As a young wife, I found myself in the unique position of being the only person in the position to help my father-in-law during the day when he was building their home. We had moved our mobile home onto their land while we were getting our own land ready to live on. At that time, my father-in-law was leveling an area of land so that he could build the home he planned to build on it. His way of leveling the land was to have me drive the tractor…something I had never done before…while pulling a scoop, guided by him behind it. My first worry was that I would go too fast and end up dragging him behind the tractor. He reassured me that it would be ok, and I knew he needed me to be there for him, so with a pain in the pit of my stomach, I set out. There were a few jerky movements, but in no time, I got the hang of it, and found that we worked well together. It was an experience that I will never forget…for a city girl, who had never driven a tractor, it was…well, amazing!
As I was scanning pictures from my Uncle Bill’s lifelong accounting of our family history, I came across something that made my experience look like learning to ride a bicycle. My Great Aunt Bertha, my Grandpa Spencer’s sister, was raised by a family named Hoover. I don’t know all the reasons behind that situation, but Uncle Bill simply states that she and her mother could not get along. The Hoover family used a steam tractor, and Great Aunt Bertha learned to operate them very well. Today, that might not seem like something so awfully special, but that was back in about 1910, and the girls didn’t do that kind of work much. Nevertheless, there were then, as there are now, people go beyond the normal expectations to do the extraordinary. Great Aunt Bertha was one of those people. She was well known for her ability to operate the steam tractor…so well known, in fact that in 1956, while attending an antique tractor and thresher show, one of the old timers, who 
knew Great Aunt Bertha, offered to let her take the steam tractor for one last spin.
He didn’t have to offer twice. Great Aunt Bertha jumped at the chance to drive that incredible machine one more time. She got on and drove it like she had never been away from the farm. I suppose that it is like a bicycle in that way. Once you have learned to operate it, you never really forget. So here was Great Aunt Bertha driving around on that old steam tractor again in the year 1956, at the age of 61 years. I would have loved to be there to see that. There were likely men there who would not have been able to run that machine, and here was this little old girl, driving it like she was born there. Amazing!!
When my sister, Cheryl suggested that my little granddaughter, Shai, who was only ten years old, spend the last month of her summer vacation taking care of our parents, while Dad was recovering from a very serious set of circumstances beginning with Pancreatitis, and Mom was beginning treatment for a Large Diffuse B-Cell Lymphoma of the brain, I was sceptical, but Cheryl argued that Shai was a mature ten year old, and she could do it. I worked nearby, and could easily get to my parents house in a matter of minutes, and so it was settled. Shai made me so proud. She was like a professional nurse. I checked in with her, and she called me sometimes, but I never had to go over and rescue her. I went at lunch to help out, but my girl…well, she could handle it, and there was no doubt about it. Shai saved us that August. By the time school started again, Mom was enough better to help out with Dad, and handle most things that came up.
There are girls…and boys too, who just have that capability. They understand the things that need to be done, and they aren’t afraid to step up and do what is needed. They don’t look at the enormity of the situation, failure never enters their mind, they don’t seem to know the word can’t…they just do. I don’t say that my girl was the only girl like that, but I couldn’t have been more proud of how she handled that situation.
I was looking through some information in my Uncle Bill’s family history books, and I came across something that I didn’t know about before, but found very interesting. When my Uncle Bill was just a baby, my grandparents owned a hotel in Tomahawk, Wisconsin. The family lived in the hotel, and grandma ran it, while my grandfather was working at the papermill. It’s pretty hard to run a hotel, which most likely included cooking meals to sell to the guests, and still take care of a baby and a ten year old girl. But, my Aunt Laura was 
not an ordinary ten year old girl…she was a mature ten year old girl, like someone else I know. While her dad worked at the papermill and her mom ran the hotel, my Aunt Laura took care of her little brother, Bill. He was a tiny little baby, and needed a lot of care, but that didn’t faze that ten year old girl. She had a job to do, and according to Uncle Bill’s writing, she did it very well. Taking care of a baby is no easy job…especially for a ten year old girl with little training. It didn’t matter. She was a mature ten year old, and she learned quickly, and in the end, her care for her little brother not only made her parents proud…it made her little brother very proud of what his big sister had done for him. A ten year old girl…can be amazing indeed, sometimes.
Today’s 8″ to 10″ of snow and still falling, takes me back to the severe storms we got when I was a kid. I remember one in particular in about 1972 or 1973, where the snow was taller than my little niece, Chantel, who was about 1 or 2 at the time. I don’t know for sure where that picture is, but I can picture it in my head. As I recall, it was almost taller than my dad, who was squatted down next to her in the picture.
