tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-435542545096646350Sun, 12 Apr 2026 22:33:15 +0000James Peter McPherson's DiaryMy Mother's Photo Albums20162019Sunday SynopsisLife in Springdale WisconsinSepia Saturday20182011Folks in SpringdaleHarold McPhersonSusan McPherson2012201720132015Centennial History of SpringdaleFearless FemalesGail SigfordMcPherson HistoryJoan McPherson HillKEYESNancy McPhersonAgnes Laura KeyesLoise SigfordRuth SigfordSharing MemoriesRobert McPhersonAmanuensis MondayMcPhersonJames P. McPhersonWASPDogsFrank SigfordHosleyJames Peter McPhersonMarilynSpringdale Dane Co WI1 Place Study(Springdale WI)AirplanesCOGJoyce SigfordRuth McPhersonSigford History2010 Klamath County Museum Exhibit2014Burns FamilyCemeteriesDane County Poor FarmRalph's Letters1857Benton Co ORCabinKlamath CountyAdvent CalendarLake of the WoodsRichard A HillSurname SaturdayThe Jabezes18561858Clem SigfordJanuaryKlamath FallsTombstone TuesdayAdamsonAeronica L.Judith SigfordMary Burns McPhersonMcPherson FamilyObituaryPearl Beasley McPhersonSigfordSigford Familyweddings2020Agnes Aurelia KeyesBirthdaysBurmeisterDale CarlandElizabeth FossElizabeth Foss McPhersonFriday Face From the PastHouselJabez B. McPherson(b.1873)James Peter McPherson FamilyLois HillOlive LorraineRamona SigfordUncle Ralph's Letters1851Allen McPhersonFebruaryIrelandJABEZ Burns McPherson (b.1872)JGHJohn L McPhersonJuly.Kenneth SigfordKit CarsonMarchOctoberOrphan PhotographsRalph Jabez McPhersonRuss HillSarah Duty BrownStewartTheatersTommy Jansky Jr.Wedding WednesdayWilliam Burns McPhersonWilliam Gibson Burnsbooks185952 Weeks of GenealogyAprilAugustBertha ClouseBetty McPhersonCairncrossChartistClive McPhersonColldubhDNADoc and MeDundee ScotlandDutyFamilyFoss FamilyHorsesHoselyHungry HollowJabez Burns D.D.James Burns McPhersonJames E.L. KeyesJanice WilsonLarry EnosLeoneLessons from the Cookie JarLinda SigfordMary BurnsMidland Air ServiceMinnesotaMonday MadnessMt. Union CemeteryNew York CityNewtonNovemberPT-19PoetryRecipesRobert BurnsSharon K. HillSpringdaleSpringdale WISpringdale WeddingsStearman Bi-PlanesTennessee.Tombstone TuesdayTreasure Chest ThursdayTrucks and CarsValentinesVerona CemeteryWheeler Co.18501855186019221932198020104th of JulyAlexander Doran KeyesAwardsAxie RootBROWNBUTLERBentley AlbertaBerthaBill WilsonBrandtCalipatriaChristmas LightsChristmas treeingCourtshipDane CountyDaniel B. LesterDavid L KeyesDoc StoriesDonnellyErcoupeFiskeFoodFoyFoyeFriday's Faces From the PastGeorge StradtmanGladysGraduationsHenley SchoolsHildebrandHill FamilyHoliday RecipesHudson RiverIrene SigfordJabez Burns McPhersonJabez Burns McPherson (b 1847)Jabezes in My TreeJames Burns McPherson FamilyJames E. L. KeyesLouise Wilson AlterLoweryMargie McPhersonMarriage RecordsMcPherson Bros Air ServiceMcPhersons in BentleyMonicaNorwegian Settlers in SpringdaleOn Books and StuffOn ReadingPiper CubsRaftingRalphRanch YearsReligionRustySan DiegoSan Juan CapistranoScotlandSentimental SundaySeptemberSons of TemperanceStewart FamilyTelephonesThomas B. MilesUnknown photographsVerna McPhersonWDYTYAWWIIWardWasco CountyWilliam Jackmanbook: My Uncle Ralph Never Wrote to Melumber industrysawmills1841185418621895191819241930s1932 Olympics193819391950s19531960s20032013.2017. 186030154 Tommy Jansky Jr.44-W-350th Wedding Anniversary60th AnniversaryAbbottAdeline FossAgnes May McPherson FiskeAlaskaAlex BrownAlong The Way: Stories from Here and ThereAltamontAmelia EarheartAnderson CAAndew PetersonAshmoreAutomobilesAvenger FieldBarnstormersBaronof HotelBathing SuitesBeatBenton Co.Bethel VTBlairBlanche Osborn BrossBonazaBook ReviewBurmeistersBurns HistoryCalifornia. WisconsinCanal BoatsCaramelCayleigh CarlandCecil CarlandCessna BobcatCharles LindberghChildhoodChristmasChristmas Caroling Blog EventChristmas FoodChristmas VillageCivil WarCleona ClouseClothingComputersSepiaCongresssional Medal of HonorCooking Up MemoriesCornettCorvallis ORCrow Wing LakeDairyDancingDaniel LesterDavid Lowery Keyes house.DecemberDiane JohnstonDisasterDivinityDoranDrydenDundeeEire CanalElizabeth ?EnosErie CanalF.J.GehresFAGFTMDNAFamily Birthday PostsFamily HistoryFather's DayFerdinand FossFireFossFoss Family.FudgeGailGenealogyGenealogy ResourcesGlenGordonGowGrandchildrenGreat Lakes SteamboatsHand-Carved CrecheHatsHay HaulingHelen McPhersonHenley Elementary SchoolHenley High SchoolHenrietta E. McPhersonHistory of VeronaHolocaustHorse Water WyndHouse on Matney RoadHugh EdieInjuriesIowaJGHillJGHs MusingsJGMcHillJOHNSONJPMcP's DiaryJabez Burns McPherson (b. 1878)Jabez Burns-Coffee RoasterJacqueline CochranJame Peter McPherson Justice of the PeaceJames PJames P. BeardJames P. McPherson LettersJames Septimus McPhersonJanuary 2011.Joannie McPhersonJohn McDonaldJohn StewartJohn Ward KeyesJohn and Wm. CookJohnson Co TNJonathan Perry BrownJosh McPhersonJoyKayakKissing AuntiesKlamath County MuseumKlamath Indian AgencyKlevenville WIKlmath County ArmoryLarry BergmanLava BedsLetters to SantaLife MagazineLink RiverLink RiverCourtesyLittle BookletsLog CabinsLohffLoise andLove StoriesM.C. GlendenningM.W. Glendenning photographerMaloneMapsMargaret B. McPhersonMargaret DeBolt ChristianMargarete McGrath ArmstrongMay HollowayMcCordMcDonaldMcKenneyMcPherson schoolMcPherson-HaroldMedoraMerrill BondMichaelsonMimeographsMirandaMissouriMitchellMitchell homestead houseModel TMorigNew BlogNew YearsOdaraOdditiesOld Town PizzaOn WritingOregonOrena KeyesOrphan photographysOsage OrangeOsborne ComputerPearlPeggie Parker EcclesPercy DixonPeter Burns McPhersonPhilpottPine Grove SchoolPoetry.Pond MonkeysPretty GirlsPrincessQuincyRAHRVGS WorkshopRalph A. HillRalph McPhersonRobert BrandRobert D HillRogue ValleyRoy RogersRuttgersS.California tripSS OderSashaSchool DaysScotch LaneSears Wish BookSharing StoriesShooting deathsShoppingShoshoniSiblingsSiegfriedSnow and WinterSonSpringSpringdale SchoolsSpringdale politicsSpringfieldSteamboatsStories from Here & ThereSusan Ward KeyesTechnologyTennesseeThanksgivingThe DallesThe EncyclopediasThoughts and StuffTime LinesTommy Jr.Tommy JanskyToysTractors & TrailersTreasurechest ThursdayUmatillaVerona Dane Co WIVotingW.G.BurnsWIWedding WednesdaayWhite Pelican HotelWilliam dysartWinterWisconsinWisconsin Political HistoryWisconsin TripWisconsin weatherWm. McGaugheyWordless WednesdayWords n ImagesWorld War IIWritingZachary T. Keyesbanksbuildingscritique groupsearless Femalesfishingflax millsfourth of Julyoyster stewpoliticsriessnivelingsportssteeragesummer funthreshing and harvestingwater skiingweavershttp://rootsnleaves.blogspot.com/noreply@blogger.com (Joan)Blogger591125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-435542545096646350.post-7821992254546991965Fri, 18 Aug 2023 01:19:00 +00002023-08-18T12:03:18.881-07:00Agnes Laura KeyesDavid Lowery Keyes house.May HollowayMitchell homestead houseOn Books and Stuff<p>&nbsp;</p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"> <span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">My mother thought that reading was an escape from chores and that one must never read until all chores were done. As I child, and as an adult, I viewed my mother’s world as one in which chores were never done. If I settled down to read, she would find me and a chore list would materialize. So, I wasn’t a reader as a kid, but what I did read, or have read to me, had an interesting flavor to it. Horse stories, dog stories, a brief stint with Nancy Drew and Beverly Gray, and of course, readings from my grandmother’s Elocution book, and poets of the 17</span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;">^{<span style="font-style: normal;">th</span>}</span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">, 18</span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;">^{<span style="font-style: normal;">th</span>}</span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> , and 19</span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;">^{<span style="font-style: normal;">th</span>}</span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> century.&nbsp;</span></span></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.16in;"><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;"></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM5NtTIswB0c678HfZV9SdNpDXxgShsg00oiGeCWzqEarlI5mbTr0oBlSc_I9G4kzzDXDeKvdJo8nSZ1x9AQCjTvSzf33MtHzOCCT4o_E996ny-GPITS1VxiKYKsrAgdwXBam2TZla_vYSrNGdwyyNs99jjCpIo2KRGXAVkwG0vs3BH0ldd-Q8Iaqo2wY/s564/1916%20circa%20grandma.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="564" data-original-width="432" height="402" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM5NtTIswB0c678HfZV9SdNpDXxgShsg00oiGeCWzqEarlI5mbTr0oBlSc_I9G4kzzDXDeKvdJo8nSZ1x9AQCjTvSzf33MtHzOCCT4o_E996ny-GPITS1VxiKYKsrAgdwXBam2TZla_vYSrNGdwyyNs99jjCpIo2KRGXAVkwG0vs3BH0ldd-Q8Iaqo2wY/w308-h402/1916%20circa%20grandma.jpg" width="308" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0.08in; margin-top: 0.08in;"> <i>circa 1930 Agnes Laura Sigford, nee Keyes,</i></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0.08in; margin-top: 0.08in; text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Courtesy of J. G. Hill and Roots'n'Leaves Production.</span></i><i> <br /></i></p> </td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">&nbsp;</span></span> <p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="width: 8px;"> <colgroup><col width="8"></col> </colgroup><tbody><tr> <td style="border: medium; padding: 0in;" width="8"> <br /></td> </tr> <tr> <td style="border: medium; padding: 0in;" width="8"><p align="center" class="western"> <br /> </p> </td> </tr> </tbody></table>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">My grandmother, Agnes Laura Sigford, nee Keyes, would like to be remembered as in the above photo – elegant, slightly mysterious and mesmerizing. How</span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">e</span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">ver my memories of her was with </span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">her gray</span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> hair askew, wearing a </span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">simple homemade house dress</span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> covered by a large apron and surrounded with the whiff of freshly baked bread. Nonetheless, she was</span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"> </span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">my reading soulmate. At least, she had a great impact on what I read, and how I viewed reading.</span></span> <p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"> <span style="font-variant: normal;"> <span style="font-style: normal;">Agnes Laura Keyes was born and raised in the Mitchell area of Eastern Oregon, where the wind blew across the hills and gulches, according to my Grandmother, all the time, and grassy hills were often painted in hues of red, orange, green and blue. Now the area is known for its Painted Hills and fossil beds. It was a hash land, hot in the summer, cold and snowy in the winter, and a lovely spring was very shortly interspersed</span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">between the two. My Grandmother rode her horse to school as did most of the students, unless they lived close enough to walk to school. The schools were of the one-room vintage and scattered across the hillsides. Agnes Laura went to the Waldron School, which was a few miles </span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">north of their Mitchell homestead and a few miles</span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> south of the village of Richmond, which also had a school. One of the following photos is of “Pet’s school- Waldron.” Pet was the name by which Agnes Laura’s father called her, from the time she was a wee babe until his death. Unfortunately, the back of the photo did not name the students, but it looks to me like Agnes Laura is the </span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">3</span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;">^{<span style="font-style: normal;">th</span>}</span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> girl from the left in the back row. Her teacher, May Holloway, is standing 2</span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;">^{<span style="font-style: normal;">nd</span>}</span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> from the left in the back row. It is also likely, that the students include several of her brothers and sisters – </span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Allie, Olga, Ray, Philip, </span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Echo, and Inny</span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">.&nbsp;</span></span></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic9UrFc6IKWtJXMAE5ST8dyMHMGmzdKnUXQHOWpFoZMNK4zn1LDRmXcp60IKh5KdyIbI8M9luXz6oXFFL7zLf_TawqwMqC94oE3qA08ZFBYF3_JPvcUGV5RPkIcx8oHwikisr8LOYOMajSY993dlAvDMfgpqwCqLpQ7yg9iio4GoiqqAgQzUBK9MXTmi0/s2849/1896-circa-May%20Holloway-Agnes%20Keyes%20teacher%20at%20Richmond.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2266" data-original-width="2849" height="470" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic9UrFc6IKWtJXMAE5ST8dyMHMGmzdKnUXQHOWpFoZMNK4zn1LDRmXcp60IKh5KdyIbI8M9luXz6oXFFL7zLf_TawqwMqC94oE3qA08ZFBYF3_JPvcUGV5RPkIcx8oHwikisr8LOYOMajSY993dlAvDMfgpqwCqLpQ7yg9iio4GoiqqAgQzUBK9MXTmi0/w589-h470/1896-circa-May%20Holloway-Agnes%20Keyes%20teacher%20at%20Richmond.jpg" width="589" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><p style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0.08in; margin-top: 0.08in; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.16in;"><i> Circa 1895 photo was found on the back wall of a Mitchell cafe during a lunch <span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">on one&nbsp;</span></span></span></span></i></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0.08in; margin-top: 0.08in; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.16in;"><i><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Liberation Serif, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">of our treks to Mitchell</span></span></span></span>. What a treasure! A photo of my grandmother's teacher.</i></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0.08in; margin-top: 0.08in; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.16in;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Courtesy of J. G. Hill and Roots'n'Leaves Production.</span></i><i> <br /></i></p> </td></tr></tbody></table><p align="center" class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"> <br /> </p> <p class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiixnOTBY3ZX_VNC_ktfTMq1V0LLIUiX4WXEqNWpuIAThrgXZDRjaheMEBJYAu_pOI3kb3lDVTRbI1M3Bwqh_PivIwcFYty7xtiAEXQlNbzhqqby--HCGPSBfGsyzfj2Djh6XnU4NV66lxewvIruWLKtwCttDYEHe9lTXN_jascT6UxQWy7KQ8EZH_tU5s/s385/1895%20circa,%20Pet's%20school%20picture%20-cropped%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="297" data-original-width="385" height="387" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiixnOTBY3ZX_VNC_ktfTMq1V0LLIUiX4WXEqNWpuIAThrgXZDRjaheMEBJYAu_pOI3kb3lDVTRbI1M3Bwqh_PivIwcFYty7xtiAEXQlNbzhqqby--HCGPSBfGsyzfj2Djh6XnU4NV66lxewvIruWLKtwCttDYEHe9lTXN_jascT6UxQWy7KQ8EZH_tU5s/w502-h387/1895%20circa,%20Pet's%20school%20picture%20-cropped%20(2).jpg" width="502" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><p style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0.08in; margin-top: 0.08in; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.16in;"> <i>Circa 1895, Waldron School Picture.</i> <span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"><i>Although it is hard to tell, as Allie, Agnes Laura, Olga, and Echo are likely in this photo, i</i></span></span></span><i>t looks like Agnes Laura Keyes <span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">might be</span></span></span> the girl in white skirt standing 3rd from the right.&nbsp; Teacher May Holloway is standing far left.</i></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0.08in; margin-top: 0.08in; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.16in;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Courtesy of J. G. Hill and Roots'n'Leaves Production.</span></i></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0.08in; margin-top: 0.08in; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.16in;"><i>&nbsp;</i></p><br /><p style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0.08in; margin-top: 0.08in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p> </td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeFhKekNE5nuEEgYe3DqnNKOWzU8TML7_e_fsvXk4WzyeIWK5HjgL-yBgbPVjT6pGw6ulbRd6o26I1cCtDO6KpqqOUZrfoUDIbGjdEQ19EGRsriQvyXgjDLFDzdUwQ1wyjM2I0erh2FKUY32FJp6O1Mnp4k1uRok-2TOODMOpiaHYf2b_4WjzbFOzOLzk/s5861/1896%20%20JEL%20Keyes%20Family%20at%20Homestead.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5053" data-original-width="5861" height="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeFhKekNE5nuEEgYe3DqnNKOWzU8TML7_e_fsvXk4WzyeIWK5HjgL-yBgbPVjT6pGw6ulbRd6o26I1cCtDO6KpqqOUZrfoUDIbGjdEQ19EGRsriQvyXgjDLFDzdUwQ1wyjM2I0erh2FKUY32FJp6O1Mnp4k1uRok-2TOODMOpiaHYf2b_4WjzbFOzOLzk/w579-h500/1896%20%20JEL%20Keyes%20Family%20at%20Homestead.png" width="579" /></a></td></tr><tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption"><i> circa </i><i>1896</i><i>, The James E. L. Keyes homestead house. A treasure trove photo as most of the family is shown here</i><i> </i><i>.: James E. L, Sarah Ellen, Olga, Ray, Allie, Inny, Echo, Agnes Laura, David and Philip. May Holloway also boarded with the Keyes family in this home.</i><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Courtesy of J. G. Hill and Roots'n'Leaves Production.</span></i><i> <br /></i></td><td class="tr-caption"><i>&nbsp;</i></td><td class="tr-caption"><i>&nbsp;</i> </td></tr></tbody></table></td><td class="tr-caption"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"> </p><p class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"> </p><p class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"> </p> <p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0.08in; margin-top: 0.08in;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Agnes Laura caught the attention on the young teacher, May Holloway, who boarded with the Keyes family. She convinced Agnes Laura’s father, James E. L. Keyes to send the young girl to the Willamette Valley to finish her schooling. Agnes Laura could have gone to school in Salem or Corvallis or Philomath, all a far piece from the grass covered hills of eastern Oregon. </p> <p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"> <span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">The Keyes had relatives in Corvallis, Philomath, and Salem, so she could have been sent to stay with relatives and go to school in</span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"> </span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> Salem, Philomath, or even Corvallis.</span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"> </span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Agnes Laura was intelligent and quick to learn, and her memories of her schooling in the Willamette Valley stayed with her for all of her life. The following photo is a pen and ink drawing of the </span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Philomath </span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">home of Agnes Laura’s grandfather, David Lowery Keyes. He was born in Johnson County, Tennessee in 1822 and </span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">a grandson of Alexander Doran. He </span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">married Susan J. Ward, a granddaughter of Alexander Doran, </span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">on January 3, 1849. The couple and their first two son</span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">s</span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">, followed his older brothers, James and John to Oregon in 1852. Their travel took them to New York City from Tennessee, then by ship to the Isthmus of Panama, overland to the Pacific Ocean and up the coast </span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">by ship </span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">to Portland. It has been said that they traveled from Portland by boat along the Willamette River and its tributaries.</span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.16in;"> <br /> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgraFQpu3IjFgzaprbwLIuncb_kQQ9H010RR5W5YIdVfwIfKZk7Y9uULftIDhEKM1h8fqygUmzw7u5aI-HvbXvcjsZrzmOYwIRRBKEV16TCxVKoS0Ajqz7Y9_IhLgTIaFEbtA5Ld1fqPdLHvdwVMBwqf6-SPY86YnWUH94Eup1H_begvcuBnf6yq6_yPVA/s1813/1880s%20David%20L.%20Keyes%20Home-1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1288" data-original-width="1813" height="448" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgraFQpu3IjFgzaprbwLIuncb_kQQ9H010RR5W5YIdVfwIfKZk7Y9uULftIDhEKM1h8fqygUmzw7u5aI-HvbXvcjsZrzmOYwIRRBKEV16TCxVKoS0Ajqz7Y9_IhLgTIaFEbtA5Ld1fqPdLHvdwVMBwqf6-SPY86YnWUH94Eup1H_begvcuBnf6yq6_yPVA/w631-h448/1880s%20David%20L.%20Keyes%20Home-1.jpg" width="631" /></a><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Courtesy of J. G. Hill and Roots'n'Leaves Production.</span></i><i> <br /></i></td></tr></tbody></table><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgraFQpu3IjFgzaprbwLIuncb_kQQ9H010RR5W5YIdVfwIfKZk7Y9uULftIDhEKM1h8fqygUmzw7u5aI-HvbXvcjsZrzmOYwIRRBKEV16TCxVKoS0Ajqz7Y9_IhLgTIaFEbtA5Ld1fqPdLHvdwVMBwqf6-SPY86YnWUH94Eup1H_begvcuBnf6yq6_yPVA/s1813/1880s%20David%20L.%20Keyes%20Home-1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"></a></td></tr><tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption"><i>Circa 1880s, Pen and Ink drawing of&nbsp; house and farm of David L. Keyes, Agnes Laura Keyes' grandfather.&nbsp; </i><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Courtesy of J. G. Hill and Roots'n'Leaves Production.</span></i><i> <br /></i></td><td class="tr-caption"><i>&nbsp;</i></td><td class="tr-caption"><i>&nbsp;</i> </td></tr></tbody></table></td><td class="tr-caption"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></td><td class="tr-caption"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption"><i>&nbsp;</i></td><td class="tr-caption"><i>&nbsp;</i> </td></tr></tbody></table></td><td class="tr-caption"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><i>&nbsp;</i></td><td class="tr-caption"><i>&nbsp;</i></td><td class="tr-caption"><i>&nbsp;</i></td><td class="tr-caption"><i>&nbsp;</i> </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">&nbsp;&nbsp; Every summer my mother </span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">would bring her children to spend a week with my Sigford grandparents.</span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> I was about </span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">twelve</span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> years old when </span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">m</span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">y grandmother passed away, but I now realize the gifts that she bestowed upon me </span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">during those few short weeks</span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">. Grandmother Sigford (Agnes Laura) would open up her glass-fronted bookcase, which was hand-made by her only son Clemmon Russell, and carefully take out her treasured elocution book. By then, I may have been reading a sparse diet of horse and dog books, and later Nancy Drew and Beverly Gray books, but the book that I most remember is my grandmother’s elocution book. She took great pride in reading some of the passages to me in her best remembered elocution style.&nbsp; Elocution books of that era not only had “readings,” but a plethora of breathing, posture and voice exercises, in addition to a significant amount of gestures. I&nbsp; would sit at the kitchen table as she read to me. Later on, she would let me take out the elocution book and read to myself, or aloud to her, while she was cooking or baking. I remember feeling very grown up and worldly. My Grandmother liked to regale me with these elocution lessons. There were selections of poetry – I best remember the poetry of Emily Dickinson; also, excerpts from Shakespeare, and Henry James; and others which I no longer remember. I best remember carefully taking out the elocution book from the bookcase and being transported to another level of this everyday</span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"> </span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">world.&nbsp;</span></span></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">&nbsp;&nbsp;</span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeDXFwVM0b6UbfZ3ac8ULhIOoE2Oy3c__AFEDZps1zr2FgkUN6UwnbxtJw0AoFVHkfcKBVIElWauOWktjlDaAWexW9Ikxs2mYKDI6dWORFQK9l-5sSFvGq5XNSo3EZlRndwiWeb_iNblh9NP_3F6aAQhlc6grdfK-IDcj9hUqxbOuHb0PRRwQ2VwftUEY/s3074/Elocution%20Cover.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3074" data-original-width="1540" height="466" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeDXFwVM0b6UbfZ3ac8ULhIOoE2Oy3c__AFEDZps1zr2FgkUN6UwnbxtJw0AoFVHkfcKBVIElWauOWktjlDaAWexW9Ikxs2mYKDI6dWORFQK9l-5sSFvGq5XNSo3EZlRndwiWeb_iNblh9NP_3F6aAQhlc6grdfK-IDcj9hUqxbOuHb0PRRwQ2VwftUEY/w233-h466/Elocution%20Cover.jpg" width="233" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>An elocution book from the 1890's.</i><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Courtesy of J. G. Hill and Roots'n'Leaves Production.</span></i><i> <br /></i></td><td class="tr-caption"><i>&nbsp;</i></td><td class="tr-caption"><i>&nbsp;</i> </td></tr></tbody></table></td><td class="tr-caption"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table> </td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span> <p></p> <p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"> </p><br /><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"> <span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">My Grandmother Sigford gave me another view of reading. In 1945, for my mother’s 26</span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;">^{<span style="font-style: normal;">th </span>}</span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">birthday, my grandmother sent a book of poetry to her - </span></span><i>The Standard Book of British and American Verse, </i><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">which began with the 14</span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;">^{<span style="font-style: normal;">th</span>}</span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"> </span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">century poem, </span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;">“</span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">To Rosemounde, A Balade” by Geoffrey Chaucer (c. 1340 – 1400) and ended with the 19</span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;">^{<span style="font-style: normal;">th</span>}</span><span style="font-variant: normal;">^{<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> </span></span>}</span><span style="font-variant: normal;"> </span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">century verse, </span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;">“</span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Full Moon” by (Victoria Mary) Sackville West (1892 – 1962).&nbsp;&nbsp;</span></span></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="307" src="data:image/png;base64,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" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="409" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0.08in; margin-top: 0.08in;"> <i>My li<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">f</span></span></span>e long friend, The Standard Book of British and American Verse.