Sunday, November 12, 2006
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UPDATE -- a wonderful family weekend
Last week was very special. Ernie and I spent the first part of the week in Madison, Alabama, with Jennie's family. We took the kids to Disney on Ice, we visited the Huntsville Space Center, and I went to school with Ethan. We were there for Trick or Treating on Hallowe'en.
Wednesday morning we all headed for Tennessee for a day as tourists. The kids rode with Grandpa and Grandma most of the day, so we had a very interesting day!
Thursday we went through the Great Smokey Mountains National Park. It was beautiful, as usual. Our destination for the weekend was a beautiful rental house in the mountains south of the park. Greg and Sonja joined us there Thursday night.
Friday we took a four-hour train ride out of Bryson City, North Carolina. It was a great way to spend time together and see some wonderful country, as well.
The rest of the weekend we spent at our lovely cabin, relaxing and being together. We hiked up the little mountain road by the house, made a couple of bonfires and made s'mores, played games, put puzzles together and just had good family time.
Sunday morning, we all were back in vehicles, heading home. I appreciate my family and it is special just being with them. It wasn't like going to Europe or on a grand cruise, but it was a perfect vacation that I will long remember.
UPDATE -- Tom and Mavis reach winter home
Tom and Mavis Anderson Morgan "reported in" at 11:15 EST this morning from Grapefruit Lane. They drove from Wesley Chapel, Florida, this morning.
They were greeted and welcomed back by several neighbors who saw them driving into the park and arriving at their place at 10 a.m. They found everything OK there and Fran had turned their refrigerator on, so it was ready for groceries. They will be arranging a telephone land line soon.
Lindsay and I went to the visitation and prayer service for Harriet Tufte, the wife of her third grade teacher, Dr. Clark Tufte. He was also Brandon's 5th grade teacher. His wife had a stroke last Thursday on her 69th birthday, and she died on Monday, which was his birthday. They had reserved tickets for Lindsay's musical for last Friday evening's performance, and he called that day to tell us about her condition and that they wouldn't be coming. Her third grade class was the last class he taught before retiring in 1999 and he keeps in touch with all of them by attending their school events and sending birthday cards to each of them. He was at Brandon's graduation reception last spring.
UPDATE -- Verlaine and Betty visit Diana and Maralee
Bitzi had some sort of "bug" and decided it was best not to take it to Diana, but Verlaine Weiland was glad to go with me in her place. Verlaine made a beautiful fruit basket for Diana. I rode with Verlaine as it was almost walking distance from their house to Diana's.
You would have cried, but Verlaine laughed, when the basket of fruit slipped off the seat of the van and fruit went rolling all over the front seat and floor. While I went into the post office on the way over to Diana's, Verlaine put the basket back together as well as she could.
When we arrived she explained what had happened, but it didn't faze Diana or Maralee as they said they loved fruit and could wash it, no problem. That was the first part of our going to visit Diana. Sort of a disaster, we thought.
We found their home just fine, and Diana was at the door to welcome us in. We were glad she seemed to feel pretty good that day. We met Maralee, her daughter who she is living with now, and that was a treat in itself. Maralee and Verlaine had a lot in common as Verlaine has a window covering business and Maralee is very creative and had sewn her own curtains and pillows. So, those two had a lot to chat about.
You would never have guessed it, but Maralee has seven cats. A beautifully clean and fluffy cat came out to investigate -- and soon a couple more followed, but they were shy. They are so beautiful, and a very big part of Maralee's life.
We felt so enriched to have met and visited with Diana and Maralee. We were served coffee and cookies and soon it was time for us to be on our way.
Of course we talked Bulletin. I did take some pictures which I asked Diana if I could share with The Bulletin readers ... and she kindly left it to my discretion. So here is a picture of a mom with a loving daughter ... and a picture of one of Maralee's beautiful, fluffy cats.
The Matriarch Speaks W
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? What was the occasion?
