Sunday, July 6, 2008
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Update -- Robert Miller funeral reunites relatives
I joined my dad [Jim Miller] in Great Falls, Montana, for Uncle Robert Miller's funeral on Tuesday, July 1st. It was so wonderful to get re-acquainted with some cousins and friends that I had not seen for 15 to 30 years.
Uncle Tom and Dad arrived in Great Falls on Sunday; I joined them late Monday evening. Judy organized and hosted all of the out of town guests with such love and graciousness. We spent many hours at her home looking at pictures (old and new), visiting and being fed wonderful meals. Judy Riesenberg and her husband, Russ, have a beautiful, blended family with children, spouses and grandchildren.
Robert's other children -- Lyndon, Arles and Shirlene -- plus some of their children and grandchildren -- were also part of the gatherings. I hadn't seen Lyndon since we were both in our early 20s. What a talented, handsome, kind man he is. It was so nice to reconnect with them after so many years. Isn't it interesting how a person can just pick up visiting with people you were once close with, and it is if the years between just melt away?
Dad, Uncle Tom and I managed to get going early enough from our motel both mornings to do some mini-tours of Great Falls. We took pictures overlooking Black Eagle Falls and Rainbow Falls (both on the Missouri river) and toured a rainbow trout hatchery and the Lewis and Clark exhibition.
To Betty [Weiland Droel]: I met Ruth [Weiland] and Ken Kitto and we had fun chatting about our mutual relatives, like Anita [Pfingsten Weiland].
What a wonderful family of children, grandchildren and great grandchildren Robert and Jeanette have to carry on their name! They must be looking down from heaven, smiling.
Update -- Virginia's rehab progresses
Back again for my weekly mail-fort and lawn mowing. Got here about 10:30, and will return fairly early Friday morning. As it is a holiday weekend, there will be no therapy, and probably half staff at the nursing home, and most friends from Alex will be going to Emo, so Virginia will need some company.
Her progress is kind of exciting. She can maneuver in and out of our van, by herself, with ease. Yesterday we drove around with Amy and checked out some available property. Today we visited the doctor's office for some forms, and then to the courthouse -- licensing -- for a handicap parking permit. That will be so helpful.
Two weeks from tomorrow, Virginia visits the doctor for an evaluation of the healing, and if all goes well, and it sure has so far, she can start putting some weight on the left foot and learn to walk again.
I'll continue to commute back home on a weekly basis to get mail and do yard work, and each trip back, I take something we no longer want or need, and give it to the girls. Why wait until the last minute?
It will probably be a couple of weeks before we get down to the nitty-gritty of house plans and costs. No super rush, I guess. It's just that as long as we have to do it, I wish it was done.
I'll do an update when I return next week.
Update -- hikers return -- with strawberry shortcake
Marci, Shalana and Krista (Weiland) wanted to bring us our whole noon meal in honor of Roy's birthday, even though belated. Steve had to work. Shalana and Krista set the table and served us on birthday plates and napkins. Marci had even brought a Thermos pitcher of coffee.
We were pretty thrilled. Roy had his choice of anything and whatever, but he chose a sandwich, so they got Subway's, just the kind he likes best. They came with those and fresh garden veggies Marci had picked from her garden and prepared with a dill dip Krista made.
They baked fresh Bisquick shortcakes to be warm yet at dessert time, and fresh strawberries that had been picked yesterday from a you-pick strawberry farm. Oh, we are so stuffed, and it was so delicious.
Strawberry shortcake is Roy's favorite for a dessert so he was enjoying it all very much. They brought a card and a gift certificate. They are way too good to us. Our niece and nephew and great nieces ... we are glad they kindly remember us.
Then we looked at 600 some pictures on the computer that they had taken on their vacation to Utah, hiking in four of the national parks there, plus Grand Canyon. Awesome formations, and this picture of a cactus growing out of a rock was spectacular.
So, that means I did not have time to write a LTTE yet, but I will.
Update -- new family on the block
Over the past couple of years, I've been working on a installing a garden and other landscaping in my backyard. I thought I'd write with an update to tell about the latest addition to the project.
