Sunday, May 15, 2005
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Photo © Jerrianne Lowther
Mama Robin has been brooding her eggs for a week...
Mother's Day 2005
From left: Chris Chap, Shawn Ostendorf, Lori Chap, Brooklynn and Jolene Johnson, Ashley Torgrimson, Wyatt & Rylie Johnson, Ben Johnson, Donna Johnson, Caity & Jayce Chap, Beaver & Weston Johnson & Coni Waltzing.
UPDATE -- Brian Lehtola
by Melanie Lehtola
Howard Lake, MN
Brian is being deployed to Iraq in September 2005. At this time they are telling him his tour could be from 18 months to two years.
He also has his two week Annual Training in July. Prior to the deployment notice, he was being sent to Germany for this training; now he will be training in Wisconsin. He also has tentative plans to attend NOC (Non-Commissioned Officer) training in Texas for two to three weeks this summer.
Day to Day R
With Donna Mae
From left, Lori Chap, Caity Chap, Shawn Ostendorf
A Wonderful Mother's Day
I can't say it enough; we have wonderful children along with their spouses, significant others and grandchildren! Our weekend included a beautiful bonfire on Saturday night, to help celebrate Ben's birthday and just hang out together. It was the perfect temperature, cool enough to enjoy a fire and without mosquitoes driving us indoors. Plus a storm that was kind enough to skirt all the way around us, with some wind gusts and just a few raindrops, which neither dampened our spirits nor the fire!
Then Sunday found a large group going along with us to celebrate Mother's Day at the Holiday Inn in Alexandria. I thoroughly enjoyed my time with them and appreciate the efforts all took to go along. The brunch had a wide array of delicious food and if anyone left hungry, it was totally their own fault. :-)
In the evening (after Beaver chased escaped cattle -- which caused us to be an hour later than planned), we took Mom & Dad out to eat and had a wonderful visit.
Beaver even gave me a card and a wonderful gift -- a lawn swing, so I can swing with the little ones. I LOVE it, got to use it before the bonfire and also put it to use while I watched him round up the herd.
Cards from the "kids" and they'd given me $ at birthday time, rounded off a super Mother's Day. Thanks to all of you!
Shawn & Mindy (Cat Who Barks), left; Brooklynn & Chris, right.
The Matriarch Speaks W
by Dorothy (Dake) Anderson
Who Is This?
Let's Play a Guessing Game: Whenever it is handy to do so we will run a picture of someone of the subscribers or staff members of our e-magazine. Tell us who you think it is -- we will let you know who was the first to guess it right -- and the correct guess -- in the following week's Bulletin.
(Send us some to run; we will line them up in our staging area to take their turn.)
Answers to last week's mystery pictures (click here to review them):
Duane, Jim, Blanche -- Is that Marjorie Olp? -- Sharon (Shari) and Steve Miller. Looks like that would be Angus ... maybe even on a visit here, by the bales?
Donna Anderson Johnson
That was a very nice picture of our family and Marjorie. Thanks much for running it, sure brought back memories. Morjorie stayed with us most of one bad winter. Every time she would announce a gospel meeting it would come another snow storm and would have to cancel the meeting.
Thanks again for your good work.
I believe the "Who Is This" picture on the left is Duane, Uncle Jim, Aunt Blanche, Marjorie Olp, Sharon (Shari) and Duane. Unfortunately I "don't have a clue" who the canine in the right picture is!!!
Carol Dake Printz
Steve isn't home so I thought I'd identify the first picture ... of the Miller family: Duane in forefront, Jim behind Duane, Blanche to the right of Jim, Marjorie Olp to the right of Blanche with Sharon in front of Marjorie, and Steve to the right of Marjorie.
I just spoke to Steve (on the phone) ... sounds like the dog was one they had ... not sure of the name, but possibly Rex...
Steve and Marian Miller
Coral Springs, FL
The picture on the left would be Jim, Blanche, Steve, Duane and Sharon. The older woman I can only guess would be of the Miller Clan. The picture on the right is a dog. :o) Sorry, that's the best I could do with that one.
Howard Lake, MN
That lady in the melon patch with my Miller cousins would be Marjorie Olp. I happen to still have two mementos from Marjorie. A postcard she sent me, and the name label she put inside my new hymn book.
I would have been about the same age as my cousins in the picture when she sent me the postrcard.
