Sunday, October 23, 2005
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Photo by Donna Anderson Johnson
Jayna Lee Swenson arranges flowers for wedding reception.
by Weston Johnson
Maple Grove, MN
It has been awhile since I've sent an update, and I don't want my Bulletin subscription to expire, so I thought I'd send a quick e-mail to let you know what I've been up to.
I have mostly been keeping pretty busy with work, including a trip to Watertown, South Dakota, a couple weeks ago to kick off a new project. Not the most exciting travel destination, but it was nice to get out of the office for a few days for change.
This fall I've been playing in a touch football league with some co-workers on Tuesday nights and playing volleyball on Wednesday nights with a group of friends. Other than that, I've spent a lot of time lately attending weddings and receptions. Two of my good friends from Ashby got married on back-to-back weekends in September and I was in both weddings, so that was a lot of fun. Attached is a picture of Coni and me at one of the weddings -- a rare picture of me in a tux!
This past weekend, my dad, Donna and I headed out to Dickinson, North Dakota, for Shane
and Jayna Swenson's wedding reception. I hadn't been to Dickinson in about
15 years and hadn't seen any of the Swensons in quite a while, so it was fun
to get caught up with them, as well as my Aunt Kathy who flew down from
Alaska for the weekend. It was also fun to meet Jayna and her family, who
were a lot of fun to visit with.
We made the drive out there on Thursday night, which allowed my dad and me to
participate in a pheasant hunting excursion on Friday morning. Saturday
morning was spent preparing for the reception. Mitzi even put me to work in
the kitchen to help prepare the day's feast, a pretty risky move considering
my very limited experience in the kitchen. Fortunately I don't think I
messed anything up too bad, and I was glad to be able to pitch in.
Saturday afternoon was the reception, after which we were treated to Mitzi's homemade pizza for supper. We got back on the road early on Sunday morning and made the long drive back home. Unfortunately I don't have any pictures from the weekend, but maybe other readers have sent pictures.
That is about all that's new with me. Keep up the good work with The Bulletin. Even though I haven't been contributing much lately, I still enjoy reading it every week!
Coni & Weston
UPDATE -- Hurry up and Kuwait
by Jim Pachan
Camp Patriot, Kuwait
So when I imagined leaving Iraq, I pictured waking up and enjoying the day, knowing it will be the last ... instead ... I was supposed to leave on the 16th, but on the 15th, about 9 a.m. the 1st Sgt. walks into my room and says, "You know you are supposed to be on the flight line at 11 a.m., don't you?"
So I had about an hour and a half to pack all my stuff. Having just got back from being on the road for three weeks, I wasn't exactly organized (not that I am anyway). So I threw all my stuff in duffel bags and a footlocker, and got somewhat ready by 10:30. I had to stop at the Orderly Room to speak to the commander and pick up awards, and actually did make it out to the flight line for briefings by 11, hoping that I had not left anything behind.
Our plane was ready a few hours after that, and it never really dawned on me till I took a step up the ramp to the C-130 cargo plane that this was my last step on Iraqi soil. Was anticlimactic, but ... the dangerous part is over.
I am now in Kuwait, at the Kuwaiti Naval base/Camp Patriot. I step outside the barracks and I can see the Persian Gulf; it is absolutely amazing, such a vivid blue. We can't swim in it, though; I'm not sure why. I WILL swim in it before I leave. We can fish off the pier. I think they catch tuna and stuff, sometimes some small sharks. There is a pool here, also.
We are working on a wash rack, getting vehicles ready to go back stateside. I am on an early shift, so I should get done with work every day at noon. It is ridiculously muggy here; feels like mid-summer in St. Louis, almost ... gets to 100 degrees by about 10 a.m., very nice.
Since this is a Kuwaiti-run base, we are observing Ramadan; we are not allowed to eat in the food court during sunlight hours or walk and drink water. Pretty much no eating, drinking or smoking in public areas. The chow hall is run normally, though. Our barracks are in a little fenced in area, so we can do anything inside the fence.
There is a pretty cool, big, mosque right in the middle of base, and they have the "call to prayer" loudspeakers going quite a bit. We are not supposed to take any pictures on base ... so I'll post mine after I get out of here.