</i></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0.08in; margin-top: 0.08in;"><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;"></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Courtesy of J. G. Hill and Roots'n'Leaves Production.</span></i><i> <br /></i></td><td class="tr-caption"><i>&nbsp;</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>&nbsp;</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;</td></tr></tbody></table><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;">T<span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">his book of poetry was an important piece of my life as I was the older daughter and a most unwilling dishwasher of dishes left from the evening meals. My mother would set her book of poetry on the window sill above the kitchen sink to better tempt me with completing my evening chore. That poetry book worked a miracle. I no longer hated doing the evening dishes. Instead, I would read poems aloud while I slowly, very slowly, washed</span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"> </span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">the dishes. </span></span> </p> <p class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"> </p> <p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"> <span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">The first poem I memorized</span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"> </span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">was Oliver Wendell Holmes’s “Old Ironsides,” probably because this was a poem that my Grandmother had my mother learn when she was about 10 years old. Mother had rather horrible memories, or so she said, of my Grandmother taking her from room to room in Mills Elementary School to present her poem. My guess that there was more to this story - perhaps it was a speech contest or other event or perhaps my Grandmother Sigford had performed this epic poem in her day. For whatever reason, “Old Ironsides” the first of my memorized</span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"> </span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">poem. It’s not the easiest poem to intone to a crowd, but I didn’t let a small thing like that stop me. Driving in the car, sitting along the lakeside or on the dock, trekking up a mountainside, I could and did launch, for decades, into Holmes’s words, “Aye, tear her tattered ensign down, Long it has waved on high, ….” So often I repeated these lines that Holmes penned, even my grandchildren learned these words. Even now, every once in awhile, the words of this poem will come to me unbidden.</span></span></p> <p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"> <span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">After memorizing “Old Ironsides,” I went on to other poets and poems – Chaucer, Robert Burns, Thomas Carlyle, Edgar Allen Poe, Tennyson, Robert Herrick, Percy Shelley and Alfred Noyes, to name a few. My early reading influences were of long gone eras. My role models in the reading world came out of my grandmother’s elocution book and the book of poetry that she gave to my mother. Indeed, my role models were writers of the 16</span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;">^{<span style="font-style: normal;">th,</span>}</span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> 17</span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;">^{<span style="font-style: normal;">th</span>}</span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">, 18</span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;">^{<span style="font-style: normal;">th</span>}</span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> and 19</span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;">^{<span style="font-style: normal;">th</span>}</span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> centuries.</span></span></p> <p class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"> MY grandmother also imparted the story of Madame X to my mother and I. I believe this reading came from her elocution book and my mother won first place with her reading of this old fashioned story in a speech contest. Years later, I too won a first with this reading.</p> <p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"> <span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">I didn’t think much about this peculiarity of reading materials. I just thought that was how everyone learned to read, until much later when a friend</span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"> </span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">in my writing group mentioned that I often had an old-fashioned way of speaking and writing. About the same time, whilst organizing some of my old books, I </span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">noticed</span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> an old (out of date) history book that had belonged to my husband’s grandfather – Will and Ariel Durant’s </span></span><i>The Story of Philosophy. </i><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">It was published in a hard-bound book in 1926 from a series of educational pamphlets. I did not read the book</span></span><span style="font-variant: normal;"> </span><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">in its entirety, but I did recognize that I was strangely comfortable with that old fashioned way of writing; embedded clauses ending with semi-colons that went on for entire paragraphs – lengthy paragraphs. Noteworthy, it has taken me years to weed out excessive punctuation and to get a cleaner my understandable writing form.</span></span></p> <p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"> <span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">My childhood history with books was rather sparse in number. However, the breadth of the world of words brought to me by my grandmother, Agnes Laura Sigford, nee Keyes, set a wide swathe for me to later follow in the world of books, stories and letters, albeit a tad old fashioned by today’s reading fashions. </span></span> </p> <p class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"> I traveled this path, mostly unknowingly, for the rest of my life.</p> <p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"> <br /> </p> <p align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> <span face="&quot;segoe script&quot;, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>~ ~ ~</b></span></span></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> <br /> </p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> &nbsp;<span style="font-size: x-small;">© Joan G. Hill, </span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Roots'n'Leaves </i></span><span style="font-size: x-small;">Publications </span> </p> <p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /> </p> <p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><span style="font-variant: normal;"><span style="font-style: normal;">&nbsp;</span></span> </p> <p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"> <span dir="ltr" id="Frame7" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border: medium; float: left; height: 2.84in; padding: 0in; width: 2.87in;"></span></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0.08in; margin-top: 0.08in;">&nbsp;<br /> </p><p></p> <p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"> </p> <p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"> <br /> </p>&nbsp;<br /><p align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0.08in; margin-top: 0.08in;"><i><span style="display: none;"><br /></span></i></p><br /><p align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.16in;"><br /></p><p align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p>http://rootsnleaves.blogspot.com/2023/08/on-reading-stories-books-and-my.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Joan)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-435542545096646350.post-526884674638806148Wed, 26 Jan 2022 01:06:00 +00002022-01-25T17:06:46.021-08:00Mary Burns McPhersonRobert Burns<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgNUwbL7FWxoC_0L_sto4Lmrxua2XpNscE0FaUDzrX-FcNGZJPWlp9_DLui5gxEZ147wGflD91mUfuNmcY-6prUYMw_hor2WFB2fKOre4Gz5--tT6PiwNLsKrbyTxLD9LmXfvoKwYF3k9vIhvixjaF90YWgBHubfr_KBn6c6hS88oOJFdXMz0sT5hPS=s960" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="611" height="621" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgNUwbL7FWxoC_0L_sto4Lmrxua2XpNscE0FaUDzrX-FcNGZJPWlp9_DLui5gxEZ147wGflD91mUfuNmcY-6prUYMw_hor2WFB2fKOre4Gz5--tT6PiwNLsKrbyTxLD9LmXfvoKwYF3k9vIhvixjaF90YWgBHubfr_KBn6c6hS88oOJFdXMz0sT5hPS=w396-h621" width="396" /></a></div><br />&nbsp;</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">&nbsp;</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; In November of 2010, I met a 2^nd cousin,1x removed, who told me that our Great-great grandmother Mary Burns (McPherson) was a cousin of Scotland''s bard, Robert Burns. She reverently unwrapped a small book, more like a pamphlet,&nbsp; to share with me. The little book had been in her family since the time of her grandparents, and probably belonged to our great-great-grandmother, Mary Burns McPherson. The occasion for this small book was the Centennial&nbsp; celebration of his birthday which was held in Minneapolis, Minnesota.&nbsp;&nbsp;</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">&nbsp;</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; In 1859,&nbsp; world wide, Scots gathered for Burns night to celebrate the Centennial of Burns' birthday.&nbsp; Throughout Scotland,&nbsp; in Australia, the United States,&nbsp; the British Empire, Scots gathered to share a Burns dinner of Haggis, neeps and tatties (turnips and potatoes) and&nbsp; recite a few lines from the ploughman bards poems and close with singing Auld Lang Syne.&nbsp; The Scots of Scotch Lane in the village of Springdale, Wisconsin, where my great great grandparents lived,&nbsp; were no different and took Rabbie Burns to their Highland heart.&nbsp;</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">&nbsp;</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Since that November day in 2010, I have poked and prodded my computer, a lookin' for connections in the heather that might span time and ocean and prove that this Scots heart of mine beats in family tune with that of our Rabbie Burns.&nbsp; No much luck has come my way, but still I search&nbsp; --- and in the coming days, I'll share with my McPherson family what few gems that I have picked up over the years.&nbsp;</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">&nbsp;</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp; And, now be we off to celebrate Burns night. <br /></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"> </div><p style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;"<b>Cuzin” Rabbie</b></p><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"> </div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">t'is a new year 'n month of January</div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">the time mi thoughts turn to Rabbie</div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">y'know, mi bard, young Rabbie Burns</div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">castin' sweet looks 'n words on a lassie</div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /> </div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">nights still long n' by flickering l'ght</div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">a book of Rabbie's poems I hold</div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">more close to mi heart as I am told</div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Rabbie's a cousin - tho generations b'ck</div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /> </div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">hi' words beck'n t'mi many a year</div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“wee sleekit, cowerin,' timorous beastie” </div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“O my luve is like a red, red rose”</div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">long been music to m' ear</div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /> </div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">tonight, I be cuzin-like</div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">wear'n mi plaid, 'n drink'n a pint</div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">wi' all list'n to yer words</div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">dream'n of heather 'n thistle down</div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; JGH</div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">&nbsp;</div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"> </div><br /> <div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">&nbsp;&nbsp; <span>~ ~ ~&nbsp;</span></span></b></span></span><br /></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span><br /><br /></span></span></b></span></span><p><span style="font-size: x-small;">© Joan G. Hill, Roots'n'Leaves Publications&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span></p> </div>http://rootsnleaves.blogspot.com/2022/01/an-update-from-2001-january-25-honoring.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Joan)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-435542545096646350.post-4797431301298894661Sun, 26 Dec 2021 18:12:00 +00002021-12-26T10:12:41.694-08:00oyster stew<p>&nbsp;</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiITTdWkZPF9fVFSNsQ0GId5Z9kaV66bvQZuxxrIkF4w_lw1flkbEjNsOkZN8H5w858q8tZ6eYUO7n6_yyR4-3iAzBfdZQ_JWm-P6Nx0rBqLuWuYrc18FKSpLYmxbFLRXILiqg5jvXp6kGVKeThdGibcEJTtGs7CeXMkjkBOGGXYesfn6N1azyzEwmq=s960" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="640" height="529" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiITTdWkZPF9fVFSNsQ0GId5Z9kaV66bvQZuxxrIkF4w_lw1flkbEjNsOkZN8H5w858q8tZ6eYUO7n6_yyR4-3iAzBfdZQ_JWm-P6Nx0rBqLuWuYrc18FKSpLYmxbFLRXILiqg5jvXp6kGVKeThdGibcEJTtGs7CeXMkjkBOGGXYesfn6N1azyzEwmq=w352-h529" width="352" /></a></div><br /><p></p><div><div class="" dir="auto"><div class="ecm0bbzt hv4rvrfc dati1w0a e5nlhep0" data-ad-comet-preview="message" data-ad-preview="message" id="jsc_c_98"><div class="j83agx80 cbu4d94t ew0dbk1b irj2b8pg"><div class="qzhwtbm6 knvmm38d"><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql lr9zc1uh a8c37x1j keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb d3f4x2em iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v b1v8xokw oo9gr5id hzawbc8m" dir="auto"><div class="kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q"><div style="text-align: center;">Eat Your Heart Out</div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">Short days. Cold nights. Milk heating in a pan. Add salt, pepper, a big dollop of butter, and the prized ingredient, oysters. Sharing a bowl of oyster stew with my dad was a special treat – only he and I liked this wondrous fare. </div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"> The oyster stew tradition in my house started after my 2008 post to my now defunct blog at <span><a class="oajrlxb2 g5ia77u1 qu0x051f esr5mh6w e9989ue4 r7d6kgcz rq0escxv nhd2j8a9 nc684nl6 p7hjln8o kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x jb3vyjys rz4wbd8a qt6c0cv9 a8nywdso i1ao9s8h esuyzwwr f1sip0of lzcic4wl gpro0wi8 py34i1dx" href="http://ancestry.com/" rel="noreferrer noopener" role="link" target="_blank">Ancestry.com.</a></span> Again, this year, my daughter Sharon and grandson Ryan, replayed this family lore of the oyster stew on Christmas, so it seems to be a good time to share an updated version of that original blog post. Enjoy, my McPherson clan.</div></div></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql lr9zc1uh a8c37x1j keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb d3f4x2em iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v b1v8xokw oo9gr5id hzawbc8m" dir="auto"><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q" style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;">Oyster Stew, A Tradition</div><div style="text-align: center;">By Joan G. Hill</div><div style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;</div></div></span></div><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql lr9zc1uh a8c37x1j keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb d3f4x2em iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v b1v8xokw oo9gr5id hzawbc8m" dir="auto"><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">Short days. Cold nights. My dad and I hovered near the stove as milk heated in the heavy pan. Just before the milk got a slick film on top, we added salt, pepper, a big dollop of butter, and then the prized ingredient, oysters. Those days are ingrained in my memory bank – a special bond between father and daughter.</div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">This image of food and memories was on my mind, when I decided to gather many favorite family recipes for a cookbook. Letters and phone calls went out to relatives. By Christmas, I was ready to publish and give my extended family a present of my book, Cooking Up Memories. </div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">I was surprised when a few days after Christmas, I started receiving calls from my father's family. “Daddy loved his oyster stew!” came the calls from McPherson aunties and cousins. This rather plain oyster stew recipe that I held so fondly turned out to be a family favorite not only of my father, but also my McPherson uncles, grandfather, and great grandfather. Unfortunately, the wives of McPherson men were not so fond of oysters, much less oyster stew, so the oyster stew tradition tended to die out – except for my memories.</div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">A few years later, I came into contact with McPherson kin scattered in Minnesota, Wisconsin, Missouri, Arizona, California and Oregon. Not only did stories of oyster stew tumbled forth from these far flung cousins, but the recipe was the same that my dad made. Some still clung to the tradition of oyster stew on Christmas Eve, while others merely told of that old Christmas tradition. One family even shared a recipe for old fashioned Scotch shortbread. Even though the family described a good use for the shortbread would be hockey pucks, they still made it to go along with their Christmas Eve fare of oyster stew.</div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">How did this fondness for oyster stew happen? When I read a wonderful book called, The Big Oyster, History on the Half Shell by Mark Kurlansky, the mystery opened up. Magnificent oyster beds abounded around New York harbors and estuaries as early as 10,000 B.C. When, in 1609, Henry Hudson gave up his search for the northern route for the fabled Northwest passage, he turned his ship, Half Moon, south towards warmer climes. As the ship sailed into what is now New York harbor and landed on Manhattan Isle, they were treated to the sweet smell of the island. At that time they did not know that the oyster, that wonderful bivalve, grew in such great numbers that the oysters processed and cleansed the entire New York estuary. What they rapidly found was that the oyster was a staple of the native Lenapes. Sailors, explorers, kings, nobles, and the poor would soon join the ranks of New York oyster lovers.</div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">As New York grew, so did it's collective love of the bivalve. Oysters were brought by the ship loads and sold right off of the docks as well as from street corner carts - rather like hot dogs, bagels, and tacos today. They were bought and consumed by rich as well as the poor. Workers, like my great great grandfather, went down to the docks with the pails to fill with oysters. Men went to the ale houses to have a pint as well as a few oysters. The rich dined on oysters at newly opened restaurants and oyster houses. The high roller Diamond Jim Brady and Lillian Russell, the beautiful lady often found on his arm, ate oysters by the dozens at New York's famed Delmonico's. Oyster recipes were jealously guarded by the rich. Up until the 20th Century, New Yorkers loved their oysters, and ate abundantly of the bounty of the surrounding sea.</div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"> Nineteenth century New York, noted for the best oysters in the world, was the milieu of my great great grandfather James Peter McPherson who came from Scotland in 1842. Eight years later, the New York tenements and teeming streets of immigrants began to feel like old Dundee, so my McPherson ancestor bundled his growing family onto a steamer. They traveled up the Hudson River, then by horse-drawn “canoe boats” through the Erie Canal to Buffalo, and through the Great Lake channels to Wisconsin. Not only did he take the love of oysters and oyster stew with him, New York oysters were being shipped near and far, even to the little Scots hamlet in Springdale, Wisconsin.</div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">And that is how my family of McPherson descendants came to love our oyster stew. Now on Christmas Eve, I enjoy my bowl of steaming oyster stew and revel in this old family tradition. </div></div></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql lr9zc1uh a8c37x1j keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb d3f4x2em iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v b1v8xokw oo9gr5id hzawbc8m" dir="auto"><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q"><div style="text-align: left;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; * * * * *</div><div style="text-align: left;">&nbsp;</div></div></span></div><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql lr9zc1uh a8c37x1j keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb d3f4x2em iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v b1v8xokw oo9gr5id hzawbc8m" dir="auto"><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q"><div style="text-align: center;">Daddy's Oyster Stew</div><div style="text-align: center;">(serves 1 adult and 1 child)</div></div></span><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql lr9zc1uh a8c37x1j keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb d3f4x2em iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v b1v8xokw oo9gr5id hzawbc8m" dir="auto"><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">Daddy heated a small pan of milk (about 1 ½ to 2 c milk) to scalding. Then added a can of oysters and simmered until the oysters were thoroughly warmed. He then seasoned it with 1-2 TBS butter, then added salt and pepper as desired. He served it with crackers. We enjoyed it immensely.</div></div></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql lr9zc1uh a8c37x1j keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb d3f4x2em iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v b1v8xokw oo9gr5id hzawbc8m" dir="auto"><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q"><div style="text-align: left;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <br />* * * * *</div></div></span></div></div></div></div></div></div><div><div class="stjgntxs ni8dbmo4 l82x9zwi uo3d90p7 h905i5nu monazrh9" data-visualcompletion="ignore-dynamic"><div><div><div><div class="l9j0dhe7"><div class="bp9cbjyn m9osqain j83agx80 jq4qci2q bkfpd7mw a3bd9o3v kvgmc6g5 wkznzc2l oygrvhab dhix69tm jktsbyx5 rz4wbd8a osnr6wyh a8nywdso s1tcr66n"><div class="bp9cbjyn j83agx80 buofh1pr ni8dbmo4 stjgntxs"><span aria-label="See who reacted to this" class="du4w35lb" role="toolbar"><span class="bp9cbjyn j83agx80 b3onmgus" id="jsc_c_9b"><span class="np69z8it et4y5ytx j7g94pet b74d5cxt qw6c0r16 kb8x4rkr ed597pkb omcyoz59 goun2846 ccm00jje s44p3ltw mk2mc5f4 qxh1up0x qtyiw8t4 tpcyxxvw k0bpgpbk hm271qws rl04r1d5 l9j0dhe7 ov9facns kavbgo14"><span class="t0qjyqq4 jos75b7i j6sty90h kv0toi1t q9uorilb hm271qws ov9facns"><span class="tojvnm2t a6sixzi8 abs2jz4q a8s20v7p t1p8iaqh k5wvi7nf q3lfd5jv pk4s997a bipmatt0 cebpdrjk qowsmv63 owwhemhu dp1hu0rb dhp61c6y iyyx5f41"></span></span></span></span></span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><span aria-label="See who reacted to this" class="du4w35lb" role="toolbar"><span class="bp9cbjyn j83agx80 b3onmgus" id="jsc_c_9b"><span class="np69z8it et4y5ytx j7g94pet b74d5cxt qw6c0r16 kb8x4rkr ed597pkb omcyoz59 goun2846 ccm00jje s44p3ltw mk2mc5f4 qxh1up0x qtyiw8t4 tpcyxxvw k0bpgpbk hm271qws rl04r1d5 l9j0dhe7 ov9facns tkr6xdv7"><span class="t0qjyqq4 jos75b7i j6sty90h kv0toi1t q9uorilb hm271qws ov9facns"><span class="tojvnm2t a6sixzi8 abs2jz4q a8s20v7p t1p8iaqh k5wvi7nf q3lfd5jv pk4s997a bipmatt0 cebpdrjk qowsmv63 owwhemhu dp1hu0rb dhp61c6y iyyx5f41"></span></span></span></span></span><div class=""><span class="tojvnm2t a6sixzi8 abs2jz4q a8s20v7p t1p8iaqh k5wvi7nf q3lfd5jv pk4s997a bipmatt0 cebpdrjk qowsmv63 owwhemhu dp1hu0rb dhp61c6y iyyx5f41"></span></div>http://rootsnleaves.blogspot.com/2021/12/2021-deceber-26-repost-of-oyster-stew.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Joan)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-435542545096646350.post-8650895481120021318Wed, 21 Apr 2021 02:36:00 +00002021-04-20T19:36:00.203-07:00DNADutyMcPhersonSigford<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; As I said, it's been a stumbling GenealogyDNA journey.&nbsp; Life gets in the way.&nbsp; Shingles happen.&nbsp; Family photos happen.&nbsp; MyHeritage animation photos happen....</p><p>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; So what did I learn in those early days of this DNA journey.&nbsp; Not much, or so it seemed, but then when I actually take a good look at the leads I found, the people that showed up, and the questions answered and unanswered, it's been one foot step at a time.</p><p>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Early on, I found that mtDNA wasn't too helpful for me and my search.&nbsp; Partly, because my knowledge base was so limited.&nbsp; Partly because I expected too much.&nbsp; However, I do know that my DNA "mother's" clan, so to speak, was that of Helena, as Bryan Sykes, one of the early DNA researchers, named her.&nbsp; Her clan of daughters is the largest and most widely spread throughout Europe- an early hunter-gather lady, born some 20,000 years ago.&nbsp; Those words didn't have much meaning for me when I received my first packet of information from FTDNA.&nbsp; An interesting bit of history, but no help in finding relatives or beating down brick walls.&nbsp; However, I was surprised at the number of Scandanavian names that showed up in my mother's haplogroup, but those names had little meaning for me.</p><p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I also joined, for a short time, a couple of DNA groups at my local genealogy center.&nbsp; Too advanced and not advanced enough for me., but I did gather a wider DNA vocabulary.</p><p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; About this same time,&nbsp; I had encountered several brick walls.&nbsp; One had to do with the lady I call Cherokee Elizabeth.&nbsp; She was my mother's great great grandmother, who married Henry T. Duty and traveled along the Trail of Tears, whether with the long procession of dispossessed tribes or not is unknown.&nbsp; Cherokee Elizabeth may have been Cherokee, Chickasaw, Choctaw or Creek, but family oral history has long been staunch that she was of of Native American heritage.&nbsp; My first DNA packet came back with no indication of Native American DNA in my sample.&nbsp; I could hardly believe the words on the paper, but I put the research into Cherokee Elizabeth's heritage aside for another day.</p><p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Another brick wall surrounded the ancestry of my maternal grandfather's ancestry.