Rhode Island Reds

A few weeks ago when an artist set up his wares down the street from me, this seven foot tall Rhode Island Red chicken caught my attention among the African safari metal sculptures and antlered steed.  Not so long ago I was the chief cook and bottle washer to some 3,000 in half a dozen coops our family boarded. 

Every morning and evening at 6, I was carrying buckets of mash to their troughs and gathering the eggs they layed.  Dad said, he only kept them to help us learn how to be good workers.   Now I thank him for the great gift of work he instilled in me.  What I couldn't see then has been a blessing in my life and my siblings, too. 

Thanks dad for the Rhode Island Reds that allowed me to serenade them with love songs from Bobby Darin, Andy Williams and the Beatles.  They never complained about my singing.  If I was mad, they got a piece of my mind.  I loved how they would stop clucking and their heads would bob up holding still for a split second, to my hollering, crying or shouting. 

We had eggs a-plenty and fried chicken to die for.  Rain or shine, cramps or fatigue I fed them day in and day out for six years.  Then the baton was passed along to my younger sisters.  Here's to hard work and small farmers of yesteryear. 

The Plaid Jacket

When my Grandmother was still alive, she asked me to make her a jacket with some pretty red and blue plaid polyester fabric she had purchased.  I remember doing my best to make it just the way Grandma wanted it, because I always wanted to please her.  Giving it to her on a special occassion, she treasured it and wore it often. 

When she passed away my mother loved it so much, she kept and began wearing it.  After more than thirty years later, it was a weekly part of her warddrobe.  I told her to get rid of it, because now the styles had changed and it was really dated.  She continued to wear the plaid jacket. 

When she died last year, the jacket was still in her closet.  Yes, I had to keep it, but haven't dared wear it.  What makes this piece of clothing so special?  Was it the love for another and time spent making it for her.  Does the jacket represent my grandmother and also my mother?   Is it holding on to the past and what was then?  It is hard to say.  After thirty some years, it has found a place in my heart and home, too. 

Birthday Munching With the Bunch

For Mom's birthday the siblings and spouses got together to enjoy dinner at Archibald's in Gardiner Village.  Most of us ordered the special, but a few decided on the halibut since the Trust was paying.  You go girl.  I forgot to take a photo, but should have.   After a taste of the carrot cake, it disappeared before my eyes with a few nibbles.

Our parents birthdays are twenty-five days apart.  Here's a great big 'Happy Birthday to the two of you!' 

What fun we had those summers on the farm, when we weren't working which felt like most of the time.   Jim milked the cows every day, we had chickens to feed, hay to bale and corn to pick.  I remember skinny dipping in the canal, catching skeeters under the 'Big Tree' and wading in the cement ditch.  The real workers were our mom and dad, who almost never took a break.  Thank you for the great heritage you left us.

The Tree of Life

Dale Carnegie said, "This is the only chance you will ever have on earth with this exciting adventure called life. So why not plan it, and try to live it as richly as possible?" Jim and Elaine have put their family pictures on the wall into a 'Tree of Life' to enjoy every day. How beautiful it is to admire each dear family in groupings of all the kids, spouses and grandkids. The smiles on their faces say, I am happy to be part of such a great eternal family. If you don't have your family photos on display, spend a few pennies on frames and photos to hang them where they can be admired often. Set up your computer screen or digital frame to a continual slide show. If you can't be with them, at least you can enjoy seeing them.

Family First Aid Kit

When this old brown suitcase was called into service for the family first-aid kit, I don't know. It served its purpose long and well. Easy to spot and always full of supplies, it has now been retired. May we all take the time to have a First-Aid Kit handy whereever we are, be it in the car, home, work, vacation or what ever place you roam. There is no place like a First-aid kit like this one.

Anniversary Date

Today is the anniversary of Mom's death.  This is the posterity of the two of them.  What a great heritage. 

Good Bye High

It was time to clean out the final treasures from Mom's garage before potential buyers arrived today to see the house.  We listed it for sale and arrived at 8:30 am to do the job.  Trucks, trailers and the garbage cans were backed up to haul away the final items.  Although I hated to part with this forty year old, yellow high chair, it was loaded into the trailer along with many other things headed to Deseret Industries.  

This faithful, sturdy stool held many a baby as they learned to eat with a spoon.  Julie, now forty-five, mastered climbing on and off successfully unaided as a child.  Nile and Jim patiently sat to have their hair cut from this perch.  Mom with dripping wet hair sat on it, while I patiently rolled it up in her pink curlers week in and out.  Many canning seasons came and went with family fighting over who got to sit on the  high chair.    We have now sent it off for a new family to enjoy and make their own memories.  Good bye, old guy. 

Sunday, January 15th marked twelve years since Nile passed away.  It was just after his fortieth birthday.  Nick was twelve and Melody was six.  They are now both enrolling at the community college and things are looking good for them.  Here is a photo of Nick with Mom a few years ago at Christmas.  They look good.  We hope both Mom and Nile are happy in heaven.