In the post card she wrote: "Aren't you glad Bouncer doesn't have to be tied with a rope so big?" (Bouncer was my dog.)
In our house we had a guest bedroom we called Marjorie's Room. One night she was either in bed or praying, I'm not sure which, when she heard "plop, plop, plop." Somehow a big green frog had escaped my pocket into "her " room!
If I remember right, she had a young co-worker named "Betty" -- who totally amazed and awed me when she showed us kids she could do the "splits" as well as any ballerina.
I dropped my empty trailer in Denver and hooked up a loaded one. It was full of box springs and mattresses.
From Denver to a furniture store in Kalispell, Montana, was just over 1,000 miles. That would be about 16 hours of driving with one eight-hour break in the middle. I headed the Freightliner, mattresses in tow, up I-25 to Cheyenne, Wyoming, where I caught I-80 west to Laramie.
At Laramie I called Harold Printz's parents on a pay phone and they offered to pick me up in a grocery store parking lot. (Harold Printz is married to my first cousin Carol Dake Printz.) I shut down my truck and left it parked behind the store.
I was with his parents for the Sunday morning meeting and dinner. It was a very welcome reprieve. The weather was cold and the truck wouldn't start when they brought me back, but Harold's dad had jumper cables. We got it going with the jump-start, and a squirt of ether in the air cleaner.
North from Laramie, I crossed some of the great open spaces of the American West. The wind was creating a ground blizzard and extremely slippery conditions. The only souls I met for many, many miles, on the two-way, were two young people standing by their car in the ditch -- waving me on.
They had appeared out of the blowing snow like an apparition. Apparently help was on the way and they didn't want me to hazard stopping on the roadway.
I remembered some history I had read on the back of a menu at a truckstop café. It told a story about a cowboy who had been caught out in a ground blizzard and become disoriented. He had frozen to death, along with his horse, near the location of the truck stop.
At Billings I got on I-90 South. The weather had changed to a crisp, sunny day, with a big, blue sky. As I neared the town called Big Timber, the Crazy Mountains came into view north of the highway, and the Beartooth Mountains, south of the highway.
Big Timber is one of many places I have encountered whose names are a misnomer. There's no big timber growing at Big Timber. In fact there are few trees of any significance.
The town got its name when Lewis and Clark came west on the Yellowstone River, which parallels I-90. They had noted a few large cottonwood trees on the riverbank near the present location of the town.
On down the freeway, near Livingston, there were signs warning of gusts of high crosswinds. At that particular location there is a local phenomenon, where cold air frequently slides down a particular canyon from higher elevations. The wind gusts can be extremely high, overturning not only semis on I-90, but boxcars on the railway that runs between I-90 and the Yellowstone River.
Two-hundred miles farther south, at Missoula, I headed north on a two-lane that winds up against the west shore of Flathead Lake, and on into Kalispell.
Years before, my Great-Grandfather Dake had come to this area to work. I remembered my Grandpa Dake telling how he remembered, as a boy, that when they crossed the mountains, there were places where the trees had deep smooth grooves worn in them, from the ropes used to let wagons down the steep inclines.
The inclines had since been smoothed by bulldozers, road graders, and paving machines, but they still gave the truck a good work-out.
After all the effort it must have taken to get to Kalispell -- a beautiful place -- I wondered why Great-Grandpa Dake didn't stay, but instead returned to Minnesota.
At the furniture store, a young man -- also from Minnesota -- helped me carry off the mattresses and box springs. He assured me that he would "never" return to the bitter winters and sultry, mosquito ridden summers of his home state.
As I deadheaded South from Kalispell toward Ennis, Montana, to pick up a load of talcum powder, the gears in my head were turning. Living in Minnesota is a choice, I thought. There are other options!
The Bolivian Beat
By Kjirsten Swenson
Editor's Note: Kjirsten returned to Bolivia for a second year of independent study, prior to entering medical school at Baylor University in Houston this fall. She is now trekking in Peru. We do not have a photo of the road she writes about here, but this one by her will give you an idea...
Bolivian "roads" often aren't by my standards.
Gravity Assisted Biking Adventure
The highlight of my last few days in Bolivia was a marvelous adventure on bike to Coroico, the capital of the Yungas Coffee and Coca Growing Zone near La Paz. Over the course of several hours, a group of other travelers and I flew down nearly 12,000 vertical feet, speeding through several distinct ecological "floors" on our way.
