as its host!!

Oh but the other things, Gretchen would do--she could find a dead, smelly rodent (usually moles) from miles away, find it and roll in it--was an awful chore to bathe her. One day she got run over by a car and had to have a very sophisticated wire contraption on her hind quarters. She stayed at Anna May's for the duration of her recuperation. Gretchen loved to ride in cars, and no one dared leave their car door open when it was in our driveway. One day she hid on the floor of the back seat andAnna May didn't discover her until she got home. 

Well I thought it was going to be all about me, but had a little detour there about Gretchen. She lived to be 16 and wandered to a very busy street farther from the house than she ever had before and was killed by a car. We always wondered if that wasn't her choice.

I was born a few months before penicillin became available for common usage. I had started to walk when I was 8 months old, but then got slowed down a bit after having a mastoidectomy. Now if a child gets an ear infection, anti-biotics are available to take care of it. Even though I was completely sedated during the surgery, it took a couple of years before I would trust anyone wearing white. If I had to be taken to the doctor for any reason, it would take my mother and the nurse to hold me down so the doctor could do whatever had to be done.

When I was in first grade and Joe was in 3rd, he was promoted to 4th grade just before Christmas. During Christmas vacation my dad told me to tell my teacher that I thought I was as smart as Joe and should also be promoted in the middle of the school year. Of course I didn't know they had already made that decision and I remember that my dad was more than a little embarrassed when I came home and told him that I had told Mrs. Broderson and she agreed and gave me 2nd grade school work.

About that same time we used to play a softball game of work-up at the neighbors down the lane, Bachmanns. The nice thing about it was that you didn't need a lot of players and everyone who played, played every position, including hitter. One of the not-always-so-nice things about it was that adults and little kids all played together. One time I was pitching to an adult, Leo. He hit the ball and it came right back and hit me in the face. I was afraid of the ball from then on.

Mrs. Kovalenko was cook at our school and sometimes something will remind me of the smell of the lunchroom and it makes me wish I were back in school at Alderton.

When I was in about the 3rd or 4th grade, my friend Beverly Smith and I were "doubling" on one of the swings; I was sitting, she was standing and pumping. The chains were held in place by "S" hooks. Well, we really were going great, because we went up higher than the bar holding the swings. Unfortunately, that sent us higher than the "S" hooks and when one of the chains came loose, we went flying across the schoolyard. A deputy sheriff took us to the hospital on stretchers in the back of his "paddy wagon." It's a good thing neither of us was terribly  hurt. The doctor in the hospital put one hand under my neck and the other on my legs, lifted me into a sitting position and told me my back had not been broken. It wasn't broken and he maybe was trying to calm my fear, but it didn't help.

The first birthday party I ever had was when I was 7 and it was a surprise party--not for me, however. On the Friday evening before my birthday party, the mother of one of my friends called and asked my mother (Grandma Jeanne) what time my grandpa (Pop) was going to pick her daughter up on Saturday. You see, I had decided to ask all of the girls in my room to my birthday party, had made arrangements for Pop to furnish transportation to and from the party, but had not told my parents or grandparents. As most of you know, my mother was not the world's best housekeeper, so she put my little butt to work helping her clean the house. Bless her heart, she let me have the party and even baked me a cake. I don't remember what kind of cake, but I do remember that she made Jello Bavarian, which is now Michael's favorite Jello. The reason I remember that, is because one of the girls, Karen Wade, had evidently been instructed by her mother not to ask for seconds. So instead, she asked my mother if the rest of it was going to go to waste and mother laughed about that for years. Something that I remember about Karen's sister Audrey is that one time her mother got so mad at her she broke a pitcher of cream on Audrey's head--and Audrey still had to get ready and go to school that day.

Speaking of Audreys, my sister Audrey was named for Grandma Kelly (Ethel Audrey and Grandma FrenchAnna Jane).Joe and I decided she should have a nickname so we called her something that sounded like "Ojjie Jane" or just Ojj. 