I believe the picture is Uncle Jim, Uncle LeRoy, Stan, his dad Uncle Billy, Uncle Don, Great Grandma [Mary Greer], Aunt Blanche, Aunt Vonnie, Aunt Dorothy, sure looks like my Grandma [Julia] Sigman, Aunt Lois, Aunty, Grandma [Amy Dake] and Carol.
Ardis Sigman Quick
Editor's Note: Great identification ... the only error was in thinking that was Aunty to the right of Blanche ... for that is Carol Dake Printz's Grandma Burah Gandy. Now then, as to what was happening in the picture: I think we were either tieing or quilting a quilt as a wedding gift for your mother and dad [Gertrude Dake and Loren Sigman] ... and it then makes sense that your Grandma Sigman was helping.
This week's mystery picture is very interesting. I didn't know there were "quilting bees" at Grandpa and Grandma Dake's house!
I'm not sure of some, but I'll try ... around the back of the room, left to right: Jim Miller, LeRoy Dake, Billy (Bill) Dake holding Stanley (Bill) Dake, Donald Anderson, Great-Grandma Greer. Around the quilting frame, left to right: Vonnie Dake (isn't she pretty!), Dorothy Anderson, ??, Lois Dake, and continuing around the other side of the frame, Blanche Miller, Grandma Gandy, Grandma Dake, and me (Carol Dake).
Carol Dake Printz
Editor's Note: As we might expect, you missed naming Ardis's grandma -- Julia Sigman -- and she missed naming your grandma -- Burah Gandy.
Another fine Bulletin! And I liked the mystery picture, as I think I can name many of them...
Start at the left, back: Jim Miller, LeRoy Dake, Billy Dake holding Stanley and Don Anderson....
At the quilt: Vonnie Dake, Dorothy Dake Anderson (Our Madam Bulletin Editor) Alice Endresen (I think), Lois Gandy Dake (Mrs. Billy Dake), Grandma Greer, Blanche Dake Miller, "Mom" Gandy (Lois's mother), Mom Dake, and Carol Dake, daughter of Lois and Bill ... I think!
Editor's Note: You have a good memory ... the one you guessed as Alice is really Julia Sigman ... and her granddaughter Ardis Sigman Quick tells of a visit to see her in Bulletin #128.
I studied and studied that picture of the quilting bee. I THINK I see Jim Miller and Billy on the very left, Then Vonnie Dake, Don Anderson, Dorothy Anderson, another Anderson (brother of Don), (?), Billy's wife, Grandma Anderson, Blanche, (?), and Amy -- and the cute little girl in the front is Sharon (Shari) (Miller).
Well, how'd I do?
Betty Weiland Droel
I had recently completed cutting from the hillside an earthen pad for the newly constructed feed bunks. I had used a John Deere 750 bulldozer with rippers and a hydraulic angle blade. I was pleased with the results. My boss also seemed to be. He had come from the main ranch to "finish" the earthen pad with the ranch's road grader.
The Heavy-Metal Toboggan
After my boss put his finishing touches on the new earthen pad, he parked the road grader and went back to the main ranch. I walked up the hill from the lambing shed to check out his work.
His grading had left my "masterpiece" looking rough and wavy. Rather than letting the grader's length do the job of cutting and filling, it appeared he had tried to cut and fill by raising and lowering the blade hydraulically.
Disappointed with this final touch, I took the bulldozer up and back-bladed the pad to my own satisfaction. I finished before dark.
I parked the bulldozer up at the north end of the pad and went back down to tend to the lambing. The feed bunks could be moved into place mañana.
About six inches of heavy, wet snow fell overnight, but the morning dawned clear and calm.
Martinez, the manager of the cattle feedlot, came by to borrow the bulldozer. It roared to life, sending up a column of white smoke.
He started off across the hillside, just below the newly bladed pad and above the row of newly constructed feed bunks. The ranch carpenter had built the bunks from long, wooden planks, short pieces of railroad ties, and half inch steel pipe.