So far, this year, the garden has gotten mixed results. Only about half of the tulips came up, and those that did dare to venture out of the soil were rewarded with a hailstorm that pretty much obliterated them about a month ago. However, the vegetable garden has done much better than it did last summer, the first year in which I tried planting vegetables. So far, I've been able to harvest spinach, radishes and cilantro, and will hopefully have cucumbers, peas, kohlrabi, carrots and lettuce eventually.
The shrubs I planted last year all look healthy, as does the small pine tree I transplanted last year. I had originally planted it about two years ago, but once the rest of the garden went in, it seemed out of place, so I moved it about 20 feet to the south. I was worried about the impact the move would have, but it seems to have pulled through just fine, as several inches of new growth could be seen on each branch this spring.
This past Christmas, Coni's brother Jeff gave me a small bird house and a shepherd hook from which to hang it. I installed it next to my tool shed this past spring, unsure if it would actually attract a tenant. I hung it rather hastily, using some thick wire I had on hand. The wire looked a little sloppy, and the front of the house faced toward the shed rather than the yard. I made a mental note to figure out a more aesthetically pleasing replacement for the silver wire. But like most of my mental notes, it has remained in my figurative "to do" list and never been crossed off.
Later in the spring, as I was dragging the lawnmower out of the shed, a small bird flew out of the bird house and perched in a nearby tree, from which it proceeded to screech angrily at me. I looked into the bird house, and sure enough, I could see twigs and grass, a sure sign that construction of a nest was underway.
Each subsequent time I have visited the shed this summer, my new tenant has repeated its performance, reminding me that I best not disturb her domain. However, this past Sunday, I noticed a new sound: tiny, high-pitched chirps that seemed to be coming from within the house. I peered into the small front door and, sure enough, I could see two tiny beaks, stretched wide open and pointing skyward. Sorry guys, I don't have any food for you. But now I understand why ma has been so nervous lately! And I guess I better hold off on replacing the wire from which your nursery hangs.
I tried to snap a picture of the new babies, but didn't have any luck. They remained hidden in the nest until I snapped a picture. The flash caught their attention and made them stick their heads up and squawk for a couple of seconds, allowing me to see their tiny heads again. But by the time my camera was ready to take another picture, the subjects had settled down and hidden themselves once again.
I did manage to get one picture in which their upturned beaks can be made out above the twigs of the nest. I will check in on them periodically, and if I can get a better shot of them later, I'll pass it along.
Update -- one chance in a hundred
Recently, Dorothy and I were in Little Falls, Minnesota. We went to Perkins for a bite to eat. As we were waiting for our order, I mentioned to Dorothy, "I wonder if anybody in here knew my friend Arvid Christopherson, who once lived at Dwight?"
Arvid -- if still living -- would be 91 years old, but he passed away in 1977. Arvid was principal at Little Falls Middle School.
When we finished our meal, I noticed some elderly folks nearby, so I went over. I excused myself and asked if they were local folks, to which they said they were.
When I asked if they knew Arvid, they were surprised; they all knew him, in fact sitting there was a lady, age 102. She told me she taught first grade in Arvid's school and this 102-year-old-lady's daughter was a student of Arvid's. She spoke kindly words about him.
This elderly lady appeared to me to be about 80 years, as she was very spry and her hearing was better then mine. She spoke of knowing him many years. Arvid died in his early 60s of an apparent heart attack while sitting in his living room.
I told her Arvid taught me how to ice skate on the creek at Dwight, North Dakota, where we all were raised. I remember buying his old shoe skates for 50 cents.
She also said she was related to Arvid's wife, who lives in Little Falls.
So if you want to know anything about anything, just ask the right people, like I did. (Some might say, "None of your business," but don't let that discourage you!)
I understand there is a statue (full size) to his honor located on the school grounds.
Day to Day R
Summer comes to the Ashby farm -- at last!
It seems to have been a slow go, getting summer rolling in Minnesota! But it's now lush and green -- beautiful!