And I was called Lucinda at school and Babe at home until I was 15 and decided I would no longer answer to Babe. When I was a kid, the story of Paul Bunyan and his ox, Babe, was very popular. Joe would tease me by calling me "Babe the Blue Ox" and since I already thought I was super fat, I really hated to be called Babe. Funny thing is that even until my parents and Anna May died, whenever they would say "Cindy's on the phone," it sounded much more foreign than Babe would have. It never sounded funny in person, but it did on the phone. Also, when we started looking for pictures a couple of years ago and ran into pictures of me when I was a kid, I automatically thought of myself as "Babe." Now, of course, almost everyone calls me Cindy, unless they say Mom, Grandma or Sis.

Look at this--I wrote part of this 2 nights ago and for almost an hour tonight and I haven't even graduated from 8th grade yet! This may turn into a "marathon read!" so I'll post this and write some more at a different time.

S

In my last post, I mentioned that we had gone to

cemeteries and the ages, etc., of grandparents, 

etc., when they died, but I didn't finish.

This is a picture of Stan's family when he was 

about 9. His dad, Cliff, was 50 when he died of 

a brain injury and his mother, Lola, was 62 when

she died from lung cancer. In this picture, Dick, 

Stan's only sibling, appears to be just a few 

months old and Stan is 8 1/2 years older than 

Dick.

We tried to find Grandpa and Grandma Kelly's

graves when we were in Walla Walla this past 
weekend.

Would have found them if I'd driven around the cemetery first and seen how it was divided. They 
were buried in the Oddfellows section of the cemetery." Oddfellows was a lodge comprised of people with occupations outside of the recognized trades, such as the Masons, which were started by those in 
the stone/brick working trade. Grandpa (Archie Rowen) Kelly was 72 when he died of a heart attack
in 1942. He died in a phone booth in Walla Walla after calling Grandma to tell her the bus was late.  Grandma (Ethel Audrey Warren) Kelly was 77 when she died of breast cancer in 1959. I had heard many times that my grandfather's first name was just "Arch," but on his tombstone, it is listed as 
"Archie."

Those are just some of the reasons I have been so passionate about supporting Relay for Life for

the past several years, but on to other things...

and Janet's in Mill City, OR for Jessica's baccalaureate (Thursday) and graduation (Friday)
ceremonies. She received some very nice scholarships, including one renewable $1000 anonymous
scholarship.

Saturday morning we left there for Walla Walla where we enjoyed Timm and Teri's wonderful 
barbecue while celebrating Brendin's college graduation, his birthday, Timm's 50th birthday and 
Timm and Teri's 25th anniversary. (I can't figure out how it happens that I now have 2 children older than me--well, not quite,

Timm's birthday is the 6th.)

During the week we saw all of our kids and grandkids, except for Timothy who is off making his

fortune while fishing in Alaska. It's always great to see everyone!

On the way home from Walla Walla yesterday we stopped in Yakima and visited a distant cousin and

his wife, Bill and Helen Stobie. Bill's great-grandfather, John, and my great-grandfather, Joseph, were

brothers. We enjoyed our visit with them and hope to see them again.

and I talked about a very interesting relative of ours--Joe and John's brother, Will. Even though he 

wasn't the oldest, he was the one who seemed to have taken "charge" of the family after their father 

was killed by a barn door falling on him. I have a book about him if anyone would like to read it. I 

understand he carried a 45 on his hip for most of his life and was not too bashful about using it when necessary. I don't know how he knew when it was "necessary."

I am really getting to like "anonymous." Jessica got that wonderful scholarship from "anonymous,"

"anonymous" mowed our front yard while we were gone and "anonymous" made a very generous donation to my fundraising efforts for Relay. I think that's the most interaction I've ever had in such a 
short time with "anonymous." I'm not even sure if "anonymous" is male or female--oh, the mystery of it all!

Today has not been nearly as interesting as the past few, although Timm did give me some rhubarb

yesterday so I made a rhubarb crisp with some and froze the rest of it.

Not especially creative tonite, but I've been at this for awhile--it's after 9:30, so ...

I knew it had been awhile since I sat down to do this, but hadn't realized it had been 2 full weeks. Must say that I haven't really been in the mood this past week; dealing with Peggy's death has not been easy. I think Stan & I were both a little surprised at how hard it hit us--we really hadn't expected to be faced with it at this time even though we knew it was a possibility.