About three-quarters of the way across the hillside, the bulldozer's highly polished tracks turned into toboggans and sled runners.
At a high rate of speed, the bulldozer slid sideways down the hill on the newly fallen snow. It crashed through the two rows of feed bunks -- smashing several of them to smithereens. The sudden impact sent splinters flying through the air. The bulldozer slid past the bunks and on through a woven wire fence, before starting into a spin and coming to a sudden stop.
I was standing nearby and got full benefit of the surprised and startled expression on Martinez's face. I think at that moment he'd rather have been astride a bucking cow pony somewhere south of the border.
Fortunately, no one was hurt. There were only broken boards, stretched out wire, and a good laugh. The boards and wire belonged to a kindly, rich man -- who lived very far away.
The laugh belonged to me.
Greetings from the Netherlands
by Ary Ommert, Jr.
Maassluis, The Netherlands
Garden Center Almost Ready For Christmas
At the end of August we started with the preparations of our Christmas display. It is located in two places in the garden center. In the part where my house plants are, you can find the decorations for in the tree, gift articles, candles, etc. In the other part you find the real and artificial trees, lights for in the trees and articles to make your own decorations. The real Christmas trees will arrive at the end of November.
We started with a new tile floor over the existing floor. These are the dark parts with an aluminum edge around it. After that the tables and displays were placed and now we could start to bring the articles in. We always try to work with colors. In this way you can be very creative how to make combinations. Purple and pink are new this year. When you look at the pictures you see this is not possible to build up in a week.
From my house plants, I have included two pictures of the most popular plant now -- the Cyclamen. It's also available in a mini-size and in the other picture you can see the normal size Cyclamen.
Also included is a picture from our Lemax miniature articles. You can build a village with railroad and a harbor and decorate it with trees and people. Most houses are lit and many things are moving or make music. We made the display to show people what you can make from it.
You can see what sorts and sizes of artificial trees we have, even in pink and red.
Hope the pictures give you an impression how the Christmas show in our garden center is. To build and complete it was much work but we get many compliments from the customers.
Greetings from the Netherlands,
Ary Ommert, Jr.
At My Uncle's Horse Farm In Colorado
I woke up in the motel room in Grand Island, Nebraska, showered and packed the few belongings I had unpacked the previous night, eager to get back on the road. I stepped out into the brisk morning air to load my luggage into my car, which was covered in a thin, white coating of frost. I blew puffs of steam as I filled the tank with gas, while the cold morning air nipped at my ears. I had expected the weather to warm gradually as I drove south, but I guess I hadn't made it far enough.
The good news was I was back on the road at a respectable hour of the morning. That, combined with my long night of driving the night before and my imminent crossing into the Mountain Time Zone, meant I would reach my Uncle Will and Aunt Mary Jo's place early in the afternoon, leaving plenty of time for visiting.
My mom's brother Will and his wife, Mary Jo, live near Calhan, Colorado, about a half hour drive west of Colorado Springs. Last time I had visited them, they still lived in their old house in Colorado Springs and had just bought the land where their house now stands. My mom, my brothers and I flew out there that summer to help them fence in their land, on which they planned to raise horses.
My brothers and I were fence building experts back then, having been swept up in the high tensile fence building craze of the early to mid-1990's. Actually, I don't know if that trend exploded beyond the Johnson farm, which represented my only portal into the farming industry, but it sure seemed popular, given the miles of fence my dad enlisted us to construct.
As I drove across Nebraska and into northeastern Colorado, my anticipation grew as I tried to picture what the land we had fenced so long ago looked like now, with horses grazing around the recently completed home and barn. I exited I-76 and headed south to Limon as the vast prairie began giving way to rugged foothills and forests of ponderosa pines. Soon I was pulling into the driveway, just as I remembered it. Except, where a tractor and pile of fence posts had been in my memories, a beautiful house now stood.