I missed the cowboys working with the cows in action this time, but I did get a couple of pictures of their audience. Jayce, Rylie, Brooklynn, Camryn and Jolene spent some time outdoors, while Wyatt, Ben, Ashley and Beaver worked with the cattle. The job went quickly and easily, using the remodeled headgate (shown in an earlier Bulletin). Wyatt even avoided getting kicked this year, according to Ben.
One of the cows had her calf that very morning, so I got a picture of the newborn. Can't capture how cute he was trying to get adjusted to using his legs, though; he'd tumble down, or lose footing under his front legs only, and lurch about, trying to regain his footing. After some time of doing this, he finally just collapsed and curled up and rested for a while. A lot of changes in one day's time for the little guy!
We enjoyed a little outing to the Stalker Lake golf course and restaurant, last evening. It is located a few miles north of Ashby and we've found the food very good, so far. (With cooks changing, that can change, too!) Chris, Caity, Jayce, Beaver and I had an enjoyable meal together out on their porch, overlooking the greens. Of course, I needed to get a picture of them in a golf cart first!
Chris and some of his friends are out golfing on that course today. I'm sure they are enjoying this gorgeous weather we are having. And, here I am ... inside! I did get out and water my plants; that's how I know it is beautiful today!
The Matriarch Speaks W
On Monday, June 30, Don and I went visiting. It was an unplanned venture that turned out just fine. Both of Don's sisters are having medical problems cared for and we wanted to see for ourselves just how they are faring. Elaine had just had an emergency day in Fargo ... tending to a glitch in her treatment. She is home and the problem attended to.
We visited DeLoris at the Breckenridge hospital. She is recovering from intestinal surgery. She is looking well, sounding weak, and preparing for her discharge which is supposed to be some time today, July 1. Muriel (Elaine's daughter) will take her home.
DeLoris expresses great thankfulness for the kindnesses that she has experienced ... small towns take care of their own. For example, the dietitian (who is also a friend that Dodo has known for years and from her nursing home work days) has offered to do (as a friend, not part of her job) the shopping for groceries of foods that Dodo can have and then she will deliver them to Dodo's house when she is released from the hospital. Dodo is so appreciative of that and mentioned it to the doctor, too. He said that is the way things are in this small community.
On our way home from visiting Elaine and DeLoris, we stopped for an hour or so at Ashby. I really needed to see the new arrangements at the two homes there. It is nice to be able to see for myself how things turned out (and they both checked out as doing well, indeed). The sitting room in the downstairs area at Beaver and Donna's is very cozy and easy for me to fit in and put my feet up on the hassock. Then I wheeled over to see Caity's bedroom ... and also to see Jayce's new bed. Becky, Caity, and Jayce really have a lovely home ... it has such pretty surroundings.
One last comment ... the drive was lovely, the crops look great and I am glad everyone seems to be as well as can be expected!
This is a new way ... write one letter to two gardeners: Elaine Wold and Douglas Anderson, with whom Elaine shared her perennials. I do hope you are both doing well with your gardening.
The hail is being mean this year, and how much damage did it do to your garden, Doug? And then there was the threatening frost to yours, Elaine. I must have hard work to find something to worry about ... but I love flowers! I always have, but I have never had a whole lot of luck. Now my flowers are all in bowls or pots. --Dorothy
When spring came, I was wondering how I would be able to take care of my flower garden with my medical problems at that time. However, helpful sister DeLoris came over and cleaned off all the old tops of the plants and cleaned up the flower garden for spring.
After all the unseasonably cool weather and frosts, it is now looking very pretty. The seven colors of iris are blooming, the daisies are so refreshing, the Memorial Day peony is about through blooming, and several other flowers are showing buds.
My flower garden is mainly perennials, as I do not like to bend over and plant little plants out each year. It seems there is something blooming all through the summer with much less work than planting annuals. One thing I did notice was that many more tender plants came through the winter well, but the hardest hit was the Canadian Morden shrub roses, which lost lots of branches on them.
I remember the years of growing vegetable gardens with all the canning that goes with that, too. There are always enemies -- the rabbits who nibble, the heat and cold and wet and dry, the deer and 'coons who know just when the sweet corn is ready, but one has to love it to continue to plant gardens.