I'm not sure how long we will be here; I have heard less than a month, and I have heard till January ... who knows? Either way, I am out of the dangerous stuff in Iraq, and it should go by pretty fast here. I hope everything is going well for everyone.
Day to Day R
With Donna Mae
Photos by Donna Anderson Johnson
Jayna & Shane by table of "goodies," left; Barbara & Glen Lee, right.
North Dakota Wedding Reception for Jayna and Shane
This past weekend had a lot of fun "firsts" for me, with the first of the firsts, being going to Mitzi and Sheldon Swenson's home in Dickinson, North Dakota. And a hearty "Thanks!" goes to them for being such great hosts!
Our time there was very fun and the eating MIGHTY delicious! Everything from lefse making (another first, seeing it made) to shrimp boils (and another...) and homemade bread, all was tasty and fun.
The rest of us did what little we could to help out, so there was plenty of scurrying around in preparation for the wedding reception on Saturday afternoon.
It was a gorgeous day, with a slight breeze that melted any of the remaining snow from their 15 inch snowfall of two weeks previous. (The sad side was seeing piles of branches all over town, waiting to be hauled away. It had really done a lot of damage.)
We got to meet Jayna and her parents, Barbara and Glen Lee, and her brother, David. It was a very animated group for visiting, which can't be beat! There was some discussion on the possibility of Tyler and David blowing something sky high, as they were experimenting continously; therefore I've included "potato shooting" as a demonstration of one of their trials. (Fortunately, no errors -- at least none that we heard about.)
Mitzi and Sheldon had hunters from the south who taught them how to do a shrimp boil, and we are grateful that they learned how so well, as the shrimp was absolutely delicious and totally enjoyed by all. Any recipes or instructions will have to come from them.
Dr. Glen Lee agreed to send some of his recipes. He said he probably won't send any of his Hawaiian fancy recipes, as he seemed to think we wouldn't be interested... I'm not sure, though; might be fun to see. He's been written up in magazines, so I know we'll enjoy his sharing any he will with us. Mitzi raved about the food he cooked for them while they were in California; made me downright jealous I hadn't been along! :-)
There was a bit of excitement on Friday evening ... something that might have seemed like a calamity to some, which Mitzi just took in stride, and I really give her lots of credit. For this purpose I will just call it the "cookie episode" that may end up being chuckled about for some time.
After our wonderful shrimp boil, there was some clamor for dessert, so Mitzi broke open some cookies for us to nibble on, which would still leave plenty for the next day.
After my first bite, I thought ... Ewww, did I get some chemical on my hands?
I smelled my hands, but ... no, that wasn't the problem. Another bite and I looked around at the others, who were all eating their cookies without too much apparent concern ... except I thought Barbara had a very questioning look on her face. I decided to try it one last time to make sure, and yes, it was definitely the cookie ... it tasted like paint or something similar to a paint smell.
Just then, Mitzi's sister Kathy piped up with, "Mitzi, these cookies taste like paint!"
Mitzi thought she was kidding until some of the rest of us chimed in, agreeing. Come to find out, she'd cooled the open cookies on a cookie sheet, in the same freezer where Sheldon was storing a paint brush he'd done the deck with at some point. NOT a good combination. After much discussion as to the what/how of it all, we were happy we'd sampled, so it wasn't the guests the next day who would discover the taste of the dessert, as "paint" flavored cookies leave something to be desired!
Thankfully, all the other covered items were still OK, or it could have been a worse disaster.
Question: Sheldon did you really take the remaning cookies to work and eat them? Beaver said you were going to do so. Hmmmm...
Mitzi's lefse demonstration; from left: Jayna, Barbara, & Glen Lee, Kathy Anderson, Joanne & Mitzi Swenson.
Mitzi & lefse, left; Dr. Glen & Dr. Sheldon do surgery on pheasants, right.
Shrimp Boil enjoyed by Weston, Barbara, Glen, Jayna, Shane, David & Derek.
The difference between gals and guys in this household, as displayed by Aunika, left; Tyler doing his potato shooting, with David watching in the background, 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.)
How many can you identify?
Answers to last week's mystery pictures (click here to review them):
That's my mom! [Vonnie Dake]
What a surprise to see her picture already in The Bulletin this morning!
Let me explain.
I've waited as much as a year-and-a-half to get articles published in other magazines.