I pulled up to the garage and by the time I got out of my car, I was greeted by Will, Mary Jo, a neighbor who had dropped in for a visit, and two friendly dogs. After exchanging handshakes, hugs and a couple of wet kisses to my hands (the latter only from the dogs), we headed into the house, where Will and Mary Jo gave me a tour. The home is beautifully decorated, warm and inviting, with a rustic touch that seems perfectly suited for a home on a horse ranch. We spent most of the afternoon sitting around the kitchen reminiscing about our fencing exploits and catching up on each other's latest news.
As evening neared, it was time for Will to feed the horses. I trailed along to see the horse barn, which is down a path about 50 feet from the house. Will pitched hay into each stall, telling me a little about each horse with every toss of the pitchfork.
"We've had Bailey for years now; she may have even been around last time you were here ... And this guy over here, he's not even two years old yet. He still acts like a kid! We'll be sending him off for training soon." It was amazing to hear his descriptions. He has spent so much time with his horses that he knows every nuance of their personalities, perhaps better than he knows some of his human friends!
After the chores were finished, we retired to the house for a delicious dinner of ham and scalloped potatoes, prepared by Mary Jo. It occurred to me that, despite being on vacation 1,000 miles from home, I was enjoying the best home cooked meal I'd had in quite a while!
Eventually the evening wound down and soon it was time for bed. The next morning, I awoke to the smell of Will cooking pancakes from scratch. It turns out both Will and Mary Jo are good cooks! I gave a moment of consideration to scrapping the rest of the trip and just moving in with them, but decided that might push the limits of their generosity. Best to thank them for their hospitality and get back on the road. So that is what I did. But before I left, Mary Jo made me a couple of sandwiches -- leftover ham and spicy mustard on rye. A welcome addition to the cooler of food I had packed for the trip.
As I pulled back onto the gravel road, headed for Colorado Springs, then Albuquerque, I resolved that I would come back sometime when I can spend more than one too-short day. I hope that opportunity comes around soon.
To be continued...
The bird huddled in a small plastic container, the kind cookies are packaged in at the supermarket. It was perched on a twig in a bed of small stones covering the bottom of the carton. Its eyes were closed, its head hunched near its body, constrained by the clear plastic lid.
Just an hour ago, the bird had been free to fly about the forest, gathering food in preparation for the winter she could sense was coming by the hint of a chill in the wind that whistled through the ponderosa pines. She darted among the treetops before swooping down, picking up speed as she neared the ground. I don't suppose she even felt the blow that would lead to her incarceration in the plastic cell. Certainly never saw it coming. Maybe heard a thud, but everything must have gone black before she hit the ground.
* * * * *
Will led me to the screened-in porch, where the plastic box containing the injured bird sat on the glass top of a table.
"I heard it hit the window," he explained. "Luckily, I found it before the cat did. I could see it was still alive so I brought it in here."
"Ever since we built this house, we have had birds flying into the living room windows. We hung tin foil from all of the bigger windows. We thought that birds would be more likely to see the windows before they hit them, but it doesn't seem to help."
I had noticed the pieces of tinfoil hanging in the windows and had wondered what they were. I had assumed they were some sort of decoration. Each sheet was twisted in the middle and resembled a large bowtie hanging sideways in the window, reflecting the afternoon sun.
As Will recounted the story, he opened the lid to take a closer look at his patient.
"Its left eye is open now, but the right one is still closed."
He lifted the twig between his thumbs and forefingers. The bird clung to it, balancing on its perch. He moved the twig up and down quickly, hoping the bird would instinctively flap its wings to maintain its balance. But she did not react, just continued to cling to the twig with her head hunched low to her breast.
He placed the twig back in the bed of stones, but the twig rotated forward, causing the bird to lurch forward and land face first in the stones. She made no effort to right herself. We couldn't help but laugh at the sight of this bird tipping forward onto the ground. Will rotated the twig, returning the bird to an upright position, and closed the lid. We returned to the house.