I find my flower garden a retreat, a place to relax and meditate and enjoy nature with the birds and bunnies and squirrels. I have many flowers with names derived from the person who gave me a root to start that plant, so one often thinks of that person as one walks through the garden. Also, some friends are made as they walk past the alley and admire the flowers and stop to chat.
I think it's just the farm girl in me that makes me want to continue in spite of the ups and down that we endure with growing things.
I'm a little discouraged on the gardening front ... the hail seems to have KO'ed my rose bushes and rose tree ... although one of the bushes still shows some vital signs. We will see. My sunflowers are coming up! This week is kind of worthless ... doesn't rain and the sun doesn't shine. Kind of frustrating. That's gardening!
LATER: (Thursday, July 3)
My first Tiger Lily bloomed today! I also have two roses and some wildflowers coming up. It's so exciting!
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.
How many can you identify?
Editors' Note: Correct guesses appear in bold face type and incorrect guesses in normal type ... generally in the order we receive them, so the first guess received is on top.
I am sure the mother is Marian, Steve Miller's wife, and the boy in the high chair is Kurt Larson. The other two are the twins, Sue and Mike. The little fellow must be the brother, but I can't remember his name.
Gert Dake Pettit
Editor's comment: Steve and Marian's youngest is Mitch ... but between the twins and Mitch there is a second daughter, Sandy ... and I would guess that is who we see at the bottom right of the photo. That also matches the information from Shari Miller Larson, who found the picture in Kurt Larson's collection recently.
Marian Miller, Susan Miller, Kurtis Larson in the high chair, Mike Miller and Sandy Miller would be my guess.
Donna Anderson Johnson
My guess would be Marian Miller with daughter Suzie Miller, Kurt Larson, Mike Miller and the little blondie must be Sandy Miller. This is a cute picture and I've never seen it before, of course, so this only a guess about Kurt and Sandy, though the others are pretty evident as to ID. Thanks.
Glenda Huisman Baker
The Guess/Mystery picture is an old picture, by the color of the oven and the style of the high chair. I wonder if that could be Kurt Larson?
Betty Weiland Droel
After supper, when I began to fold the sheep onto the bedding ground, the lamb with the broken leg was still missing. I couldn't recall when I'd last seen it. I decided to retrace our steps to see if we could find it. With Checker by my side, we headed back toward the butte. We were able to climb the butte and descend the other side, along the same path we'd come with the sheep. But there was no trace of the missing lamb.
Darkness had fallen and the desert cooled rapidly. As we picked our way down the rocky slope and onto the dry lake bed, the chill of the night shivered up and down my spine. The lamb must be lost somewhere -- out there.
In the distance, we heard the familiar, crazy yapping of a coyote. Another coyote took to yapping, this one closer than the first. Then a third entered into the maniacal song. They laughed and howled and I imagined they might be discussing the good fortune of the hunt. Checker was keenly tuned in and I expect the black hair on his shoulders may have been standing straight up; I felt a strange prickling on the back of my own neck.
Wading into the sagebrush, it was easy to imagine it as water sloshing at my trouser legs. We followed along the base of the butte (which was now barely visible in the darkness) until we reached the point at which we'd approached it earlier in the day. It was so dark I could barely see the sagebrush in front of me. There was no way I could follow our exact path across the featureless landscape. Checker took the lead and I followed a few steps behind him. Soon the dim, rocky shoreline at the base of the butte seemed very far away.
During lambing time, when I'd fed lambs with a bottle, Checker would lick the milk that dripped from their mouths and I'd say to him, "Po-o-o-r baby!" He'd learned to associate lambs and milk with those words.
Following the advice of the shepherd from Salt Lake City, I'd begun talking to Checker: "Po-o-o-r baby!" I'd say this when I could see where a lamb was lying in the sagebrush, and then I'd let Checker find it. When he did, I'd repeat again, "Po-o-o-r baby!"
He began to associate the words with looking for a hidden lamb.
So, now, I was saying the words to him, and he seemed to understand. I wondered if he knew enough to be following the course we'd charted earlier in the sizzling heat of the day. Was the lamb with the broken leg nearby?