&nbsp; My grandfather, Frank Clemmon Sigford, often told his children that his father, Samuel Sigford, was born in Lower Augusta, Northumberland County, Pennsylvania.&nbsp; Years later, I came across a book, <i>The</i> <i>History of Northumberland County, Pennsylvania</i>, which noted the death of Samuel Levan Sigford and the legal&nbsp; settlement of his estate.&nbsp; Everything that I had been putting together about my Sigford grandfather's family seemed to fit. I thought I had hit the pay dirt -- gold in the sand.&nbsp; The names, ages, and family stories, but it was a rather shifting bed of sand.&nbsp; I thought it tied back to Johannes Siegfried/Siegfrit of Berks County, Pennsylvania, but I lacked that final tie in.&nbsp; Then I met a well known Siegfried researcher who dashed my hopes with ice water.&nbsp;&nbsp; "You should look elsewhere.&nbsp; Our Siegfried family have never been known by Sigford or Sigfrit."&nbsp; Even though one of Johannes Siegfried's early land purchases was clearly written Siegfrit.&nbsp; Once this German family traveled over the Allegehney Mts. they became much more difficult to track.&nbsp; No Bibles or letters left, no letters to kin on the other side of the mountains, just a few random stories that seemed viable.&nbsp; I knew that I would need DNA confirmation to make the tie to the Berks County folks.&nbsp; Unfortunately, my only male Sigford cousin was not at all interested and indeed died leaving no DNA sample.&nbsp; I am still working on getting male offspring of my Grandfather's nephews but not having much luck.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Research on back burner.</p><p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I thought my last brick wall would fold like a fan.&nbsp; My brother submitted his DNA to FTDNA.&nbsp; I had the 1800s marriage records of my McPherson great great grandfather, as well as his birth registration.&nbsp; We registered my brother's DNA in the McPherson Clan project.&nbsp; With all of my research they welcomed me with open arms into the group.&nbsp; Then, the DNA sample arrived and I received a nice letter, telling me that the Y-DNA sample came back with strong Irish ties.&nbsp; After a period of second guessing myself, questioning whether Peter McPherson was indeed the father of my great great grandfather James Peter McPherson,&nbsp; I settled down for the long haul.&nbsp;&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; What I knew.&nbsp; 1)The McPherson project through FTDNA was just over 300 members in 2017, and has now grown to 500 members.&nbsp; Not a huge sample. 2) The original Muirech brothers who became the McPherson clan (Son of the Parson) were indeed from Ireland. 3) I had always felt a bit sketchy about the Parish records about the marriage of Peter McPherson and Elizabeth Spink.&nbsp; In addition, James Peter's birth record was registered quite a while after his birth -- and the death of his father Peter.&nbsp; Nonetheless, this game is still in play.&nbsp; A fair amount to work with -- and with ever growing number of DNA samples submitted, that data becomes more rich.&nbsp; This research continues and the outcome will be what it is.</p><p>However, there were some bright spots in my early DNA journey.&nbsp; I reconnected with a few cousins and "cuzins" of one degree or another.&nbsp; The brightest spot was meeting up with the son of one of my favorite cousins, which would not have happened, except for the DNA connection.&nbsp; So stumbling along I did, but in retrospect, the pathway has always been forward.&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span>~ ~ ~ <br /></span></span></b></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;">© Joan G. Hill, Roots'n'Leaves Publications&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span></p><p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>http://rootsnleaves.blogspot.com/2021/04/my-stumbling-genealogydna-journey-part-3.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Joan)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-435542545096646350.post-7631952851269711166Sun, 21 Feb 2021 21:36:00 +00002021-02-21T13:36:33.446-08:00DNASiegfriedSigford<p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.66in;">&nbsp;<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWoOxht3B54Ezd5GS_jOZYFVowRTXGPbdaitAym5zo_VAQb_EP2y11AeJnrhefJ9j7wTXTR2dXDfItiwZ770inTtvL3YRAVduLMHeVxtZ29tSfb_Ms_aTk0bprjxQFvS7Dok_cZwYUZ6o/s256/1895+samuel-HR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="256" data-original-width="150" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWoOxht3B54Ezd5GS_jOZYFVowRTXGPbdaitAym5zo_VAQb_EP2y11AeJnrhefJ9j7wTXTR2dXDfItiwZ770inTtvL3YRAVduLMHeVxtZ29tSfb_Ms_aTk0bprjxQFvS7Dok_cZwYUZ6o/w374-h640/1895+samuel-HR.jpg" width="374" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">1895, Samuel Sigford<br />b. 1818, Lower August, Northumberland county, PA<br />d. 1896, Mt. Morris, Waushara County, Wisconsin<br /><i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Courtesy of the Archives of Joan Hill and Roots and Leaves Publishing</span></i></span><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In the early 2000s when I was digging deeper into my maternal genealogy.&nbsp; Not long after, I became aware that DNA was probably going to be my only hope of putting a “yea” or “nay” on the connection of my mother’s paternal family. Her father. Frank Sigford,&nbsp; always told of his father, Samuel Sigford, being born in Lower August, Northumberland county PA, left home to sail the Great Lakes, and that he married three sisters (not at the same time). I was able to confirm the marriages and deaths of the older two sisters, and the marriage of the third, younger sister, who was my great great grandmother.&nbsp; A cousin's family has Samuel's sea chest. I also found an old book through RootsWEB and the Northumberland Historical Society on Northumberland county, which tells of the Samuel Levan Sigford/Sigfried family (the father of my grandfather’s father), the disposition of his estate and some details of the life of the his wife and children after his death.&nbsp;</span></span></p><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.66in;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The names of the father and mother (parents of my grandfather's father) appear to be connected to a rather well-known Mennonite German family in Berks county. However, I have never been able to connect the two families. There are lots of genealogy trees of this large family (and each son tended to name their sons with the names within the family, which made a huge web of the same names). Family researchers of this family are prolific, but sometimes the histories are not always consistent.&nbsp; The&nbsp; history of this family in America&nbsp; goes back to the early 1700s, nearly 300 years ago. Early grave stones were rocks on a hillside, unengraved.&nbsp; Names changed, even on legal documents. So the spelling of the name might have been the old Germanic name or a more&nbsp; phonetic name.&nbsp; Some of the handwriting was difficult to read, even then, and one has to add in the fact that the German speaking folks were sometime not well understood by English speaking neighbors and towns people. All of these factors led to a&nbsp; conundrum for this researcher in rural southern Oregon.</span></span></p><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.66in;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Well-known researchers within this family assured me that the connection was impossible.&nbsp; There are a number of family trees on the web that have a connection to one or another related families, but not always discernible to me&nbsp; The resulting fuzziness of the roots of my grandfather's family has put my research far away on the back burner.&nbsp; Nonetheless, the tales of&nbsp; my great grandfather Samuel Sigford being born in Lower Augusta, Northumberland county of Pennsylvania, continue to keep this research bubbling away.<br /></span></span></p><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"> </span><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.66in;"> <span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I spent several years trying to convince my only male Sigford cousin to submit his Y-DNA to Family Tree DNA (FTDNA). FTDNA has a number of family name projects, including the old Siegfried family.&nbsp; I told my cousin about the Y-DNA being the unbroken link from father to son, to son, to son..., and how important my cousin's DNA was to answering the question&nbsp; of whether we were connected to the Siegfried family from Berks county, Pennsylvania.&nbsp; I offered to purchase the kit, but he, nor his wife, ever responded to my numerous requests before they both passed away.&nbsp;&nbsp; Now I am left with trying to track male descendants from my great great grandfather’s line, which has been a hit and miss endeavor.&nbsp; My grandfather's stories point to a connection with this old Mennonite German family, but I believe to have an absolute answer, we will need a Y-DNA sample from my Sigford/Sigfrit line to compare with verifiable samples of the&nbsp; older Siegfried line from Berks county, Pennsylvania.&nbsp; Time, and a Y-DNA sample from our line,&nbsp; will likely yield a "yea" or a "nay"&nbsp; to this long standing question.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span></span></p><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.66in;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Unfortunately,&nbsp; patience is not my strong suit.<br /></span></span></p><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.66in;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="font-size: medium;">&nbsp;&nbsp;</span></span> </p><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"> </span><p><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">&nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <span>~ ~ ~&nbsp;<br /><br /><br /></span></span></b></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;">© Joan G. Hill, Roots'n'Leaves Publications</span></p><br />http://rootsnleaves.blogspot.com/2021/02/my-stumbling-genealogydna-journey-part-2.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Joan)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-435542545096646350.post-5541208111929658231Sat, 20 Feb 2021 21:03:00 +00002021-02-20T13:03:50.117-08:00DNAFTMDNA<p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.66in;"> <span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">&nbsp;</span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmn4lPPvuxjRSuOHbEwkdcnA52p8vJlL7o-vuUDRpmTaK9GAj9CwNlmXJ75bwmPn8arvc3g_X_xwZbGUvNrn6Tepb2tve2ni8D5YraqOpkDtJegw0do9VdY_WNdgndo9qNDULg-4f99UQ/s300/DNA.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="300" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmn4lPPvuxjRSuOHbEwkdcnA52p8vJlL7o-vuUDRpmTaK9GAj9CwNlmXJ75bwmPn8arvc3g_X_xwZbGUvNrn6Tepb2tve2ni8D5YraqOpkDtJegw0do9VdY_WNdgndo9qNDULg-4f99UQ/w640-h358/DNA.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.66in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">&nbsp;</span></span></p><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.66in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">My DNA journey began on 2007 September 29, when I ordered a test kit from Family Tree DNA. This was in the early days of DNA being used by the genealogy folks, and I anxiously awaited the test results. Finally the packet arrived from FTDNA. I had hoped for great insights and new information. I probably still have that original packet filed away someplace. Where I thought I would find new insights and genealogy clues, there were only hunks of letters. <i>ACTG</i>. I had no idea what this onslaught of letters meant. My eyes glazed over. Then there were sheets of paper describing the DNA migration, which was interesting, but of little help to me with my then current level of knowledge and understanding. </span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></span><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.66in;"> <span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The packet also included my ethenicity background. Not the revelations for which I awaited. I knew about the English (Irish and Scots), French and German. Even the Scandinavian wasn’t a surprise, given the history of the English isles. I was looking for the verification of the old family story of the Indian heritage of my maternal great-great grandmother. The DNA packet came back with no indication of Indian heritage – no Cherokee, no Creek, no Chickasaw, no Choctaw DNA to be found. Even though the oral history was strong, at least in some of my great great grandmothers offspring, I put this line of research on the back burner of active research – but kept alive, to some extent, by the stories told by my mother, aunts, and grandmother.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></span><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.66in;"> <span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">For the next decade, I continued to get “You Have a New Relative” notices from FTDNA. These were all from mtDNA sample that I submitted. These too made my eyes glaze over. None of the names were known to me. A great many names were Scandinavian. I had no idea what to make of the barrage of apparent relatives. Notices came, quickly reviewed, at least for a while, and soon forgotten. As time went on, I found that I checked “notices” only sporadically. Making a quick review of what had come in during the last 3 to 6 months.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></span><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.66in;"> <span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">During this same time period, I also received boxes of letters written by my father’s oldest brother, who was next to the oldest in the family. He chronicled his memories and stories of his family when he was growing up in Wisconsin, Minnesota and California – and even of adult happenings in California and Oregon. He also gave me an "everyman" view of the 1980s. &nbsp; As I checked out his stories, I found that he was remarkably accurate, so his letters were transcribed and became my third book.&nbsp; A history for family members and one of my research tools. </span></span> </p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></span><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.66in;"> <span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">After the book was finished, I started tracking down a diary that was kept by my paternal great great grandfather. Two years later, after many emails and “cold calls” to potential family members, I finally connected with a 2^nd cousin, once removed, who lived in Wisconsin. We both shared lineage from our Scots McPherson ancestor, a great great grandfather. Another year was spent figuring out how to get a copy of the diary. Finally, in 2010, I made a trip to Wisconsin and met with a group of “cousins” to share photographs, letters, and the diary. We spent 3 days, t<span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">elling family stories, as well as, </span></span> photographing and copying our trove of treasures. Each of us came away with the conglomerate of photos, letters, and a photographed copy of the diary.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></span><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.66in;"> <span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">What does this mean for my DNA journey? I was diving headlong into my paternal genealogy and my mtDNA was not useful. I needed the Y-DNA, which is passed down from father to son, <i>ad infinitum</i>. My father had died when I was a teenager, so I only had my two brothers who carried his Y-DNA. One brother absolutely refused. However the older of the two graciously provided his DNA which was submitted to FTDNA and included in the McPherson/MacPherson project. When we joined this genealogy project in January 2018 , there were not quite 300 members. Now just three years later, the project membership has grown to 523. Not a huge data base, but growing.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></span><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.66in;"> <span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Although the results of <span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">my brother’s</span></span> DNA did not open as may doors as I had hoped, I know that as the data base keeps growing and our store of DNA knowledge keeps expanding more doors get opened. Every time I get a notice about a new Y-DNA relative, I give thanks to my brother, as my knowledge of physical and historical family ties,&nbsp; history of the British isles , and the world <br /></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">expands</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">,&nbsp; via the opening of the&nbsp; new vistas provided by DNA research.</span></span></p><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.66in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <span>~ ~ ~&nbsp;<br /><br /><br /></span></span></b></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;">© Joan G. Hill, Roots'n'Leaves Publications</span></p>&nbsp;<p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.66in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">&nbsp;</span></span></p><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.66in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></p><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.66in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></p> http://rootsnleaves.blogspot.com/2021/02/my-stumbling-genealogydna-journey-part-1.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Joan)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-435542545096646350.post-4219153038088041293Sat, 19 Dec 2020 02:08:00 +00002020-12-19T11:29:48.853-08:00Christmas LightsChristmas VillageRuth SigfordSusan McPherson<p>&nbsp;</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin6ehsIA-PtV5fKf9eYC55WvwDtAsQJ0aP5hvXiUe_xVVzsK7TNS09PELETCSCHFO4J2iIvB9M3hXVEobdTbuDvpnwtjZ7vczYQM76OVRbP3oBcw-5JiUskyh7gPnSu2BfX1Zl4VCZ97Y/s2048/SDC11323.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="391" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin6ehsIA-PtV5fKf9eYC55WvwDtAsQJ0aP5hvXiUe_xVVzsK7TNS09PELETCSCHFO4J2iIvB9M3hXVEobdTbuDvpnwtjZ7vczYQM76OVRbP3oBcw-5JiUskyh7gPnSu2BfX1Zl4VCZ97Y/w521-h391/SDC11323.JPG" width="521" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgypq7jMxxU3DrKfZHTVwsXbW8s-RIhtx84ANCyfzSXlLVtsgMmk7qvdMEUxXZCKvbslI3vTzlVzDoR3jI5YfhFiS7VccEGMsVqpQnc72DQ1QOpGEFz61OfSLknxQFY9R48Esow0SNA9Y4/s2048/SDC11322.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="401" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgypq7jMxxU3DrKfZHTVwsXbW8s-RIhtx84ANCyfzSXlLVtsgMmk7qvdMEUxXZCKvbslI3vTzlVzDoR3jI5YfhFiS7VccEGMsVqpQnc72DQ1QOpGEFz61OfSLknxQFY9R48Esow0SNA9Y4/w534-h401/SDC11322.JPG" width="534" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>&nbsp;</p><p align="center" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"> Outdoor Decorations-1. The Village</p> <p align="center" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /> </p> <p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.7in;"> I usually started putting up my outdoor Christmas decorations about the week after Halloween. The weather was usually comparatively warm and it usually took nearly three weeks to complete the task. For me, the first order of decoration was to put up my Christmas village. A task that evolved over the years. </p> <p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.7in;"> The first Christmas village that I bought was just a little, lighted,&nbsp; white plastic collection of about six Alpine houses and a church. The houses were about 3”x3”x3” and the church was about 3”x4”x4”. It was a small set – and cheap, but I was quite fond of it. It graced our homes at WSU, Hillsboro, and Ashland for several years. When we moved to the house on the Hill, Doc put up a hanging platform on our front deck and the little village spent the Christmas seasons on the deck for several more years.&nbsp; I have looked for photos of this little plastic village, but there appear to be none.&nbsp; Sad.</p><p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.7in;">&nbsp;</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc1eX-FswgoCmyQTQOEpYNbq8wr3TKIHthH3z144zl0CNVw6OjO9M_uv3g68zS4ckAZPOq6p2-UOEYAW8eWwcq98f9RwOUrUF__R-X_x1Rcs6k1uMsXxdwrsq_TiHFck6ivAbcLrYmzDY/s2048/SDC11324.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="326" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc1eX-FswgoCmyQTQOEpYNbq8wr3TKIHthH3z144zl0CNVw6OjO9M_uv3g68zS4ckAZPOq6p2-UOEYAW8eWwcq98f9RwOUrUF__R-X_x1Rcs6k1uMsXxdwrsq_TiHFck6ivAbcLrYmzDY/w434-h326/SDC11324.JPG" width="434" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibG5ew3fpGaE8iLmmKKXXyTjw4GowZ_0iOlCQ1PbuZsBkz-Ic4w1G_HQySXykaNyrNal8ac35O9awn0Blb-mRKq3mFjQU7APUJBirWK_0MwCygo4VC9oNFu_tCv88kXVCO89bAdO4Qvto/s2048/SDC11326.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibG5ew3fpGaE8iLmmKKXXyTjw4GowZ_0iOlCQ1PbuZsBkz-Ic4w1G_HQySXykaNyrNal8ac35O9awn0Blb-mRKq3mFjQU7APUJBirWK_0MwCygo4VC9oNFu_tCv88kXVCO89bAdO4Qvto/w437-h328/SDC11326.JPG" width="437" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkmyjRdZldZIMdyIrOwM9tNJt952918XtC4yHSZdkjahpVdOJUJJl4iDvSXUnY4YUVBAnIx-jrUk_EHe9Ll9Po6DSImJoFBqD3ujXvwioMZVYew5i8OneF5TBLwikKc4EBI3Cj3fDE0kM/s2048/SDC11325.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="325" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkmyjRdZldZIMdyIrOwM9tNJt952918XtC4yHSZdkjahpVdOJUJJl4iDvSXUnY4YUVBAnIx-jrUk_EHe9Ll9Po6DSImJoFBqD3ujXvwioMZVYew5i8OneF5TBLwikKc4EBI3Cj3fDE0kM/w433-h325/SDC11325.JPG" width="433" /></a></div><br /><p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.7in;"><br /></p> <p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.7in;"> Then I found the lovely David Winter Dickens Christmas houses, and every year for five years I purchased a dated house, Old Joe’s Beetling House, Belle’s Cottage, Fred’s home, The Ebeneezer Scrooge Family Home, and Mistger Fizzywig’s Emporium. For a few years, I had a combination of the little white plastic village houses, David Winter Houses, and Dept. 56 Dickens Christmas houses, which resided on a white “snow” covered background on the hanging platform. Doc also cut out a mountain-scape for a background of my village. More lights went up and the village was starting to take shape.</p><p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.7in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs1DW3PxCuljFztHlnfmd1Psk0qGaMa2b2UHtaZA-6NzKirkEc-jMiKP14RX-uX7as8S_6kSWtOFyrpqGPdeHv106reizssdg6vOjNutCbngCqkE4tafyb_-oM1LH2vwxEma0vKufaBpM/s2048/SDC11326.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="326" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs1DW3PxCuljFztHlnfmd1Psk0qGaMa2b2UHtaZA-6NzKirkEc-jMiKP14RX-uX7as8S_6kSWtOFyrpqGPdeHv106reizssdg6vOjNutCbngCqkE4tafyb_-oM1LH2vwxEma0vKufaBpM/w435-h326/SDC11326.JPG" width="435" /></a></div>&nbsp;<p></p> <p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.7in;"> About that time, I found that Dept. 56 had a snowy river set – straight pieces and curved piece – so that I could make a winding river flow through my Christmas village. Ponds, bridges and water falls were added, along with an ever growing number of little Dickens people that strolled the “brick” pathways.&nbsp; I made hills for some of the houses, all draped with a “snowy” backdrop. I finally had enough Dept. 56 houses, and other houses so that I moved my David Winters houses inside for interior decoration, but the little white plastic village usually was situated up along the mountain-scape, as though it were a far away alpine village. That little village took its place for nearly thirty years in my decorating scheme.</p> <p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.7in;"> In about 1998, I had knee surgery so my Sis put up the village for me. She groused about how much time it took to put up the village. </p> <p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.7in;"> My mother wryly commented, “Well, Joannie likes putting up the village as much as she likes have the village up – maybe more.”</p><p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.7in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJeD0cDFJVGZDZNfUEJ5215mcBzTA0mcIpcU5bRHQr8bpYi27oWM-hggctjkhjQnjhs6LFAYjh5vGqv6MV165sz7MmCCRC0ojY2xDGmRs1PDvpJfVtnmOManlq1vLGzsKNajokiT5GSlI/s2048/SDC11327.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="332" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJeD0cDFJVGZDZNfUEJ5215mcBzTA0mcIpcU5bRHQr8bpYi27oWM-hggctjkhjQnjhs6LFAYjh5vGqv6MV165sz7MmCCRC0ojY2xDGmRs1PDvpJfVtnmOManlq1vLGzsKNajokiT5GSlI/w442-h332/SDC11327.JPG" width="442" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkNbJKKtVNtWCX1XoM8LYnlKE4yomE_cWHwSYVzGCL55cfzg5FxjoBdL1iKvhuYETdI3y14y7C4NPA7TD1dITL9slWrpjiScGFNhvgNrnZxVEkotSOnNCsJgxAsjhcVAW3uGfSXiCeI2I/s2048/SDC11329.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="332" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkNbJKKtVNtWCX1XoM8LYnlKE4yomE_cWHwSYVzGCL55cfzg5FxjoBdL1iKvhuYETdI3y14y7C4NPA7TD1dITL9slWrpjiScGFNhvgNrnZxVEkotSOnNCsJgxAsjhcVAW3uGfSXiCeI2I/w442-h332/SDC11329.JPG" width="442" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><p></p> <p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.7in;"> That was certainly a true statement. I have always loved little villages and house, starting with the hand-crafted houses made of cardboard from laundered shirts.&nbsp; David Zuckerman made those for me when I was about four years old.&nbsp; So,&nbsp; I did indeed love putting the Christmas village up every year, and family and friends also seemed to like it as well.</p><p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.7in;">&nbsp;</p><p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.7in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ0Zd5ywTtk54C6BERDB-lMj2-3o0BOReLUpNCLDIVbcuaEQgiiRbHgjdqlsUQDO5sQag8fzV924uhpTxlxYPBT9aXaiMqF5mI8Jnq5v9MO9Mqepxwy0JlnKt5qo2DmnkPoFHXoYoY2yw/s2048/SDC11328.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="344" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ0Zd5ywTtk54C6BERDB-lMj2-3o0BOReLUpNCLDIVbcuaEQgiiRbHgjdqlsUQDO5sQag8fzV924uhpTxlxYPBT9aXaiMqF5mI8Jnq5v9MO9Mqepxwy0JlnKt5qo2DmnkPoFHXoYoY2yw/w458-h344/SDC11328.JPG" width="458" /></a></div>&nbsp;<p></p> <p>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<b><span style="font-size: large;"> <span>~ ~ ~&nbsp;<br /><br /><br /></span></span></b></p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;">© Joan G. Hill, Roots'n'Leaves Publications</span></p>&nbsp;http://rootsnleaves.blogspot.com/2020/12/2020-christmas-memories-20201218.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Joan)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-435542545096646350.post-3220819050250873397Tue, 15 Dec 2020 20:59:00 +00002020-12-19T11:30:21.973-08:00Gail SigfordHand-Carved CrecheRichard A Hill<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The Hand-Carved Creche</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">&nbsp;</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg17Ici5CjfXUhw4oMmG3cBnmLJkKyBKWhia_ehd4VTMbBQzvih2dtmo1g5UWHyS_zznlNy_2YLSZVbOxILcKkhZvYB0yTB5fVUB1ohAozatwsccDx7bmEGfG8704FbxaUbEpXuXupcLKg/s1984/S4020413.