Yesterday (Sunday, May 24) after church we went to the cemeteries. First to Sumner to visit Grandma and Pop's grave, with a quick little side visit to Shelby's (in case you didn't know, she was Jackie's mom & my very good friend); from there to National Cemetery in Maple Valley for Anna May and Steve's; finally to W. Seattle for Stan's parents in Forest Lawn. Whenever we go to Forest Lawn, it seems that we always have to turn on one or 2 extra streets before we finally remember that we need to turn on Morgan. I said we're just going to have to think of Captain Morgan, so we can remember. Since neither of us drinks, it's the vicious pirate, Morgan. I wonder if anyone will visit any of them after we're gone.

When I'm in Walla Walla next weekend, I plan to go to Grandma & Grandpa Kelly's graves in the WW cemetery; haven't visited them in a long time; but I know my cousin Dorothy Ellen does. Also next time I'm in Olympia on a sunny day, will stop at Capitol Campus and go to the WWll veterans' memorial and get a picture of my Uncle Jim's "brick" & "leaf."

Speaking of Jim, my earliest memory wasn't of him as I had previously written, as the invasion of Sicily was in 1943 not 1941.

My mother almost always said Decoration Day instead of Memorial Day as  the day was originally set aside to honor veterans, especially those who had died to protect our freedoms and people decorated their graves. As with many of our holidays, it has now been changed to a Monday, so people have a 3-day weekend and stores can have sales.

I don't want to get morbid, but I think it is important that the family knows how their ancestors died. I know that Great-Grandma Stobie died of heart failure as did Grandma French, 80; Grandma Jeanne, 84; and Anna May, 89. Anna May was treated for heart failure for a long time and in her final months it was discovered that she had lung cancer, which the attending physician blamed on her smoking even though it had been at least 40 years since she smoked! We believe that it was probably caused by working close to an asbestos cutting machine at the shipyards during WWll. Even at that we didn't contact the attorneys that advertise on tv to get settlements for those who suffer and/or die from mesothelioma--over 90% of those folks are at least 80 & have lived a longer life than would have been predicted at their births. 

Pop was 76 when he died and he had a heart attack which was probably related to his diabetes. My dad was 89 when he died and his body had basically worn out even though the actual cause of death was something like an esophageal tear. Shortly before he died we found that the cause of the dementia he suffered was a series of strokes in the center of his brain, so they affected his memory, but not his speech or gait.

In the fall of 1965 or 1966, Grandma French was making some blackberry jam for us; she ended up in the hospital for several days because she fainted from the heat and hit the handle of the pan as she fell. Unfortunately the hot syrup beat her to the floor and severely burned her leg and hip. 

In an earlier post, I mentioned that I had only seen Grandma French angry once, but I remember now that I did hear her when she was a little peeved on one occasion. They had moved out to the farm by Sumner after we moved to Illinois and one day replaced the roof. She got so much tar on her pants they stuck to her and she had a hard time getting them off. She got tired of us calling her "tarpants." Can't imagine why;<)

One time when we were staying with them in Montana, I remember that she wanted "chicken" for dinner, so she took her trusty 22, went a little ways from the cabin and shot a couple of grouse. That probably was not the only time she did that, but I'm sure would get a ticket in this day and age.

Seems I recall hearing a story of Dyke, Herb & Juanita's oldest child, telling during show and tell how many deer or elk his dad had shot; can't remember how many but it's a good thing his teacher knew his parents, because it was a few more than the legal limit.

Must mention how proud I am of Jessica & Philip. Jessica was all-conference runner up utility player which is especially good considering her softball team never won a single game! Her team was, however, AA Oregon State basketball champions! She was also Girl of the Year at Santiam High School. Even though Philip will be junior next September, he will be student body president! He also won an ipod for an art project.--haven't heard what his project was but I'm sure we'll find out when we go down for Jessica's baccalaureate and graduation later this week.

I don't know what time it will show a "post time" for this, but it 9:33--see it takes me a while to gather pix, thoughts, etc. 

I've been trying for days to think of something that might be of interest to write about, but keep coming up blank--maybe a little more about Pop & Grandma French.

God chose my maternal grandparents very well. I feel so blessed to have had them as my Grandma & Pop as I always knew they loved me and would love me no matter how I may have disappointed them.

(I wish I could write more about my Kelly grandparents, but I never really knew them; I think Grandpa Kelly died in 1943 and Grandma Jeanne never went to see Grandma Kelly any more than she absolutely had to and of course we didn't go if she didn't.)

