This morning, June 28, the death of Senator Byrd, age 92 was announced on television. I followed his political career for many years and came to admire him during his latter years as a member of the United States Senate.
In the long ago years when the family went on month long vacations to visit relatives in the south, one of our high lights was the visit to Uncle Bus and Aunt Mary in Middlesboro, Ky. ( Uncle Bus was grandmother Abbott’s brother; his real name was Herod Ely, married to Mary Byrd.) We always took grandma and grandpa with us since the only time they got to travel to Middlesboro was when Dad’s vacation brought us to the area.
We usually spent 3 or 4 days visiting them and the whole family loved to listen to the stories Uncle Bus would tell when it was bedtime. We children would make our pallets on the front room floor, lights were dimmed and adults gathered round in comfortable chairs. We children begged for stories told in past years and between new stories, Uncle Bus would sing mountain songs to us.
One afternoon while we were all in the yard watching a forest fire on the adjacent mountain, a young man, named Robert Byrd, came to visit Aunt Mary. I was about 15 years old and didn’t pay attention to him but heard him talking about campaigning for office although he did not live in Middlesboro. He posed for snapshots with us before leaving, and one of them, showing him standing next to me, was among the box of photos the family had for years.
When I became more aware of government and elections, I used to bemoan the fact that Senator Byrd was such a reactionary, bigoted Senator, but as years passed, he changed his ways and gradually he exhibited a more scholarly, statesman like quality that I came to admire.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Friday, June 25, 2010
Summer
One expects the calendar
To never misbehave.
That seasons follow seasons
With moods that pave the way
For moons to shrink and grow
So tides will ebb and flow
And that the Ides of March
Will always know their place.
But something‘s gone awry
And summer lost its way
Instead of six and twenty one
We skipped the month of May
Cause summer came in April
With golden rays of sun
Now the days get hotter with
Each rising of the sun
Throughout July and August
Until Indian summer comes
To bring a breath of coolness
Will summer’s heat be gone
By marion
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Things Forgotten and a Visit Remembered by Loretta
[Editor's note: This story by Loretta]
I remember the vacations that we took, they weren’t like the ones people take today. Ours consisted of visiting relatives that mom or dad hadn’t seen in a while.
One of our trips was to my dad's cousin's farm in Valley, Nebraska. John and his sister Bertha had a 165 acre farm. They had no electricity and I’m not sure about running water in the house, it was definitely outdoor plumbing. They also had a root cellar, where their fruits and vegetables were kept and smoked Hams were hung from support beams. When John would go shopping he always bought cases of 7up soda in the bottle .
When we arrived they always offered coffee for our parents and we got the soda pop. While they caught up on the latest gossip we were allowed to ride his horses. He had large Draft horses and if you’re a child your legs only went across the back of the horse; not down the sides. The house was on a high hill, higher than the barn, so we rode up and down the hill. I could make it down , but not up; I fell off every time. I think that’s when I learned to cuss.
In those days, John only used the horse and plow to farm. It wasn’t till later, his other sister Lillian and her family talked him into a tractor. His nephews and niece helped him with the farm. I used to set and listen to their conversations. I remember John telling dad about digging a hole and burying his model T truck. Years later some man from Texas offered him enough money for it and it was dug up and sold. At night time, we had to come in and John let us play his 1929 Victor phonograph. He had a whole collection of the latest songs for that time.
When you came to visit you always knew the drive way to his house . He had the biggest mail box in the county and the longest driveway It seemed like for ever . It was like going down into a valley, and on muddy days you wondered if you’d get back to the street.
After leaving there we stopped at his sister Lillian’s house. She also lived on a farm with 5 kids to help with the farming. Her house had more modern conveniences . We’d always stayed at one of their homes for the night before heading back.
For us, it was a real treat to be able to go to another state have so much fun and not get into trouble, and believe it or not: no T.V.! In those day, we only radio to listen to but a lot of out door games got played.
I was talking to my brother about our trips and he reminded me about harvest time it coincided with some of our visits. Dad would help with the harvest and it was fun watching them fill the silos of corn . They had co-ops that moved from one farm to the next, harvesting the crops.
Its funny when you reminisce about growing up and all the things you‘d forgotten.
I remember the vacations that we took, they weren’t like the ones people take today. Ours consisted of visiting relatives that mom or dad hadn’t seen in a while.