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1068" data-original-width="1984" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg17Ici5CjfXUhw4oMmG3cBnmLJkKyBKWhia_ehd4VTMbBQzvih2dtmo1g5UWHyS_zznlNy_2YLSZVbOxILcKkhZvYB0yTB5fVUB1ohAozatwsccDx7bmEGfG8704FbxaUbEpXuXupcLKg/w560-h301/S4020413.JPG" width="560" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />&nbsp;</span><br /><p></p><p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.7in;"> In about 1955, I bought a Christmas edition of the <i>Better Homes and Garden</i> magazine. There were lots of good Christmas crafty stuff in it, but the one that caught my eye was the patterns for the hand-carved Creche set. I took the magazine over to my Aunt Gail’s, at that time she was living in the old Zuckerman cookhouse and keeping books for the farm, to see what she thought of the plans for the Creche. Gail was the family artist. In those days she dabbled in drawing, pottery, and a bit of wood carving, and later became a serious artist and received her MFA at the University of Oregon. She looked at me askance, knowing that I had no aptitude for artistic endeavors, though I had an immense amount of enthusiasm. She finally said that she would help Ric and I get started on the Creche.</p> <p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.7in;"> <br /> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbcYvuWRtOk6Ks84h7Jy-d6X_rtBHOF8HtM1AqarOPiXUkUseln3xiFCmN7MYF-0FYf2BnQVUEtGxa2DqpFaWajzCuUSvFFDz9AKxUWQ0dDNlBRKN9wP5TiCVKq52UsPo8yrBdZGm5iyI/s1784/S4020416.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1380" data-original-width="1784" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbcYvuWRtOk6Ks84h7Jy-d6X_rtBHOF8HtM1AqarOPiXUkUseln3xiFCmN7MYF-0FYf2BnQVUEtGxa2DqpFaWajzCuUSvFFDz9AKxUWQ0dDNlBRKN9wP5TiCVKq52UsPo8yrBdZGm5iyI/s320/S4020416.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /> <p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.7in;"> About a year or so ago, I finally threw out the magazine and the hand drawn patterns that we had made some 60 years ago. However, I know that we had drawn plans for Mary, Joseph, the Babe, and the three Kings. Gail also drew up the plans for the cow, donkey and a sheep. The three of us cut out the rough form for Mary, Joseph and the Babe from chunks of 2”x4” pine. Gail roughed out the Babe and Mary and began teaching me about wood carving. She did most of the carving for the Babe, and some on the Mary figure, and then turned those two over to me to finish – with her guidance. Ric did most of the work on Joseph and a King, and later shepherds, sheep, an more donkeys. Gail made the largest and most difficult of the Kings, as well as the cow and the first donkey. Those three pieces are still my favorites, even though in the last 65 years,&nbsp; the donkey has lost a leg and the cows horns are in disrepair. Ric later added another donkey and some sheep, as well as a couple of shepherds. </p> <p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.7in;"> <br /> </p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA5w7tWlljSNUDOume2Y4QqbqeHvZTqW-DDeMhCPZgHfSqIy5I5-4O-cQnBF9zi1VXbC-BlWQTk7-_wYZb5TlRpx8aFXGFpa3h070_Rq1gfBm8kpVbK3CWcUIeRrXXRgz37bSX0juz-s0/s2048/S4020421.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA5w7tWlljSNUDOume2Y4QqbqeHvZTqW-DDeMhCPZgHfSqIy5I5-4O-cQnBF9zi1VXbC-BlWQTk7-_wYZb5TlRpx8aFXGFpa3h070_Rq1gfBm8kpVbK3CWcUIeRrXXRgz37bSX0juz-s0/s320/S4020421.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsRsqBF24zQVGDZNzZqrxNvJdqujpuvrnorvlauypYGtPvQ-dG58QDNhSWqicRXSG90er-sFwqpy_MKRQVRjJygOOtpmG8evU8oCVIqBRbTF4FlDdUuChTfzt-9JsIcDch6gHB8-XbmjI/s2048/S4020418.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsRsqBF24zQVGDZNzZqrxNvJdqujpuvrnorvlauypYGtPvQ-dG58QDNhSWqicRXSG90er-sFwqpy_MKRQVRjJygOOtpmG8evU8oCVIqBRbTF4FlDdUuChTfzt-9JsIcDch6gHB8-XbmjI/s320/S4020418.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTieCeAgBvMLCWaMbZMe0AtS8Yh4eFrgDpo24OsPDOI6fRyqCGOmP6SpmJeWLyfmj8Zz7ge3cfSJQUWVS-x4-BL3HWuxYjueymP9JdsN2RNRiNrIEtkRc54W3FNiS5A-ijeYe9zciN3Nc/s2048/S4020419.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1254" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTieCeAgBvMLCWaMbZMe0AtS8Yh4eFrgDpo24OsPDOI6fRyqCGOmP6SpmJeWLyfmj8Zz7ge3cfSJQUWVS-x4-BL3HWuxYjueymP9JdsN2RNRiNrIEtkRc54W3FNiS5A-ijeYe9zciN3Nc/s320/S4020419.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiormY87hYy29P6GUcNX3Pw_pgH6Fx633vi9FKCGoLp4kBv76QUK9asrmahVkiJUhcRIfhdzeSmY11T0bvFGoj__DJoXUU8SO3WNkPzZ8RTB1xzXFCapr93Lw0bsAYYXSYn50zEO50ffJg/s1916/S4020420.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="816" data-original-width="1916" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiormY87hYy29P6GUcNX3Pw_pgH6Fx633vi9FKCGoLp4kBv76QUK9asrmahVkiJUhcRIfhdzeSmY11T0bvFGoj__DJoXUU8SO3WNkPzZ8RTB1xzXFCapr93Lw0bsAYYXSYn50zEO50ffJg/s320/S4020420.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6-pMENkWbLpfnWIfmHCe3R9F3L4s-NSXeDGKuG0DVzcBHSkAB46oKeP5jJb-YzbFEDQy3dJU61JovlBoFVNs-QEBo77HJcfDrfuE_CgA8gRNXgw4LsyEAn5GQ4M-_pZEOkNnst4rlNRo/s2048/S4020417.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6-pMENkWbLpfnWIfmHCe3R9F3L4s-NSXeDGKuG0DVzcBHSkAB46oKeP5jJb-YzbFEDQy3dJU61JovlBoFVNs-QEBo77HJcfDrfuE_CgA8gRNXgw4LsyEAn5GQ4M-_pZEOkNnst4rlNRo/s320/S4020417.JPG" /></a></div><br /><p><br /> </p><p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.7in;"> For the last 65 years, the hand-carved Creche has been a central piece of our holiday decoration. Not all of the pieces have Gail’s craftsmanship and some are a bit wobbly and have to be secured to stand upright, but Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without bring out that hand-carved wooden Creche. Gail was never as impressed with the Creche as I was. It just didn’t meet her artistic standards, but for me the memories of carving the set with my Aunt Gail are priceless.&nbsp;&nbsp;</p><p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.7in;">As I bring out the Creche and place it front and center, I fondly remember those days when we carved the Creche.</p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp; <b><span style="font-size: medium;">~ ~ ~&nbsp;</span></b><p><span style="font-size: x-small;">© Joan G. Hill, Roots'n'Leaves Publications</span></p>&nbsp;http://rootsnleaves.blogspot.com/2020/12/2020-christmas-memories-20201215-hand.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Joan)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-435542545096646350.post-4877941690288342999Fri, 04 Dec 2020 20:59:00 +00002020-12-19T11:30:43.889-08:00CaramelCayleigh CarlandDale CarlandDivinityFudgeHarold McPhersonJohn L McPhersonRobert McPhersonRuss Hill<p></p><p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <br /></p><p align="center" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"> <span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Divinity, Fudge or Caramels. Why Choose.</span></span></p><p align="center" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">&nbsp;</span></span></p> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhADm3u6b64tK97DhApFB5gsTw3Xe2lNqO9dtYNv_jNmF9pZrUkTFldeGwYbP8JCi99fobzTn1SdJ78bC-lcULxiAwp5d_SHS1gCtXHUV80aBYwmBWqJ7aWE9SXjVRqahsUpjdR0ZFuzOs/s1189/divinity-on-plate.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="647" data-original-width="1189" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhADm3u6b64tK97DhApFB5gsTw3Xe2lNqO9dtYNv_jNmF9pZrUkTFldeGwYbP8JCi99fobzTn1SdJ78bC-lcULxiAwp5d_SHS1gCtXHUV80aBYwmBWqJ7aWE9SXjVRqahsUpjdR0ZFuzOs/w378-h205/divinity-on-plate.jpg" width="378" /></a></div> <p align="center" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /> </p> <p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <span style="font-family: arial;">Candy making has been a big deal in my family. My Dad really liked making candy, and especially divinity, which probably came from his early days growing up in rural Minnesota. Back in the early 1900s, farm folk had more simple ways of family entertainment, such as singing together, card games, and, of course, making candy. </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span> </p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; As I was growing up in Klamath County, the cold, frosty, high-desert mountain air of December nights heralded the family trating of making candy. My earliest candy-making memories were of making divinity, probably because it was so labor intensive. Strong arms and wrists were required tgo turn the old fashioned metal egg beaters of the day (not the ones with nylon bearings, and especially not electric mixers!). Daddy provided the muscle for making divinity.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVGDyVd8Niibx-Mw42dVEH4BzTT-K3SJhHax8UU6RkfMYHaaEn4XMXymj1XRVjKKcZFpJgtwa3AQvwXZ6hBOE5oNSJ-dMUh637jvH_7Jtg2jAEipdQsnSynId1-pVSZcxzH6Hm6ZBI1ag/s275/egg+beater.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVGDyVd8Niibx-Mw42dVEH4BzTT-K3SJhHax8UU6RkfMYHaaEn4XMXymj1XRVjKKcZFpJgtwa3AQvwXZ6hBOE5oNSJ-dMUh637jvH_7Jtg2jAEipdQsnSynId1-pVSZcxzH6Hm6ZBI1ag/s0/egg+beater.jpg" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span> <p></p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; As I got older, Daddy would let me take a turn at the egg beater before the divinity became too stiff for me. Then he would take over. You had to love divinity to be willing to hand-turn an old fashioned egg beater long enough so that it could be spooned out in white peaked mounds on a buttered plate. If the weather was too damp, it meant that we quite often had spoon divinity, but that too was a holiday happening with all of us hovered over the platter of shiny, but unset divinity, with our spoons ready for the first dip. Then periodically we would stroll past the platter for another dip. </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span> </p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnmQ1265iBXUBwVJ7FHJT1_ejfME_8UXfs34GlKXNXrP3jUk-0YU3XT3QHhMCssHCT5GFzN-JRWpAKSVyw3mFVYKsN088fiJfBEJRAsSyGdqDN4_6NrvVCSs62o8nFj7jMg2WihWgYYII/s696/Candy-Licious-Fudge_exps134734_SD2401784D10_18_2bC_RMS-696x696.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="696" data-original-width="696" height="401" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnmQ1265iBXUBwVJ7FHJT1_ejfME_8UXfs34GlKXNXrP3jUk-0YU3XT3QHhMCssHCT5GFzN-JRWpAKSVyw3mFVYKsN088fiJfBEJRAsSyGdqDN4_6NrvVCSs62o8nFj7jMg2WihWgYYII/w401-h401/Candy-Licious-Fudge_exps134734_SD2401784D10_18_2bC_RMS-696x696.jpg" width="401" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"></span> <p></p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Fudge was also high on our candy making list. We were a tad obsessive about making the perfect plate of fudge. It had to be smooth and creamy, not grainy and definitely not “spoon fudge.” In the early 1950s, my Aunt Gail brought home one of the “bootlegged” Christmas Fudge recipes that was <i>supposed</i> to have been from a major candy company. I don't know if that was true or not, but I do know that yummy fudge became a family holiday tradition. Come December, my sister and I would stock up on milk chocolate bars, chocolate chips, marshmallow topping, walnuts, canned milk --- and butter was always on hand. The recipe made about 5 pounds of sinfully good fudge. We gave this Christmas fudge as gifts and took it to parties and family gatherings. T'was a bit like a giant candy exchange, as everyone else in the family was doing the same thing. . As my brothers and sister and I grew older, we continued the tradition of making this scrumptuous fudge. </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span> </p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The older of my two brothers always made this fudge at Christmas. His kids, and later his grandkids, gathered round to “help.” He also maded a white chocolate version of this recipe, which was very well received in this candy loving family. One of the biggest platters of fudge that I ever saw, was at a Christmas eve party at his home. The stack of fudge measured about 2' in diameter and was stacked about 18” tall. Very impressive to any fudge connoisseur. </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhzxocmfTalMn-WQ0MLu-M0_k2rONfu80kCJ1dJHxxEbBv3j2TuZS_OLF5ghBoKyRyNbNvV6rRmYB9Z3m80YastTtL6UpyRfHvOlmLUAiz6KR5lcrvq23Qg90i3aZlAAm342w_ZYVfKBI/s160/1952+BOB%2526JOHN+MAKING+FIDGE.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="118" data-original-width="160" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhzxocmfTalMn-WQ0MLu-M0_k2rONfu80kCJ1dJHxxEbBv3j2TuZS_OLF5ghBoKyRyNbNvV6rRmYB9Z3m80YastTtL6UpyRfHvOlmLUAiz6KR5lcrvq23Qg90i3aZlAAm342w_ZYVfKBI/w411-h303/1952+BOB%2526JOHN+MAKING+FIDGE.jpg" width="411" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">1952, Bob and John standing on chairs at the stove stirring fudge<br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I don't know how my brothers took up the old fashioned fudge making (you know, the kind with just sugar, milk, chocolate and butter) mantle, but they did. They were just little guys when our dad was killed. They didn't have a lot of the candy making memories with our Dad, but they learned to make very good fudge – and at an early age. A while back, I looked at an old 8 mm movie clip of them making fudge. I could not believe how really young they were – 5 and 3 years old. Each have carried on the candy making tradition in their own families. </span><p></p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpmhL9J8y7ird5jTA6edLIjfX0yWvCsIQvv9G-nMn_KFxWX-t44j-BFNdSxJN1tnagOg4vMRN7Ytf6KzH2ya6sDPlNuBRnpE4ozFvV1JNG3y4CKVK7SJ5bRWTdhQUhfpCzrTkyc1iEFi8/s432/2006+John%252C+making+candy.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="334" data-original-width="432" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpmhL9J8y7ird5jTA6edLIjfX0yWvCsIQvv9G-nMn_KFxWX-t44j-BFNdSxJN1tnagOg4vMRN7Ytf6KzH2ya6sDPlNuBRnpE4ozFvV1JNG3y4CKVK7SJ5bRWTdhQUhfpCzrTkyc1iEFi8/w461-h356/2006+John%252C+making+candy.jpg" width="461" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">2006, Smiling brother John making caramels at Mom's Christmas tree decoration party</span><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span> <p></p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The younger of my two brothers became the family caramel maker --- his caramels were to die for. He patiently stirred his concoction of sugar and extra heavy cream at a fairly low heat (we say low, because our family cooks mostly on High – who needs those little knobs with the little marks). He doled his caramels out throughout the holiday season --- and if his caramel supply got low, he made another batch. And we waited – not so patiently. </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span> </p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;</span></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;">&nbsp; My youngest brother also carries on the tradition with his family, which includes three lovely girls. A few years ago at a tree decorating party, my two younger brothers were in mother's kitchen whipping up fudge. I walked in and thought I was in a fudge cook-off. They take their fudge making seriously. </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXbSRODAXQS6IJXoU04zc1pVwx_PlV3ST5eAT2RvhApwrrqtlB2uXdCqo0HCDreSGfy0eiUTgJQS8AexiCENv2wWQVUrA9t_jRQcq4i_ZH5s-A2Jfnn9Exqixd1f1mMTYWhl0fSiUXWbM/s1728/2006+y-n+--Mothers%2527+Day+at+Grans-+John%252C+Russ%252C+Dale+n+Caitlyn.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1184" data-original-width="1728" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXbSRODAXQS6IJXoU04zc1pVwx_PlV3ST5eAT2RvhApwrrqtlB2uXdCqo0HCDreSGfy0eiUTgJQS8AexiCENv2wWQVUrA9t_jRQcq4i_ZH5s-A2Jfnn9Exqixd1f1mMTYWhl0fSiUXWbM/w395-h270/2006+y-n+--Mothers%2527+Day+at+Grans-+John%252C+Russ%252C+Dale+n+Caitlyn.jpg" width="395" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">2007, Candy making at Gran's, John, Russ. Cayleigh and Dale<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span> <p></p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; In Eugene, my sister and a friend of hers would make up platters of almond roca so we had a change of pace. My sister also makes a mean batch of fudge --- but not so much anymore, now that the nieces and nephews have grown up. My daughter-in-law and I used to go into high candy making mode during the holidays. I would do fudge and divinity. She liked to make mint patties, a rolled nougat ball, candied nuts, and a toffee bark. </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span> </p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I don't make candy so much anymore. Children and grandchildren have grown up, and family traditions change. Platters of candy have been replaced by platters of veggies and fruits --- but when the snow flies, and the wind blows cold, I dream of divine divinity, creamy fudge and memories of those candy making times. </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><p><span style="font-family: arial;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span></p><br /><p></p><p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; ~ ~ ~&nbsp;</p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;">© Joan G. Hill, Roots'n'Leaves Publications</span></p>http://rootsnleaves.blogspot.com/2020/12/2020-christmas-memories-20201204.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Joan)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-435542545096646350.post-1458309560027459595Thu, 03 Dec 2020 14:00:00 +00002020-12-19T11:31:12.948-08:00Letters to SantaLois HillSharon K. Hill<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjngk4C3xhEUT0JNhyESqgCYHSLagNV2QZTzRHs892vKh8aR7IopsTbb1wVrih8f_pGmD69ggEPNjB-RGNPQ57BUVe-Wwy7dxgApr7R3JWQJp7PpPugs0Vcz0IlUx19rsmV6JtNS8jKLOc/s1338/1959-12+Lois+and+Sharon-helping+little+sister+with+her+mail.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1338" data-original-width="888" height="592" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjngk4C3xhEUT0JNhyESqgCYHSLagNV2QZTzRHs892vKh8aR7IopsTbb1wVrih8f_pGmD69ggEPNjB-RGNPQ57BUVe-Wwy7dxgApr7R3JWQJp7PpPugs0Vcz0IlUx19rsmV6JtNS8jKLOc/w392-h592/1959-12+Lois+and+Sharon-helping+little+sister+with+her+mail.jpg" width="392" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;LETTERS TO SANTA</p><p style="text-align: left;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The Sears Christmas Wish Book had come.&nbsp; Each page - with toys and such - carefully scrutinized.&nbsp; Then our eldest daughter brought out paper and pens and would begin her letter to Santa and then proceeded to help her sister Sharnie.&nbsp; Lois was quite advanced and often "played school" with Sharon and the neighbor girls, and so could write some and copy easily.&nbsp; In addition, there was a fair amount of help from Mom.&nbsp; As time went on, the letters got longer, but in the photo above, my darling daughters were just 5 and 3 years of age, <br /></p><p style="text-align: left;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; After the letters were painstakingly copied, the girls put their letters in envelopes printed with a big "To Santa."&nbsp;&nbsp; At that time we only lived about 10 to 12 miles to our destination, but it took 20 to 25 minutes before we arrived at&nbsp; the Santa Mail Box which was located outside of the then J. W. Kerns Farm Equipment store.&nbsp; I have always loved this photo of Loli lifting her sister Sharnie so she could put her Own letter in the Santa Mail Box.</p><p style="text-align: left;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Their attire was interesting.&nbsp; They rarely left the house without their cowboy boots - it was Klamath County, you know, and cowboy boots were sort of required.&nbsp; I had made the Pendleton wool jackets that they wore - and had my own matching jacket.&nbsp; The jackets were paired with some harlequin printed pants that I had made.&nbsp; In those days and actually throughout their highschool years, almost all of the girls' clothing as well as my own were made at my sewing machine.</p><p style="text-align: left;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; In Klamath Falls in the 1950s, J. W. Kerns carried one of the bigger selection of toys and Christmas items, and was the place to go for farm folk - if you wanted to shop in store.&nbsp; Obviously, after posting the letters, the girls and I strolled through the store to view the Christmas toys and decorations.&nbsp; Back then, it was an adventure that could easily surpass a Christmas shopping trip to a big box store nowadays.</p><p style="text-align: left;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; And Santa's Mail Box seemed substantial.&nbsp; Surely he would get those letters and fill their wishes with care.</p><p style="text-align: left;"><font color="#000000"><font face=""><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang=""><span style="font-weight: normal;"><font size="2"><font size="4"><span><span><span><span>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;<b> ~ </b></span><b><span>~ ~</span></b></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></font><br /><font color="#000000"><font face=""><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang=""><span style="font-weight: normal;"><font size="2"> </font><b><br /></b> </span></span></font></font></font></p><div align="LEFT"> <b><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: x-small;">© Joan G. Hill, <i>Roots'n'Leaves </i>Publications</span></b></div>http://rootsnleaves.blogspot.com/2020/12/2020-christmas-memories-20201203.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Joan)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-435542545096646350.post-8864710661532771868Wed, 02 Dec 2020 14:00:00 +00002020-12-19T11:31:35.052-08:00Lois HillRuss HillSears Wish BookSharon K. Hill<p>&nbsp;</p><p align="center" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"> THE WISH BOOK IS HERE!!!</p><p align="center" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">&nbsp; <br /></p> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoWEzacKzhzbjKJfOBcNuTCbc_H6m4rXtzNK7cnMaCMtA13xvLwF4ze1jm86JT4pIyvsE7HmCcNm70ejvqe6UTxC3dDYEPAiZdY-vbVdHUrA3vw-ffnYGp773nviW0b4XU6Rh0sXaXsds/s176/1956-Sears-Christmas-Book.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="176" data-original-width="130" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoWEzacKzhzbjKJfOBcNuTCbc_H6m4rXtzNK7cnMaCMtA13xvLwF4ze1jm86JT4pIyvsE7HmCcNm70ejvqe6UTxC3dDYEPAiZdY-vbVdHUrA3vw-ffnYGp773nviW0b4XU6Rh0sXaXsds/w311-h422/1956-Sears-Christmas-Book.jpg" width="311" /></a></div><br /><p align="center" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /> </p> <p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> In our household, the arrival of the Sears Christmas Catalog, known as the Wish Book, was big event. When our children were little tykes, we had to go to the Sears Store to pick up the catalog. Later it arrived by mail. The Wish Book was definitely the beginning of the holiday season, as Lois, Sharon and Russ scanned the pages for their heart’s desires. My mother didn’t get the Sears Wish Book, so my younger brothers, who were just a few years older than my children, would also come over to carefully go over each page for the "newest and the bestest."&nbsp; By Christmas Eve, the Wish Book would be tattered and special pages marked, as well as a few smears left from Christmas baking and candy making.</p> <p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.74in;"> <br /> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsG7_8peXmm9CKOXPCKJLDLmgnrhwMFHa16BOrUQRjx3rHdjx9nIUYo458mGZQSZEiSpjeJSKugT_p6MVESLCB7gYYpNPKZKNXLsqUqK9Wx_kggCHBT1vb7ViUHl3w7P08hz3XQ8ZoSug/s179/1956+Sears+Christmas+Catalog+%25282%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="179" data-original-width="127" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsG7_8peXmm9CKOXPCKJLDLmgnrhwMFHa16BOrUQRjx3rHdjx9nIUYo458mGZQSZEiSpjeJSKugT_p6MVESLCB7gYYpNPKZKNXLsqUqK9Wx_kggCHBT1vb7ViUHl3w7P08hz3XQ8ZoSug/s0/1956+Sears+Christmas+Catalog+%25282%2529.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcD4RqmDE6VxoJFZWbcv4rG7DfVSK7RqtnOeEoE8zq0Qc625wtRcWXC2zCulRFdNTDAfdw94-uMzIxrHEDHfyHF3Wk2SS8lRRNX13vYs3Eg918DgGH-hRmdJoau2QguxDCjpEfJVPODjA/s179/1956+Sears+Christmas+Catalog+%25282%2529.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">.</a></div><p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> From 1954 through 1963 we farmed and ranched, so the Sears Christmas Wish Book was where and how we shopped for Christmas. In 1964, the five of us were ensconced in Pullman, Washington, while Doc got his DVM. We now got the catalog, by mail, and it was still thoroughly perused each Christmas. The Christmas lists got longer as the kids could write better. We continued to get the Sears Christmas Wish Book until sometime in the early 1990s. By that time, our children were adults and now the grandchildren were beginning search the book for their Christmas wish list.&nbsp;</p><p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.74in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT0ZoJkHaeqjYl0Wb3GuTr2B8UNuHfh29-1V0ek54xTMYmUIytBaEVF_-WiA3H-rKWeuqbJY8ifdUNxwgX8yBwBQKhyphenhyphenvT7Ey1t_AofDgF0OwD48soL4feZCQlLp5TfsUJ4TC4D22zHAXc/s179/1959-Sears-Christmas-Book.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="179" data-original-width="127" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT0ZoJkHaeqjYl0Wb3GuTr2B8UNuHfh29-1V0ek54xTMYmUIytBaEVF_-WiA3H-rKWeuqbJY8ifdUNxwgX8yBwBQKhyphenhyphenvT7Ey1t_AofDgF0OwD48soL4feZCQlLp5TfsUJ4TC4D22zHAXc/s0/1959-Sears-Christmas-Book.jpg" /></a></div><br />&nbsp;<p></p> <p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.74in;">&nbsp;I rather miss that old Wish book.</p><p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.74in;">&nbsp;</p> <p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.74in;"> <font color="#000000"><font face=""><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang=""><span style="font-weight: normal;"><font size="2"><font size="4"><span><span><span><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; ~ </span><span>~ ~</span></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></font><br /><font color="#000000"><font face=""><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang=""><span style="font-weight: normal;"><font size="2"> </font><b><br /></b> </span></span></font></font></font></p><div align="LEFT"> <b><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: x-small;">© Joan G. Hill, <i>Roots'n'Leaves </i>Publications</span></b></div><p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> </p> <p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> <br /> </p> <p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> <br /> </p> <p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> <br /> </p> <p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> <br /> </p> http://rootsnleaves.blogspot.com/2020/12/2020-christmas-memories-20201202-wish.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Joan)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-435542545096646350.post-5795804611401538327Tue, 01 Dec 2020 14:00:00 +00002020-12-19T11:32:09.843-08:00Christmas treeingHarold McPhersonRichard A Hill<p>&nbsp;</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ovkk1KUtYB1LpyV-NE9RDA23i-jGEWPo9eQhaG5ac5dahousjnV_xuNNnNAEkDmedxlbI61RbhGSD2fL_6nLlnmK9jUi3om40e1pJIt94XZY_JZWRVgItibygu12lD_BJdbHRekFq4M/s1600/P1010016.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="372" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ovkk1KUtYB1LpyV-NE9RDA23i-jGEWPo9eQhaG5ac5dahousjnV_xuNNnNAEkDmedxlbI61RbhGSD2fL_6nLlnmK9jUi3om40e1pJIt94XZY_JZWRVgItibygu12lD_BJdbHRekFq4M/w495-h372/P1010016.JPG" width="495" /></a></div><p></p><p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; In my McPherson family, going out to the mountains to get our Christmas tree was always an adventure.&nbsp; The photograph above was taken on a much later Christmas tree trek up the Dead Indian Hi-way on a snowy December day with grandkids in tow.&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; I believe my Dad made annual treks for the Christmas tree before the State started to require permits for cutting down the tree.&nbsp; He loved Christmas.