"How does it look?" Mary Jo asked.
"I don't know. It still seems pretty out of it. I don't think it's going to make it."
"Well, let's just give it some time. Maybe it will come around."
* * * * *
The three of us continued on with our afternoon. Will and I took a drive up the road to visit a horse of his that was being trained by a neighbor. Mary Jo stayed in the house to entertain a friend who had stopped by.
In time, Will and I returned to the house and ventured to the porch to check on the bird. Both of her eyes were open now, and she seemed slightly more alert. Will lifted the twig, rolling it again between his thumbs and forefingers. This time the bird's wings instinctively shot up to help maintain her balance. The sudden movement caught us both off guard. We smiled and looked at each other, as if to see whether the other understood the significance of the flapping of those tiny wings.
"Maybe she is starting to come around after all," Will speculated. "I should get her some water."
He went into the kitchen, and soon returned carrying a small cup of water and an eye dropper. He drew a small amount of water into the dropper and inserted the tip into the bird's delicate beak. Its beak and throat began contracting as it drank down the drops of water.
As he continued to water his tiny brown patient, Will began reminiscing. "Ever since I was a little boy, I have tried to save animals. I can remember back on the farm, my brother and I trying to save birds, turtles, frogs or anything else we found."
Soon the bird stopped taking any more water, so Will gently closed the plastic lid and we returned to the house.
"It looks like it's doing a little better," he told Mary Jo.
"Good! Maybe it will make it after all."
* * * * *
As evening approached, Will completed his evening chores, feeding hay and grain to his horses and cleaning their stalls. Meanwhile, Mary Jo was busy in the house, preparing supper for all of us. We enjoyed our meal, and by the time we finished, darkness had swept over the forest and the temperature had begun to drop.
Mary Jo went to check on the bird, and returned to file a report.
"Both of her eyes are closed again. She is not really responding. I don't think she is going to make it."
"I suppose I will have to kill it," Will said. It was the last thing he wanted to, but it was starting to seem like it would be for the best.
He went out to the porch and returned to the living room, cradling the bird in both hands, the way one would handle a delicate ornament.
"It may have just gotten cold sitting out there," he said hopefully. "Maybe if I warm it up it will show some signs of life."
He held the bird in his hands for a few minutes, but in time it became evident that no signs of life were forthcoming. While the bird's sides continued to puff with each tiny breath, her eyes were still closed tight.
Will placed the bird back on its perch in the plastic box, hoping she would roost and balance herself. But again, she tipped forward, her face hitting the bed of stones. This time, no one laughed.
"I don't think it's going to make it," Mary Jo said sadly.
"No," he agreed. "Might be brain damaged. She just never really got any better. There probably was nothing we could have done."
We sat silent for a moment. Wordlessly, Will rose from his chair and carried the bird in his hands as he walked out the front door. Mary Jo and I remained in our chairs.
"He's going to be really bummed when he comes back in," she said.
Soon the door re-opened. Will entered with empty hands and closed the door tightly against the cold October night.
o In Service To Our Nation j
Staff Sergeant Daniel Mellon
May I begin this article with apologies to all of you servicemen who undoubtedly did much more to serve your country than I did?
I was married to Nancy at the tender age of 19 and was pretty certain I didn't want to go to Viet Nam. Since I was not much of a student at that point, joining the National Guard appeared to be my salvation. I joined the California Army National Guard in October of 1969 and was sent for basic training to Fort Jackson, South Carolina. Upon completion I was supposed to go to Military Police School at Fort Gordon, Georgia, but there was a mix-up and I spent the remainder of the four months computing pay vouchers in the Finance Center.
After a year in my Guard unit, we bought a house and moved over 60 miles from Santa Monica, which meant I had to find a unit to transfer to. There was an Air National Guard unit near my home, and I was able to transfer services. Shortly after, they banned such inter-service transfers, so I felt pretty lucky.
