Whimsical little girl

The breeze was blowing and she was having so much fun tossing rocks into the river at Zion's. What a little sweetheart is Claire, so full of fun and sometimes mischief. How fun it is to sometimes have the luck to catch that moment.

How does your garden grow?

As an added bonus, you can see how the little granddaughters grow. They were visiting last week and went out to play in their dress-up outfits. Maddy and Claire had such fun putting on old petticoats and scarves for their beautiful gowns. Ellie was inside reading, as she is getting a little too grown-up for this sort of thing, although I did see her earlier with a beautiful scarf "outfit" on for a few minutes.

Father's Day - things I learned from dad

This was what my dad looked like when he was about 30 years old. He still had some hair, which was blond, and he had what they called "cornflower" blue eyes (a very vivid blue). He was 6 foot tall and slender. He lost his hair, and put on a few pounds later in life, but he always had the most beautiful blue eyes. He lost his hair early and finally told mom to just shave his head, "why bother with that little fringe", he would say. He was 83 when he passed away and his "fringe" had grown out and amazingly was still blond, not gray as you would expect.

No one would ever call my dad "wishy-washy" in anything. He had very definite ideas about how things should be and he was not shy about telling you how he felt. In his high school yearbook they had a little quote at the side of each picture telling something about that classmate. My dad's read:

You can tell the English

You can tell the Dutch

You can tell Byron

But you can't tell him much!

In my experience, and sometimes to my chagrin, dad was usually right. I might not have liked his decisions about what I should do, but I seemed to always come to realize that dad really did know best. Sometimes I found this out quickly, but sometimes it took a long time before I came to that conclusion.

Some examples:

When I was 11 years old and just going into 6th grade, they built a new elementary school on the North side of town. The school board, for whatever reason, decided to use the irrigation canal as the dividing line for attendance at this new school. Because that canal ran at a diagonal from West to East, my house was South of the canal and all of my friends in our ward lived North of the canal, even though their houses were farther South on their streets than mine was. "Totally unfair", was my cry. And cry is what I did. Cried and cried and begged and begged my dad to go to the school board and make an appeal for an exception in my case. No way would he do that. That was the rule, and like it or not, that was the way it was and we would abide by the rule. So I went to the "old" Harding school, made some other friends, had a really excellent teacher that year, and lived through the experience. I also kept my other friends because I saw them at church and at other activities. It was many years before it came to me that dad was teaching me a very important life lesson. Sometimes life just isn't fair and sometimes we just have to bite the bullet and live with it and learn that we can make the necessary adjustments without someone else "fixing" it for us. There have been other experiences in my life that learning this lesson helped me endure.

I also learned the value of work and taking care of money. As previously talked about, dad had a very strong work ethic. He taught his children this by example and by having us work for what we received.

He did not believe in going into debt for anything. He liked to buy a new car every four years and always had saved enough money to pay cash for his purchase, which also means that he bought cars that were within his budget. He didn't care that someone else had a fancy model or all the "bells and whistles" at the time, just the best for the money he had. This usually meant that it didn't include a radio or air conditioning (mostly that was not available) or fancy wheels or power anything. "I can certainly roll up my own windows", he would say and "what do I need a radio for, we can all sing". In 1959 he bought a new Chev and passed on the 1955 Chev to my brother to take to California to go to dental school. I then inherited the 1951 Chev that my brother had been driving and had "fixed up", which meant it had fancy hubcaps, and had been "lowered" to look "cool". I was 16 and just passed the driving test to get my license and I thought it would be sooo neat to have that "sharp car" of my brother's to drive around town with my friends. Dad had said I could have it most any time, I just had to ask. He kept it licensed, insured and full of gas, however, I came to realize there was a purpose in all this - if I had the "51 to drive, I wouldn't be asking to drive the new car he had just bought. Pretty smart, huh? Well, that is not the end of the story. I went out to see my "sharp" car and what do you think! Dad had taken off the fancy hub caps and had it raised back to the normal height - so there went my "sharp" car. No fancy stuff for him. It was still available most anytime I needed transportation and I don't recall being very upset because that was Dad and I was just glad to have wheels.