&nbsp; Later,&nbsp; Mother would usually be tasked with the job of getting the permit for cutting the tree and the gathering of stuff for the outing;&nbsp; lots of extra mittens and socks, blankets, hot chocolate, sandwiches, cookies, lots of cookies, and all of the necessities that made outing fun for my sister, brothers and me.&nbsp; Daddy took care of the implements for cutting the tree and fastening it on the car.&nbsp;&nbsp;</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXwihvsugcCVE2XvW4XCtFapuNy6orGny6LuUCFIZOidi2rAjYTBqONGH6uOljZzdoj3EidQhAKsUaV4MS1Enc95tFNp42qVEdrTnpgcc1IWTnHclq6YvfIUF6D87cxTByeDi7sTCmKlM/s1600/P1010008.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="341" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXwihvsugcCVE2XvW4XCtFapuNy6orGny6LuUCFIZOidi2rAjYTBqONGH6uOljZzdoj3EidQhAKsUaV4MS1Enc95tFNp42qVEdrTnpgcc1IWTnHclq6YvfIUF6D87cxTByeDi7sTCmKlM/w455-h341/P1010008.JPG" width="455" /></a></div><br />&nbsp;<p></p><p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; My sister, brothers and I continued this tradition for many years, though I have to say that rarely were our Christmas trees as lovely as the trees in the photo above.&nbsp;&nbsp; Usually there was one side that HAD to be situated against the wall or in a corner.&nbsp; Later on known as Charlie Brown trees.&nbsp; We did have a lovely tree when our older daughter was almost a year old.&nbsp; The photo below doesn't do justice to my memory, but it was a large tree and took up a good part of our front room.&nbsp; However, when our younger daughter, the climbing child, was a year old, our Christmas tree was quickly dismantled and reassembled on a table.&nbsp; <br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHK2X6KTjaOckSCMO04zxa2psTq7UDRCS4Q1vlPcs3xBJ7uz_M15_A9H5PxcgxwTdrvJAGX6ZybzvwL6yGqPBth2oScaxeScOxsiQJQqQZagO4Ts2s-pmAhyphenhyphenDlFwJmUtxCbwpKKM_t2bo/s1455/1954-12-26+Lois-more+green.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1455" data-original-width="1051" height="435" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHK2X6KTjaOckSCMO04zxa2psTq7UDRCS4Q1vlPcs3xBJ7uz_M15_A9H5PxcgxwTdrvJAGX6ZybzvwL6yGqPBth2oScaxeScOxsiQJQqQZagO4Ts2s-pmAhyphenhyphenDlFwJmUtxCbwpKKM_t2bo/w314-h435/1954-12-26+Lois-more+green.jpg" width="314" />&nbsp;</a></div><p></p><p>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp; <br /></p><p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Years later, Doc and I and the children were in Pullman, Washington, while Doc was getting his DVM degree.&nbsp; We put together a Christmas tree outing for some of our vet student friends and their wives and girlfriends, you know, the friends that lived in southern California cities, Arizona, place where you go to the tree lot for your Christmas tree.&nbsp; I wrote a story about that adventure and am placing in this post.</p><p></p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>A Christmas Love Story</i></span></p><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-left: 0.01in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> <i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Standing in line at the district's Forest Ranger's office, my three friends, also wives of 2</span>^{<span style="font-size: small;">nd</span>}<span style="font-size: small;"> year students at the university's college of veterinary medicine, were a'quiver. </span></span> </i></p><i> </i><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-left: 0.01in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> <i></i> </p><i> </i><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-left: 0.01in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> <i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Paula from the </span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Arizona desert fairly bounced as she confided to anyone within 10 feet, “I've never been in the snow before.” On lookers smiled and some actually guffawed, as there was nearly 16” of packed snow all over campus and the Palouse hills and valleys.</span></span></span></i></p><i> </i><p align="left" class="western" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-left: 0.01in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> <i></i> </p><i> </i><p align="left" class="western" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-left: 0.01in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> <i><span style="font-size: small;">Sara who hailed from a small fishing town south of Seattle, snorted, “O Paula, look outside. Snow. You mean that you have never gone Christmas treeing in the snow before.” </span></i> </p><i> </i><p align="left" class="western" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-left: 0.01in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> <i></i> </p><i> </i><p align="left" class="western" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-left: 0.01in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> <i><span style="font-size: small;">Ginny, who had come from the suburbs of Los Angeles nodded. “Neither have I – doesn't snow much at my home – and no Christmas trees close by – except off of trucks parked in big open lots.”</span></i></p><i> </i><p align="left" class="western" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-left: 0.01in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> <i></i> </p><i> </i><p align="left" class="western" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-left: 0.01in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> <i><span style="font-size: small;">Doc and I had grown up with huge family treks to the mountains to cut our own perfect tree --- at least, usually there was at least one perfect side – and maybe two if we were lucky. “It'll be fun,” I said as we picked up our permits.</span></i></p><i> </i><p align="left" class="western" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-left: 0.01in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> <i></i> </p><i> </i><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-left: 0.01in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> <i><span style="font-size: small;">Clouds blowing in from the northwest mottled the blue-gray sky, but did not hamper the excitement of leaving the university campus for an adventure. Over the past week, we had been making preparations. The guys gathered axes, saws, and ropes; and the four of us friends set out warm clothes, sleeping bags (just in case) and made banana nut breads and cookies. On Saturday morning we stowed in the cars all of the tools, picnic baskets full of fruit, cookies, breads and sandwiches, and thermos bottles of coffee and hot chocolate. </span></i> </p><i> </i><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-left: 0.01in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> <i></i> </p><i> </i><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-left: 0.01in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> <i><span style="font-size: small;">An hour later, with the rolling wheat fields far behind, we parked along side the dirt road the Forest Service mark as the Christmas tree cutting area. Car doors sprang open and we burst out into the cold invigorating air. Jackets, scarves, hats were quickly dug out of the cars. I shook my head. Paula's lovely dressy leather jacket was great for movies and going downtown --- but it was rather skimpy for trudging around on this hillside. </span></i> </p><i> </i><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-left: 0.01in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> <i></i> </p><i> </i><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-left: 0.01in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> <i><span style="font-size: small;">Sara brought out heavy Norwegian sweaters and caps – gifts from her husband's family n Norway; Ginny wore one of her husband's cast off stadium coats with UCLA Bear logo. After lacing up our snow boots, Doc and I shrugged into our down jackets, stuffed gloves into our pockets. We also brought out a backpack of extra gloves, hats, dry socks.</span></i></p><i> </i><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-left: 0.01in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> <i></i> </p><i> </i><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-left: 0.01in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> <i><span style="font-size: small;">When everyone was coated up, our little band spread out through the heavily forested but gentle slopes of the mountain. Quickly we were all out of sight of one another looking for our own perfect tree. By the time the first tiny snowflakes started drifting down, the hillside was ringing with the calls of the other couples. “Paula, where are you?” “Sara, are you still behind me?” “Ginny, I can't see you, where are you?” Then the rather like a mating call, the answers came back, “Over here.” As the snow came down faster and the afternoon sun waning, the hillside reverberated with calls even more frantic calls of our friends. “Calls to Paul, Sara, and Ginny, but never did I hear did I hear my name.</span></i></p><i> </i><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-left: 0.01in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> <i></i> </p><i> </i><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-left: 0.01in; text-indent: 0.74in;"><i> By the time snow was starting to come down in earnest, we had all returned to our cars. After the last tree had been strapped to the last car, we snacked on sandwiches, banana nut bread, cookies, apples, raisins and nuts, and warmed our hands around cups of hot chocolate and coffee. Then, into the warm cars for the drive back to the university.</i></p><i> </i><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-left: 0.01in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> <i></i> </p><i> </i><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-left: 0.01in; text-indent: 0.74in;"><i> The sun was dipping behind the mountains as we headed home. I sat stiffly beside Doc. He seemed perfectly happy. I was not. Finally, I petulantly asked, “You never called my name to see if I was alright. Didn't seem like you cared about me – not like the other guys cared for their wives.”</i></p><i> </i><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-left: 0.01in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> <i></i> </p><i> </i><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-left: 0.01in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> <i><span style="font-size: small;">He looked across at me, shook his head and said, “I don’t have to call for you. I know which rocks are you are going to pick up and bring home; I know the kind of plants you like; I even know where you found the sugar pine cones that you carried down the mountain. There is never time that I can’t walk right to where you are. I always know where you are. I always will.”</span></i></p> <p align="left" style="line-height: 100%; margin-left: 0.01in; text-indent: 0.74in;"> <span style="font-size: small;"><i>Years would pass before I realized that this was a most unique and wonderful love story. Now more than six decades later, those words and the love story were still true.</i></span></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-left: 0.01in; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.74in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>* &nbsp;&nbsp; *&nbsp; *&nbsp;</i></span></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-left: 0.01in; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.74in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-left: 0.01in; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.74in;"><span style="font-size: small;">Happy Christmas Tree in the mountains, in the lots, in the stores.&nbsp; T'is the season.</span></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-left: 0.01in; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.74in;"><br /></p><div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><font color="#000000"><font face=""><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang=""><span style="font-weight: normal;"><font size="2"><font size="4"><span><span><span><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; ~ </span><span>~ ~</span></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></font><br /></div><font color="#000000"><font face=""><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang=""><span style="font-weight: normal;"><font size="2"> </font><b><br /></b> </span></span></font></font></font><div align="LEFT"> <b><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: x-small;">© Joan G. Hill, <i>Roots'n'Leaves </i>Publications</span></b></div></div></div><div><br /><br /></div> <p><br /></p>http://rootsnleaves.blogspot.com/2020/12/christmas-memories-christmas-tree.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Joan)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-435542545096646350.post-1642496516072712127Sat, 25 Jul 2020 01:56:00 +00002020-07-24T18:56:15.585-07:00Dale CarlandLake of the WoodsLois HillRichard A HillRuss Hill<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjui57FB-tTUb8kQ_vxOydeeZBYFNpipyxf9BN8_utAL0_06bPTfcKRuP2OrvkYecoWZNURrRSv8darn3JBzu73lkJHnrVA0DOySUN-CmXx9U1JHGEtpFoBSHmoButAWIxmxzTFRhVHq0s/s2048/DSCF0019.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjui57FB-tTUb8kQ_vxOydeeZBYFNpipyxf9BN8_utAL0_06bPTfcKRuP2OrvkYecoWZNURrRSv8darn3JBzu73lkJHnrVA0DOySUN-CmXx9U1JHGEtpFoBSHmoButAWIxmxzTFRhVHq0s/s320/DSCF0019.JPG" width="462" /></a></div><br /></div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; That first summer was much like this photo of the Lake with a snowy Mt. Pitt (Mt. McLoughlin) in the background.&nbsp; My brothers, Bob and John, scampered over the last remaining snow drifts to get the dock anchored so that the boat could be tethered.&nbsp;&nbsp; Lake of the Woods is a high mountain lake and the water is cold, at least until late July, and then it warms up for about two weeks before it starts the fall cool down.&nbsp; Swimming and water skiing on the Lake is not for the squeamish, but we were a hardly lot.<br /></div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Everyone in the family was on hand to ready the Cabin for the summer fun. Doc and I brought our three children down from Portland for the big Cabin cleaning day. Later that summer we moved to Ashland and were closer to the Lake, Cabin and family.&nbsp; Sue and a friend came from Eugene.&nbsp; Mom, Cecil, Bob, John and Jani were on hand from K. Falls.</div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Doc, Bob, John and Cecil worked to get the outside chores done and the cabin ready, while inside Mom, Sue, Jani and I, along with my daughters, were madly cleaning.&nbsp; Scrubbing the refrigerator (Yikes, what a messy job!),washing all of the dishes and pots and pans, cleaning the upstairs sleeping loft, the two bedrooms and the main room where we all congregated around the fireplace, ate at the long table, and had the evening s'mores and games.&nbsp; And of course, the outhouse, the Flower Pot, had to be scrubbed down, but then my girls had been doing that since they were hardly more than toddlers. -- well, at least they were in attendance.</div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I loved those family "work parties."&nbsp; In fact, I think most of the family liked the togetherness of preparing the Cabin for the summer fun.&nbsp; I haven't come across photos of those Cabin cleaning days.&nbsp; We were probably too busy to take pics, but I do have some photos from that summer.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8qq9SugDBodrhYvGMHoO1uWNLusRCh3bLzwIObY38J3gUqzT_2nQEc9-H0COCmfSghCVJlkHk-IqocFPvSRmYCDG7SQTz-B6ACRmpoOkHDwrpejofCzqyO3LH2NXckqS-Je-MnhADDmg/s1274/1968+Joan%252C+Russ+and+Ric+on+cabin+dock.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1014" data-original-width="1274" height="403" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8qq9SugDBodrhYvGMHoO1uWNLusRCh3bLzwIObY38J3gUqzT_2nQEc9-H0COCmfSghCVJlkHk-IqocFPvSRmYCDG7SQTz-B6ACRmpoOkHDwrpejofCzqyO3LH2NXckqS-Je-MnhADDmg/s320/1968+Joan%252C+Russ+and+Ric+on+cabin+dock.jpg" width="506" /></a></div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Doc and I are on the dock with Russ standing at the edge of the dock.&nbsp; The boat is out of the boat well, so someone was probably out skiing or tubing.&nbsp;&nbsp; Note that Russ was wearing an old fashioned kopeck life jacket. These life jackets weren't the most comfortable, but our kids always wore the life jackets when boating and skiing.&nbsp; In fact the younger kids wore their life jackets all the time, at least until they could swim to Liskey's dock and back.&nbsp; Russ looks like he was old enough that he had passed the test, so he was probably getting ready to go out in the canoe or motor boat.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPZDd_yxzk_32kFuCBBrz3xIqDhZ5ZrU6MJaWnloA-4pkEpcj1ctkB38djmrfDzvZV9GOADxD-8jbu7VQxSp-JrLcsFTX9GL3QN6x8vtRm11kj1iLf-BvvN3QvgBor8A5W2NqxwzmgUCg/s1206/1969+Summer-Lois+getting+ready+to+ski.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1182" data-original-width="1206" height="473" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPZDd_yxzk_32kFuCBBrz3xIqDhZ5ZrU6MJaWnloA-4pkEpcj1ctkB38djmrfDzvZV9GOADxD-8jbu7VQxSp-JrLcsFTX9GL3QN6x8vtRm11kj1iLf-BvvN3QvgBor8A5W2NqxwzmgUCg/s320/1969+Summer-Lois+getting+ready+to+ski.jpg" width="483" /></a></div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; In this photo, Loli is getting ready to take off from the dock on a ski ride.&nbsp; At that time, we had an older white boat with an outboard motor -- not the biggest motor so sometimes it was a chore getting up on the skiis.&nbsp;&nbsp; You can see by Loli's skiis, we had upgraded from the old red skiis with the tennis shoes attached on removeable plaques.&nbsp; Loli loved water skiing.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE5g709tnERToiGd1XAzhpYq2QZRRGi-sqE85QClkRqaDs02LLS480TXU_xH8SviaUG1Zr4wrnT9pnb0bFSvAcYMeT8dF7Ex-gBfonP-UfyIIsL5JLtlN_1zWDH32omw0LJ7Lzu0oR_7c/s1209/1969+Summer-Russ+amd+Dale+playing+at+the+Lake.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1209" data-original-width="1175" height="530" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE5g709tnERToiGd1XAzhpYq2QZRRGi-sqE85QClkRqaDs02LLS480TXU_xH8SviaUG1Zr4wrnT9pnb0bFSvAcYMeT8dF7Ex-gBfonP-UfyIIsL5JLtlN_1zWDH32omw0LJ7Lzu0oR_7c/s320/1969+Summer-Russ+amd+Dale+playing+at+the+Lake.jpg" width="516" /></a></div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Russ and Dale are getting ready to launch an inner tube between our dock and Liskey's dock.&nbsp; Liskey's boat house can be seen in the background.&nbsp; Russ isn't wearing a life jacket, so he had passed the swim test.&nbsp; The swim test was swimming between our dock and Liskey's dock and back.&nbsp; Form wasn't a prerequisite, just the ability to get there and back.&nbsp; The kids complained mightily, but each took their turn at passing the test.&nbsp; Getting to be on the dock without a life jacket was a rite of passage and each looked forward to it.&nbsp; No matter how they groused.&nbsp; In addition, either Sue or I were on the dock to oversee the fun in the water and to make sure the rules were followed.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvI60OFreoKvGHET62lmNZwsTRR3KYR-0O8Z3HTqDnGCb18XrQ1EMzwcZ3RVse1LV_zStuBnjHo0J9SB-x22kZVl_oWTObVFGAlTmeo0woJDkSPblBUFThXOHe_c-QMX1iFxlAH-ZI5_w/s1202/1969+Summer-Dale+on+lake+side.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1179" data-original-width="1202" height="502" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvI60OFreoKvGHET62lmNZwsTRR3KYR-0O8Z3HTqDnGCb18XrQ1EMzwcZ3RVse1LV_zStuBnjHo0J9SB-x22kZVl_oWTObVFGAlTmeo0woJDkSPblBUFThXOHe_c-QMX1iFxlAH-ZI5_w/s320/1969+Summer-Dale+on+lake+side.jpg" width="512" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Here is my youngest brother Dale standing on the dock in the late afternoon.&nbsp;&nbsp; I really like the shadow of he and Russ in the background.&nbsp;&nbsp; The life jacket that Dale was wearing was one of the newer ones at the time -- and it was used for decades afterwards.</div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; One of the evening past times back in those days was "frogging." Doc and his brother Rob would go frogging when they too were youngsters.&nbsp; After dinner, the kids would get buckets and head out on the shore line in search of frogs.&nbsp; When their buckets were full, back to the Cabin they would traipse for the frog races.&nbsp; Lots of giggling, and frogs don't race in a straight line.&nbsp; Then they would turn the frogs loose -- possibly to be caught another nite.&nbsp; <br /></div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Such fun times.&nbsp; Such and idyllic life.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><font color="#000000"><font face=""><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang=""><span style="font-weight: normal;"><font size="2"><font size="4"><span><span><span><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; ~ </span><span>~ ~</span></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></font><br /></div><font color="#000000"><font face=""><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang=""><span style="font-weight: normal;"></span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face=""><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang=""><span style="font-weight: normal;"><font size="2"> </font><b><br /></b> </span></span></font></font></font><div align="LEFT"> <b><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: x-small;">© Joan G. Hill, <i>Roots'n'Leaves </i>Publications</span></b></div></div></div><div><br /></div>http://rootsnleaves.blogspot.com/2020/07/2020-lake-of-woods-series-1969-first.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Joan)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-435542545096646350.post-5828415703119995097Tue, 21 Jul 2020 22:55:00 +00002020-07-21T15:55:45.672-07:00Josh McPherson<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvNCoDryhXROLWLOOyQAdneyqjcK2WTJ9Vvrc-iacw0zCooW7H-Yu8_AvIkXbYk9yw1vrF_onLyABXA0FpoQvfobkgaZc8TGUyrA50gQ_fXOcUbbDFpk7Nc91DVDpwTYEmka1aB-Q81uk/s2832/DSCF0100.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2128" data-original-width="2832" height="375" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvNCoDryhXROLWLOOyQAdneyqjcK2WTJ9Vvrc-iacw0zCooW7H-Yu8_AvIkXbYk9yw1vrF_onLyABXA0FpoQvfobkgaZc8TGUyrA50gQ_fXOcUbbDFpk7Nc91DVDpwTYEmka1aB-Q81uk/s320/DSCF0100.JPG" width="500" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Evening Shadows on the Lake<br /><br /><br /><div style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; As the evening&nbsp; shadows lengthened, the water skis and toys were stowed, the dock cleared and the boat covered.&nbsp; Then it was time for sitting around the a good fire in the fireplace,&nbsp; roasting marshmallows, and playing games. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIa6BWUJR81DIg7Y46m4DD8GdhNI-6fwFv5PlpZCGY42UnOCiNgDuIhRwUxf64kwOD_GyfOSxcsYvlgFt4knoE49QYP3YFDQ6QCaIQro571Xt2eGMnsIbCcbscu8hEv_2nCZ3yCKfpL4M/s1197/1969+John+and+Jani+late+afternoon+on+the+dock.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1197" data-original-width="1185" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIa6BWUJR81DIg7Y46m4DD8GdhNI-6fwFv5PlpZCGY42UnOCiNgDuIhRwUxf64kwOD_GyfOSxcsYvlgFt4knoE49QYP3YFDQ6QCaIQro571Xt2eGMnsIbCcbscu8hEv_2nCZ3yCKfpL4M/s320/1969+John+and+Jani+late+afternoon+on+the+dock.jpg" /></a></div></div><div style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; My brother John and his wife were sitting on the dock in the waning hours of sunlight.&nbsp; The day was coming to a close and the evening hours approaching.</div><div style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Cribbage was a long time favorite in our family and my brothers were just little tykes when they started.&nbsp; Probably how they learned to count, albeit strange - 15-2, 15-4 and a pair is 6.</div><div style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCGho3KFWMpGkh-E2w_N-wZylaG5_hR669VZE23yVLiIblXL68fx95KFiJhvM8WQm2KOyKXYZwpkXLffCoTuDW79CaJ7pK2oWxRdawnkmMcohyphenhyphenLAle7IlRlG1N8gdPJde3AKrbZMrXfUc/s1089/1969+Evening+cribbage%253DJohn+and+Ric%252C+Jani%252C+Sharon.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1089" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCGho3KFWMpGkh-E2w_N-wZylaG5_hR669VZE23yVLiIblXL68fx95KFiJhvM8WQm2KOyKXYZwpkXLffCoTuDW79CaJ7pK2oWxRdawnkmMcohyphenhyphenLAle7IlRlG1N8gdPJde3AKrbZMrXfUc/s320/1969+Evening+cribbage%253DJohn+and+Ric%252C+Jani%252C+Sharon.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <br /></div><div><br /></div><div>&nbsp; A fire in the fireplace and John and Doc playing a game of cribbage.&nbsp; Sharon, Jani and others in the background playing some card game.&nbsp; Such good memories of those days.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTHbFXOIfuk9Eim8iTJ7GRWxG90ujDYeZgdbednxmRK9fyV6A_VdF5Dwjfjj40meOZ21jvNWqrr8CpFsimrgcWJmNzDtA7NoP1SXOqnBDGnL0cPmvW7VDW4WT_pG_s6JX9k2T02fFakfo/s1083/1969+jani+and+Joan+playing+cribbage-John+kibitzing.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1083" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTHbFXOIfuk9Eim8iTJ7GRWxG90ujDYeZgdbednxmRK9fyV6A_VdF5Dwjfjj40meOZ21jvNWqrr8CpFsimrgcWJmNzDtA7NoP1SXOqnBDGnL0cPmvW7VDW4WT_pG_s6JX9k2T02fFakfo/s320/1969+jani+and+Joan+playing+cribbage-John+kibitzing.jpg" /></a></div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The above picture shows Jani and Joannie, deep in a game of cribbage with John kibitzing&nbsp; -- marshall stick in hand.<br /></div> <br /> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFqjC3Lw1xe0mAcfxzRCWxyEbqnFquFbvkNrmOUieqSdVwRgKisYWsXL7wO1bUv0hcX_pmNAxSLO6KmJ1ktBxFQh4mXequ5S9WIRvHG_VHPJP2MC61aYYxzPT7Z52ee0CIUfgyMJb99eo/s1086/1969+Ric+and+Joan+fireside+at+Cabin.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1086" data-original-width="1071" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFqjC3Lw1xe0mAcfxzRCWxyEbqnFquFbvkNrmOUieqSdVwRgKisYWsXL7wO1bUv0hcX_pmNAxSLO6KmJ1ktBxFQh4mXequ5S9WIRvHG_VHPJP2MC61aYYxzPT7Z52ee0CIUfgyMJb99eo/s320/1969+Ric+and+Joan+fireside+at+Cabin.jpg" /></a></div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Looks like Doc just made a good play in his hand of cribbage with John.&nbsp; Joannie in the background.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRtjHcCGcVpDGOFGPq5uKy3tTfGEiWXwfswmBMlj1AMlA-Ql3jZGCgg4vxxCOXAQ5GbHfpyeZVQ3GPo8XrP7hqYGYNAr2jfCxbrc17myMB927k2242qRK0uiLgi0mwAuQ6wGeUdjeH2-E/s1600/p1010114.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRtjHcCGcVpDGOFGPq5uKy3tTfGEiWXwfswmBMlj1AMlA-Ql3jZGCgg4vxxCOXAQ5GbHfpyeZVQ3GPo8XrP7hqYGYNAr2jfCxbrc17myMB927k2242qRK0uiLgi0mwAuQ6wGeUdjeH2-E/s320/p1010114.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; More than twenty years later, the scene looks much the same.&nbsp; Family playing games in the evening in front of the fire place.&nbsp; This time Lois and Josh are the onlookers of the high level Scrabble game between Jody (the Scrabble queen) and a young family friend.&nbsp; <br /></div><div><br /></div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Evening shadows, blazing fire, roasted marshmallows and family games in front of the fireplace.&nbsp; Ahh, all is good at the Cabin at the Lake.</div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><font color="#000000"><font face=""><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang=""><span style="font-weight: normal;"><font size="2"><font size="4"><span><span><span><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; ~ </span><span>~ ~</span></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></font><br /></div><font color="#000000"><font face=""><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang=""><span style="font-weight: normal;"></span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face=""><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang=""><span style="font-weight: normal;"><font size="2"> </font><b><br /></b> </span></span></font></font></font><div align="LEFT"> <b><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: x-small;">© Joan G. Hill, <i>Roots'n'Leaves </i>Publications</span></b></div></div> http://rootsnleaves.blogspot.com/2020/07/2020-lake-of-woods-series-evening.