I became a member of the Security Police unit at the Ontario ANG Base. In my early years, we flew the F-102 Delta Dagger (fighter plane). Our unit had an Air Defense Command mission and, as such, we had responsibility for the air defense of a portion of the west coast. Our planes were equipped with nuclear weapons, so both the planes and the integrity of the base security were important business.
About 95% of our unit was composed of police officers in their day-to-day employment. I was not, and I had a pretty good head for details, so I became a paper-pusher. They really didn't want me running around with guns, anyway. I spent eight years in the Guard and was the NCOIC of my unit upon discharge. I had reached the rank of Staff Sergeant and was due for promotion.
We owned a business at the time and the two weeks in the summer was going to be a problem, so with regret I resigned. If I was, oh ... 30 years younger, I'd like to go back and finish the 20, but that is no longer in the cards.
The role of the Guard and Reserves is clearly more serious and dangerous now than it was for some of us in those days. To all of you service men and women, who have given so much, please accept my heartfelt appreciation for your service.
To all our veterans, everywhere: Thank You!
Celebrations & Observances
This Week's Birthdays
This Week's Anniversaries
More November Birthdays
November Special Days
Miss Hetty's Mailbox:
Dear Miss Hetty and The Bulletin Staff,
Thank you for the birthday card. I enjoyed it very much.
You all do a great job every week and I can't tell you how much I look forward to receiving The Bulletin each week!
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?
Wow! Suzanne's picture was stunning when I opened The Bulletin! Nice way to start off. I really enjoyed watching the progress of the warm, woolly socks! Hats off to Sarah for taking on a bigger than life project! Enjoyed The Bulletin once again!
Patty Anderson Henderson
Photo Editor's Note: Just when you think you've seen everything, a picture of CHICKWEED gets the front page slot in The Bulletin!
Great Bulletin, thanks again for all your work ... and yup, that's Lexie.
Loved The Bulletin! Enjoyed Weston's writing; he does such a good job. Larry's story got me to laugh out loud! So brave... ;-) Thanks again, for all your hard work!
Could you let me know who provided the quilting picture for [last] week's Bulletin? As I quilt often and the picture is my kin, I'd like to frame a copy and hang in my basement "Farm Room."
Ardis Sigman Quick
Editor's Note: The picture was sent to us by Ginny and I think she would be able to find a way for you to have a copy. The picture may be a little elusive, as I understood she found it in a large number of pictures that belong to your Uncle LeRoy.
Wow, what a stellar issue! It was great to see some writing from Weston; I have always hoped that he would do more for The Bulletin. He seems to have inherited his dad's penchant for writing with a very contemporary twist. I hope he continues to contribute!
Ginny's pictures were very delightful ... the "nature's quilt" was truly beautiful and the "pumpkin baby" was hilarious!
I should also mention (perhaps a bit late) that is was fun to witness the return of Miss Kitty in the issue before last ... that cat can write! (It's like she went to Augsburg, or something.)
Keep up the great work!
I have enjoyed the last few Bulletins so much. It was wonderful to see Uncle Tom and Lou and Cheryl, too. It was encouraging to see LTD's stories again. Thanks for all that everyone puts in to make it happen!
Carolyn Miller Dake
Last Week's Bulletin Review JKL
When I got a first look at the first picture, I thought it was colorful and interesting, but as I studied it to see what it was really all about, I saw that it is leaves on crushed rock under the green vine. It made me think of the little place beside our back door where we have some crushed rock under a green vine. The leaves have all blown onto it and when those rocks are full of leaves they have to be removed by hand. The blower just blows the stones onto the sidewalk. Roy tried to tell me this would happen when I insisted on stones. So, my point is, that the picture of the leaves on the stones was really pretty, but we will be glad for that blanket of snow on ours!
Thinking of Leona Anderson facing the daily teaching of her variety of students when the former teacher's style was "organized chaos." It will take some courage to appear confident in order to hold their respect. We wish her luck if that's the right word.