I halted frequently to listen. The coyotes had gone silent. Finally, holding my breath, I heard the faint bleating of the lamb. Checker and I ran on toward the sound. "Po-o-or baby!" I called to him.
(What would someone have thought if they'd seen me running through the desert yelling, "Po-o-or baby! Po-o-o-o-r baby!" But not to worry, there was not another soul for miles around -- with the exception of Sherry and the girls, who were back at camp.)
I stopped frequently to listen and we'd soon honed in on the lamb. Checker circled around, making sure it didn't get away; he would have appeared as a predator to the lamb.
I praised him profusely: "Good dog! Such a good dog!" Scooping the lamb up into my arms, as I had done several times earlier in the day, I held it to my chest. I was amazed, again, by the comfort lambs seem to get from being held by the shepherd.
Somewhere -- out there -- I imagined the coyotes were slinking off into the darkness.
It was a joyous occasion: the lamb nuzzling my chin as we navigated our way back to camp, under the silent twinkling of the stars.
Larry McCorkell sent us a manuscript he transcribed from his father's tape recorded memories and made it available to The Bulletin for a series of excerpts. These stories were originally tape recorded by Bruce McCorkell of his growing up days on the homestead near Effie in northern Minnesota. They were recorded from a period of the mid 1980's until the early 2000's. These are Bruce's words of happy, sad, funny, good, and hard times.
VALLEY RIVER HAYING
We'd go down in the morning to the meadow and walk through that forest, a real spruce swamp. This is something that would be nice for you to see. You can walk through this spruce swamp and there's absolutely no brush of any kind. In fact, you don't see where you are walking. When I say swamp now, it's not necessarily wet. It wasn't a swamp as you think of a swamp as wading to your knees in the moss and some water. It wasn't anything like that. It was a spruce swamp.
The trees were good size. Those spruce trees were about six to eight inches and nice and tall. It wasn't some of this scrubby stuff either. They were nice trees and they hadn't cut it yet, so it was hard to find a trail. You could look through the spruce. The limbs weren't down to the ground. The limbs were up about 10 or 12 feet in the air before you got any little bits of limbs. You don't find many swamps like that anymore.
Those were quite the days out there at the hay meadow. We were up there a couple of different years. Some of that soup was pretty lean. We had rutabagas, potatoes, carrots, and no meat. We had a partridge or something, but we never did get a deer. Some deer came down there all right, but we never did get one. If that wasn't something.
You couldn't haul that hay out of there until the wintertime. It seemed like every winter they never got it. They were going to go up with a sled and a team of horses and haul the hay in. I never got up there to get hay because it was too cold and too far and I was going to school, furthermore, so I didn't get in on the hay hauling, which was all right. It was awful tough to get that hay out of there. The snow was deep and the horses would go clear to their bellies. I think we left a lot of hay up there.
$ A Long Time Ago !
Appalachian Trail Trek: July 1973
On the 4th of July, we celebrated Independence Day with red, white and blueberry pudding -- wild strawberries and blueberries we picked along the trail and sprinkled over instant vanilla pudding, prepared by shaking pudding mix with water and powdered milk in a one-quart bottle.
Instead of freeze-dried backpacking food, which would have cost a fortune and wasn't that great anyway, we prepared meals from grocery store items and a few specialty items by mail order. We ate quick cooking cereals, rice and pasta and mashed potatoes with freeze-dried vegetables. Powdered milk and peanut butter and powdered drink mixes were staples. We didn't worry about too many calories but we did need to pay attention to balancing our diets for such a long trip.
Menus and detailed grocery lists were planned as we walked; mail orders were sent and grocery shopping done when we got to town. Then we'd find a motel or a cabin and sort it out, apportioning food into meals and assembling meals by day and the number of days we estimated between points where we could get supplies. We would calculate carefully and mail food boxes ahead to towns where we could get to a post office. Accommodating postmasters were true heroes to through hikers on the trail, sometimes holding boxes well past the usual time limits.