The adventure began early at La Cumbre, literally "the summit," a pass located at 15,400 feet above sea level. There we shivered and admired high, snowy peaks while our guides explained to us how not to die on the way down.
By the time we reached the infamous "world's most dangerous road," 20 paved kilometers and 5,000 vertical feet later, the vegetation had changed from barren Altiplano grassland to semi-tropical rain forest. The road was nothing more than a one-lane dirt shelf cut into vertical cliffs that dropped thousands of feet to a narrow valley below. Thankfully, the view of the abyss was sometimes obscured by mist and fog created as humid air from steamier climes below drifted up the valley.
Speeding downhill on a bike past spectacular scenery was great fun! The next few hours were exercise only in braking as we navigated rocks, potholes, mud, and curves until finally reaching Coroico in the early afternoon.
Sweaty and dusty, my clothes caked in mud, a shower in Coroico was the perfect end to the adventure. After uninspiring lunch, we piled into the minibus for the four-hour drive back to La Paz.
The minibus trip was actually much more frightening than the descent on bike. Instead of concentrating on the blind curves, potholes, oncoming traffic, and other such threats to my life, I had ample time to contemplate the unnerving drop-off. They say a truck goes over the edge on average every 12 days, a statistic particularly morbid considering the road's relatively light traffic. And so as our minibus climbed slowly, I found myself searching for signs of tragedy in spite of myself.
Indeed, it seemed that every corner was marked by a small cross, sometimes accompanied by a shrine, to mark the place where some unfortunate soul had departed. And far below, we spotted truck carcasses. A descending truck met us on a blind corner, a surprise that in our minibus elicited expletives in several European languages, but our journey ended without incident.
See photos on the company website: http://gravitybolivia.com/view?page=12
The day after the biking fun, I bused to Puno, Peru. Puno is ugly and cold, but well-situated for trips to the beautiful islands in the Peruvian section of Lake Titicaca. I just returned from a lovely two-day visit to a few of the isles. I'll tell you about it later.
It is probably a good thing I left La Paz when I did; it seems that the dear Bolivians are prepared to block roads again and this time the motivation is a cause much more serious than teachers' wages... I spent an extra day in Puno yesterday waiting for a blockade on the Puno-Arequipa road to dissipate.
The blockade seems to be the protest method of choice for the Peruvians, too. A section of the road at least 200 meters long was still littered with huge stones in one lane. I'm now just one bus ride away from Lima, though.
Weston & Kristie, left; Mandy & Ben Van Santen, right.
London, Here We Come
by Weston Johnson
This past April, I had a chance to take a vacation to London to visit my cousin Ben -- not my cousin Ben Henderson or my brother Ben Johnson, but Ben Van Santen, who is a first cousin on my mom's side. He and his wife Mandy (pictured above, right) have been living in London for nearly two years while he has been attending the London Film School. I figured this would be a perfect opportunity to visit London while I had a free tour guide, not to mention a free place to stay.
Meanwhile, Ben and Mandy were always
open to any opportunity to spend time with people who know that cars
belong on the right side of the highway and that football players wear
helmets and shoulder pads, not shorts and shinguards. So my cousin
Kristie and I decided to make the hop across the pond to spend some time
in the mother country.
We left on a Thursday evening. After spending one of the longest mornings
in history trying to accomplish anything at work, I finally left and met
up with Kristie to catch our ride to the airport. We arrived at the
airport at around 4:30 for our 7:20 flight -- a little early, but I guess
we can be forgiven for being a little antsy at that point. Our early
arrival gave us plenty of time to check in, find our gate, eat some
supper and take the adorable picture of us with our boarding passes that
you can see accompanying this article!
The first leg of our journey was a six hour flight to our layover in
Reykjavik, Iceland. We spent the first few hours of the flight reading,
watching the in-flight movie and eating an exquisitely prepared TV
dinner. By then, the sky had become dark except for the largest,
brightest northern lights I had ever seen, just outside of my window --
one of the perks of flying across northern Canada in the middle of the
Eventually I caught a few winks, then awoke to see a sliver of
sunlight beginning to peek over the horizon. This did not strike me as
strange until I looked at my watch and realized it was still only
midnight Minnesota time.