Only once do I remember Grandma French getting mad. It was one of the summers that we were spending in Montana with them. Us kids just kept singing, "the worms crawl in, the worms crawl out..." until finally she had heard it enough and hollered--what a concept, Grandma hollering--at us to shut up. Words and a tone of voice that shocked all of us. Unfortunately, I don't think any of my kids or grandkids would be shocked to hear me yell to "shut up."

Anyway as I think about Pop, he's the one who passed the love of baseball down to me. He had a desire as a young man to play professional baseball, but somehow in the fight with his brother that made him decide to leave home he injured his shoulder & that was way before Tommy John surgery. I don't know who his favorite major league team was, but I remember when he would listen on the radio to either the Tacoma Tigers or the Seattle Rainiers. When the game was going well, he listened, but if things would get a little tense, he would turn the radio off but he couldn't stand not knowing what was happening, so he would turn it back on in about 10 seconds. 

I was the same way in 1956 when listening to the perfect game that Don Larsen pitched for the New York Yankees (who I HATED) against the Brooklyn Dodgers (who I LOVED). I was stuffing envelopes at work and had a radio on my desk. It's a wonder I didn't wear the on/off switch out that day as I turned it on-off-on-off-on-off for practically every pitch in the 8th & 9th innings. Of course, I wanted the Dodgers to win, but I also wanted to hear a perfect game--what a predicament for a 17-year-old baseball lover to be in! Well, obviously I survived and I didn't have to replace my radio.

I spent last Saturday at the Farmers' Market in Puyallup raising awareness of Relay for Life; talked to a few people who are interested in joining a team or starting their own. Also heard a couple of heart-breaking stories. All in all, it was a wonderful day at the market--sunny, a bit breezy at times and time spent w/friends while talking to strangers as well. I told someone today that I would almost sell one of my grandchildren if it would buy a cure for cancer. Suppose the parents of whichever one I chose would disown me in the process, so it's a good thing there's no chance of that happening!! Besides that, I love my grandchildren and couldn't imagine being without one of them forever! 

It is that time of year, however, when Relay is my true passion! This is the 25th anniversary of Relay; our church has been involved for 18 years and I started participating in 2000. For the first few years I raised a little bit of money & walked some of it, then as I got more involved and realized how much RFL does for cancer patients, it has become more and more important to me. So far RFL is in 20 countries all over the world, has raised over 3 Billion dollars, 83% of which goes directly to research.

 Speaking of grandchildren, it's almost impossible to believe that Brendin is old enough to be graduated from college and Jessica from high school, but we know it's true. Guess that's where I'll end for today. Sorry I couldn't quickly come up with a pic of Jess when she was little, so here's one from her sr. year. The one of Brendin is when he had to have the brace during the process of getting his hip straightened out so he could walk and run without pain--what a brave boy he was!!

Warned you at the beginning that I couldn't think of much to say & it's sure a "hodgepodge" of ideas. 

Funny words

I will try to remember to use the following names for people to try to keep from confusing whoever might be reading this.

I think I always refer to Grandma Stobie as that or Grandma S.

Granddad is always Granddad Stobie; can't think of anyone else I ever called that & my mother always refered to him as Granddad.

I will try to remember to use Grandma French or Grandma F when refering to my mother's mother and her dad was always Pop.

My dad's mother is Grandma Kelly or Grandma K. and his dad is Grandpa Kelly or K.

My dad is almost always Daddy--don't think I ever called him anything else, although we did call my mother "Jeanne" until I was in the 5th grade & asked if she would care if I started calling her "Mother."

I'll try to remember to call my mother Grandma Jeanne or Grandma J. She hated being called Grandma Kelly since she never got along with her mother-in-law.

Okay, there is my cast of characters who need to be identified. If I mention anyone else that I think you may not know, I'll try to remember to give a clue. 

For the past couple of days I've been thinking about some of the words that my kids and grandkids used when they were little. I know I've forgotten some and if I don't mention a favorite, I apologize.

But first, I'll mention a story I remember hearing my mother tell many times. Her brother, Jim, went to the store one time and wanted a balloon, but had a hard time letting the clerk know his wishes. She tried to sell him a broom, but he didn't want a "boom" he wanted a "boom." Each time he would try to make himself clear, his "boom" became louder and it took several "booms" before she understood that he wanted a "boom" not a "boom."