At that time, the junior high was 7 th to 10th grade and the 11th and 12th grade were housed with the two-year college where my dad taught. When I finished 10th grade in 1959 they opened a new high school in Price. My dad opted to go to the high school to teach rather than stay at Carbon College. He taught bookkeeping and other business classes. He suggested that I take some business classes in high school because that would always get me better jobs while attending college. He felt working in an office was a better option than being a waitress or clerking in a store. I thought that sounded like a good idea and I had already taken typing classes in junior high. So I chose business classes for my elective classes. One of those classes was bookkeeping. All my friends gave me the, "Oh boy, that's an easy A taking a class from your dad". I straightened them out on that score and told them that they certainly didn't know my dad if they thought he would give me an A just because I was his daughter. I worked as hard or harder for my grades in his class than in any other of my classes. Never would I go unprepared to his class and never would I do anything but my very best work. I wanted him to think of me as his brightest, smartest, best student. I always wanted him to be proud of me.

I have talked to my brothers and all three of us have said that we are not at all sure how dad did it, but we all wanted to make him proud of us and we didn't want him to be disappointed in us. It certainly wasn't because we were afraid of him as I cannot ever remember him laying a hand on me. I suppose we just loved him so much that we didn't want to see that look of disappointment on his face. I have to confess that I was the cause of it a few times. As I look back I can only attribute the feeling to the unconditional love that he had for me and I just didn't want to hurt someone who loved me so much.

In all these things that I have written about my dad, I don't mean to make him out to have been perfect. He had his flaws, shortcomings, and even some bad habits, just like us all. However, I believe he loved his family with all his heart and soul and that made all the difference! Thank you, Father in Heaven, for letting me have him for my dad.

Dad's work experience

This picture is of my dad in the late 1940's in his office at Carbon College (later changed to College of Eastern Utah). This is where dad taught business classes for much of his life.

I have already talked about what a hard worker my father was and how he learned the importance of work from an early age. On this page, I want to show how this attribute was of value to him and all his family throughout his life. Thus, I am going to begin at the beginning with his childhood work experience. I think it is fascinating to read about a time when life was so labor intensive, but not so "fever-pitched" as it is today. As I read his story, it makes me want to go back to that hard, but simpler way of life.


Directly from dad's story:

My first recollection of going with my father to the fields when I was about 5 or 6 years of age. I remember going with him to help my uncles William and James Green to brand, earmark and dehorn calves before turning them on the mountain for the summer with their mothers. My grandfather Green was alive at that time, as I can remember him slightly. My grandfather was a well-to-do farmer and rancher, at least by the standards of that day. My father was employed by the Greens at that time. The Green's registered brand was the initials of my grandfather Henry Green (HG) on the right hip and the earmark was a hole and underbit in each ear. After my grandfather's death, my mother inherited his brand and it was the brand my father used all his life. Also the earmark.


After this first experience, I remember going with my father many times to plow, harrow, sow grain and many other farm jobs. I enjoyed so very much being with my father during this period of time. I admired him very much.

I guess the first paying job came when I was about 8 years of age. Uncle Will Green gave me a saddle pony and a saddle. It was one of the nicest presents I had ever received. Almost every family in the town at that time kept two, three or more cows for milk and butter. We milked four cows at that time. During the summer months all these cows from town were formed into herds and driven to the meadows West of town. These meadows were a mile or more West of town. There were several boys who drove the herds each morning down to the pastures and bring them back to town in the evening. The going price for this service was a penny per day for each cow. The largest herd was one driven down what was known as the Big Lane. It was directly West of the town. This herd was driven by a boy named Glen Christensen. He had approximately 100 head, so was making about $1.00 per day. That was a lot of money at that time, when the pay to a man for a day's work was $2.00 per day. I decided after getting my horse I might as well get me some cows to drive each day. So, I did a little soliciting with my father's help and was able to get about fifteen cows for my herd. The pastures for my cows were down the lane West of town known as Becky's Alley.

About this time I took a job with my Uncles Will and James to ride the derrick horse. They had a lot of farming land and nearly all summer they put hay into stacks to feed the cattle during the winter months. Hay bailers were unknown in those days, except the kind that bailed the hay out of the stacks if it was sold and needed to be shipped away. The power for these bailers was furnished by a single horse that traveled in a circle. It was here I experienced my first job of riding the derrick horse. I was about 10 years of age at that time. After the hay was loaded on the hayracks in the field, by hand, the wagons were driven into the stackyard and unloaded onto high stacks by a derrick. My job was to ride the horse back and forth all day for which I received fifty cents. After riding the derrick horse all day, I would get on my pony and go down and get my cows out of the pasture and bring them to town, making another 15 or 20 cents a day. Earning 65 or 70 cents a day I was really in the chips. I rode the derrick horse each summer until I was about 11 or 12 and then I was promoted to the field where I became a loader on the hayrack or as they called it then, the "tromper". The job of the tromper was to walk around on the hay as it was pitched on the wagon and pack it down so the load was solid and they could get more hay on the wagon. Sometimes it was a miserable job, especially if there was a lot of thistles, whitetop and foxtails in the hay. But it was part of the job, so you just did it without much complaint. Complaining didn't do any good anyway.