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Joan)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-435542545096646350.post-3384967948239031827Wed, 17 Jun 2020 18:16:00 +00002020-06-23T11:01:02.227-07:00Russ Hill<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKRLQQnEYd0igx_HUrHaeGO3tHjvdosqcW7DRXOCaR_PyD81uCWyZB-qOnckVjD-Zq8u6lxl8BuP45oyu1FBKxfLkoVzaZMNmxNnezVhFhXCqlUIF1eOa2bTv26nN2d5Ouqgu56t9nqQQ/s1079/1969+Summer-Russ+and+saucer-1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1076" data-original-width="1079" height="483" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKRLQQnEYd0igx_HUrHaeGO3tHjvdosqcW7DRXOCaR_PyD81uCWyZB-qOnckVjD-Zq8u6lxl8BuP45oyu1FBKxfLkoVzaZMNmxNnezVhFhXCqlUIF1eOa2bTv26nN2d5Ouqgu56t9nqQQ/s320/1969+Summer-Russ+and+saucer-1.jpg" width="485" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Summer 1969, Russ getting ready to go out on the water saucer<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp; In 1969, Russ was getting ready to ride the "saucer, "&nbsp;&nbsp; which at that time was older than nine year old Russ.&nbsp; This waterfront accouterment was made by Doc and his brother Rob in about 1952 or 1952.&nbsp;&nbsp; <br /></div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; In those days, the Hill boys were always watching for the new thing in the water ski world.&nbsp; They probably saw the first variation of the sauce in a newsreel at the movies.&nbsp; Back then, there were always little short movies bits before the main attraction:&nbsp; "Now in Florida, they have a new way of reading the morning newspaper," which was followed by a clip of a handsome young man sitting on a chair perched on a saucer, reading the newspaper and being towed by a big inboard boat.&nbsp; <br /></div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; A view like that or something similar certainly would get Doc and Rob's minds working on how they could do something similar.&nbsp; Their approach was to buy a sheet of heavy duty exterior plywood.&nbsp; They fashioned a 4" circle out of half of it.&nbsp; Then grinding and rounding down the edges was a major effort.&nbsp; A lot harder than it looked, given their tools.&nbsp; When the saucer was shaped to their image of what it should look like, they started thinking about the more decorative aspects of the saucer.&nbsp; Bright yellow seemed good for the paint.&nbsp; Of course, one would need a visiual center, hence the black cross marks.&nbsp; They had never seen a saucer like this before, so they thought it would be very slick and would need something to make it easier to stand on.&nbsp; Sand, yes, sand was the choice.&nbsp; After adding sand to sticky paint and then a coat of verathane.&nbsp; Yes, that was the solution, so they thought.&nbsp; <br /></div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Summer came and the saucer was ready.&nbsp; Ahh, but the sand caused skinned shins and arms and elbows.&nbsp; Every time there was a fall, skin and blood were shed.&nbsp; Back to the drawing board, well back to the shop buff off the sand, then more coats of paint and verathane.&nbsp; Now it was much better.&nbsp; Even so, the size was a bit unwieldy, but it was substantial.&nbsp; That was a good thing to the Hill boys.<br /></div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; In the 50s, the saucer was quite the anomaly.&nbsp; Very few on the lake.&nbsp; The&nbsp; reality was that it was fun to learn and do a few tricks with the saucer, but it wasn't very exciting or as much fun as water skiing.&nbsp; In our family, the saucer was used as the first excursion of the young children being pulled by the boat.&nbsp; Our children, one by one, would get on the saucer with Doc, holding tightly on to his legs, and be pulled around the lake.&nbsp; Later the children first learned to&nbsp; ride the saucer, as it was quite easy to get up on the water behind the boat.&nbsp; Little kids usually sat in the middle of the cross bars, hold onto the ski rope and the boat would just pull them up.&nbsp; Now standing up from a sitting position was a bit more difficult - at least at first.</div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Adults have always tried to do tricks on the saucer.&nbsp; Putting a chair on it.&nbsp; Rather boring.&nbsp; Riding with two on the saucer.&nbsp; Boring.&nbsp; The one thing that never was very successful, but fun, was to try to cross the wake behind the boat with the saucer.&nbsp; No skeg on the saucer so the only <span style="font-family: &quot;times&quot;;"><span class="ILfuVd"><span class="e24Kjd">maneuverability</span></span></span> was the body language of the rider.&nbsp; Success was limited.&nbsp; Often a rider could get the saucer to the height of the wake, but not quite over it.&nbsp; Usually the rider was in the water and the saucer skimming across the lake in another direction.<br /></div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Doc used to take our children as well as our dog, Gwennie Sue, for rides on the saucer.&nbsp; I am sure I must have photos, some place, in some box, in some closet, but so far only this photo of Russ has surfaced.&nbsp; Other saucer stories may be told as photos come to the forefront.</div><div><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>My younger daughter had wanted to keep the saucer as a souvenir of the fun times in the past, but that didn't happen.&nbsp; I wish that she could have had that piece of our history, but that old saucer is now just a hunk of 70 year old plywood.&nbsp; Ah, the stories it could tell could fill a book, a fun filled book.<br /></div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <br /></div><div><font color="#000000"><font face=""><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang=""><span style="font-weight: normal;"><font size="2"><font size="4"><span><span><span><span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; ~ </span><span>~ ~</span></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></font><br /><font color="#000000"><font face=""><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang=""><span style="font-weight: normal;"></span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face=""><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang=""><span style="font-weight: normal;"><font size="2"> </font><b><br /></b> </span></span></font></font></font><div align="LEFT"> <b><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: x-small;">© Joan G. Hill, <i>Roots'n'Leaves </i>Publications</span></b></div></div> http://rootsnleaves.blogspot.com/2020/06/2020-lake-of-woods-series.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Joan)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-435542545096646350.post-21214724804236738Fri, 12 Jun 2020 14:16:00 +00002020-06-12T07:16:16.459-07:001950s2020CabinLake of the WoodsLois HillRuth Sigford<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFhHzyTJsJr5pq_2mdPl2EO7mkMNdd2pkldg7sgHHowfp8_5C8NodsRaBcvwzhvGa-D_ynJzfEmyLNVAWbTOK10sbeWEVfBlepflJVWRP4953JrNPyvve730CbV1Y9SGNTLtiJhhyphenhyphenC7Oo/s2550/1955+Lois+and+Gran.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1760" data-original-width="2550" height="343" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFhHzyTJsJr5pq_2mdPl2EO7mkMNdd2pkldg7sgHHowfp8_5C8NodsRaBcvwzhvGa-D_ynJzfEmyLNVAWbTOK10sbeWEVfBlepflJVWRP4953JrNPyvve730CbV1Y9SGNTLtiJhhyphenhyphenC7Oo/s320/1955+Lois+and+Gran.jpg" width="498" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Summer 1956, Gran and Lois on the Cabin dock<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div>.</div><div><br /></div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; A favorite photograph of mine.&nbsp; Gran with her first grand daughter, Lois, enjoying the sunny dock.&nbsp; Often Doc's father, Ralph Hill, generously opened up the Cabin to my family.&nbsp;&nbsp; After we were married, Doc and I&nbsp; brought my sister Sue to the Cabin with us most weekends.&nbsp; The time of this photo, it was a whole family affair as my mother and&nbsp; brothers, Bob and John, also made the trek to the Cabin. By 1956, the newly paved road to the Cabin made the trek an easy day trip.</div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I think that Gran also fell in love with the Cabin at the Lake at that time.&nbsp; Even though she was never really comfortable around the water, she never let her fear stop her from boating and swimming.&nbsp; She never tired of viewing the Lake from the deck of the Cabin.</div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; There aren't many photos of the days in the 1950's, or at least I haven't unearthed them as yet, but the memories are strong.&nbsp; One of the lasting, memories, although I didn't always name it as a memory, centered around how the Cabin was kept.&nbsp; Before locking the door and leaving the Cabin, we always cleaned, swept and mopped.&nbsp; I never really thought about it before, but that must have been a hold-over from how Lois Dixon Hill kept the Cabin.&nbsp; <br /></div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; There was a sense of timing at the Cabin, at least in my time at the Cabin.&nbsp; As little girls, Lois and Sharon, participated in&nbsp; the cleaning activities.&nbsp;&nbsp; After breakfast was finished and the Cabin cleaned, we would head up to the&nbsp; out-house, in later years dubbed the "flower pot," with broom, mop and a pail of hot soapy water.&nbsp; After the out-house was thoroughly cleaned, we could then swim, hike, and go boating.&nbsp; I don't think later generations of kids ever derived that sense of satisfaction of a clean out-house in the same way that Lois and Sharon did.&nbsp; They probably thought Aunt Joannie was weird.</div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Now as I think back about that sense of caring for the Cabin, I realize how much of an influence that Lois Dixon Hill had upon later generations care of the Cabin.&nbsp; Even though she passed away before Doc and I were married (and I only knew her for a few short years), she still had a strong presence about the Cabin.&nbsp;&nbsp; <br /></div><div><br /></div><div><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><font size="2"><font size="4"><span><span><span><span>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; ~ </span><span>~ ~</span></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></font><br /><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"></span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><font size="2"> </font><b><br /></b> </span></span></font></font></font><div align="LEFT"> <b><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: x-small;">© Joan G. Hill, <i>Roots'n'Leaves </i>Publications</span></b></div></div>http://rootsnleaves.blogspot.com/2020/06/2020-lake-of-woods-series-early-days.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Joan)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-435542545096646350.post-6937466774672345028Thu, 11 Jun 2020 13:30:00 +00002020-06-11T08:45:14.429-07:002020CabinLake of the WoodsSusan McPherson<div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <i>A re-post of a poem that I wrote for my sister, Sue, in 2009.&nbsp; I always liked the poem.&nbsp; Although I am not even a mediocre poet,&nbsp; I do like the images evoked, a composite memory of so many mornings that Sue and I shared at the Lake.&nbsp; Not often did she and I have the opportunity to ski - just the two of us, but when we did it was miraculous.</i></div><div><i>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The photo shows my grandson, S, skiing in the early morning at the Lake.&nbsp; I had an image in my mind of how it looked to me when I skied in the early morning hours and this photo came as close to that image as I could find.&nbsp; The silver, green and gold of that Grace that I sang as a camper plays out nicely here.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><font size="1">God has created a new day,</font></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><font size="1">Silver and Green and Gold.</font></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><font size="1">Live that the Sunset may find you</font></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><font size="1">Worthy His gifts to hold.<br /></font></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><font size="1"></font><br /></i></div><div><i>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; When I last posted this piece, I had complaints that reading the poem itself was&nbsp; nigh onto impossible.&nbsp; So this time around, I&nbsp; added the actual poem just prior to the image of the second page, which contained the poem that I gave to Sue</i><i>.<br /> </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu-IAZDwx-blCbmIqivRaFn1KJX9kf66eZySn9YEassFC556QIf7FwNew_Dl7xCO0wZXh4MCjm7wPDQ_X9t9aMRXrChhoNVZzCBhGCiIF_SXdDW_DmQOpoWLMNE2XhW5LnQ51g9ZQWNos/s3304/2009-08.04+Skiing+on+Glass-1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3304" data-original-width="2552" height="520" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu-IAZDwx-blCbmIqivRaFn1KJX9kf66eZySn9YEassFC556QIf7FwNew_Dl7xCO0wZXh4MCjm7wPDQ_X9t9aMRXrChhoNVZzCBhGCiIF_SXdDW_DmQOpoWLMNE2XhW5LnQ51g9ZQWNos/s320/2009-08.04+Skiing+on+Glass-1.jpg" width="401" /></a></div><p align="right" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /> </p> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"> <font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="2" style="font-size: 11pt;"><b>FOR SUE</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"> </p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="2" style="font-size: 9pt;"><b>SKIING ON GLASS:</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="2" style="font-size: 9pt;"><b>A SISTER'S PRAYER</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"> </p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>Sun rays caress the far mountains,</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>Herons stand in silent vigil,</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>Eagles swoop for early morning morsels,</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>And the lake – a shimmering mirror.</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>Sisters slither from warm sleeping bags,</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>slip into swimsuits 'n' fuzzy sweats,</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>grab a cup of cocoa, scuff into worn tennies. </b></font></font> </p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“<font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>Hurry! Gotta get on the the lake before the ripple.”</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>Cold fingers peel away the rough canvas boat cover,</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>stow life jackets, towels, and extra skis.</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“<font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>Don't forget the paddle – just in case. “</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>The big inboard engine coughs to life,</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>hull edges out onto the molten steel-colored lake.</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“<font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>Head for the other side, better glass.”</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>We two giggle this morning, the glass is ours,</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>no need to share with sleepyheads, </b></font></font> </p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>never waste the glimmering slick surface on beginners.</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>The boat slows to a stop, the water stills.</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>First to ski, slips into the cold moire.</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>An invigorated gasp greets the morning.</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>Deep breath, dip into the ski,</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>adjust the life belt, handles just right,</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>ski in position, boat slowly pulls the rope tight.</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“<font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>Hit it!” </b></font></font> </p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>Burnished water breaks now before the ski.</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>Lean back into the morning light.</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>Bask in sun and wind as the ski slices through the shimmer, </b></font></font> </p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>sending up showers of sparkling rainbows.</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>The slick water barely holds the skeg.</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>Skier, ski, and water are lightly bound</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>as the skier leans far to the outside where the glass is good.</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /> </p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font color="#006b6b"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><i><b><span style="background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">God has created a new day,</span></b></i></font></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>Skier skims the glistening surface,</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font color="#006b6b"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><i><b>Silver and green and gold</b></i></font></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>Cut to right, break the steely still veneer,</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font color="#006b6b"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><i><b>Live that the sunset may find you</b></i></font></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><b>Arc to the left, jump high,</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><font color="#006b6b"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;"><i><b>Worthy His gifts to hold</b></i></font></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /> </p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"> <font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="2" style="font-size: 9pt;"><b><font size="1" style="font-size: 8pt;">God and Glass are good</font>.</b></font></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /> </p><h1 align="left" class="western" style="margin-left: -0.01in; text-indent: 0.01in;"> <font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 6pt;">JGH's note: I first heard this morning devotional at Camp Esther Applegate on Lake of the Woods when I was a 10 year old camper At home we never sang songs or said grace at meals, so this was a new experience to me. I thought these were the most beautiful words I had ever heard, and that is still so, some 60 years later. To me this camp song is closely tied to Lake of the Woods, water skiing and my sense of God and Nature. We never skied the early morning glass without hearing this song chime in my head. </font></font> </h1> <h1 align="right" class="western"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 6pt;">Joan Hill </font></font> </h1> <h1 align="right" class="western"><font face="Comic Sans MS, cursive"><font size="1" style="font-size: 6pt;">2009 Aug 4</font></font></h1> <p align="right" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /> </p> <pre><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMg6Gch-VJjnAUushEwLFTYQZNpWTNIjhyBPF9vcs1Z1y98Lw39XXi_KL7gfpdX5002Pp2RNwIWD9nuT7GYHfAh8LuH5gA0W_0n2wdXzC4G4HY_xRkKRFf_oK8Mx8CfGF63uAzVSOURwg/s3308/2009-08.04+Skiing+on+Glass-2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3308" data-original-width="2552" height="522" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMg6Gch-VJjnAUushEwLFTYQZNpWTNIjhyBPF9vcs1Z1y98Lw39XXi_KL7gfpdX5002Pp2RNwIWD9nuT7GYHfAh8LuH5gA0W_0n2wdXzC4G4HY_xRkKRFf_oK8Mx8CfGF63uAzVSOURwg/s320/2009-08.04+Skiing+on+Glass-2.jpg" width="403" /></a></pre></div> <font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><font size="2"><font size="4"><span><span><span><span> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; ~ </span><span>~ ~</span></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></font><br /><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"></span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><font size="2"> </font><b><br /></b> </span></span></font></font></font><div align="LEFT"> <b><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: x-small;">© Joan G. Hill, <i>Roots'n'Leaves </i>Publications</span></b></div> http://rootsnleaves.blogspot.com/2020/06/2020-lake-of-woods-series-skiing-on.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Joan)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-435542545096646350.post-3301600442412550789Wed, 10 Jun 2020 15:39:00 +00002020-06-10T11:11:28.940-07:002020CabinLake of the Woods<div><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheD2lu2a5KNfhHVbKYcIajB8keY2q7JCg0rcjY9k56lcK-m-JePnlhsE2C-1pWIwYvzdpQsSC2W6caggxmIOEL-Zc8Q1VjMly0keAe6y4FkQTHesJELw8eAAUHu2y4nktEuqgujSeVD2o/s258/1952-Winter+at+Lake+of+the+Woods-Joannie+n+Ric.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="258" data-original-width="190" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheD2lu2a5KNfhHVbKYcIajB8keY2q7JCg0rcjY9k56lcK-m-JePnlhsE2C-1pWIwYvzdpQsSC2W6caggxmIOEL-Zc8Q1VjMly0keAe6y4FkQTHesJELw8eAAUHu2y4nktEuqgujSeVD2o/w295-h400/1952-Winter+at+Lake+of+the+Woods-Joannie+n+Ric.jpg" width="295" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><font size="2">January 1952, Doc and Joan outside the Cabin</font><br /><font size="1">(Not a great photo, but I was excited when I discovered this little photo)</font> <br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div><p align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"> <font size="4" style="font-size: 14pt;"><b>Courting Days</b></font></p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> </p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> <font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Those courting days were long ago. Hard to remember just when we started dating. Doc had been part of my life since I was in the first grade, though those were hardly courting days. The </span></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Doc’s</span></span></font></font></font><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> family, at that time, lived just a mile or so down the road from the Zuckerman Hosley ranch where I grew up. My first memories of Doc were when we rode the big yellow school bus to Henley School. Most of the kids around my age were boys, and they seemed to delight in tormenting me, or so I thought. My hair would be pulled, though not meanly, more of an attention getting act, my books snatched, or just verbal teasing. </span></font><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Within a few years, Doc’s family built a new house about five miles away. I don’t know whether it was the distance, or more girls on the bus, or maybe they just outgrew teasing me, but my life of the bus was easier. Doc was known to me, but was not the tormentor of my first few years in school.</span></font></p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> <font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">I’ve pondered about when we started dating. It seems like Doc came into my sphere in the spring of 195</span></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">1</span></span></font></font></font><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">, probably in May, when we had a Girl Scout camp out in my backyard. My troop was led by my Aunt Gail, who gave us a taste of life that was quite different from the usual in that farm community. We made pottery, put on parties (for which the participants paid to attend, tho I can’t remember why our troop needed the money – perhaps for some good cause or a trip we wanted to take), hiked, camped, and listened to my Aunt’s stories of the places she live, the planes she flew, a life very different than ours.</span></font></p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> <font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Back to Doc and the camp out in our yard. It was a big thing to us, and the eight of us girls were busy planning all week. Lots of teenage giggling and talking. </span></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">T</span></span></font></font></font><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">he Hill </span></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">r</span></span></font></font></font><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">oad, </span></font><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">which </span></font><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">edged </span></font><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">along the base of </span></font><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Stukel Mountain, connected with Doc’s road and the then named Zuckerman road where I lived – and along th</span></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">e</span></span></font></font></font><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> way lived the Hill bo</span></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">ys (Doc and Rob), Ralph Wise, and Cecil Enman. This little cadre of boys planned to crash our slumber camp out, and gathered along a few more friends just to add to the fun. The plan was for the boys to ride their bikes, </span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">in the dark(it must have been a full moon or thereabouts),</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> along the Hill road and down the Zuckerman road and then to – hmm, I am not sure if they had a plan beyond the bike ride. At the time, my best friend Mary Dillard was dating Rob Hill, and I had gone out with Doc a time or so, </span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">and I am sure that we had let them know by furtive asides and giggled plans that there was to be a slumber party at my house</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">. As I remember there was a lot of giggling </span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">girl talk that kept </span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> my Aunt Gail monitoring the perimeter of the yard. Gail was a small woman, but she was fearsome and kept the boys at bay. The most that happened that night was a few quick words spoken across the fence wires, but for that place and time, it seemed terribly risque, and in our teenage</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> minds, quite</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> romantic.