Of course, like today there was no school and no unnecessary travel in the area, and about the only people moving were those with snowmobiles. The main difference then is that we had power at our house, which I do not have today. Thankfully I have one of those Olde 
Brooklyn Lanterns, or I would be sitting here in relative darkness, since it is still pretty early in the morning. I’ve read that many businesses are closing due to the weather and due to the “no unnecessary travel” warning, because of trees down and power outages, caused by power lines down.
Occasionally, I hear the cracking of branches in the trees. Because so many still have most of their leaves, they are very vulnerable. That makes me sad, especially since one of the trees we have been nurturing from the day it sprouted…a volunteer from one of our neighbor’s trees…is among those trees that have lost branches. My daughter, Amy’s trees have also lost branches. So far my daughter, Corrie’s trees are ok. The streets look like a war zone, and of course, we have made national news with our freak storm. It is so early in the year for so much snow to hit here… but not impossible as you can see.
What makes this feel so bad, however, is the loss of so many trees. The skyline has 
changed in many ways. When I look across the street from my house, many of the trees are much shorter. It is hard to tell at this moment if they are just bent or if they are broken, but I know that many are broken. It is simply heartbreaking. So many years put into growing those trees, and now they are gone, and there is no guarantee that they will come back. With God’s help we will persevere and we will nurture those trees that make it, back to health. Freak storms are a part of life, I just hate the look of the war zone that they leave behind them.
As a kid, I remember that when my parents were kissing and we were around to see it, my sisters and I always chanted, “Mommy and Daddy are kissing! Mommy and Daddy are kissing!” It was just a fun way of teasing them…not that it bothered them any. They loved having us chanting and teasing them. I suppose that in some families, there is less demonsterative behaviour, but in our house, hugging and kissing was the norm…and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Kids, for generations, have felt many different things when it comes to romance. They might be laughing about a couple kissing, because they are a little embarrassed, or it could be because they are sure that one of the people kissing are going to end up with cooties, which one depends on whether the watcher is a girl or a boy. Of course, they will outgrow those feelings and they they will be the ones being laughed at, teased, and watched. It is just the nature of the romance business.
And for as long as kids have been making fun of couples in love, people have been trying to capture those moments in one way or another…whether it be on canvas or on film. And for equally as long, those couples have been chasing, yelling at, and telling on the offending youngsters, begging their parents to intervene, and save them from the horrible humiliation of their younger siblings and their friends. Of course, most of their parents just don’t take the matter a seriously as the romantic couple would like…mostly because they have been there and the understand that a little teasing really isn’t the end of the world their children believe it to be. They also understand that in a few years the tables will turn and it will be that younger sibling who will be right there telling on another younger sibling…or possibly that older sibling getting even with them…something older siblings aren’t above either.
As a young family, my in-laws lived in Montana, and my father-in-law worked for the railroad. Their family was growing, and now they had 3 children, Marlyce, Debbe, and my future husband, Bob. My father-in-law was working for the railroad, and the family was living on railroad property.Things were going well enough, but in 1956, the decision was made to move the family from Dalin, Montana to Martinsville, Montana…neither of which still exist today, as near as I can tell, so unfortunately, I can’t say how long the trip was. That doesn’t really matter, because, any trip with three children under the age of 7 years, had to seem like an eternity. Nevertheless, this trip was about to get a little bit longer. They loaded their belongings into a 1951 Ford pickup truck, which was the first vehicle my father-in-law had ever owned, and it had been purchased brand new in 1951, so it was a nice vehicle. Everything loaded, they set out for Martinsville.
Along the way to Martinsville, a pickup pulled out in front of the 1951 Ford. The accident destroyed all their furniture and totaled the pickup. I can only imagine how awful that was. In those days, seat belts and car seats were unheard of, so I’m sure my in-laws thought they were all about to die. It was a devastating event, but the family was all ok, but, now they were stuck waiting for the police and tow truck, and had to figure out what to do next. The trip took just about the worst possible turn. I can hear the kids now. The girls were most likely crying because they were cold or hungry, and Bob being only 2 years old was either scared, or more likely curious…if I know him. It would be my guess that both of my in-laws had a massive headache from the trauma and worry, both for their family and for their future.
In the end, things turned out ok. The insurance money was enough to buy a 1953 Ford pickup and a 33 foot mobile home. I can’t imagine three kids in a 33 foot mobile home, but I’m sure they felt like it was practically a palace, considering the way things could have gone. Car accidents can conpletely devistate lives, but their little family was alive, and no one was hurt badly, so the rest of it was just stuff. If you can walk away from an accident like that in one piece, you thank the Lord, and count your many blessings.