One of our trips was to my dad's cousin's farm in Valley, Nebraska. John and his sister Bertha had a 165 acre farm. They had no electricity and I’m not sure about running water in the house, it was definitely outdoor plumbing. They also had a root cellar, where their fruits and vegetables were kept and smoked Hams were hung from support beams. When John would go shopping he always bought cases of 7up soda in the bottle .
When we arrived they always offered coffee for our parents and we got the soda pop. While they caught up on the latest gossip we were allowed to ride his horses. He had large Draft horses and if you’re a child your legs only went across the back of the horse; not down the sides. The house was on a high hill, higher than the barn, so we rode up and down the hill. I could make it down , but not up; I fell off every time. I think that’s when I learned to cuss.
In those days, John only used the horse and plow to farm. It wasn’t till later, his other sister Lillian and her family talked him into a tractor. His nephews and niece helped him with the farm. I used to set and listen to their conversations. I remember John telling dad about digging a hole and burying his model T truck. Years later some man from Texas offered him enough money for it and it was dug up and sold. At night time, we had to come in and John let us play his 1929 Victor phonograph. He had a whole collection of the latest songs for that time.
When you came to visit you always knew the drive way to his house . He had the biggest mail box in the county and the longest driveway It seemed like for ever . It was like going down into a valley, and on muddy days you wondered if you’d get back to the street.
After leaving there we stopped at his sister Lillian’s house. She also lived on a farm with 5 kids to help with the farming. Her house had more modern conveniences . We’d always stayed at one of their homes for the night before heading back.
For us, it was a real treat to be able to go to another state have so much fun and not get into trouble, and believe it or not: no T.V.! In those day, we only radio to listen to but a lot of out door games got played.
I was talking to my brother about our trips and he reminded me about harvest time it coincided with some of our visits. Dad would help with the harvest and it was fun watching them fill the silos of corn . They had co-ops that moved from one farm to the next, harvesting the crops.
Its funny when you reminisce about growing up and all the things you‘d forgotten.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Bocelli
As I listened to an Andrea Bocelli concert this evening, I thought of my sister, Adeline. She is the one that told me how much she liked his voice and since then, we both have enjoyed listening to him at every opportunity. Adeline and I have spent hours sitting enraptured while listening and or watching Bocelli, as well as the famous Three Tenors, when she visited me or when I visited her.
As long as I can remember, Adeline remembered lyrics to all the pop songs and honky-tonk songs we heard on the radio. In her later years she had a collection of country western songs and she subscribed to magazines about the performers, their lives and careers.
Many times I helped Adeline gather up records she had checked out of the local library that were due to be returned and after turning them in, helped her to pick out another load to take home to listen to. I particularly remember her love of Broadway musicals.
Adeline had an average singing voice, but my sister Esther has a very nice singing voice but her progressive hearing loss prevents her from enjoying the music she loves so much.
Listening to music that I know my sisters loved always brings me double pleasure.
As long as I can remember, Adeline remembered lyrics to all the pop songs and honky-tonk songs we heard on the radio. In her later years she had a collection of country western songs and she subscribed to magazines about the performers, their lives and careers.
Many times I helped Adeline gather up records she had checked out of the local library that were due to be returned and after turning them in, helped her to pick out another load to take home to listen to. I particularly remember her love of Broadway musicals.
Adeline had an average singing voice, but my sister Esther has a very nice singing voice but her progressive hearing loss prevents her from enjoying the music she loves so much.
Listening to music that I know my sisters loved always brings me double pleasure.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
A Soupçon of Mexico by KimB
[Editor's Note: This story was written by KimB]
When I was young, my mother took me and my brother to live in Mexico while she worked as an artist and studied Mexican Painting Techniques. I think for most of the rest of our extended family, this is a rather mysterious period in my mother's life.
While there were many high-lights there were also low-lights for me as we lived and traveled in a foreign country. The high-lights were many and as I grew older have way way out shadowed the low-lights. It was tough for a young American girl to live in the culture of 1960's Mexico, but I was tough and stubborn and I made of it what I wanted. The things I learned have carried me well through my adult life and have made me much more aware that there are lots of other ways of doing things besides the ones we know or are familiar with and that not everyone does it “our way”.
We had many friends among the art community and they were all very tolerant of my brash nosiness. I was rarely excluded from any party or adult gathering. The topics were always interesting and I knew that many of the people I met were famous in their own rights and even at a young age I realized that if I just listened I could learn a lot.