The time change continued to play tricks on me, as we arrived in Iceland
at about 1:20 a.m. Minnesota time, but it was already 6:20 and bright as day
in Iceland. The daylight afforded us a view of Iceland, which from what I
could see consisted of a lot of brown, dead grass, no trees and a few
distant mountains. It reminded me of a cold, wet version of west Texas.
Fortunately, we only had to stay for an hour and a half before catching
our next flight.
Three hours of flying time and another hour time change later, we arrived
in London's Heathrow Airport at 11:45 a.m. on Friday morning (5:45 a.m. back
in Minnesota). After clearing customs and finding our luggage, we had an
emotional reunion with Ben, who had met us at the airport, and an
emotional departure from our money, as we discovered that it took nearly
two US dollars to buy a single British pound. However, we were
undeterred, as we were happy to hop on the train back to Ben's apartment
and begin our adventure in London.
In the coming weeks I will stop boring you with details of flights and
airports and try to describe the various sights of London. Stay tuned!
The Wolf Behind The Water Heater
It seems that poor, innocent Doug has been getting some grief over his stories of his travails at the hands of his older sisters. Having two older sisters myself, and having spent several years married to one of his older sisters, I feel obliged to rise to his defense. It just ain't easy having older sisters, especially when they call their little brother names like Little Chief Silk Ears and dress him up as a girl all the time. They also envied my eyelashes, so, not wanting to have any attributes that a girl would want, I cut them off with a scissor. Guess who got in trouble for that one?
At our house, ice cream was a staple food. The freezer was in the basement, near the bottom of the stairs. This meant that someone was going to have to trek down the stairs to the basement for ice cream at least once a day. This usually fell to the smallest kid who could get the freezer open and carry an ice cream container up the stairs. For several years, that was me.
The light switch at the top of the stairs turned on lights at the top and bottom of the stairs. The bare bulb at the bottom cast a weak light as far as the freezer, leaving the rest of the basement in total darkness. I would sneak quietly down the stairs, absolutely silent, carefully open the freezer, and get the ice cream out. As I slowly brought the freezer lid down, I would feel the hairs on the back of my neck rising. There was no way to close that freezer without having the latch make a loud snapping sound.
So ... as the snap of the freezer latch alerted the wolf who lived behind the water heater to my presence in the basement, I knew that I had only fractions of a second to be up the stairs and through the kitchen door if I wanted to avoid being eaten by the wolf. There was no way to go around to the end of the stairs and get up them; the wolf would cut me off on the fourth or fifth step, and I would be cornered and eaten.
The best thing to do was to make a quick leap from the freezer to the side of the stairs, jump onto the fourth step, and run. Always, I could feel the hot breath of the wolf at my heels until I got through the kitchen door and slammed it in his face. Once or twice, I stumbled on the stairs, and to this day, I have no idea how I escaped.
What does the wolf who lived behind the water heater have to do with being tormented by older sisters? Well, who do you suppose told me about the wolf who lived behind the water heater? Not my mother! I don't actually remember one or the other of my sisters telling me about him, but somebody must have. And they never told me he wasn't there. And they never volunteered to spare me by going down for the ice cream themselves.
Doug, I'm sure glad all of our sisters grew up to be the wonderful people they are. From them we learned to have a sense of humor -- it was the only way to survive. And I think they like us OK, now that we're grown up, too.
This and That
by Elaine Wold
All About Norwegians
If you are one of the many Norwegians reading this (it is said Minnesota has more than any other state), you will soon be observing Syttende Mai Day! That means Seventeenth of May in English.
It was on May 17 in 1814 that Norway declared its independence from Denmark's four century rule over them. It is likened to our 4th of July. Festivities will be celebrated in many places. It could include parades, dances in traditional dress, feasting on Norwegian delicacies, exhibiting its arts and crafts, and musical numbers from fiddlers and accordion players.
Norwegians are known to be reserved people who don't readily show their emotions. If one looks at old time photographs, we notice the solemn looks on many faces. They avoid showing tears or emotions and are sometimes the recipients of jokes that portray them as very simple and ignorant. And that's in addition to all the blond jokes ... uff da!
If one thinks the people are bland, one sees that in their servings of uncolored foods also. They eat fish, fish, and more fish, white potatoes with creamed peas (to cover the green color and to extend the dish) rice puddings, lutefisk, lefse, and rommegrot (milk mush) to name a few.