During World War II, while my dad was serving in the Army Air Force at Great Ashfield, Suffolk, England, my Uncle Bill, who was passed over for military service due to his flat feet, worked at the Globe Shipbuilding Co in Superior, Wisconsin. My family was made up of patriots from way back. My aunts, Laura and Ruth worked in the shipyards as well, as riveters on the ships. Times were tough, and the war was expensive, but necessary. They all worked hard, sometimes seven days a week, twelve hours a day, and they were glad to do it. They were doing their part, it was something they were all very proud of…as were many people in those days. It was a time, when people put others first and themselves last. They saw what needed to be done and they did it. They didn’t sit back and expect others to take care of them. The got out there and they worked hard.
Still, as with any occupation, especially one that is grueling physical labor, you have to have some down time is order to rejuvenate yourself for the future tasks that you will encounter. With the gas rationing that was normal for that time in history, they couldn’t travel very far for their rest and relaxation, so the members of my dad’s family who were “holding down the fort” at home, took to the local parks and recreation areas for a little bit of picnic fun.
Places like Pattison Park and a friend’s cabin at Lake Minnesuing became places of refuge. They provided the war weary workers a place to get away from all the worry and fear for those in harm’s way…a little bit of a distraction from all that was going on in a world that had gone crazy. Gas rationing limited the plaes they could go, so they had to stay close to home, and they had to limit the outings. We don’t understand gas rationig in this day and age. We know about rising gas prices, but not rationing, where you only get so much a week or a month…where you learn to walk places or ride a bicycle places, but they did. It was a way of life during World War II. Sacrifices had to be made to ensure that evil did not 
take over this world, and the people of that time, military and civilian did what they had to do to see to it that evil did not take over. They were real patriots, the kind who would never gave up until the war was won. There are still a few of those people today, but I have to wonder if they are a dying breed.
When my daughters had their first children one day apart, almost 18 years who, I thought that was the coolest thing, and it was, but sometimes, sisters get to have their babies on the same day, and that it very rare indeed. Nevertheless, that is the case for my Aunt Dixie and my Aunt Bonnie. Their sons, James and Michael were born 49 years ago today. As a grandmother, I can imagine how busy things were for my grandma and grandpa. Of course, back then they couldn’t be in the room when the baby was born, nor could the father…which seems very odd to us now, but they were definitely in the waiting room pacing the floor. And the excitement must have been very high. Just think, to get two grandchildren on the same day, and they weren’t twins. That doesn’t happen very often. Now, top that off with both babies being born in the same town, in the same hospital, and you have real excitement.
It must have been interesting to the hospital staff too, because they had sisters in hospital with newborns for several days. Back then, the mom and baby stayed in the hospital for 5 days or so. I’ll bet it was the talk of the nursing staff. And for the sisters, they got to share the experience on a much closer basis than sisters usually do. They didn’t have to wait for visiting hours to see their sister’s baby, and in fact, I believe that only the dad and grandparents were allowed to visit back then, so they would have had to wait until their sister and the baby came home. Nevertheless, for the sisters, like their own son, they could easily go and see their nephew anytime they wanted to because he was probably right next to their own son, unless he was having his dinner, which would 
mean that their own son was doing the same.
Babies arriving in this world is always such a special day, and when you double that…without having twins, the day becomes even more special for the family. How wonderfully unique to be able to share the birth of your child with your sister. It adds a bond to the sisters and their families that might not have existed otherwise. Today is my cousin, Jim’s birthday and also my cousin, Michael’s birthday. I’m not sure who is the oldest, but I’m sure they will let me know as they read their story. Happy birthday Jim and Michael!! Have a wonderful day!! We love you both!!
There are times in the life of a person that are looked back on as being…Epic!! They can be anything from the first time they have flown to the first professional ball game. I’m not talking about marriage here or high school graduation, because those fall unto an entirely different class of events. And the things that are epic for one person, are not so for someone else. Today is just such a day for my grand nephew, Xander. His Aunt Liz has been to many pro ball games, as has his cousin Kellie and her boyfriend Josh, but today…well, today is special, because they have decided to make the day epic for Xander by taking him to a Broncos/Eagles game. Now Liz, Kellie, 
and Josh are Broncos fans, but Xander is an Eagles fan, so this could get…interesting. Oh, I know they wouldn’t pick on Xander too badly if the Eagles lose, but he would be hard pressed to hold back his excitement if the Eagles win. It might just be a little bit uncomfortable on the way home, but I doubt it. These are die hard sports fans, who know what it means to be a good sport.