Life with Mom was always an “adventure”, no matter where we were or what we were doing. Having an adventure every day was routine for us. We were always looking for something different or unique to do. We had very little money, so we had to come up with adventures that didn't cost very much and luckily for us, 1960s Mexico was a very inexpensive place to live.
We had only one rule: Don't eat from a street vendor. Of course, everyone knows that eating in any foreign country can lead to “hours on the porcelain throne” and Mom was very very strict that the only things that we could eat from street vendors were things we could peel (bananas), baked goods (breads and rolls) and soda pop that was opened in front of us. She was careful to take us to quality restaurants where the food was well prepared. I immediately loved Mexican Cooking and had a long list of my favorite dishes. When I got too nostalgic for American Cooking, she would take me to one of 2 or 3 restaurants that served HOTDOGS and GRILLED CHESSE SANDWICHES! For a 10 year old, I was in hotdog heaven! There was even a New York Style Delicatessen where we would go on special occasions.
Sampling new fare was always an adventure in its own right and not always a planned one! One time, my Mom, brother and I went to a distant Mercado (open air market). There were so many things to look at and as the day wore on, my brother and I were overcome with hunger. There were so many good smells coming from the cooking stalls, it made our hunger even more intense. Finally, my mother couldn't stand our whining anymore and handed us enough money to buy something from the cooking vendors. My brother and I stood looking at all the offerings and as we spoke no Spanish at the time, we had to guess what everything was. We debated a long time about what would be the safest thing to eat. We watched what other buyers were ordering and checked out each of the half-dozen or so cooking stalls. They must have been very amused to see two Anglo children drooling over the food!
At last we came to a decision: my brother pointed at 2 bowls of what looked like bean soup and handed over the money. Dutifully the vendor handed us two heaping bowls and two large handfuls of tortillas. We took them to the benches nearby to eat them. Mom, stayed a good distance from us, angry that we couldn't control our impulsive behavior. We had to look around to see how people were eating this bubbling hot soup. Soon we figured out that you tear the tortilla into sections and use it as a scoop. Even if a spoon had been offered we would never have used it; we were not THAT foolish. We dipped our first tortilla-scoop into the soup and took a skeptical sample taste. Our faces lit up with joy; it was delicious! We were soon scooping it up like it was the only meal we ever ate! Slurp, slurp, slurp down it went. We even soaked up even the last juices from the bottom of the bowl! We handed back the bowls and thanked the vendor.
Mom, come over when she saw we were finished, her anger diminished by the happy looks on our faces. We gave her a full report that the soup was excellent and cheap and we encouraged her to give it a try but Rule 1 took over and she refused saying she would wait until she could eat in one of the more acceptable restaurants. She remained convinced that we would be violently ill in a few hours and dire warnings were repeated as well as instructions about what to do if we became ill that night.
Our adventure in the Market continued long into the afternoon and we returned to the hotel for the evening meal. My brother and I were still full of soup but Mom ate a big dinner. We had our evening review of the day and my brother and I extolled the virtues of that soup over and over again. Luckily for us, no one became ill and we all slept well that night.
I can still remember the aroma and flavors of that soup and nothing has ever compared to it!
When I was young, my mother took me and my brother to live in Mexico while she worked as an artist and studied Mexican Painting Techniques. I think for most of the rest of our extended family, this is a rather mysterious period in my mother's life.
While there were many high-lights there were also low-lights for me as we lived and traveled in a foreign country. The high-lights were many and as I grew older have way way out shadowed the low-lights. It was tough for a young American girl to live in the culture of 1960's Mexico, but I was tough and stubborn and I made of it what I wanted. The things I learned have carried me well through my adult life and have made me much more aware that there are lots of other ways of doing things besides the ones we know or are familiar with and that not everyone does it “our way”.
We had many friends among the art community and they were all very tolerant of my brash nosiness. I was rarely excluded from any party or adult gathering. The topics were always interesting and I knew that many of the people I met were famous in their own rights and even at a young age I realized that if I just listened I could learn a lot.
Life with Mom was always an “adventure”, no matter where we were or what we were doing. Having an adventure every day was routine for us. We were always looking for something different or unique to do. We had very little money, so we had to come up with adventures that didn't cost very much and luckily for us, 1960s Mexico was a very inexpensive place to live.