</span></span></font></font></font></p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> <font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">T</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">hat summer, in late June, my dad was killed in a fiery airplane crash. Doc was there for me during that painful time. </span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">He had planned to take me to the 4</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000">^{<font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">th</span></span></font></font>}</font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> of July carnival – and we did go, but it was too raw for me. We left early, had a coke, and he took me home. A few weeks later, I was scheduled a</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">s a</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> junior camp counselor at Camp Esther Applegate. A hard time for me. Every chance Doc had, he would drive up to the Lake in the evening, unhitch the moorings of the big Century, and come across the Lake to the camp. He would idle the boat off shore and we would talk. The camp staff cut me a lot of slack because I was having hard time, and cast a blind eye to the puttering sputter of the big inboard just off shore </span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">and the two young lovers murmuring across the water</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">.</span></span></font></font></font></p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> <font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Later that summer, I was invited by the Hill family to spend the weekend at their cabin at the Lake. </span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">From that time forward, the Cabin at the Lake became part of my world. M</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">ary and Rob and Doc and I swam and canoed in the summer; hunkered in around the fireplace in the spring and fall. <br /></span></span></font></font></font></p><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></span></font></font></font> </p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> <font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"></span></span></font></font></font></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis7-2l1nUOeSZcbvm-rw008H3gjBJFRza8qd-VE9FyTsLU4GHZEyf3t3-NNDfjnd7Z5SpvdG1LPDMN1tMRwKhhDB9nONKNlrL1xWZ2irrB6GAKKd_cUhqbRBsXkGNAoJf64c-dCZu7gJI/s299/Skating+on+the+Lake..jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="299" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis7-2l1nUOeSZcbvm-rw008H3gjBJFRza8qd-VE9FyTsLU4GHZEyf3t3-NNDfjnd7Z5SpvdG1LPDMN1tMRwKhhDB9nONKNlrL1xWZ2irrB6GAKKd_cUhqbRBsXkGNAoJf64c-dCZu7gJI/" width="409" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><font size="1">An ice skating photo at Lake of the Woods.&nbsp; Not Doc and I,<br /> but it probably was&nbsp; that same winter</font><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I remember one memorable New Years day, when the temperature had been hovering in the subfreezing zone for several days. Unusual, in that it was very cold, but very little snow. Perfect weather for ice skating, so Doc and I tossed our skates in his white four-door Chevy and headed for the Cabin. As we had hoped but not really expected, the shore line was dusted with patches of snow, but the frozen lake was clear of snow. Doc tested the ice near the shore. Clear and hard. Further out, still clear and hard. I </font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">was</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> ready to skate. Not Doc, he was of the longer planning type mind. He </span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">laid the fire in the central fireplace and when the main room was loosing the cold frosty feel, t</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">he two of us</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> then </span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">hauled firewood from the Cabin woodshed – which at that time, was located in the Cabin entry way (later to become part of the kitchen) </span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">to the lakeside fire pit</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">. Once Doc had the fire burning brightly in the fire pit, we put on our skates </span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">and headed out on the lake. Magical. If there was anyone else on the Lake, they were hunkered in their cabins, while Doc and I circled and weaved our ice tracks over the crystal surface of the Lake. Quick warm ups by the fire, then back on the glistening ice. I always hoped for another day like that one. Over the years, Doc and I spent many New Year’s days at the Cabin, but never another one when the </span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Lake glimmered like a mirror, never another one when the </span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> icy </span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">surface</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> was clear of snow. Never another magical day like that day of skating on the Lake.</span></span></font></font></font><p></p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> <font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">A</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">lthough that icy day was etched in my memory, most of the days that Doc and I spent at the Cabin were in the summer time. Lakes and water sports were not part of my family history. Our family outings around water were picnics along tiny streams where the fishing was good and easy. Doc, the other hand, was more adventurous. He was not quite 13years old, when he and his brother had bought an aluminum Gruman canoe in 1946. He hauled that canoe down to Lost River where we first canoed, then to the Upper Klamath to paddle through the marshland, and, of course, to the Cabin at the Lake. Canoeing to the south end of the lake and through the marshy area was always a trek – and became a right of passage for the younger kids when they were finally allowed to “go to the marsh alone,” well with</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">in</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> watchful s</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">cope</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> of adults. </span></span></font></font></font> </p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> <font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The Gruman canoe had ballast tanks at each end and so the canoe could be submerged, filled with water and still float – at least to some degree, it still “floate</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">d</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">.” Doc and his brother spent hours tipping the canoe over, </span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">then getting it right side up, and back into the canoe. Then bailing water out, sometimes with hands, or cups, or fishing tackle boxes. For a land lubber like me, this did not seem like fun. In fact I thought it down right crazy and dangerous. Doc was not to be stopped by a scaredy cat girlfriend. </span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">I was a good swimmer, just not as comfortable in the water as Doc.&nbsp; </span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">I got dumped over in the canoe, once, twice and more. Soon I was having as much fun righting the canoe and the boys.&nbsp; <br /></span></span></font></font></font></p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> <font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Then there were the times that Doc and Rob would straddle the canoe, </span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">each </span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">standing on the gunwales </span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">of the canoe</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">, each armed with a jousting stick – a long stick with burlap bags wound around one end. The two boys would have jousting fights, each trying to knock the other off of the canoe, with out falling off themselves or tipping the canoe over. The usual outcome of the sport was an overturned canoe and laughing boys.</span></span></font></font></font></p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> <font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Doc and Rob were hikers. The</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">y</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> t</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">oss</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">ed</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> a sandwich, a piece of fruit and</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> a canteen of water in a canvas backpack, then</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> head out the back door of the Cabin, up the hill and into the mountain lake area. They hiked up to Lake Harriet, Clover Creek Lake and throughout the mountain lakes area. I never understood how they knew where they were going. No roads, no signs, nothing but trees, but they were comfortably at home in those mountains. <br /></span></span></font></font></font></p><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">My idea of a hike was when Doc took me up to where the water pipe to the Cabin was housed in the spring. It wasn’t much of a hike. A short walk up the hill. My memory of that first hike to the spring was the last day that I ever drank water from the Cabin water faucet. Doc was showing me how the water was connected. </span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">As he</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> pulled the lid away to show me the pipe, </span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">the first thing I saw was a dead rat floating in the cistern. Doc, causally, fished it out and tossed it aside. Too much for me.</span></span></font></font></font></p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> <font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Those early days at the Cabin with Doc were filled with new adventures and experiences. Heightened with the experience of being courting days. Camp fires. S’mores. Swimming. Canoeing. Ice Skating. Hikes along the shore </span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">or to mountain lakes.</span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> Lapping water. Laughter. Stolen kisses, here and there. The Cabin at the Lake was the place where Doc and I fell in love with each other - and with the Cabin.</span></span></font></font></font></p><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"></span></span></font></font></font></p><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><font size="2"><font size="4"><span><span><span><span>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp; ~ </span><span>~ ~</span></span></span></span></font></font></span></span></font></font></font><br /><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"></span></span></font></font></font><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><font size="2"> </font><b><br /></b> </span></span></font></font></font></p><div align="LEFT"> <b><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: x-small;">© Joan G. Hill, <i>Roots'n'Leaves </i>Publications</span></b></div> <br /></div>http://rootsnleaves.blogspot.com/2020/06/2020-lake-of-woods-series-courting-days.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Joan)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-435542545096646350.post-441708878294649800Tue, 09 Jun 2020 19:37:00 +00002020-06-09T20:34:02.518-07:002020CabinLake of the Woods<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRkWFeuUnHFGTN9uS9blfgweY2qOybp5p7f_AAcLYOHNLyidKBAfTAlCamKAwfU2CyBoRwGeAwe8vy1zyfT_qav-EcAoNuYN7Md9-Yn3LtWOtqt8u5CF5-x1PnG04jVai0i5LHNoYbRko/s1600/2002+summer+Ric+throwing+dummy+for+dogs.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRkWFeuUnHFGTN9uS9blfgweY2qOybp5p7f_AAcLYOHNLyidKBAfTAlCamKAwfU2CyBoRwGeAwe8vy1zyfT_qav-EcAoNuYN7Md9-Yn3LtWOtqt8u5CF5-x1PnG04jVai0i5LHNoYbRko/s320/2002+summer+Ric+throwing+dummy+for+dogs.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><font size="2">An Early Morning View of the Dock from Cabin Deck</font><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div></div><div><p align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"> <b>First </b><font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US"><b>Weekend at</b></span></font></font></font><b> the Cabin</b></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"> </p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> The <font color="#000000"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US">C</span></font></font>abin at Lake of the Woods played a large part of my life. The first time I trekked to the <font color="#000000"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US">C</span></font></font>abin was the summer of 1951. I was not quite sixteen years old and had been dating Doc for several months, when he and his family invited me to go to their cabin at the Lake. By the time we loaded two cars with all of our gear, food, and stuff for a long weekend, then Doc’s parents and his sister Jeanie in the family car and Doc and me, and&nbsp; his brother Rob and girlfriend Mary in Doc’s car, a good part of the morning was gone. We had paved road up past the Geary ranch where the road to the Lake of the Woods branched off. Back then, the 30 to 40 minute trip from Klamath Falls was still years in the future. <font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US">A dirt</span></font></font></font> road winding through the mountains. Dust swirling all around the slow moving cars. Hot and stuffy. I was car sick not long into the hour and a half of dusty, curvy mountain roads that lead to the cabin. Not a good way to start the weekend.</p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> Doc’s family had bought the cabin in 1946. For several years, the family had been driving to Diamond Lake and renting a cabin during the worst of the allergy season as Doc’s dad suffered from spring and summer allergies. They often made that trek with his sister Olive Marshall and her family or with one or more of his mom’s sisters and their families. So when the Cabin at Lake of the Woods came up for sale, Ralph jumped on it - and it became a part of their lives and mine as well.</p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> “It’s just the family cabin,” Doc told me when he invited me for the weekend.</p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> So I was not prepared for the large, old house situated on the shore of the Lake. Although there was no electricity or hot water, there was a big wood cooking stove and a gas stove (for quick meals on hot summer days). There was a small ice box for milk, meat and fresh foods. It didn’t hold that much, so food choices were carefully made. Even then the Cabin was the center of multi-family gatherings, so the cupboards were full of plates, cups, glasses, and cooking accouterments. Enough to feed gatherings of 15 to 20 or more. I was intrigued with one set of dishes that contained an edging of silver leaves and flowers surrounding a large “R.” When I asked about it, Doc said that those dishes came with the cabin which had been owed by the Rogers family. Decades later, I located a Rogers grandson who was ecstatic that I offered to give him the dishes from his grandparents.</p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> The front room had a large fireplace, which <font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US">was </span></font></font></font>very necessary as the fireplace and the cook stove were only source of heat in&nbsp; the house. Two small bedrooms were carved out of the front room area, and an unfinished loft sleeping area upstairs. The wall facing the lake shore was filled with four sets of windows, each made up of nine small panes, so that the entire front of the house looked out on the Lake. A large homemade table, which could be made even larger with additional leaves, was situated next to the windowed wall. The Hill family always had “sit-down” meals at the table, although little kids were sometimes situated at a couple of small tables, if the need be. Kerosene lanterns were the only source of light. There were two lanterns in the kitchen, and at least three in the front room. Lighting in the loft was supplied by flashlights.</p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> Doc, Rob, Mary,&nbsp; Jeanie and I took our gear upstairs to the loft. Rows of wood and canvas camp cots (army surplus) lined the wall overlooking the lake. I was a bit nervous. The unfinished loft seemed to host an array of spiders and bats, both of which I feared. The girls got one side of the loft, and Doc and Rob the other. We didn’t spend much time up there – for which I was quite happy, what with the spiders and bats and other creepy crawly things.</p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> If I had to describe the Lake activities, first would be on the water, next eating, and last and maybe my favorite, night campfires. As water activities were the high point, immediately after getting settled, Doc took me down the stairs off of the front deck, to the “changing rooms.” I was definitely intimidated. There were two changing rooms located under the deck, one for girls and one for boys. The floor was slatted, however, the cabin was over twenty years old at that time and the slats were beginning to rot, and I thought the deck seemed a bit rickety as well. <font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US">The changing rooms were</span></font></font></font> dark and spidery. No way I was going to change into my swim suit in that dark hole – but I did, grudgingly. </p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> Then it was on to the big “U” shaped dock, in the center of which was the big Century Inboard motor boat. A classic. Water skiing was comparatively new in Oregon, but the Hill family were big fans of the sport. The big Century boat was one of about six on the lake that could pull water skiers and they all knew one another and swapped information on the newest skis, tricks, and boats. </p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> Once down on the dock, Doc brought out their water skis, two sets, one for adults and one for children. Each looked to be homemade, but I actually think that was the style, at least in the hinterlands of the water skiing world. The skis were painted, red and white I think, and they had a removable plaque that had a tennis shoe screwed onto the plaque. Each set had two or three sizes of tennis shoes, to accommodate the foot size of the skier. Doc and Rob were avid water skiers, as was their dad, Ralph Hill. The rest of the family, extended family of Doc’s, his mom, sister, aunts, uncles, and cousins, participated, but not with the enthusiasm of Doc, Rob and Ralph. I looked at the boat and the wooden skis, and swore that I would never be pulled across the water on those little sticks by that big boat. I was a high desert girl at heart, and though I loved the Lake, I was not born a water person.</p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> Mealtimes were a full blown activity at the Hill family cabin. Breakfast, lunch and dinner were sit down affairs. So preparing the meals, setting the table, and, of course, the clean up and dishes took a considerable amount of work, and in the 1940s and 1950s, it was considered woman’s work. Although the cabin was rustic, Doc’s mother, Lois, made sure that the kitchen was spotless after every meal was finished. She did so with much pleasure. She was a joy to be around, although we were reserved around one another. Girl friend of eldest son probably is always a bit tenuous at first.</p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> After dinner, the Hill family gathered around the fire. If the weather was a bit chilly, they gathered around the fireplace. Cribbage and pinochle were favored games. On warm summer evenings, a big fire was made in the fire pit down on the shore of the lake. The kids caught frogs, of which there were hundreds or more lining the shore. The adults chatted fireside as the evening shadows darkened across the lake with a scattering of campfires glistening in the distance. Evenings were usually an occasion for treats of roasted marshmallows and sometimes S’mores. Sometimes, one could hear the far away sounds of singing and music across the lake. Those were my favorite times. </p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> After a packed full weekend, Doc took me to my home on Sunday night. I had had a memorable time at the Hill cabin and was bursting with tales to tell my mom, Sue, Bob and John. Little did I know, that the Cabin would become such an integral part of my life.</p><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></p><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><font size="2"><font size="4"><span><span><span><span>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<b> ~ </b></span><b><span>~ ~</span></b></span></span></span></font><br /> </font><b><br /></b> </p><div align="LEFT"> <b><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: x-small;">© Joan G. Hill, <i>Roots'n'Leaves </i>Publications</span></b></div> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> <br /> </p> </div>http://rootsnleaves.blogspot.com/2020/06/2020-lake-of-woods-series-first-weekend.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Joan)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-435542545096646350.post-5181630475820938915Tue, 09 Jun 2020 00:21:00 +00002020-06-09T14:37:42.650-07:002020CabinLake of the Woods<div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <i>I wrote this little piece probably around 2005, after summer conversations with my youngest granddaughter.&nbsp; Although somewhat a repeat of the previous post, I thought it relevant as a slightly different view and flavor.&nbsp; Although I am no longer a part of the Cabin group and haven't gone to the Cabin for nearly a decade, those memories are mine forever.<br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUIrm1pE9fDCYaJxd4wfcKK7xRf387LrP0I6J3xKtsXXcYp-CfMtRR-8_UPtHrAB0UO5_DWZ3t8tWmAc8EiKDU1Xpywq_P_UAR0WtVmBBYzo40b-FV06xT_BtoI1eWh-3CBbdbFGG0tos/s259/Waterfront%253DestherApplegat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUIrm1pE9fDCYaJxd4wfcKK7xRf387LrP0I6J3xKtsXXcYp-CfMtRR-8_UPtHrAB0UO5_DWZ3t8tWmAc8EiKDU1Xpywq_P_UAR0WtVmBBYzo40b-FV06xT_BtoI1eWh-3CBbdbFGG0tos/" width="398" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shore line at Camp Esther Applegate<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><i><br /></i></div><div><br /><p align="center"> <font size="4" style="font-size: 14pt;"><b>Rendezvous on the Beach</b></font></p> <p class="western">Living on a farm and 20 some miles from town, Camp Esther Applegate, the Klamath County Girl Scout camp, became an wonderful part of my summer life when I was growing up. The first year, when I was about 10 or 11, I was scared. None of my friends went to camp, so I was most definitely a newbie. Most of the girls were from Klamath Falls, which to me meant “city” girls, which made them even more strange to me. Even though I had a hard time mixing and mingling with the strangers, I loved the camp – the campfires, crafts, swimming, hiking, singing at meals, singing grace, and singing at the campfires at nite. I didn’t like the after hours-lights out times with my tent mates that first year as I always felt like the outsider. </p> <p class="western" style="line-height: 150%;">I think it was during that first year that I lost my <i>new</i> flashlight down the latrine. The poor counselors! I insisted that they get my flashlight! They tried to tell me to just forget it, the flashlight was gone. “No, it’s not gone, I can see the light!” And finally, the camp counselors got a rake and raked it out of the latrine and washed it off for me. As I look back, I am sure that my tent mates thought me strange for “using a flashlight that fell in the latrine.”</p><p class="western" style="line-height: 150%;">After that first year, my best friend Mary Dillard always went to camp, so I had a best friend. Surprisingly enough, I found that I always looked forward to seeing my “city” friends each summer. In fact the group of us, which comprised my first tent mates, Mary and I, all became jr. camp counselors together. I was almost 15 years old the last year I went to Camp Esther Applegate. Mary &amp; I had signed up early in the spring to be jr. camp counselors when we were at the end of our freshman year at Henley High School.</p> <p class="western" style="line-height: 150%;"> </p> <p class="western" style="line-height: 150%;">Mary and I were dating the Hill brothers for the past 2 summers. I later married my Hill man but then we were just dating and also spent many weekends at the then Hill cabin at Lake of the Woods. The four of us water skied, canoed, swam and acted like teenagers at the lake --- idyllic summers. Then my dad was killed in an airplane accident just weeks before camp was to start. I was reeling, never crying when people could see me, but I spent a lot of time alone --- crying.</p> <p class="western" style="line-height: 150%;"> </p> <p class="western" style="line-height: 150%;">The hormones of a 15 year old, combined with the loss of my father, the beauty of the lake, tended to frame that summer in a space of its own. Every weekend, Thursday nite thru Sunday nite, for the entire camp season, Ric would drive the big Century Inboard boat over to the beach at Camp Esther Applegate. I would sit on a huge downed log on the beach while he idled the boat off shore --- and we talked over the water --- for what seemed like hours --- but probably not that long as it gets cold quickly in the evening. Ordinarily, the head counselors would not have permitted such behavior, but because of my father’s death they cut me slack --- and I am sure their watchful eyes surveyed this “young love across the water” bit with compassion and perhaps amusement.</p> <p class="western" style="line-height: 150%;"> </p> <p class="western" style="line-height: 150%;">We still go to the Cabin at Lake of the Woods, which is now owned by my mother. All of my children and grandchildren have spent their summers at the Cabin --- water skiing, tubing, canoeing, kayaking, swimming and all of the wonderfully fun lake activities. Even now, more than 55 years later, when ever we boat past the beach at Camp Esther Applegate (now called something else), my mind flashes back to that mystical time of pain and young love that etched that summer into my mind forever. I love to tell the story to my grandchildren, even though they cannot believe that I was ever young enough to have such a memory. Although, Miranda, my youngest granddaughter, told this story to her friends and even pointed out the beach and the log (which still lays there on the beach, though in a state of decay) to her friends. Perhaps she will point out the beach and tell this story to her children.</p> <p class="western" style="line-height: 150%;"><br /> </p> <p align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 150%;"><font size="2"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> &nbsp; &nbsp;</span></span></span></span></b><font size="4"><span><span><span><span>&nbsp; ~ </span><span>~ ~</span></span></span></span></font><br /> </font><b><br /></b> <b></b> </p><div align="LEFT"> <b><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: x-small;">© Joan G. Hill, <i>Roots'n'Leaves </i>Publications</span></b></div> </div>http://rootsnleaves.blogspot.com/2020/06/2020-lake-of-woods-series-rendezvous-on.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Joan)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-435542545096646350.post-1184557066245493191Sun, 07 Jun 2020 18:36:00 +00002020-06-07T11:37:59.947-07:00CabinLake of the Woods<div><i>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; For the past several years, I have toyed with the thought of writing about a place near and dear to my heart - Lake of the Woods.