Note: It is so interesting to read dad's life story because he tells of all the different properties that they owned, where they were and what they grew on them. Dad's grandfather, Henry Green and an uncle Will died at about the same time and my grandmother inherited her share of the estate, plus part of her brother Will's share. This gave her a sizable farm and some cattle. Dad said that from that time on his father then had a farm of his own to work.


Back to dad's story:

When I was sixteen, I began doing a man's work. No more tromping hay on the wagon in the fields or riding the derrick horse or that kid stuff. I began doing the same work as my father, mainly pitching hay in the fields onto the hayrack. My father taught me how to run the big fork in unloading by derrick at the stackyards. My younger brother Theron was then old enough to take over the other jobs, as tromping and riding derrick horse. My father did the stacking.

About this time, my father, in order to interest me in the farm and the cattle business, gave me two cows. In a short time I had four head of cattle. When I began school at the University of Utah in the fall of 1922, I had built my herd to about 13 head. I sold out my cattle at that time in order to have money to help me start school. I had used some of the money I received from the sale of cattle previously to buy shares of stock in the Ephraim Sanitary Canning Company, a locally owned small corporation. During World War I they really prospered. When I left for school I sold this stock for $200 per share (he paid $100 per share)so my first venture in corporation stock was real profitable.

Also, during World War I my father gave me the use of an acre of land down the Big Lane, to raise potatoes. I planted, cultivated, irrigated this crop during the summer. When about ready to harvest in the fall, I went around town and took orders from people. I harvested more than a hundred sacks and sold them for $1.00 per sack. That was about one cent a pound. That was about $100.00. Pretty good return on an acre of land, measured in the value of the dollar at that time.

About this time my father purchased a grain binder to harvest the grain crops. We used three horses to pull the binder. There were many farmers who had grain to cut, but not enough to warrant purchasing a binder because the price was prohibitive. Because of this we did much custom cutting for other farmers. My father said if I would operate the binder I could have half the money received. The price of cutting an acre was $2.00. I could cut 9 or 10 acres a day. So I did pretty well on that job also.

My job each evening was to cut the kindling wood and fill the coal buckets. We had three stoves, and a kitchen range. For kindling we used dry aspen wood. Each fall after the farm work was done, we would go to the mountains East of town to get dry aspen wood for the kindling and also green aspen poles for the fences at the corral and the feed yards. I enjoyed so much going with my father on these mountain trips. These were trips where I really got to know my father. He was such a hard worker and taught me to be industrious and to work for what we received. I always appreciated the fact that he had so much confidence in my ability to do a job. He would trust me to do jobs that gave me a lot of satisfaction in my ability and made me proud and self reliant in the things I was doing.

Note: Do you suppose that Dad's father missed him when he went away to school? I suspect he would have liked to have his oldest son take over the farm, but that was not to be with grandma's strong emphasis on education. I would like to have heard some of the discussions that took place between them on this subject!

After graduating from high school and while attending the University of Utah, dad returned to Ephraim each summer and worked as usual with his father on the farm.

After graduating from the University of Utah, dad got a teaching job in Star Valley, Wyoming. Until he married mom, he went to Ephraim every summer to help his father. Teaching accounting and other business classes was dad's life career, however, he had much other work that he did, including part-time bookkeeping and accounting jobs, jobs with the forest service, painting jobs in the summer with the school district and of course non-paying jobs in and around our home. He always had a large garden and did all the maintenance and repair on our home. Also included would be projects that he helped his children with on their homes and yards and other neighbors and friends. He was always willing to "bring his tools and get to work". I believe that his early years instilled in him a work ethic that was of benefit to him and all his family and friends throughout his life. I remember during the last year of his life when he was suffering from cancer, he still planted a garden. I went home to visit during that summer and went out to look at the garden and couldn't believe there were weeds growing among the vegetables. It was then I realized how very sick my father was. Never had I seen weeds in his garden before. He was gone before another spring came. Oh how I miss him!

Dad's Education

This picture is from dad's high school yearbook. He was one of the class officers.