We had only one rule: Don't eat from a street vendor. Of course, everyone knows that eating in any foreign country can lead to “hours on the porcelain throne” and Mom was very very strict that the only things that we could eat from street vendors were things we could peel (bananas), baked goods (breads and rolls) and soda pop that was opened in front of us. She was careful to take us to quality restaurants where the food was well prepared. I immediately loved Mexican Cooking and had a long list of my favorite dishes. When I got too nostalgic for American Cooking, she would take me to one of 2 or 3 restaurants that served HOTDOGS and GRILLED CHESSE SANDWICHES! For a 10 year old, I was in hotdog heaven! There was even a New York Style Delicatessen where we would go on special occasions.
Sampling new fare was always an adventure in its own right and not always a planned one! One time, my Mom, brother and I went to a distant Mercado (open air market). There were so many things to look at and as the day wore on, my brother and I were overcome with hunger. There were so many good smells coming from the cooking stalls, it made our hunger even more intense. Finally, my mother couldn't stand our whining anymore and handed us enough money to buy something from the cooking vendors. My brother and I stood looking at all the offerings and as we spoke no Spanish at the time, we had to guess what everything was. We debated a long time about what would be the safest thing to eat. We watched what other buyers were ordering and checked out each of the half-dozen or so cooking stalls. They must have been very amused to see two Anglo children drooling over the food!
At last we came to a decision: my brother pointed at 2 bowls of what looked like bean soup and handed over the money. Dutifully the vendor handed us two heaping bowls and two large handfuls of tortillas. We took them to the benches nearby to eat them. Mom, stayed a good distance from us, angry that we couldn't control our impulsive behavior. We had to look around to see how people were eating this bubbling hot soup. Soon we figured out that you tear the tortilla into sections and use it as a scoop. Even if a spoon had been offered we would never have used it; we were not THAT foolish. We dipped our first tortilla-scoop into the soup and took a skeptical sample taste. Our faces lit up with joy; it was delicious! We were soon scooping it up like it was the only meal we ever ate! Slurp, slurp, slurp down it went. We even soaked up even the last juices from the bottom of the bowl! We handed back the bowls and thanked the vendor.
Mom, come over when she saw we were finished, her anger diminished by the happy looks on our faces. We gave her a full report that the soup was excellent and cheap and we encouraged her to give it a try but Rule 1 took over and she refused saying she would wait until she could eat in one of the more acceptable restaurants. She remained convinced that we would be violently ill in a few hours and dire warnings were repeated as well as instructions about what to do if we became ill that night.
Our adventure in the Market continued long into the afternoon and we returned to the hotel for the evening meal. My brother and I were still full of soup but Mom ate a big dinner. We had our evening review of the day and my brother and I extolled the virtues of that soup over and over again. Luckily for us, no one became ill and we all slept well that night.
I can still remember the aroma and flavors of that soup and nothing has ever compared to it!
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Apple Butter and Outhouses Part 2 by Loretta
[Editor's Note: This story is by Loretta]
I guess you can say, we survived on what we raised. From the garden, to canning for the winter months, to raising chickens, rabbits and hogs, which were slaughtered and stored in food lockers. Even trading for dairy products.
I remember my mother raising a goose for Easter Dinner but when it came time, she couldn’t kill it because it had become a pet. Instead she traded for a duck. The other family ate goose; we had duck. My mother was funny in that way, she could kill and prepare the chickens for Sunday dinner but she never ate them.
I remember we had a crab apple that had tons of apples. They were tart and we’d take the salt shakers up on the hill to where the tree was, douse our apples with salt and usually leave the shakers behind. Mom would have to wait for us to retrieve them and bring them back home. Oh, the trouble we’d get into!
We had a neighbor by the name of Mr. Copley and he had a pair of horses that pulled a big flat bed junk wagon. While on his route, if he saw us walking, he’d give us a ride home. In the summer, he’d give us hay rides. But come October 31, we'd still knock his outhouse over! Of course, the next day, we’d stand it up again.
When I was about 8 years old my parents sold the acreage and moved to Des Moines and bought a house there. Across the street was a park. In the summer, they opened the recreation building and we played board games as well as baseball, basketball and tether ball. There was a wading pool, which everyone was in. In the winter, when the pool froze over, everyone would ice skate.
Those were the years I remember the most.
I guess you can say, we survived on what we raised. From the garden, to canning for the winter months, to raising chickens, rabbits and hogs, which were slaughtered and stored in food lockers. Even trading for dairy products.
I remember my mother raising a goose for Easter Dinner but when it came time, she couldn’t kill it because it had become a pet. Instead she traded for a duck. The other family ate goose; we had duck. My mother was funny in that way, she could kill and prepare the chickens for Sunday dinner but she never ate them.