In addition to the boxes with "meal kits" inside, we had a box of extra supplies and packaging materials that we mailed ahead to the next major re-supply point. We called it the "leapfrog" box because there would be several post office stops before we would need it again. Exposed film and items that wouldn't be needed for a long time were sent to our friends at "mission control."
Although most of our food came from the boxes we had prepared, we were always eager to supplement it with wild berries and fruits we picked along the way. Strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, mulberries and cherries picked fresh perked up dried food; anything we didn't eat out of hand found its way into cobblers and other simple dishes we could make on a camp stove.
"Then our speed diminished -- the mulberries were ripe. Jerri and Kyra stopped at every bush, picking and eating without concern for the time. My patience wore thin. Why today? But I joined in: three could pick faster than two.
"Jerri found a cherry tree next, with red, ripe cherries dangling just within reach. We picked a quart and tucked the container into the pack.
"More mulberries. Already purple-faced and purple-fingered, we stopped again, and again. Would we ever get to town, or ever get anywhere today?
"'Hiking schedules just fall apart during berry season,' Jill Durrance said in one of the AT books I'd read. She'd sure had that right. We walked and stopped, walked and stopped, and finally reached Linden at noon." --from Walking North, by Mic Lowther.
Celebrations & Observances
This Week's Birthdays
This Week's Anniversaries
More July Birthdays
More July Anniversaries
July Special Days
Miss Hetty's Mailbox:
Dear Miss Hetty,
Thanks for the birthday e-card. Usually, birthdays at our house are fairly low-keyed. Our son called this afternoon and asked to take us out to dinner this evening, so that will be the highlight of the day.
I sure enjoy reading The Bulletin; so many points of interest: travel and stories of yesteryear, and happenings of the present.
Everyone, keep up the good work. Thanks.
Ardis and I had a great trip; will send some about it to The Bulletin, sometime this week, I hope, to put in whenever you want. And we also, when we got back, went over and saw LeRoy and Vonnie for a while. I have a good picture of them that I am sending to you. Vonnie was going to stand beside him, but I said, "Just sit on his lap," and she obliged. I thought it is really a good picture. Maybe it could be put in this week for a birthday picture.
Gert Dake Pettit
Keep Us Posted!
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?
I am Virginia Robinson's daughter [Virginia is Don Anderson's cousin] and would like to get your newsletters for Mom.
Have a great day and God bless.
Sue -- for Virginia Robinson
We enjoyed seeing Curt and Patty [Henderson's] contribution to the complimentary e-magazine. We enjoyed the trip with them.
Thanks for sharing this.
Owen and Susan Henderson
Last Week's Bulletin Review JKL
Those magnificent beautiful Fairy Slipper Orchids were a spark of excitement as the first picture of The Bulletin this week. One has to look at that picture for a long time to get the full benefit of the intricate design and colors and beauty. Each flower alike, yet so different. Thank you for that most unusual, fragile, delicate, feminine-looking blossom.
Then the very next picture was "In Memory of Robert Miller" with Bitzi's illustration of the pine and pine cones, which were so masculine in feeling and appearance. A perfect, simple, practical photo for Robert.
The funeral will be a huge one, as even just family will be a crowd, in itself. He has lived a long, full life and left an impression and memory with all his life touched. He is uncle to my sister-in-law Anita Weiland, so we felt we were well acquainted with the Robert and Jeanette Miller family. Judy has been a friend down through the years.
I keep being more and more amazed at the beauty there is in the most simple little plant and flower, as in the photo of the Rue Anemone that Sarah Steinhauer had posted. It seems The Bulletin expresses such an interest in the photos of nature that it becomes a great interest to us as we read and enjoy the photography and explanations.
Thanks, Capt. Jack, for the Update on Virginia's rehab. It is a long, slow, painful process to recover from a hip surgery, but it sounds like she is coming along on schedule and cooperating with all required for a trouble-free recovery. We keep thinking of her not being able to do much physically toward that necessary move you will be needing to make to Alexandria. Needless to say, it will be a void and emptiness without you here.