He is on the right side, front row

I have already talked about some of dad's early schooling in my blog about his early years. After reading more from his life story, I want to include the following directly from that journal:

I began school as a kindergarten student at the age of 5 years. The following year I began in the beginners grade. At that time they had a beginner's grade before entering the first grade as they do at the present time. We attended school in an old building on Main Street in Ephraim that was constructed of stone. There was a tower on top of the building which contained a very large bell. The city used the bell for curfew in the evening and also for a fire alarm. The school used it to dismiss and begin the classes. The rope to ring the bell came down into our classroom and I remember our teacher used to let us ring the bell at noon, recess, and at the close of school. Three or four of us would get a hold on the bell rope to ring the bell. Being a large bell, when it would swing in the opposite direction, it would lift all of us off the floor three or four feet. It was a lot of fun and we always looked forward to our turn at the bell.

When I was in the fifth grade my parents bought me a trombone. A children's band was organized in town. I played in that band until I entered into High School and then played in that band for four years. I also played in the public school orchestra. Our main job was to play marches while the pupils marched in and out of the building. At that time, during the fall and spring when the weather was good, students were not allowed to enter the building until the bell would ring. Then they would line up in single file at the appointed place and march into the building and into their respective rooms. We played the music for the marching. During the cold winter months the students were permitted to enter the schoolhouse without having to wait outside and march into the building. However, we were required to go immediately to our rooms and not lounge in the halls. Discipline was very strict and we respected our teachers and especially our principal, who was not the least bit timid about applying the rod to various parts of the anatomy. My sixth grade teacher liked to apply the rod and I know he had the longest fingers in the world. He would put his hand around the neck from the back and really apply pressure. I know that the discipline in his room was perfect.

In the spring of 1916, dad graduated from the 8th grade. There was no junior high, so he went directly to high school. At that time, attendance at high school was not compulsory and you attended only if you want to do so. In Ephraim, there was no State high school at that time, however, the L.D.S. Church maintained a school at the high school level called the Snow Academy. Dad's mother was one who entered the school the year it was founded in 1888 and was very proud of that.

Dad began attending Snow Academy in the fall of 1916. He states in his life story that he liked school very much and was especially interested in the business courses. In addition to his graduation requirement classes and the business classes that he liked, he also took a course in carpentry and states that he was able to use that training all of his life.

During his attendance at Snow Academy, they added a "Normal Course", which was teacher's training or first year of college. At that time they changed the name from Snow Academy to Snow Normal College. Dad graduated in 1921 with a diploma in General High School and also a diploma in commercial work. Interesting to note: Dad was one year late in graduating because of the worldwide flu epidemic in the fall of 1918. All schools and public gatherings were closed for several months during that winter. When they did begin again in the spring, dad decided not to attend, but helped his father on the farm and began again in the fall of 1919.

In the fall of 1921, he attended Snow Normal College and completed one year of college work and then in the fall of 1922, he registered at the University of Utah. Grandma moved to Salt Lake with everyone but grandpa to be with her children. Dad and his sister Leda attended the U of U, his sister Alta went to L.D.S. high school and his brother Theron attended the local elementary school. The following spring, grandma went back to Ephraim and dad took board and room with various people until he graduated in 1925, with a degree in accounting. He states in his life story that he graduated with honors.

Over the years, dad accumulated better than 60 hours of graduate credit, but never applied or wrote a thesis to get his Master's Degree.

Ending note: It is so interesting to read about dad's school experience. He was a very smart man and with all the support of his parents, especially his mother, he went much farther than most "farm boys" of that day. Of grandma's four children that lived to adulthood, all obtained a college degree. This was unusual for the boys, but even more unusual for the girls of that day. Theron, the youngest, graduated from the U of U and then went to Harvard, where he graduated with a PhD in chemistry. (This was the younger brother that dad saved when he sprinted across the field) See blog about dad's athletic skills

Dad, the athlete

These pictures were copied from my dad's high school yearbook. The top picture is his senior year basketball team that won the class championship. Dad is the second from the left. The next picture is the track team with my dad standing with the check mark above his head. The next picture is my dad with his football team. He is the second from the left, kneeling with the big smile. Then another picture of dad with the basketball team. He is the one on the left in the front row - get those knees! The last is my dad, third from the left on the back row with the baseball team.