The wood cutting day was extremely interesting to me. We were warmed by some of the wood from those trees back many years ago, and looks like there are still plenty left. What a beautiful scenic memorable area. Also, what a LOT of WORK. Sinking your teeth into the final reward of Don's grilling made it all worth while.
I think of Anita Weiland, all by herself now, facing another winter there in Yankton. It can get very stormy, but she appears to be a strong courageous person, brought up on a farm with Lenore Miller Pfingsten for her mother. She cans and freezes and has a garden and flowers -- a typical, old-fashioned, capable, hard worker. Very healthful meal plans. My brother was fortunate to have been her husband.
"A new grandma-to-be," by Peggy McNeill, sounded exciting. We are looking for our new great grandbaby in February. Our grandson and his wife's very first child. So, we will follow the updates on that about March 17, Peggy. That's St. Patrick's day -- my sister Ruth Kitto's birthday.
I love the Photo Illustrations by Virginia McCorkell. The "finger food" was so cute.
We were relieved to know the Aydelotte family safely arrived in California. It seemed like an impossible trip with all those miles ahead of such a big family in uncertain weather, but we were glad for that Update telling that they made it without any serious problems.
Wouldn't it be nice if Diana could find a buyer for her cute cabin? Surely someone would want a year round place that close to the cities for a quick getaway, if they just knew about it.
I was so amazed at the faces in the pumpkins. How did you DO that, Bitzi? What creativity!
Then the Popcorn and the Shower and the intricate carving of those pumpkins! I just wonder what kind of a sharp instrument they carved that hard pumpkin with?
Caity is pretty cute no matter what costume she is wearing and Jayce looks like one tough character -- it's fun to be young. Old fashioned fun -- that's Hallowe'en.
It was an unexpected surprise to find LTD Storybrooke had another very realistic and vivid story for us. This time we could almost hear the yelps and hear the whimpers of Checker. What a job expected of you, Larry, to pull a barbed quill from your dog's tender nose. Thank goodness for the end of the story, where it wasn't so bad after all. Sherry has come to the rescue so many times in your stories. You two are a good team. I had expected Amy's "sit by the funny man" had something to do with the outcome, but it didn't. It must not have been as traumatic for Sherry when she wrote home and didn't even mention the quill deal.
I was really fascinated by Sarah's Homespun Knitting story. Every word was so interesting, being it was a young person nowadays doing this almost lost art of spinning wool as she was doing. It almost looked easy, but can you imagine ever getting yarn spun without a big wad hopelessly messed up? I admired Sarah with all my heart for her ability to use their very own yarn and angora to make a finished product like the socks pictures. To keep at it from start to finish. I see that famous little boy, Levi, sitting close by, taking lessons for yet another generation.
My heart was touched by Weston's determination to head to Phoenix, all because of his love for Coni, and hoping to pursue a benefit for someone else. The emotional toll it would have taken boxing up her things, etc., cannot be put into words. But, the trip may have been a good chance to think and reminisce. We are glad it's to be continued.
Don, your lawn job will not only keep you in shape, but out of trouble. We are expecting great things for this 80th coming up in March. If you can ward off the effects of old age, you will be doing better than we are. We plan to stay put this winter, going out as little as possible. Roy feels the cold more every year, but we love home so choose to stay in the frozen north for those months rather than head south with the snowbirds.
I eagerly look for the Letters To The Editors to see what others have enjoyed from the previous Bulletin that I might have missed seeing. It would certainly be rewarding to our faithful Editor and Photo Editor to know we appreciate them.
Photo illustration © Virginia McCorkell
Ken Harrison discovers the thrill of reading The Bulletin.
(Amy Dake will explain later that fortune won't necessarily follow their Bulletin fame.)
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: Character is forged in the smallest of struggles. Then, when the big challenges come, we're ready. --Waiter Rant
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.
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.