I don't know who started it, but when the boys were young, Vic was 9 or 10, they used "ayp" for the past tense of any verb with the "eep" sound. They "slayp" in bed, "swayp" the floor and "kayp" their "treasures" in safe places. 

Kelli never liked peanut butter & jam sandwiches when she was little--don't know if she does now or not--but she would occasionally have just a peanut butter sandwich, and I'm not sure how to spell this, but she called it something like "pinnip'ala." She pronounced the short "a" as one would pronounce a short "e." So flags became "flegs," bags were "begs" and rags were "regs." One time I was trying to get her to pronounce all of her "eg" words, but couldn't get her to say, "rags." Finally I asked her what you call towels when they're worn out and she said "washcloths." We still eat "hangerbers" because of Kelli.

My cousin Bud, who was my dad's oldest brother Beryl's son, is the reason I have eaten "bisgetti" all my life.

Timothy had a hard time with the letter "l." I still like "yemmon" drops and when I went to Winco earlier this evening, I told the man putting out bananas that I was glad to see that he had "yots and yots" of them!

When Brendin was just learning to talk he called Stan & me, as well as his other grandparents, something that sounded as if he was clearing his throat, "bracha." And then, of course, that too went away & we became "Grandma & Grandpa."

Blake was about 3 when he always had a joke for everyone, but when he said it, it always sounded as if the word was "djoke." I never was able to make it sound like he did, but now he says "joke" just like the rest of us.

I don't remember this, but when I was about 2, I loved to look at the Montgomery Wards catalog  with my uncle Jim. Well, I didn't exactly look at the entire catalog. As soon as he walked in the door, I would get it (even find it if he'd hidden it), climb up on his lap, open the catalog to lawnmowers and ask "whassizzit, Jim?" 

This is not about words, but I understand I loved to go behind the couch and eat cigarette butts. I don't remember that either, but I do remember eating dirt and coal. I was so disappointed when we moved out to the farm and Grandma Jeanne told me I couldn't eat those two things  any more because the chickens ran loose and I wouldn't want to eat chicken poop. I missed eating coal longer than I missed eating dirt and I'm quite sure I ate some from the bottom of the coal pile--after all a chicken couldn't have pooped there.

This is about words, but not one that any child I ever knew made up. Kelli hadn't been talking long when, like many children do, she picked up a pretty common cuss word. Whenever I heard her use it, I would always say, "did you say darnit, Kelli?" and she would always repeat "darnit." One day when she was home with her dad, she said that little word and he asked, "did you say darnit, Kelli?"

She put her hands on her hips and said, "NO, I say 'shit,' Daddy." fortunately that habit was broken before too long.

That's it for "word stories" for now, maybe I'll think of more later

From 1969 until 1984 I was a displayer for Home Interiors and Gifts. We had a meeting every Monday morning and for the first few years that Stan & I were married, he had Mondays off so he was home with Kelli. By this time all of the boys were in school. One afternoon when she was about 14 months old, I asked where Kelli was I came home. Stan was still not completely over his frustration when he told me he'd given her a spanking & put her to bed! First she had taken a box of Cheerios and spilled them all over the kitchen floor. As he was cleaning them up, she went in the bathroom and put most of her diapers in the toilet--fortunately she didn't know how to flush it. While he was cleaning that mess up, she was back out in the kitchen where she had taken out a jar of jam and proceeded to mop the floor with it! I guess that was the proverbial last straw.

She was also a horrible climber--guess it's how you look at it, she probably thought she was a good climber. The refrigerator was between the counter and the hot water tank closet. There was a cupboard above that where we "kayp" "goodies" for school lunches and had to lock because of her climbing prowess. She would get a chair, get up on the counter, from there to the top of the refrigerator and reach around the corner so that she could help herself and any of her companions to potato chips,cookies, etc. Scared me half to death more than one time to see her there, but she never fell. 

    Sorry the characters aren't shown in the order they appear, but my Uncle Jim is the top pic, then Timothy, our family-we were all so young--then Audrey & me (really young), Kelli pretending to be Tarzan, Blake and Brendin.