This takes me back to my first pro baseball game…right there in Denver. Of course, I was much older that Xander has been so blessed to be, but I don’t really think the excitement changes much. There is just something so cool about being inside the stadium that brings with it the realization that this is the big time, 
and you are really there. These players are the pros, and you are watching them…and not on television. It seems surreal to most people that first time. Yes, you get used to it as you attend more and more games as time goes by, but I really don’t think any of us ever forget that first time…ever!!
Of course, as a Broncos fan, I still have to hope they win…sorry Xander. Still, I hope that both teams play amazingly well today…for Xander. I hope it is a good game, well played. I know that win or lose, Xander is going to have a day that he will never forget…an epic day…a day that will go down in the history of his life as one of the very coolest days ever.
When my girls were little, I didn’t work outside the home, but I did bowl quite a bit. At that time, the bowling alleys had a nursery for the children of the bowlers. It certainly made it easier to bowl if they didn’t have to find a babysitter or watch their children when they are trying to bowl. Needless to say, since I bowled quite a bit, my girls got used to those nurseries…eventually. There were a few rough moments in the early years, however. My younger daughter, Amy started going to the nursery when she was two years old, and since she was pretty little and walking, the other children thought she was a walking baby doll. They wanted to carry her around, and Amy…well, she didn’t like that one bit!! When I heard her screaming at the top of her lungs, I assumed that she had gotten hurt, so I went running to the nursery. When I got there and saw Amy calmly playing with the toys, I asked the nursery attendant what had happened, because I knew it was Amy that screamed. The attendant said, “Oh she’s ok…one of the other children just tried to pick her up!” That’s just not a good idea with a child who wants to be thought of as being as big as any other kid, and some of those kids who tried to pick her up were younger and yet bigger than she was, so she simply didn’t appreciate that at all. To my knowledge, that never happened again, but then would you try that twice if the cute little walking baby doll practically bit your head off? I think not!!
My oldest daughter, Corrie never had the problem that Amy did, because she wasn’t as short as Amy, and she started going to the nurseries at three instead of two. By this time, having been a mother a while, I had ways to rewarding the girls for good behavior. I’m sure some people would not agree with my methods, but I could take the girls to the store without them asking for everything in sight, simply by telling them that if they didn’t ask for anything while 
we shopped, they could have a candy bar when we were done. The same method was used in the nursery…if you stay until I’m done, you get a candy bar. One day as I was getting my things together, and my girls were the last ones in the nursery, the attendant brought them out to me. They were always excited when bowling was over, knowing that their candy bar was coming. This particular time, Corrie was very excited about her candy bar, and when she got to my bowling area, she immediately said, “Mommy, can I have $6.00 for a candy bar?” Well, I lost it!! I said, “Boy, that had better be one huge candy bar for $6.00.” Laughing the entire time!! Of course, the girls got their candy bars, and the good news is…I didn’t have to spend $6.00 for them.
Kids always seem to do things in grand style. They never start out small and work their way up once they have some experience under their belt. It doesn’t seem to matter what it is, they always do things in a big way. Of course, that doesn’t mean that the things they are doing will not be done well, just that they might be over-done to a degree.
My Uncle Bill and my dad were pretty handy with tools and building things, so when they set themselves to the task of building a home for their dog Shep, they felt confident that they knew what they were doing and that they could do a good job. They loved Shep and they wanted him to have a good home to live in. In their minds, maybe Shep was a bigger dog than he was in reality or maybe they just wanted his home to be roomy enough for him to be comfortable. Or, it could have simply been a matter of their calculations being a little bit off…Uncle Bill doesn’t really clarify that. Nevertheless, when the house was built, it was…well, grand!! It wasn’t that they lined it with gold or anything, but it definitely had a vaulted ceiling.
When their mother, my grandmother saw the dog house, she got such a kick out of it that he dubbed it the two story dog house. When you look at it, she was right. It looked like it had a loft in the upper area. Of course, in reality, Shep had a smaller dog house that looked really big on the inside. If any of the kids had wanted to spend the night out there with the dog, they probably could have stood up inside.
Looking back as young men, I’m sure they have all had a good laugh a time or two about that old dog house. These days, they would never have wasted the wood on such an extravagant dog house, especially since all that open space probably provided less warmth than a smaller dog house might have, but they were little boys, trying to do a good thing for their beloved dog. I am equally sure that Shep appreciated their efforts, and never told them about it…if the house felt cold due to the extra space.
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