I submitted my final copy of the Sale Pending article to The Bulletin at 10:52 p.m. last night and it was published at 7:42 a.m. this morning, less than nine hours later.
This morning before breakfast, I was going through a photo album looking for an old picture of my wife Sherry -- instead I came across this picture of "Mom and Pal." I decided I'd submit it to the Who Is This? feature -- today!
When I opened today's Bulletin, right after breakfast, just minutes ago -- there it was! You are so fast that you got it published about an hour before I found it and decided to send it.
Now that's fast! Be careful you don't melt down in a time-warp.
On the back of Mom and Pal's picture it says Mom is 8 years old, and the picture was taken on "Grandpa's farm."
I'm not at all sure, but I'm guessing the young lady on the right to be Donna Mae. I wonder how big the little tree in the picture is now? Looks like it's in North Dakota somewhere. Don't cha think?
(Larry T. Dake)
I won't say who the first picture is since I am guilty of submitting it ... but I do know that the other one is Donna Mae! Well, it is, isn't it? Yes, I am sure....!
Ginny Dake McCorkell
The girl beside the old house was born in California. The girl was with her dog, Pal. No one else had the same last name. Now the girl has a dog named Pup. The girl is me, Aunt Vonnie. I was surprised to see that picture in The Bulletin. Super surprised!!!
No Brains, No Brawn
By Larry Dake
I kept a pillow over my head, wishing the misery would go away. It wouldn't. Every ray of light, every sound, and every touch were disturbing.
The previous day, I‘d made it to town, prepared to make sales calls. My first planned stop had been a flower shop. They'd paid half down on a sign. Now the sign had been installed and I was dropping by to collect the second check, and perhaps pick up a lead for another sale.
But I couldn't make myself get out of the car. I just couldn't do it. It was just impossible. I felt like my brain was attacking itself. I'd been having more and more dark days like this. I was very ill. Defeated before I even started, I was forced to make the long trip back home empty handed.
Since the apparent chemical overload at the prosthetic shop and being laid off, I'd become very sensitive to many common chemicals. Certain foods, perfume, glue, new carpet, the smells in department stores -- all would bring this dark misery to the forefront again. My thoughts were muddled; it was like my thinking was "thick." I often had difficulty remembering even the smallest things. I must be losing my mind, I thought.
I had physical symptoms as well. Sometimes my whole body would break out with white raised spots like huge mosquito bites the size of silver dollars.
I continued physical therapy three times a week for my bad back. They would heat my muscles and zap them with electricity before helping me do stretching and strength building. My orthopedic doctor's orders were still that I shouldn't lift more than ten pounds.
I saw the neurologist the orthopedic doctor had referred me to. He was a kindly older gentleman. After many tests, he gave me a shot of vitamin B-12 and advised me to get lots of fresh air and exercise. He said the myelin sheath around my nerves was breaking down -- probably from exposure to the chemicals at my recent job. He said I should get lots of fresh air and exercise; I should get an active outdoor job, one where I didn't work with any toxic chemicals.
Yeah, right. Active, outdoor, no lifting, no chemicals -- and no brain.
The neurologist referred me to a psychiatrist, who determined that in addition to the problem with the "insulation" around my nerves, I probably had a chemical imbalance in my brain. A condition called depression. I was started on the antidepressant Amitriptyline.
I continued to try to sell signs on my better days, but it rapidly became evident I was no longer able to handle the stressful life of a salesman. I thought myself unsuitable for any job! I thought, I have neither brain nor brawn. I'm unfit as a "salesman" and I can't do the work of a common laborer. I'm unemployable, and in every regard pretty worthless!
Depression was hijacking my thinking. I was slipping into a seemingly hopeless world.
The estimate on the $100,000, triangular, electronic sign never came. I assumed my boss tried to take over the sale himself -- and probably lost it. I don't know. I never went back to see.
I really didn't quit my sales job. My boss became "unavailable" and didn't return phone calls, and I just faded away.
The darkness kept returning. One day I went for a walk on the railroad tracks, hoping to shake myself out of it. I pulled my hat low over my eyes to keep out even the light from the cloudy skies. The railroad ran parallel to the highway. Every time a car went by on the highway, it felt like it blasted right through the middle of my brain. Even the gentle rustling of the leaves on the poplar trees was unnerving -- like fingernails on a blackboard, or a cat on a tin roof.