Also sorry about those huge spaces, but to change them I would have to take the pix all out & start over w/them--too late

This picture of This picture of Grandma and Pop (French) was taken in the 1950's and really hasn't anything to do with what I'm going to write, but I am going to talk a bit about Pop.

I looked in the mirror yesterday and thought that if Pop were here, he would say: "There was a little girl who had a little curl, right in the middle of her forehead, and when she was good, she was very, very good, but when she was bad, she was horrid." When I was growing up, it seemed like every time I asked him a question, he would answer with either a poem or a song. Many times that would irritate me, but I've found myself many times answering one of my kids or grandkids the very same way.

He left home when he was a teenager and I understand it was because of a terrible fight he had with one of his brothers. They never did reconcile, but after that he could not stand squabbling at all. If any of us kids got into an argument when he was at our place, he would threaten to leave. Since we all loved both of them so much, we always settled right down. To the best of my knowledge, he and Grandma French never had an argument in their long marriage. They were both pretty strong-minded so I'm sure they had their disagreements, but my mother (Grandma Jeanne) said she never heard them argue and I never did either. (We all know Grandma Jeanne never inherited that trait.)

Pop was diabetic and had to have his little toe amputated. That kept him in bed for several weeks--today I'm sure it would be day surgery. They lived with Anna May and Elsie at the time and I remember one time Grandma F. telling me how badly I had hurt his feelings because when I would go there to visit, I didn't go into their bedroom to visit him. I really felt bad about that because he was a very special and wonderful person, but I was only about 12 and had never seen anyone who had to stay in bed because of an operation, so I didn't know how to act around him. Well, I found out that you act around a sick person the same way you do around a healthy person--be yourself and let them do at least some of the talking ;)

We moved to the farm outside of Sumner when I was 5 and he told me that the front teats on a cow gave fresh milk and the back ones gave buttermilk. (I always liked homemade buttermilk but have never like the cultured stuff except to bake with.) Sure enough the first time I saw my dad milk the cow, I was very upset because he put the milk from all 4 teats in the same bucket!

This is a  picture of Uncle Bill and Aunt Alta (Pop's aunt and uncle) taken on their 50th wedding anniversary. I think they lived in the same place their entire married life and to the best of my knowledge only had one son whose name was Ancil. My mother never liked him so you will have to figure out for yourself what she called him (kinda like a small place in N. Idaho) I have a pitcher in the corner cabinet that belonged to them. I met them when Vic was a baby, Pop and Grandma came to visit us in Illinois and we drove to eastern Indiana. There were 2 or 3 men in their 70's in front of a small store in the town (I think) of Poneto. Anyway, we stopped, Pop got out of the car, walked over to the men and all of them wept openly. I truly don't know how they recognized each other after all those years, but somehow they did and were grateful for the reunion.

I sure got my comeuppance this weekend. At last week's youth auction, you may remember that one of my lemon pies raised $300. Well that sure wasn't so at the RFL auction. The auctioneer decided that there would not be any food items in the life portion of the auction--the most one of my pies brought was $25! A friend of mind donated a beautiful chocolate cake that has about $20 worth of ingredients in it and takes almost an entire day to make and it raised $30! In the live auction a pair of 18-speed mountain bikes went for $250 and a flat screen tv worth nearly $1000 sold for $450. This particular auctioneer is the only one I've ever seen that starts the prices high and then works down. He'll start something at $1000, work down to $100 and then try to get people to go back up. This is the second year we've had him and I hope we have a different one next year. I know I certainly won't be donating any pies if he's back! Another friend had 2 large oval laundry baskets, one filled with baked goods and homemade candy and the other filled with homemade pickles, jellies, etc. and the pair of them sold in silent auction for $39! She had way more than that invested! It is all for a good cause, but would be easier to donate the money!

I had my eyes examined the other day; the doctor says I need new glasses because I can't read the fine print as well as I did 3 years ago--who needs fine print if you're not reading contracts?! They also told me to get some artificial tears and use them when I sit down at the computer and again when I get up; so far I haven't remembered to buy them, but I can tell they're right about that part--my eyes start to itch and burn after I've been here awhile. sooo, that's it for now. As you can see, I still haven't figured out how to wrap the text nor figure out how to correct the line spacing around a picture, so rather than go crazy (ier) trying to figure out how to do it, I'm going to let it go...