I remember we had a crab apple that had tons of apples. They were tart and we’d take the salt shakers up on the hill to where the tree was, douse our apples with salt and usually leave the shakers behind. Mom would have to wait for us to retrieve them and bring them back home. Oh, the trouble we’d get into!
We had a neighbor by the name of Mr. Copley and he had a pair of horses that pulled a big flat bed junk wagon. While on his route, if he saw us walking, he’d give us a ride home. In the summer, he’d give us hay rides. But come October 31, we'd still knock his outhouse over! Of course, the next day, we’d stand it up again.
When I was about 8 years old my parents sold the acreage and moved to Des Moines and bought a house there. Across the street was a park. In the summer, they opened the recreation building and we played board games as well as baseball, basketball and tether ball. There was a wading pool, which everyone was in. In the winter, when the pool froze over, everyone would ice skate.
Those were the years I remember the most.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Apple Butter and Outhouses Part 1 by Loretta
[Editor's Note: This story is by Loretta]
We lived on an acreage not far from a Military Base in Fort Des Moines, Iowa. After the war ended, the military base was turned into low income housing. They also had a theater there, which showed movies with Jerry Lewis, Abbot and Costello, and many more, so in the summer all the kids from the neighborhood banded together and went in a group to the show.
My grandfather on my mother's side of the family lived with us and took care of us kids, all five of us, while both my parents worked. When the other four were in school, I was his side kick. He wore overalls, so my mother made me a pair too.
My grandfather was quite a character. When he was left in charge, my brother Mark always challenged his authority. Gramp's would put Mark across his knee and whip him, all the while asking “Who's in charge?” Mark never gave in, always insisting HE was the one in charge, until Gramp's hands gave out. Neither broke.
In those days, my mother did a lot of baking of bread. On those occasions Gramp's would bring out his coin purse and send us to the store for Apple Butter, our favorite. Not too many years ago, I thought about that Apple Butter, so I bought a jar from the store... trust me, it's not the same.
It’s funny the things you remember in your childhood.
We lived on an acreage not far from a Military Base in Fort Des Moines, Iowa. After the war ended, the military base was turned into low income housing. They also had a theater there, which showed movies with Jerry Lewis, Abbot and Costello, and many more, so in the summer all the kids from the neighborhood banded together and went in a group to the show.
My grandfather on my mother's side of the family lived with us and took care of us kids, all five of us, while both my parents worked. When the other four were in school, I was his side kick. He wore overalls, so my mother made me a pair too.
My grandfather was quite a character. When he was left in charge, my brother Mark always challenged his authority. Gramp's would put Mark across his knee and whip him, all the while asking “Who's in charge?” Mark never gave in, always insisting HE was the one in charge, until Gramp's hands gave out. Neither broke.
In those days, my mother did a lot of baking of bread. On those occasions Gramp's would bring out his coin purse and send us to the store for Apple Butter, our favorite. Not too many years ago, I thought about that Apple Butter, so I bought a jar from the store... trust me, it's not the same.
It’s funny the things you remember in your childhood.
Sunday, June 06, 2010
I think I’m doing fine by Loretta
[editor's note: We would like to introduce a new poster to the blog: Loretta. Loretta is MrsB's cousin. We hope you will enjoy her stories as much as we do! There are more details about Loretta at the bottom of the posting for those interested in family ties]
Back in 2001, I was having medical problems, my doctor asked me how I felt about my job. Telling him how much I hated it, he asked me why I didn't quit and try something new. So I called the Retail Clerks Union that I belonged to and found out how much money I'd receive if I retired. That was all it took. I quit and moved on.
I started looking for a property outside of California. I thought about New Mexico, but decided on Arizona, which is closer to family and Laughlin, Nevada. I bought a house on 6 acres of land in northern Arizona; moved in and started making it mine.
I finished the room and bathroom connected to the garage, put French Doors in and built a patio and courtyard in the front of my house. I also started a fruit tree orchard. I have apples, pears, cherries, peaches, nectarines, apricots,plums and two years ago I had a green house built to keep alive my lemon, tangerine, and pummelo trees.
Every year I start a garden planting tomatoes, regular cukes and Japanese cukes, cantaloupe, Italian squash, red and green bells, different kinds of chili peppers, watermelon, cilantro and anything that has a mind to grow from the year before. I'm growing different kinds of grapes. Two years ago they dried up on the vine and were so sweet. Believe it or not: raisins.