I was reading the help wanted ads in the paper when I saw an ad that read something like this: HELP WANTED. Sheep herders to tend sheep on open range. Must have "HR2" work permit.
That would be fresh air and exercise, I thought, and sheep can walk, so there might not be much lifting. It would be active, and out-of-doors!
When I was a kid I often pretended I was a sheepherder. This could be a dream come true, I thought.
I called the number on the ad. It was an agricultural employment service.
"No," the man at the employment service said, "we're looking for experienced sheep herders who are already here in the United States. Most sheep herders are Basque, Peruvian, or Mexican."
He continued, "Americans usually don't like the lonely work of the sheep herder ... and there's no room for a family in a sheep camp."
I hung up the phone. But I was excited about the possibilities.
We had a neighbor who raised a small flock of sheep, so I went to see what I could learn from him. He was an enthusiastic promoter of sheep and gave me a lot of encouragement. He gave me a book titled Raising Sheep the Modern Way. I took the book home and devoured it from cover to cover.
I did some research and came up with a list of seventy ranches in Oregon that raised sheep.
Sherry, the kids, and I went to the post office and bought seventy post cards. We took these to a print shop and had them printed: Shepherd Work Wanted, Married couple with two children. No experience, but willing to learn. We went back to the post office and mailed them.
On the way home from the post office, as we crested a hill in our Lincoln, the engine chugged and quit; it smelled of hot engine oil. It was a long hill. I put the transmission in neutral and we coasted. At the bottom of the hill there was a used car dealer. We rolled onto the car dealer's lot in the dead Lincoln.
The used car dealer took it on trade, still smoking and dripping oil. We bought a nice little old lady's pale-yellow, four-door, economy car. It had a fuel efficient three speed on-the-column and a fuel efficient little engine. Sherry had stretched our money out in much the same way she seemed to get two yards of sewing fabric out of one. With the generous trade-in value the dealer allowed us on the Lincoln, we had enough money in the bank to buy the car. We left feeling pretty pleased with the deal we'd made.
Maybe things were starting to look up.
Photo Editor's Note: Last Tuesday was "Alaska Day," the 138th anniversary of the day in 1867 when the U.S. flag replaced the Russian flag in a brief ceremony in Sitka, Alaska Territory. U.S. Secretary of State William H. Seward had purchased "the Great Land" for an average price of two cents per acre, but skeptics called it "Seward's Folly." I enjoyed this story of Betty's trip a year and a half before Alaska became the 49th state, on January 3, 1959. By then, salmon, timber, gold and copper mining -- and later a huge oil field discovered at Prudhoe Bay on Alaska's North Slope -- had made the $7.2 million price a great bargain.
I visited Barrow about 1975 and stayed in a successor to the hotel where Betty stayed. The new hotel boasted flush toilets with recycled water -- costing "about a buck a flush," according to our tour guide. In summer, kids still played outdoors all night long, running snowmachines up and down the gravel streets. When it clouded up and rained about 6 a.m., they went home to sleep, at last, and the racket finally died down.
Betty at Top of the World Hotel, left; Ruth & Betty at Point Barrow, right.
by Betty Weiland Droel
The phone rang at work one day in 1957, and it was my friend Eda Newman on the line. She was wondering if I would be interested in going to Alaska with her. She wanted to go, but didn't want to go alone, and I was a likely candidate as my aunt Ruth Rowland was up there as a minister in our faith. There was a yearly convention over the 4th of July that we could attend, as well as seeing magnificent ALASKA.
Oh, no, I couldn't even think of going. I had payments and a job and it just seemed so far from home. I was living with my widowed mother and two younger brothers at that time, so I felt I was needed, too. So, even though she was disappointed, I had to say no, and then I hung up and forgot about it.
Eventually, I started thinking over this great opportunity, and thought, Why couldn't I? I could just take out a loan. I would have a great time repaying it as I relived the memories I would have made. So, I called her back and we started planning.
Arriving in Alaska in Anchorage was almost grand enough in itself. The view of the mountains for this Minneapolis girl was breathtaking. That was just the beginning.
The tour around Anchorage, and the souvenir shops with items made from ivory, really fascinated me. Such a small city, and so few buildings (and now, when I see the pictures Jerrianne sends, I can't believe that it is the same city. The difference between Anoka and St. Cloud.)