The magic number for cookies in Norway is seven ... and one would find seven kinds of cookies on a large plate. These would include spritz, rosettes, sandbakkles, krumkake, kringles, tarts, and almond cookies. Of course, these are all served with coffee, the traditional beverage.
In an earlier edition of The Bulletin, I have included a recipe for flatbread, a staple in many Norwegian homes. In keeping with tradition in America, too, some brides I know have chosen to serve Norwegian wedding cake, or kransekake. Which is a "tree cake" made with various sized rings for height for anniversaries, weddings and birthdays. It is stacked to make it cone shaped; each layer is broken off into serving sized pieces.
Some of the arts and crafts we have likely all seen are Hardanger embroidery, tole painting and rosemaling designs, with red hearts and 8 pointed stars being common patterns. Viking ships and horse heads are all incorporated into their artwork.
It is interesting to note how names are given. A boy born to Hans would be Hanson, a daughter Hansdotter; Ole's son would be Olson and daughter Olsdatter. I have noted a lot of this in doing genealogy research. Also, some take the name of the farm they came from. For instance, Wold would have come from VOLDENFARM.
One of the interesting places I have visited is Little Norway, 25 miles from Madison, Wisconsin. It is like a mini-trip to Norway with its pioneer log house, situated in a valley with a winding stream, a cobbler's shop, sod roofed cottage, and a stavkirke (Norwegian timber church).
Another spot that would be interesting to visit is the Norwegian- American Museum, (Vesterheim) in Decorah, Iowa. And let's not forget the Petersburg, Alaska, Mayfest!
And now I must say "uff da," since I am not even of Norwegian descent. I only married one! For those who do not know that expression, it is like "Oh, dear," or "good grief" to Charlie Brown.
Or if you're in the mood for a bit of Squarehead Humor ... Hetty found a 'blog ... vell, uff da!
Celebrations & Observances
From the Files of 5
This Week's Special Days
May 15---Armed Forces Day
This Week's Birthdays:
May 16---Angelic Ann Freesemann (6 years)
May 17---Dwight Anderson
May 19---Ryan Hellevang
This Week's Anniversaries
May 16---Nathan and Brenda Anderson Hill (9 years)
More May Birthdays:
May 4---Beau Birkholz
May 7---Ben Johnson
May 7---Kim Mellon (Tim's wife)
May 10---Curt Henderson
May 12---James Dake
May 14---Ernie Dake
May 22---Dan Henderson
May 23---Don Pettit
May 23---David O'Brien
May 25---Amy Ellen Dake
May 26---Rick Anderson
May 28---Jason Hunt
May 28---Jazmine Jane Hill (2 years)
May 29---Kristi Kay Larson Indermark
May 31---Mavis Anderson Morgan
More May Anniversaries
May 27---Dwight and Janie Anderson (34 years)
May 31---Tom and Mavis Anderson Morgan (48 years)
May 12---Eric Anderson, North Hennepin Community College
May 13---Ben & Heather Henderson, North Dakota State University
May 27---Rachel Henderson, Glencoe High School
May 29---Brandon Hellevang, Fargo North High School
More May graduations? Please send dates and details to Miss Hetty!
More May Special Days
May 1---May Day (hanging May baskets day)
May 8---Mother's Day
May 30---Memorial Day
Hi Miss Hetty,
Thank you for the card that you and the staff sent me. I find it amazing that the people that work for Hallmark can keep coming up with ideas that make me laugh until my eyes water. In the near future I will write about the ending of school and my birthday weekend; hopefully this week I will get a chance. Well I better get back to work, so I will talk to you later.
To Our Readers:
All 150 back issues of The Bulletin are now archived and readable -- and searchable! -- on the web. Most of the collections are complete, but a few others are still being worked on.
Please drop Miss Hetty a line and tell us who, and what, we've missed. And how about a report (photos welcome) of YOUR special celebration?
+ LETTERS TO THE EDITORS?
Beautiful Mother's Day edition! Loved it.
Donna Anderson Johnson
I'm still scanning the screen altho The Bulletin has finished printing.
The pictures are so clear and vivid and real and bigger on my excellent screen.
I JUST SAW THE ONE OF BILL AND AMY DAKE ....... their marriage. I can't believe it. My dear friends that are a part of my precious memories, right there on the page in the beginning of their lives. What a treasure. I am so glad to see that.