I have an extended family of animals: three dogs, four cats, two horses and they all rule the roost. The property is up against federal and state land which has wild critters: rabbits, squirrels, deer and snakes. There are all kinds of birds, such as hawks, very large ravens, roadrunners and quail. There are tame birds that have mated with wild ones and they have the most beautiful colors: yellows, reds and blues. Lately, we have had two mountain lions hanging around and the coyote run wild out here too. I've even seen a cattle drive come up over the hill and into the valley beyond us.
We have the four seasons, which makes it nice. In the winter, it snows and I heat the house with a wood burning stove. In the summer, my doors and windows never get closed. In the spring, everything turns green and all the wild flowers that grow out here are beautiful. I planted iris at my fence line and put potted plants all over the patio. In the fall, the weather starts cooling down and we have pit fires at night out on the patio.
Living out here reminds me of my childhood. The first 10 years we lived in a rural area in Iowa; outhouse and all. I do have indoor plumbing here of course. I wish the dirt was as good here as it is in Iowa, but that’s never going to happen. We also don’t have the humidity here that you have in the Midwest, makes it harder to grow sweet and juicy fruit and veggies.
It's also different as far as shopping goes, anywhere from 13 to 30 miles depending on what your looking for. I’ve also gone back to hanging clothes on the line, instead of using a dryer. I’m on a well system so the only utility I have is electric; can’t do without that.
God willing and the creek don’t rise, I think I’m doing fine.
[Who is Loretta? MrsB's mom is Lucinda. Lucinda's brother is Lester. Loretta is Lester's daughter. She is a first cousin to MrsB and MrsB's brothers and sisters. She is a 2nd cousin to their children.]
Back in 2001, I was having medical problems, my doctor asked me how I felt about my job. Telling him how much I hated it, he asked me why I didn't quit and try something new. So I called the Retail Clerks Union that I belonged to and found out how much money I'd receive if I retired. That was all it took. I quit and moved on.
I started looking for a property outside of California. I thought about New Mexico, but decided on Arizona, which is closer to family and Laughlin, Nevada. I bought a house on 6 acres of land in northern Arizona; moved in and started making it mine.
I finished the room and bathroom connected to the garage, put French Doors in and built a patio and courtyard in the front of my house. I also started a fruit tree orchard. I have apples, pears, cherries, peaches, nectarines, apricots,plums and two years ago I had a green house built to keep alive my lemon, tangerine, and pummelo trees.
Every year I start a garden planting tomatoes, regular cukes and Japanese cukes, cantaloupe, Italian squash, red and green bells, different kinds of chili peppers, watermelon, cilantro and anything that has a mind to grow from the year before. I'm growing different kinds of grapes. Two years ago they dried up on the vine and were so sweet. Believe it or not: raisins.
I have an extended family of animals: three dogs, four cats, two horses and they all rule the roost. The property is up against federal and state land which has wild critters: rabbits, squirrels, deer and snakes. There are all kinds of birds, such as hawks, very large ravens, roadrunners and quail. There are tame birds that have mated with wild ones and they have the most beautiful colors: yellows, reds and blues. Lately, we have had two mountain lions hanging around and the coyote run wild out here too. I've even seen a cattle drive come up over the hill and into the valley beyond us.
We have the four seasons, which makes it nice. In the winter, it snows and I heat the house with a wood burning stove. In the summer, my doors and windows never get closed. In the spring, everything turns green and all the wild flowers that grow out here are beautiful. I planted iris at my fence line and put potted plants all over the patio. In the fall, the weather starts cooling down and we have pit fires at night out on the patio.
Living out here reminds me of my childhood. The first 10 years we lived in a rural area in Iowa; outhouse and all. I do have indoor plumbing here of course. I wish the dirt was as good here as it is in Iowa, but that’s never going to happen. We also don’t have the humidity here that you have in the Midwest, makes it harder to grow sweet and juicy fruit and veggies.
It's also different as far as shopping goes, anywhere from 13 to 30 miles depending on what your looking for. I’ve also gone back to hanging clothes on the line, instead of using a dryer. I’m on a well system so the only utility I have is electric; can’t do without that.
God willing and the creek don’t rise, I think I’m doing fine.
[Who is Loretta? MrsB's mom is Lucinda. Lucinda's brother is Lester. Loretta is Lester's daughter. She is a first cousin to MrsB and MrsB's brothers and sisters. She is a 2nd cousin to their children.]
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