The convention was the highlight of our trip. There was a view of the Matanuska Valley in the background with the mountains visible from every angle. About 47 people were there until Sunday and then there were 150. It was so touching to meet folks who had saved all year long to get there. They lived in remote places so they didn't see other from one year to the next. I felt so ashamed of the many privileges I take for granted. (It is totally different now, they tell me, with the hundreds that are there.)
We decided to take a tour to Point Barrow. It is called The Top of the World. We knew we would never ever be back there to do it again. So, my Aunt Ruth, Eda, and I made an overnight trip to Point Barrow in a very small plane, over endless nothing and tundra, to just a few little huts on the shore of the Arctic Ocean. [Barrow is 330 air miles north of the Arctic Circle and 720 air miles north of Anchorage. Point Barrow is about 10 road miles north of Barrow, the town.] This is where we took these two pictures. The one of myself on the steps of the hotel is the only one taken in the town.
It was light most of the night, and the children played outside until well after midnight. None were crying, etc. as no one corrected them. They lived a most carefree life. They spent lots of time chewing on pieces of whale blubber like it was candy. They went into a cafe and got a $5 meal of reindeer steak. They left most of it. The government was giving them a good living and nothing to spend it on.
Clothes poles were made out of whale ribs, and stools from the vertebrae, as there were no trees there, just small plants and wildflowers on the cold tundra.
I was told they put their dead in boxes and slid them out of the town a ways, as it never really thawed out up there. One year the supply ship couldn't get through to them so they had to go out and chop up the boxes for wood to burn. All sounded pretty exciting to me.
I bought a piece of baleen, which was whale "teeth." I also bought a polar bear tooth. Where in Minneapolis could I find such interesting souvenirs? The plane returned to Fairbanks, which is 500 air miles south of Barrow.
From Fairbanks we went back to Anchorage by train. We stopped at several of the famous tourist places and at the mountain (Mt. McKinley). We saw real live moose and bears, etc.
We got on the plane to return to Minnesota with mixed feelings. I would have loved to just stay there and gotten a job. The pay there was tremendous, and I loved the casual living element and the ever changing scenery that was a feast to the eyes, on every side at all times. But I had obligations, and so I did get on the plane and come back -- but I brought with me a lifetime of unforgettable memories that have often come to mind through the years, and always will.
I like to keep the impression I have of Alaska, rather than ever return to find it changed in size and culture. Now, in our retirement, there doesn't seem to be the most remote possibility of making that trip.
So, anything Jerrianne or Miss Kitty write about ALASKA, I am all ears and eyes, and I don't miss a word.
Thanks for letting me share my story.
Celebrations & Observances
From the Files of 5
This Week's Birthdays:
October 24---Eric Shockey
October 26---Ardis Sigman Quick
October 27---Marlene Anderson Johnson
October 27---Rich Weiland
October 28---Derrick McNeill
October 29---Sami Larson (11 years)
October 29---Tom Miller
This Week's Anniversaries:
October 27---Don and Gert Dake Pettit (15 years)
More October Birthdays:
October 1---Brooklynn Ann Johnson (1 year)
October 4---Wesley Sigman
October 5---Leona Anderson
October 5---Steven Miller
October 7---Steven Anderson
October 10---Hannah Aydelotte (4 years)
October 10---Cody Printz
October 12---Muriel Wold Rodriguez
October 12--- Tami Anderson Hunt
October 14---Douglas Anderson-Jordet
October 14---Verlaine Weiland
October 18---Lori Anderson
October 18---Adriana Stahlecker Brown
October 18---Diana Mellon Martin
October 18---Dan Mellon
October 20---Wade Morgan Printz (6 years)
October 22---Rich Johnson (from MN)
October 30---Anne Mellon Montford
More October Anniversaries
October 1---Keith Mason and Lori Anderson (next year)
October 4---Don and Patty Bratten Anderson (8 years)
October 5---Tom and Lou Miller (32 years)
October 17---Troy and Marlee Morgan Freesemann (11 years)
October Special Days
October 10---Columbus Day (observed)
Miss Hetty's Mailbox:
Dear Miss Hetty,
Thanks so much for the birthday greeting! We're having our second rainy day here in Southern California. We aren't particularly known for thunderstorms, so this has been sort of entertaining, in a potentially dangerous sort of way. Thanks again.