You might say dad loved athletics. He certainly was active in all available sports of the day. The following excerpt is taken directly from dad's life story:

Athletics were always of great interest to me and at that period of time basketball was real popular in the area. A group of my friends and I purchased a basketball and began playing on an outside court on the dirt ground. We put baskets on backboards fastened to large pine poles which we dug into the ground. We were 12 or 13 years of age at that time. When we entered high school at about the same time, we had already had a lot of practice in playing together. The year we were freshmen, the Snow Academy team almost won the state championship, which was played at Logan , Utah. By the time we were juniors, the varsity team consisted of myself and my friends who had played on the sandlot. We won our district and the playoff with the Sanpete district and were entitled to enter the State Tournament in Salt Lake City. There were no classifications then such as triple A, double A, etc. All high schools were in one classification regardless of the number enrolled. After district play offs, there were eight teams competing in the State Tournament, which was held in the old Deseret Gym in Salt Lake City. It was quite an honor to be one of the eight teams. We entered the tournament and were eliminated by a team from the Davis High School. They went on to win the championship that year. Anyhow, it was a highlight in our young lives.

As seen from these pictures, dad was also on the track team and was on the University of Utah varsity track team when he attended college there. He ran the 220 yard low hurdles and the long jump. He won the long jump event in a dual meet with B.Y.U. in his senior year at the U. When dad was a senior in high school, they introduced football in the school and dad was the regular quarterback.

I remember dad telling me that his father was not keen on all of his athletic pursuits. He complained to him a fair amount about how it was such a waste of time that could be better spent on school or work on the farm. Knowing my dad, and reading his life story, I'm sure he did his good share of the work and was certainly a good student, but that didn't seem to appease his father. One day, they were in the fields putting up the hay, which consisted of loading it onto the wagon and his younger brother, who was 9 or 10 years old, was on the wagon doing the "tromping", which was packing down the hay after it was pitched onto the wagon so they could fit as much as possible on the load. Something spooked the horse that was hitched to the wagon and he took off across the field with the haywagon and dad's little brother. Dad was across the field from this and when he saw what was happening, he sprinted diagonally across toward where the wagon was headed and caught up with the horse and saved the wagon, hay, horse and little brother from a disastrous accident. Grandpa's comment was, "Well, I guess those d---- athletics are good for something.

My Dad - the early years

This is a picture of my father, John Byron Thompson, at about 3 years of age. He was born December 5, 1901 in Ephraim, Utah to John Oscar and Fannie Charlotte Green Thompson. He was the second child and first son of John and Fannie. There were six children in the family: Leda Faye, born January 5, 1900, my father, Alta Deon, born August 20, 1904, Fannie Valere, born October 7, 1907, Henry Theron, born January 19, 1911, and Thomas Evan, born January 17, 1915. Fannie Valere died of a ruptured appendix when she was 11 years of age and the baby, Thomas Evan, died of pneumonia when he was about 14 months of age.



I quote the following from my dad's life story, "As always these deaths were a real sorrowful time for the family. As time passes it seems to take care of these sorrowful times. I know it was a real bad time for my parents. Being young, things like that heal more reapidly than with parents. However, it took a long time to get over Valere's death." My dad was about 16 or 17 when his sister Valere died, and when he wrote his life story in his 70's he still remembered those sad feelings that he had at that young age.



Some other interesting things taken from his life story:
In the early 1900's going to Sacrament Meeting was for the adults of the Church. My dad attended Sunday School every week and was baptized in the Manti Temple. When he was about 9 or 10 years old he had a perfect attendance for a whole year of attending Church and was awarded a pin for his tie, which he kept and wore for many years. He was ordained a deacon and one of his duties was collecting fast offerings, which at that time were done "in kind". He used a wagon to collect the offerings in the summer and his sled with a box on it to do the job during the winter. The fast offerings usually consisted of things like flour, bacon, butter, eggs, bottled fruit, pickles, etc. After collecting them, he took them to the tithing office, where they were then distributed to the needy.

From a very young age, dad had chores to do like feeding the chickens, collecting eggs, weeding, feeding the pigs. Another important job he had as a young boy was to fill the trough with water when his father came from the fields with the horses after a day's work on the farm. It was a big job for him to pump enough water for four thirsty horses. As he grew older he had work to do with his father in the fields.


It was a different time for people back then. Children had to help with all the chores because there was so much manual labor required just to complete what was needed for everyday living. I don't believe my dad and his siblings ever said "I'm bored, what can I do?" If they had, grandma would surely have something for them to do, and it might not be something they would really relish.

Grandma was very supportive of education for her children. My dad told me many times how she would sit with him every school night after his chores and go over all that he had learned in school that day to make sure he understood and was making good progress. He always gave her credit for teaching him as much as his schoolteacher did. He also remembered standing in line outside the school to march into the classroom and the teacher standing alongside with the proverbial "hickory stick" to swat them if they got "out of line". What a difference a hundred years makes! For good or for bad, hmmm, I wonder.