&nbsp; That lovely mountain lake centered a multitude of memories throughout my life.&nbsp; And so this is the year that the stories and memories will tumble out.&nbsp; Although, there will not be a particular order to the stories,&nbsp; I am going to begin with my first memory of Lake of the Woods, where the Girl Scout Camp at Camp Esther Applegate was located.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><br /><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> The summer of 1946, when I was ten years old, my mother signed me up for Girl Scout camp session at at Lake of Woods. <font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US">I was deposited</span></font></font></font> at Camp Esther Applegate with all of my new camping gear- a new sleeping bag, a fancy rubber coated flashlight that my father had purchased for me, and as well as all of the listed requirements for the two week stay. </p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="height: 19px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; width: 1px;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYAhwtoL1wS7Todd8dvDcoX4L79hf1BnJq44DdB9_CQOCOAUvHVFDCgsy5Qm2Rrjxxzat23WnZkkV3milxs-PoktcCx9YZEXa0VlIYDh9IPsrtIhrw2_UpfJq5X3SKBdSRlWSV1iMulMo/s301/Tents.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="167" data-original-width="301" height="111" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYAhwtoL1wS7Todd8dvDcoX4L79hf1BnJq44DdB9_CQOCOAUvHVFDCgsy5Qm2Rrjxxzat23WnZkkV3milxs-PoktcCx9YZEXa0VlIYDh9IPsrtIhrw2_UpfJq5X3SKBdSRlWSV1iMulMo/w200-h111/Tents.jpg" width="200" /></a>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; After the check-in was complete, I was assigned to a tent with 7 of the town Girl Scouts. I was a fish out of water as no one else from my troop had signed up for camp. The town girls were far different, or so I thought, from girls from my school. They brought make-up in the bags, their clothes all seemed to match, and they talked about going to movies with boys and having a coke afterwards. It was dizzinging to me. As I look back, because my birthday was late in October, I was always the youngest in my class. Here too, I was younger by a year or two from my camp mates, plus being a country girl who rode horses rather than going to movies with boys – and make up was for the older girls. Definitely, a fish out of water.</div></div><p></p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> The girls were nice to me. Offered to let me read their movie magazines. I didn’t know any of the movie stars that tweaked their interest. And I didn’t know any of the people they knew. Although I joined in all of the activities, I was an outsider for that first year. Nervertheless, I loved the camp. The bugle call to get up and get ready for the day to the sound of taps at night. Mealtimes were always exciting to me. Lots of singing. Most of all I loved breakfast and the grace we sang before eating. In my family, we never said grace before meals at home, so this was a new experience for me and certainly singing grace was new. My favorite morning grace was a song that stayed with me for the rest of my life. </p> <p align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> <font size="2" style="font-size: 10pt;"><i>God has created a new day,</i></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> <font size="2" style="font-size: 10pt;"><i>Silver and green and gold,</i></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> <font size="2" style="font-size: 10pt;"><i>Live that the Sunset shall find you,</i></font></p> <p align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> <font size="2" style="font-size: 10pt;"><i>Worthy his gifts to hold.</i></font></p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"> The morning sunlight, the early shadows on the hills, the greens, silver and golds of the world still bring back the feeling that I had on those mornings at Camp Esther Applegate. <br /></p><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWevwq29o0Mj3S2DIcZHO5m2hyphenhyphenWkAquu8bCP0Wt1qz9HuOwmraiEIZRV0d2u9R7Ko12QjQv77uAe8uX3uCffjJ-4Ux7FAUyRUQrmBpIK5F-g6K1H5OWkcDjZ6I3K2eXmyjG_t4UxbWE2w/s259/EApplegate+docks.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" height="105" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWevwq29o0Mj3S2DIcZHO5m2hyphenhyphenWkAquu8bCP0Wt1qz9HuOwmraiEIZRV0d2u9R7Ko12QjQv77uAe8uX3uCffjJ-4Ux7FAUyRUQrmBpIK5F-g6K1H5OWkcDjZ6I3K2eXmyjG_t4UxbWE2w/" width="141" /></a></div><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> Every day, we were shepherded down to the water front for our swim lessons. Lake of the Woods is a high mountain lake and the water warms to a comfortable temperature for about two to three weeks in late July to early August. I was in the pre-4th of July camp session, so the water was cold and one had to be very vigorous to stay warm in the lake water. In addition, swimming in an open lake was very new and a bit scary to me. So memories of swimming at Esther Applegate were a mix of wonderful new adventures, exciting, cold and a bit fearful. <font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US">Even so, i</span></font></font></font>t must have been a mostly a pleasant experience because I have always loved my early morning swims at The Lake.</p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> One of my most vivid memories of my camping experience was the night that I lost my flashlight in the latrine. <font color="#000000"><font face="Liberation Serif, serif"><font size="3" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span lang="en-US">The</span></font></font></font> fancy new rubber-coated flashlite, complete with a “push button” gizmo to turn it on and off was my pride. I thought it was the most wonderful flashlite in camp. At night, when I had to go to the latrine before “lights out,” I lit my way to the latrine with my flashlight. I was a bit scared of the dark so I set my flashlite along side me on the outhouse bench. All was well, until one night as I was ready to go out the door, I reached for my flashlight but knocked it into the latrine hole. Now this was my new flashlight, so as a not quite 11 year old might do, I headed for the couselor’s cabin with my tale of loss. </p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> “Oh, there’s nothing we can do. It’s just gone,” said the counselor.</p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> “No, it’s not gone. The light is still on. You can get it out,” I cried.</p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> They said “no” and I replied “but the light’s on.” Whiney campers tend to win out, especially when their brand new flashlight is shining brightly down in the latrine hole. Some time later, with the aid of rakes, and buckets of soapy water, my new rubber-coated flashlite was returned to me. It still shined brightly throughout the rest of the week.</p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> One of the last years that I was at Esther Applegate, we make the trek up Mt. McLoughlin, which I have called Mt. Pitt for most of my life – it was orginally Mt. Pitt. I am not much of a hiker and climbing up the rocky inclines of the mountain was not my idea of fun. I was partnered with another junior counselor, Jackie, on that day. Jackie’s way of hiking was to complain that she couldn’t go another step – but she just continued going step after step. I was ready to quit when she first said she couldn’t go another step. But no, that was not the way of the day. She and I kept going step after step, long after the campers had called it quits and headed back down the mountain. After we reached the summit, I queried her, </p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> “ I thought you said you couldn’t make another step a long ways back.”</p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> “Yep, that’s what I always do. I complain that I can’t make it, but instead I take one more step. Pretty soon, I get to the top of the mountain or the end of the trail. It’s what I do.”</p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> I never saw Jackie after that summer, but her complaining mantra comes back to me every once in a while.</p> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> I attended Esther Applegate as a camper for three or four years, and then for two more years as a junior counselor. By the time I was a junior counselor, my best friend Mary Henzel had been going to camp and now was a junior counselor too. Crafts were a big thing at the camp and Mary always did well in that sort of thing – she was more artistic than I was. Another of my favorite things about the camp were the evening campfires. We did skits, sang songs, and had treats, but the thing that was most memorable to me was the beauty of the campfire itself, the surrounding forest, the lap of water a ways off, and the joy of being with my camp mates. <br /></p><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrI6E9bzFq4M_ZoAgrY0sxHGh0pR-NEhHMo0RSNeZ0xNa5KUf8j78Bcz1ChZALJE2Isa4g7g9FxkhysqZ2WdKVBEql-SrD7uM3M4yz_ktoIQnJ4aX3tF1irxzjYvq8XxAmBz37z6EnOQA/s259/Waterfront%253DestherApplegat.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrI6E9bzFq4M_ZoAgrY0sxHGh0pR-NEhHMo0RSNeZ0xNa5KUf8j78Bcz1ChZALJE2Isa4g7g9FxkhysqZ2WdKVBEql-SrD7uM3M4yz_ktoIQnJ4aX3tF1irxzjYvq8XxAmBz37z6EnOQA/" /></a></div> <p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> Camp Esther Applegate was the scene of unintended lessons and was the beginning of my love affair with Lake of the Woods.</p><p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><font size="2"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp; ~ </span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">~ ~</span></span></span></span></b><br /> </font><b><br /></b> <b><br /></b> </p><div align="LEFT"> <b><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: x-small;">© Joan G. Hill, <i>Roots'n'Leaves </i>Publications</span></b></div> <br /></div>http://rootsnleaves.blogspot.com/2020/06/2020-lake-of-woods-series-camp-esther.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Joan)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-435542545096646350.post-8631693856149312443Sat, 04 Apr 2020 20:23:00 +00002020-04-04T13:23:10.397-07:002010Dundee ScotlandHorse Water WyndJames Peter McPhersonMary Burns McPherson<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh23WXdXk1cshRMemgcvBpb25aMa3BJOVirDXEl29RXA1wUcwjeIBBxS0xRSUAGZRx4bojtte5m2JAd3sMlfJA2eCoo9vDoCB0pm5fhDvU8_Z_CJojfmtmj6LHWjoLGd-nXebSyjVRYG2Y/s1600/Screenshot_2020-04-02+Stonehaven.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="760" data-original-width="1600" height="304" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh23WXdXk1cshRMemgcvBpb25aMa3BJOVirDXEl29RXA1wUcwjeIBBxS0xRSUAGZRx4bojtte5m2JAd3sMlfJA2eCoo9vDoCB0pm5fhDvU8_Z_CJojfmtmj6LHWjoLGd-nXebSyjVRYG2Y/s640/Screenshot_2020-04-02+Stonehaven.jpg" width="640" /></a></div> <br /> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I haven't written much in my blog for the past several months.&nbsp; In fact, I haven't written too much at all, but the other day I was reading about Stonehaven on the <i>History Scotland</i> website.&nbsp; As often happens, one thing leads to another.&nbsp; A Google map search for Stonehaven and the surrounding area, led me to wondering how close Stonehaven was to Dundee -- pretty close, actually.&nbsp; That led to checking out Horse Water Wynd in Dundee -- again.&nbsp; Horse Water Wynd, just two blocks long, is now in&nbsp; a commercial area just north of the University of Dundee, bordered easterly by student apartments and "accommodations," and westerly by various small shops and businesses.&nbsp;&nbsp; In 1841, Horse Water Wynd was filled with tenement houses, crowded with flax mill workers, much like the photo below.<br /> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody> <tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGqjHLQfQQ2374i4ZI5UeWtkHRV_zFC_tUaZ6K_rd1R8uAGoifDFcQEDUDAlvBcfYQQD_rAcynIK3xpEx3HBnGbBEUOEv2WJ0oUcKkkDX2d7gBmFmEuPc0tWcl6UOyo-vNX0qKjIlS1ko/s1600/19th+cent+Dundee+tenement+house.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="495" data-original-width="780" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGqjHLQfQQ2374i4ZI5UeWtkHRV_zFC_tUaZ6K_rd1R8uAGoifDFcQEDUDAlvBcfYQQD_rAcynIK3xpEx3HBnGbBEUOEv2WJ0oUcKkkDX2d7gBmFmEuPc0tWcl6UOyo-vNX0qKjIlS1ko/s400/19th+cent+Dundee+tenement+house.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr> <tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Photo from <i>Dundee and Its Textile Industry, 1850-1914,</i>by Bruce Lenman, Charlotte Lythe and Enid Gauldie<i>.</i>Published by Abertay Historical Society, 1989.</span></td></tr> </tbody></table> &nbsp; <br /> &nbsp;&nbsp; Now those of you of my clan who haven't checked out Dundee's 1841 Census, would probably not be aware that James Peter McPherson lived on Horse Water Wynd with his mother.&nbsp; She was listed as Elizabeth Spink --&nbsp; and I wonder how long or if she ever was known as Elizabeth McPherson.&nbsp; Her husband, Peter McPherson, evidently died before their only child, my great great grandfather James Peter McPherson, was born.<br /> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; According to Google's distance guide, the Wynd was just a short of a half mile from the Tay River docks and probably less to the flax mill where James P. was a flax dresser -- a hard, back breaking, entry level job in the mills.&nbsp; When I zoom in on the Google map, the colors are bright and clear, but it takes me only a few seconds to&nbsp; slip back in my mind to a time long ago and far away.&nbsp; Dundee, in 1841, had a great smoke overlay from the steam engines that ran the flax mills.&nbsp; In addition to the smoke, the air was laden with tiny flax particles, which ended up in the lungs of Dundonians.&nbsp; Folks, men women and children, tended to work 12 hour days A rather unhealthy place in which to live.&nbsp; In Dundee, the average life span was short.&nbsp; If memory servers me right, the life span was in the low 40s, while elsewhere in Scotland the life span was about a whopping 48 years.<br /> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Life was hard. Work. Work. Work.&nbsp; At the end of the week, James P. had earned enough for a minimal of food and shelter, a small bag of coal, and a few candles.&nbsp; I know this because I was curious just how he and Mary had amassed the funds for the voyage to America -- and the internet has a wide array of data on wages and the costs of the necessities of life.&nbsp; His mother died several months before he and his bride to be, Mary Burns, boarded the sailing ship <i>Medora </i>bound for New York, so a portion of his living expenses were reduced.&nbsp; Nevertheless, James P. and Mary were hard pressed to save money for the fare and the provisions that they would need for the crossing. They may have had help from family and friends.&nbsp; Scots are like that, you know.&nbsp; Family oral history says that James P. and Mary arrived in New York City with just a handful of dried peas in his pocket. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; .<br /> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I often ponder on these two great great grandparents of mine.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I have only glimpses of their early lives, but I am so grateful for the&nbsp; 1841 Scotland census, the <i>Medora</i> ship records,&nbsp; the plentiful U.S. records after 1850, and most of all for James P.'s diary from 1850 to his death in 1890.&nbsp; Sometimes, it seems as I know them so well, like I could stop over for a visit, talk about crops, kids, and politics.&nbsp; Then I realize how little I know of their childhood, their parents, education, and surroundings.&nbsp; I know very little of their life in New York City --&nbsp; only that he was a member of the Sons of Temperance, they had four children born in New York City, he worked as a tailor, and eating oysters has ever since been a McPherson family tradition.&nbsp; I scour secondary sources to get a feel for how they traveled to Wisconsin in 1850.&nbsp; I read and re-read <i>The Big Oyster.</i>&nbsp; I watch <i>Gangs of New York</i>&nbsp; again and again.&nbsp; I try to imagine their lives in that teeming hotbed of immigrants. Pondering.&nbsp; So close.&nbsp; So far, far away.<br /> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I give you fair warning:&nbsp; Be careful when curiosity about Stonehaven takes you afar.&nbsp; And pondering takes you even further.<br /> <br /> <div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;~ </span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">~ ~</span></span></span></span></b></span></div> <b><br /></b> <b><br /></b><br /> <div align="LEFT"> <b><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: x-small;">© Joan G. Hill, <i>Roots'n'Leaves </i>Publications</span></b></div> <br /> <br /> <br />http://rootsnleaves.blogspot.com/2020/04/2020-april-4-horse-water-wynd-and-bit.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Joan)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-435542545096646350.post-1183554991609396568Wed, 23 Oct 2019 23:25:00 +00002019-10-23T16:25:26.105-07:002019Dale CarlandGlenLouise Wilson AlterMy Mother's Photo Albums<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody> <tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3bH3CDJZ3R7bPc0ZCGBQa8D_4azV7qFsm4oL0Ssfs4-7QcYcdE5BLS73ERaYOekwKxGoeW3dVeTEp2aYPg59XRydaKQJN9GLeKC87zVilhXLGkTu8Up-EQmx0EnAb1sKERQxUEcKGB4k/s1600/page+05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="822" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3bH3CDJZ3R7bPc0ZCGBQa8D_4azV7qFsm4oL0Ssfs4-7QcYcdE5BLS73ERaYOekwKxGoeW3dVeTEp2aYPg59XRydaKQJN9GLeKC87zVilhXLGkTu8Up-EQmx0EnAb1sKERQxUEcKGB4k/s640/page+05.jpg" width="328" /></a></td></tr> <tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1967-06 to 1969-06, P-.05</td></tr> </tbody></table> <br /> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR15NDq2gMc1-kYFm3iTAAg4-hkqee_4_lNvD88T5vUgWyUcQ0C9SRbk3SXcSMMbGUXwFfQpthNK8ec_2K2H-FzYZsS8RJ5l6-vUuurKUI3pqsTFH281TQPGX7fZM0HU6oZxzqRiewoNg/s1600/1967-08+Another+Forrest+and+Louise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1014" data-original-width="1286" height="504" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR15NDq2gMc1-kYFm3iTAAg4-hkqee_4_lNvD88T5vUgWyUcQ0C9SRbk3SXcSMMbGUXwFfQpthNK8ec_2K2H-FzYZsS8RJ5l6-vUuurKUI3pqsTFH281TQPGX7fZM0HU6oZxzqRiewoNg/s640/1967-08+Another+Forrest+and+Louise.jpg" width="640" /></a></div> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Another photo of mother's friend Louise and her husband Forrest.<br /> <br /> <br /> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Another missing photograph from the album.&nbsp; Could have been lost, or perhaps someone took the photo out for some reason or other.&nbsp; Hmm, never will know.<br /> <br /> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The last photo on this page showed Dale and Glen.&nbsp; Glen had worked on the farm for a number of years.&nbsp; He rather found a home on the farm.&nbsp; Jani and mother cleaned up a trailer so that he had a place of his own.&nbsp; They made sure he got to the doctor when needed, had food, and most of all a place that he called home, complete with folks to look after him when his working days were at an end.&nbsp; This photo was taken in front of mother's home.&nbsp;&nbsp; Dale and Glen are leaning against her yellow Thunderbird.<br /> <br /> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgva2uEa3o5S5KWft_SG4I4ZS5LA89ll1IHDFtEbltPDpFY6HefsHgohU8f-pOWS9CHSHI4xBm1dx1ZH7-bWbKrf5yr4_dAo5ymYUA1UgrEZjfmdOeI1ikV3I6CP0T1nwhq01h69OHdUpc/s1600/1967+Dale+and+Glen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1290" data-original-width="996" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgva2uEa3o5S5KWft_SG4I4ZS5LA89ll1IHDFtEbltPDpFY6HefsHgohU8f-pOWS9CHSHI4xBm1dx1ZH7-bWbKrf5yr4_dAo5ymYUA1UgrEZjfmdOeI1ikV3I6CP0T1nwhq01h69OHdUpc/s640/1967+Dale+and+Glen.jpg" width="494" /></a></div> <br /> <br /> <div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;~ </span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">~ ~</span></span></span></span></b></span></div> <b><br /></b> <b><br /></b><br /> <div align="LEFT"> <b><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: x-small;">© Joan G. Hill, <i>Roots'n'Leaves </i>Publications</span></b></div> http://rootsnleaves.blogspot.com/2019/10/2019-october-23-my-mothers-albums-june.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Joan)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-435542545096646350.post-2301960465347719557Wed, 23 Oct 2019 02:39:00 +00002019-10-22T19:39:26.358-07:002019Dale CarlandLouise Wilson AlterMy Mother's Photo Albums<div align="CENTER"> <br /> <b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp; </span></span></b><br /> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody> <tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Eqrzay8xl17tZ0Kuq30Q3TasNKt9afQB_0-Zw-IvSwvKV3nvMTFnsKILLDAFzVXtAlBvoRCD1fxSe7RdrFNVXqslGVJio1gQmMqEqVq0Drf54lE-RQp6rX2ZOUfU4paqXZ_-PEBAqCo/s1600/page+04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="865" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Eqrzay8xl17tZ0Kuq30Q3TasNKt9afQB_0-Zw-IvSwvKV3nvMTFnsKILLDAFzVXtAlBvoRCD1fxSe7RdrFNVXqslGVJio1gQmMqEqVq0Drf54lE-RQp6rX2ZOUfU4paqXZ_-PEBAqCo/s640/page+04.jpg" width="344" /></a></td></tr> <tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1967-06 to 1969-06, P-.04</td></tr> </tbody></table> <br /> <br /> <br /> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhilRBga9EgdVgQ94ZooRAEnzWY4gYPuZGX0tw4R21-2dkvQ6k8tRn_X6Ita1ReSRc6oQiYs1y6GR09BysXV3i7Sgr5yfYn26f9LGgK875gFF4oM-jf1PS_Y7JkxTbFyM3hOtTb79uXyxA/s1600/1967-07-26+Dale+with+candles+burning+on+BDay+cake.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="994" data-original-width="1285" height="494" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhilRBga9EgdVgQ94ZooRAEnzWY4gYPuZGX0tw4R21-2dkvQ6k8tRn_X6Ita1ReSRc6oQiYs1y6GR09BysXV3i7Sgr5yfYn26f9LGgK875gFF4oM-jf1PS_Y7JkxTbFyM3hOtTb79uXyxA/s640/1967-07-26+Dale+with+candles+burning+on+BDay+cake.jpg" width="640" /></a></div> <div style="text-align: left;"> &nbsp; A pretty fancy birthday cake with cowboys, covered wagon and all four candles for Dale on his fourth birthday.</div> <br /> <br /> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmisjJksT9ECHpJXxVZ55x_OOntcBWi3TTMX0h-5YQzgGOzF7zlK4159cjc3MyCNsmQUL3WYi86OggB48pYnMFw3AyPH0uOfgKCHkLCWXF5LmHCsSsqoz-cO7UwT5q_t7_3lqhCCDwNjE/s1600/1967-07-26++Dale+blowing+out+4+candles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="995" data-original-width="1303" height="488" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmisjJksT9ECHpJXxVZ55x_OOntcBWi3TTMX0h-5YQzgGOzF7zlK4159cjc3MyCNsmQUL3WYi86OggB48pYnMFw3AyPH0uOfgKCHkLCWXF5LmHCsSsqoz-cO7UwT5q_t7_3lqhCCDwNjE/s640/1967-07-26++Dale+blowing+out+4+candles.jpg" width="640" /></a></div> <div style="text-align: left;"> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Now the boy has the candles out.&nbsp; Looks like the cake was almost to pretty to cut-- but I am sure that the cake was cut and eaten with gusto.</div> <br /> <br /> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoIXrNeofPD3Irozp_aavcDlpAPxakySBqc0Kr2bkz_9YhyphenhyphenvFN-g9gt7JrFMPVybgXAdZbO9ln4kWI7qQk_j-8NgeGvSIQUqE_wRK2_-CD02fI3FMoImc3mY-dLZOHQtzcE4wy6I3Gcj4/s1600/1967-008+Forrest+andf+Louise+Alter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1007" data-original-width="1304" height="494" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoIXrNeofPD3Irozp_aavcDlpAPxakySBqc0Kr2bkz_9YhyphenhyphenvFN-g9gt7JrFMPVybgXAdZbO9ln4kWI7qQk_j-8NgeGvSIQUqE_wRK2_-CD02fI3FMoImc3mY-dLZOHQtzcE4wy6I3Gcj4/s640/1967-008+Forrest+andf+Louise+Alter.jpg" width="640" /></a></div> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Forrest and Louise Alter.&nbsp; Louise had been a friend of mother's since the Hosely days. In those days,&nbsp; Louise was married to Boze Wilson and the mother of Janice and Bill Wilson.&nbsp; Boze was killed in a logging accident in the mid-1950s.&nbsp; Janice was Sue's best friend when they lived on the Zuckerman compound at Hosley.</div> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> <br /></div> <b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;~ </span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">~ ~</span></span></span></span></b><br /> <b><br /></b> <b><br /></b></div> <div align="LEFT"> <b><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: x-small;">© Joan G. Hill, <i>Roots'n'Leaves </i>Publications</span></b></div> http://rootsnleaves.blogspot.com/2019/10/2019-october-22-my-mothers-albums-june.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Joan)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-435542545096646350.post-6769337030576003008Mon, 21 Oct 2019 13:00:00 +00002019-10-21T06:00:03.142-07:00<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody> <tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitzq-xBVpif8Y16Q1PKdg4Ez-9rABxBtocIGKT9paxv1i78RjmIv8UVnwgksuLyOic-76j4Q6GFEIljWxKLaTXBlZXNp3htQ8D69d9PRcv30xcgdAEPhyjTWziO8S2U3Vq-T_ziTLrQ4w/s1600/page+03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="823" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitzq-xBVpif8Y16Q1PKdg4Ez-9rABxBtocIGKT9paxv1i78RjmIv8UVnwgksuLyOic-76j4Q6GFEIljWxKLaTXBlZXNp3htQ8D69d9PRcv30xcgdAEPhyjTWziO8S2U3Vq-T_ziTLrQ4w/s640/page+03.jpg" width="328" /></a></td></tr> <tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1967-06 to 1969-06, P-.03</td></tr> </tbody></table> <br /> <br /> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Hmm, the first photo of this page was missing.&nbsp; The following photograph was a black and white polaroid of Dale on the beach.<br /> <br /> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLNT3sBlfbuwPYHbtiz65mLjO9F9O7NZ1BpskpXZMVehf290hvkjP9FnTLA_o2lTZ4wrARuQH1mbERnOH3P2vM_gQEVbnJ0UzTSLhnqOieiqAL2717hPCmWKW085YVLKW6uPHRMMGqmVU/s1600/1967-07+Dale+at+the+beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1010" data-original-width="1252" height="516" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLNT3sBlfbuwPYHbtiz65mLjO9F9O7NZ1BpskpXZMVehf290hvkjP9FnTLA_o2lTZ4wrARuQH1mbERnOH3P2vM_gQEVbnJ0UzTSLhnqOieiqAL2717hPCmWKW085YVLKW6uPHRMMGqmVU/s640/1967-07+Dale+at+the+beach.jpg" width="640" /></a></div> <br /> <br /> The last photo on this page was a color polaroid&nbsp; of Cecil and Dale walking of the beach.&nbsp; Dale looked to be sharpening up his rock throwing arm.<br /> <br /> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9GzXuSuZiETUfM0lxYqcz2-gOsG2YCiD-8wHZEIG6jE5poIGARBx05p4crrAg23OLSvEHd7ezY_9tnFulwZ21UrK26JH9pbehqLRH2qASCCas8mKEyg-Pdb66d0V_5Dmin5EoLkuH3WY/s1600/page+03.xcf1967-07+Cecil+and+Dale+on+the+beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="990" data-original-width="1258" height="502" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9GzXuSuZiETUfM0lxYqcz2-gOsG2YCiD-8wHZEIG6jE5poIGARBx05p4crrAg23OLSvEHd7ezY_9tnFulwZ21UrK26JH9pbehqLRH2qASCCas8mKEyg-Pdb66d0V_5Dmin5EoLkuH3WY/s640/page+03.xcf1967-07+Cecil+and+Dale+on+the+beach.jpg" width="640" /></a></div> <br /> <br /> <br /> <div align="CENTER"> <b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">~ </span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">~ ~</span></span></b><br /> <br /> <b><br /></b></div> <div align="LEFT"> <b><span style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: x-small;">© Joan G. Hill, <i>Roots'n'Leaves </i>Publications</span></b></div> <b>..</b>http://rootsnleaves.blogspot.com/2019/10/2019-october-21-my-mothers-albums-june.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Joan)0