Any more good pictures from long ago? That's when I remember best.
Thanks again, and now I really and truly am going to read the printed one.
I just finished reading the new Bulletin. (for the third time). Sat 1:07 p.m.
It was an especially interesting one for some reason. I really loved the pictures of
Storybrooke Farm. I'm sorry there weren't more pictures, and a "Larry" detailed
description of the process of shearing. Amy looks very adept at that, and I do
think she deserved a rest after handling the sheep like that at her size and age.
Maybe Larry is so used to that work that he didn't think it was important to tell
us city folks about it from start to finish. The sounds, the smells, the whirr of
the shear, the weather -- he missed an interesting story. But, maybe he wasn't
in the mood after such a strenuous project.
That's OK, Larry, just write when that new grandchild is sleeping.
Larry McCorkell is one fortunate person to have gotten that work so soon after
leaving his last job. The NWA is fortunate, too, to have such an honest dedicated
experienced humble man -- few and far between.
Another thing I missed was the Netherland's report and pictures. We here in
the USA are fascinated by anything from another country, like Bolivia, etc.,
and even a short paragraph is always a special feature. I looked back for it,
but they must not have sent one this week.
What a lot of work to put that together so neatly and artistically, every single week. I want to say it is very much enjoyed and appreciated, and even though I'm just a "guest" of the family Bulletin, it is extremely interesting to me having known so many of the folks the stories and pictures are about. Thanks for clicking on Roy and Betty ------------------
Editors' Note: We aren't buying this "just a 'guest'" claim, Betty. You're a full contributor -- and a much appreciated member of the "cheerleading" squad that keeps the rest of the staff going for it!
I know I won't be the first to guess because I just read The Bulletin this morning at work. Brandon and Brianna came down with fevers this weekend, so I didn't get a chance to even turn on the computer.
Got a good chuckle from the Foto Funnies this week.
I appreciate all the work that goes into The Bulletin. You all do a superb job!
Howard Lake, MN
What a fun Bulletin this week! I have a soft spot for animals and all the photos were outstanding, and so appropriate for the Mother's Day edition.
Every week I look forward to The Bulletin and today played hookey from helping plant the garden when it came. Sheldon will forgive me though; he always reads it, too!
I appreciate all the work of the editors to make it interesting. Isn't diversity a wonderful thing? People from so many families, generations, states and continents are getting acquainted through the pages of The Bulletin.
Keep up the great work!
Sheldon & Mitzi Swenson
Just a short message to you... I am busy painting in my house again; this time I started the room where my computer is. After that the living room and one wall in the kitchen. You see busy again and not much time for the computer. All is fine here and I feel OK. Still not very warm and also coming days will be cool.
Greetings from the Netherlands,
Ary Ommert, Jr.
This morning I finally got around to reading the latest edition, and
it was quite a read. Your story about lessons can be summed up in one
word: Yeee-ouch! I guess the painful lessons tend to take better than
the not-so-painful ones.
I enjoyed hearing from Ginny; she writes a breezy and entertaining letter! Larry's pictures are always very engaging; he sure has an eye for composition.
All in all, it was an engrossing read, a fine way to spend my morning
"down time." Thanks for providing such a vital service!
St. Cloud, MN
To search a name in Who's Who or Who's Where: click on the link to open the page, then use CONTROL F on a PC or COMMAND F on a Mac. To search for a second occurrence of the name, use CONTROL G on a PC or COMMAND G on a Mac. (This works on ANY web page with text, unless the text is converted to an image. Chances are, it works in your e-mail, too.) HINT: Search by first name only, as most entries list the family name once but do not repeat the last name for each family member. In Who's Where you can search on state or city names, too.
QUOTATION FOR THE DAY: I'll study and get ready and be prepared for my opportunity when it comes. --Abraham Lincoln
EDITOR'S POLICY: If you wish to subscribe to The Bulletin, simply send me a statement of that fact. If you wish to keep receiving it I hope you will contribute to one of the columns that are running in this family epistle (at least occasionally!). My e-mail address is firstname.lastname@example.org
This Bulletin is copyright Dorothy M. Anderson; the contents are also copyrighted by the authors and photographers and used with their permission, and the contents are not to be used for any commercial purposes without the explicit consent of the creators.