A girl for Mom and a boy for Dad. What could be nicer? Kira and Levi are certainly growing way too fast, and we are glad for updated pictures of those two "Bulletin stars." I heard all LeRoy and Vonnie Dakes' family was in town this weekend, but we didn't see or hear from any of them.
Thank you for the Update, Carol (Printz), on your trip to visit your mother. There are only so many times you can be together and you won't regret each time the opportunity presents itself. We only have one mother.
Donna Mae, you always find the most interesting things to write about in your Day To Day column. Caity looked like she was totally enjoying that birthday song at Applebee's. So now she is 12. What a thoughtful gift for her to be moved into the bigger bedroom! A girl her age needs all the room and space there is. She's already making herself at home as she relaxes in that nice chair and footstool. We all wish her a happy year, this last year before the teens begin.
Grandpa Beaver had time enough to play with McKenna. Making memories for his family. What a clever gift for him of the Little Golden Book about dump trucks. Right up his alley. You missed getting a picture of him reading it.
LTD Storybrooke's "The Ascent" was again an attention-grabbing word picture, drawn as only Larry can draw it, and the sheep camp at Black Bull Springs was supposed to have some sheep in it, but I couldn't find them unless it was the mass of something in the foreground. I wonder if today he wonders how he ever did it when looking at the old pictures and reliving such experiences?
Bruce has another style of writing, but it sounds like it comes right from an unforgettable memory as he describes the desperately hard manual labor and inconveniences they suffered in "the good old days." I don't even want to imagine the woodworms they slept with. We appreciate what he writes as it gives us a glimpse of life then, not having ever had to live through those times myself. Roy tells about much the same kind of life in his youth.
It is so interesting when our Netherlands florist sends in such a detailed story as was in The Bulletin this time. The different kinds of plants, such as the "magical mushrooms," was almost unbelievable. Just watering them revives them. It isn't their beauty, but uniqueness, that would create sales, likely. I do enjoy a florist shop, and these unusual arrangements were fascinating.
I gasped to see the picture of Kyra on the Pinnacle in Shenandoah National Park. What a burden to be carrying the backpack and walking in so many kinds of weather and terrain. I have to believe it was done, as we have the story and pictures to prove it. To still be friends after all those days and months of such varied moods and circumstances is a miracle. Seems like it just bound that family closer. I think Kentucky Fried would like that picture for advertising purposes. Have you ever approached them to buy it? Can anyone even imagine what a sight that would be for those three to crawl up and down over the freight train blocking the trail? I loved reading Walking North.
In the Miss Hetty letter from Ary Ommert, Jr. in the Netherlands, it sounded like they have weather like we have had it. We were saddened to hear of a twin sister of his dad passing away, but 90 is a good, old age when one expects changes.
That was pretty close for Sam Mellon to get an Update written for The Bulletin, but with four jobs he has a sterling excuse. We are patiently awaiting his letter.
What a cute picture of Ken and Amy! No question about who the boss is in that family (smile). One year! The time goes fast, but oh, what happiness!
It was good to see a comment from Tom Miller (CA). We heard he will be going to his brother Robert Miller's funeral in Montana July 1st. Maybe we will get some news of that funeral from some of the family subscribers.
Who could ever keep a straight face looking at that darling picture of Kira in the big sunglasses? Doesn't look like they have to worry about neighbors too close by. We know Bitzi has been extremely occupied lately with obligations taking more time than she has to give, but we are glad she had time to send these cute things in to The Bulletin this week.
I didn't quite follow the Quotation for the day this time. About liberty being the safest thing we have. Will have to think that one over awhile.
This is all the time I have at this time, but I wanted to send a LTTE to you Editors who have worked so hard to put together this Bulletin #315. It takes subscribers sending in stories and updates and pictures, and I hope you are not disappointed. Summer is such a busy time. We wouldn't mind even fewer pages -- just so Saturday morning we will find The Bulletin in the "inbox."
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: One's philosophy is not best expressed in words; it is expressed in the choices one makes. In the long run, we shape our lives and we shape ourselves. The process never ends until we die. And, the choices we make are ultimately our own responsibility. --Eleanor Roosevelt
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.