Alta Loma, CA
I enjoyed reading The Bulletin as usual. One little correction in the birthday section ... our grandson Wade's middle name is Morgan, not Justin. (Since Justin is his dad, it's easy to see how that got in there!)
Harold and Carol Printz
Miss Jerrianne told Miss Dorothy she had half a mind to bake a cake in honor of her dad, Donald B. Johnson, whose 92nd birthday would have been Friday, if he hadn't passed away back in 1982. Miss Dorothy said, "Do it!" (You know those two old gals are always putting each other up to something!) Miss Kitty says she did it, too -- looked up her recipe for "Cockeyed Cake" and made one. Miss Kitty watched the whole process and told me exactly how she did it.
She turned the oven on at 350 degrees and greased a square cake pan. Then she took 1-1/2 cups of sifted flour, 1 cup of sugar, 3 tablespoons of cocoa, 1 teaspoon of soda and 1/2 teaspoon of salt and sifted them all together, right into the baking pan. She mixed the dry ingredients around a little bit with a wooden spoon and made three holes. She put 5 tablespoons of oil in the big hole, 1 tablespoon of vinegar in the medium sized hole and 1 teaspoon of vanilla in the little hole. She poured 1 cup of water over the whole thing and mixed it up with the spoon until all the dry ingredients were mixed in. Then she baked it for half an hour.
Miss Kitty never eats chocolate, because it's not good for cats, but she said Miss Jerrianne was very happy with the results. And since Miss Kitty never misses a chance to get a little taste of vanilla ice cream in her dish, when the cake was served she got to celebrate, too.
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?
Click here to review last week's Bulletin
I've been thinking it has been a long time since Doug has written any stories... I do love his Foto-Funnies! They get a chuckle every time.
Jayce's admirer sure is a cutie! Great picture of the two of them ... admiration is written all over her face!
LTD did it again! I thought I knew this guy...! haha I just didn't know everything he has been up to ... or amnesia has robbed me of the memory of them. Another great story...
Thanks to everybody...
Last Week's Bulletin Review JKL
by Betty Droel
First, I want to thank you so much for including my story about the weatherball.
That was next to my heart, and I loved seeing it in print. Am sure you have a lot
to pick from, and I am thrilled anything I send would be acceptable. I realize it
should be something the subscribers would be able to enter into and be interested
in, and the weatherball was so many years ago I wondered if anyone would remember
it. It might have belonged to an older generation, (like me).
I hope Lori and Keith are happy and getting settled and accustomed to doing the cooking, cleaning, dishes and laundry as it will be a lifetime job, ha. But, it is also so wonderful to have someone at your side to share and care and love. It makes all the mundane chores easier and purposeful.
It was great to have Chris Chap give us an update on his job with Progressive. It
would be very interesting to be on that side of 'insurance', and hope he continues
to like it as time goes on even after he gets involved with clients/customers and their attitudes, ha.
Donna Mae always has some happy episode in the children's life. I had to laugh
at the expression on Jordan's face while everyone else looked like they were having fun.
Of course we followed every word with breathless anticipation again, Larry, as you
dealt with the questionable character you described. I could not believe you would
leave us hanging in mid air about your fantastic commission. Maybe that was the
'catch' to it all. There surely must have been a catch to all you saw and felt. I
doubt I can wait a whole week for the next chapter, and PLEASE don't be too busy
or too tired to write it, -- you can dictate it to Sherry as you feed the sheep.
Once again, Beaver came through with a story to make us laugh and cry and smile and frown all the same time. I guess there wasn't anything short of the "bush treatment" to cure Tex of his exaggeration and pride. We need another chapter on those Air Force days, Beaver. You, too, are a gifted scribe.
Those baggie omelets have been mentioned several times. We just may have to try them...but thanks for the tip on using only Ziploc® freezer bags.
I sincerely missed Elaine's contribution this week. Hope she is OK.
If Bitzi created the Good to the last Dot sign, it is TRUE...The Bulletin
is just that.
Thanks again, and hope you know how much we all appreciate your constant effort to prepare such an interesting and fun weekly Bulletin,
and we want to do our part to keep you supplied with something to run.
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: You can easily judge the character of a man by how he treats those who can do nothing for him. --James D. Miles
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 email@example.com
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.