Growing up on a farm affected my dad for his entire life. He was always an early riser. Even when he was retired he was rarely in bed after 6:00 a.m. He always had a large vegetable garden and any summer morning could be found at "first light" either planting, weeding, watering or harvesting in his garden. He was a hard worker and a "go-getter". His favorite saying when he had some project to do was "It doesn't take me all day to do a half day's work." These were habits and things that he learned in his childhood that helped him througout his life. A hundred years ago when work was a way of life, all learned its value. Today, I believe it is much more challenging to teach our children to value work, but no less important. I suppose we just have to be more creative in finding ways to make it happen.

My wonderful parents

My father, John Byron Thompson was born in Ephraim, Utah on December 5, 1901. Mother, Clara Ida Bennion, was born in Vernal, Utah on August 21, 1910 and moved to Afton Wyoming when she was 11 or 12 years old.

Now how do you suppose two people that were separated by that many years in age and that much distance could meet, fall in love and get married. Remember this all took place in the early 1900's when both of their families lived in small towns and transportation was not as it is today. The automobile was a fairly new contraption and roads simply were not conducive to travel, to say nothing of the fact that neither family had money for such a thing. Horses and wagons were much more reliable.

It, of course, must have been one of those "meant to be" things as last Friday, June 4, 2010 would have been their 80th wedding anniversary.

My dad graduated from the University of Utah in the early 1920's and obtained a teaching position in Star Valley, Wyoming. I don't remember all of the details of his job, but when he got there the man who was to be principal of one of the schools left for some reason and my dad was made principal of one of the schools in the Valley. He "batched" with another guy that was also teaching there. Grandma Bennion, being the compassionate sort that she was, invited these two young men to come for Sunday dinner so they could have a good "home-cooked" meal. My mom was about 14 at the time and my dad always said that he knew the minute he saw her that she was the one for him. Grandma and grandpa were quite concerned as he was so much older that their daughter, but they liked him a lot and continued to have him for Sunday dinners. At one point in her schooling, I believe in high school, mom actually took some classes from dad. He would go home to Ephraim every summer to help his parents on the farm. He wrote mom some pretty passionate love letters, which I saw at one time, but haven't come across them recently in mom's things.

When mom graduated from high school, grandma and grandpa told her she had to wait to get married, as she was still too young. They were still concerned about her marrying someone so much older. Grandma told her that if she married that Byron Thompson, she would end up "tending an old man" someday. So it was that mom was 19 and dad was 28 on their wedding day.

They lived in Afton for the first year of their marriage and then dad was offered a teaching job in Price, Utah. At the time the offer came, dad was working with the forest service in the mountains and was unable to respond. They had discussed the possibility and so mom accepted for dad and they moved to Price. They lived in a couple of small apartments for a time and then bought the house at 401 North 3rd East, where they lived for the rest of their married life.

Three children were born to Byron and Clara. David Byron on May 23, 1933, John Theron on May 19, 1939 and Linda June on March 21, 1943.

One thing that I can say about my parents is that they were as one, especially in their parenting. If they ever differed on how to discipline or raise us, I never knew. They were together 100% and we knew it. That included their love for their children. Even when we made mistakes, they may have disciplined us strongly, but I always knew that their love was unconditional.

Dad was diagnosed with prostate cancer in 1970, but had surgery and lived cancer free for several years. In 1983 he was complaining of his ribs hurting, like he had cracked a rib. It was found that the cancer had gone into his bones and mom took care of him with tenderness and love until his death on December 23, 1984. I'm sure she thought of her mother's words during that time, but she told me that she had never loved my dad more than she did during those last months of his life. Mom lived another 23 years after dad passed away and died on December 23, 2007 at the age of 97. Noone could tell me that it was a coincidence that it was exactly 23 years, almost to the very hour that they were apart. Also of note is that both of those days fell on Sunday, two days before Christmas. I know that they are together now and probably had a great celebration of their 80th anniversary! Never could a daughter ask for more loving, wonderful parents than these two were for me!

Update on the garden

Will you look at that - it is actually growing. Well, at least most of it. The carrots didn't germinate and some of the others didn't come up as good as I wanted, but we have 2 cucumbers already. We are figuring a way to cage the tomatoes without using those metal things that just come out of the ground and tip over. Over the years we have tried many different ways. With the temperature getting so hot, we will also have to build a screen to keep the sun off for part of the day. Updates coming periodically in the future. Let's watch it grow!