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Sunday, January 30, 2011

Fences mean the good greener pasture is on the other side.

Sissy Writes:

I would like to share the story about berry picking in the white/purple berried Mulberry tree in the back yard at the Meyer farm. It's branches at various times held our tire swing, our board swing and our horse swing; and our childhood fun. It grew up over the sidewalk to shade Grandpa's pink rose bush next to the gate that stood left at the outer drip line of the mulberry tree..

Even though it was the perfect size for easy climbing like an apple or maple tree I didn't manage all that well, until Steve made and nailed in some boards along the trunk to make a ladder base. Once up to the branches it was a good go for me. Everyone knew I had issues when I got too high like a cat in a tree and that is another story for another time, about my fear of heights.

When young, we always had boundary rules, which we followed because the limits were set for our safety. The farmers took no chances. If it was a fence to keep things out or children in, it was a good tall sturdy fence, even if it was a wire fence. It did it's job.

As any captive prisoner will tell you, the first rule is to escape. Fences means the good greener pasture is on the other side.

One way to get over the fence we soon, or I should say Steve discovered was to climb the mulberry tree and let yourself down the branches like a squirrel. And he shared the secret passage with his big sister. But I was not as nimble as he, and I took less chances than he. Also, I didn't see that much over the fence to draw me out to take the risk.

I often fancied myself secretly hidden in the tree, but a mulberry tree is not really that dense. So you might say, I was content in my ahh hidden perch. My imagination ran wild. I could keep track of the outer limits, I could hear those conversations of the new arrivals exiting from the cars or those who were leaving. I called down my farewells, etc. I could try to hide from my mother with out success. You know, the usual stuff a kid does in a tree.

In summer there was a reward for the climb, the mulberries. If you were afraid to climb really high, You could only get those in your short reach, after that you were out of luck.. You also had to hold your pail and hang on at the same time, unless a experienced picker like mom showed you to tie your pail to the branch. [And it would put her in the mind for a story.]

I'd say the tree lasted a good long time in my childhood. I am not sure why mom wanted the tree gone, but to her the tree was as she said "achhhhaacckkk." I think Steve knew first and told me the reason, but I have forgotten. I think it hit me hard. I the last prisoner behind the fence, who maybe had more of an attachment, but then aren't girls sentimental about everything. Natural Hoarders of a good thing.

Steve told me it was going. So early in the mulberry season we decided to get the berries before the birds. We talked about our little problem of losing the tree. I think Steve came up with the idea of making a mulberry crisp from our berries. We could do this picking ourselves and have the crisp made to prove how good the tree was. So we picked by hooks and crooks, and ladders and blankets below, we got what we could. Mom was good, she offered help and suggestions and afterwards followed along with it and made us a crisp.

It really was lovely of her to try two ways to bring it to our accustomed taste of a crisp that is a little tart..The mulberries were bland and overly sweet. She didn't make much use of lemons or apple sauce to have it on hand. She didn't think of using nutmeg, and cloves, but she might have used cinamonn. She tried at such short notice to use something that could have drowned out the flavor or enhanced it. It might have been apples and some raspberries that had been picked [Maybe strawberries might have been good with it, but not in a cooked state.] In fact I can barely remember what she put it with. It smelled good and we ate it down pretty fast. We tasted, and judged, while we waited for the verdict from the others.

We were the proud providers of dessert, but we honestly had admitted to each other that we were a little disappointed in the end product. It was not anything that we would work so hard for again. But we were proud of our unique idea of making Mulberry crisp. Enough so, that I often want to browse the Internet, as I did today, just to see what combinations others have to share. Maybe there is a good way to prepare mulberries in a pie or crisp and we just haven't heard of it yet.

We wanted so badly for those mulberry desserts to be a hit, cause it might have saved the tree. I tried many a tactic, including trying to get dad on my side, but mom said to me outright to give it up, it was going, and that was that. Said that way; it was that. A Sure thing as a done deal. The final word and answer had been given. And the mulberry tree came down. We ate all the fresh mulberries that were still left on the tree. No more Mulberry crisp for us.

Okay we lost our tree, but I think the mulberries crisp taste failure seemed to help cushion the blow somehow. That and the fact that Steve and especially me were given a little more freedom. I was allowed out of the yard more and had other fences to cross. [ Wink ! ]


Source of photo: ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Mulberry Pie and Crisp recipes :

Most of these recipes use oatmeal, which I would use, but that is not what Sylvia used in a Crisp. html

How did you Satisfy Your sweet tooth - What was your Favorite Indulgence

Sissy Writes for Genea Bloggers Personal and Family History Week #5 – Favorite Food

What was your favorite food from childhood? If it was homemade, who made it? What was in this dish, and why was it your favorite? What is your favorite dish now?

Our family had desserts that had to satisfy our sweet tooth.
Farmers wives had to make use of what they had that was plentyful, when they planned meals or desserts. Like, Milk, and Cream, and eggs, and of course items from the garden, and an orchard. I am going to pass over cookies, and cake, which were easily made from those items, because we always had them at some point to make occasions special.

Fruit and what ever mom used was regional. By that I mean it was cheaper to use what we had or was given than to go to the store and buy frozen or something in a can. Mom probably loved blue berries and Boisen berries, but we lived in southern Minnesota and I never ever saw one single blue berry bush. Though dad liked to buy watermelon and cantelope when the price was good. Attempts were made to grow it too.

We usually ate what mom craved. Mom sometimes had cravings for certain old fashioned desserts, which were served on a daily basis. Like custard, bread pudding or sour cream pudding with raisins. Dad liked to request tapioca or rice pudding and something with rhubarb. So after she had announced it and she would get busy and make it.

Ice Cream
Once in awhile she made ice cream. Mostly though, our Ice cream was purchased at the grocery store.

I think the choice for Ice Cream was because of it's favoritism by Dad and his associations of it to his family, while growing up. He, Lyle and Herman also had various house keepers, so they were bound to pick up food influences from them.

When it was time for the Ice cream, mom sould say "Dwight go down and get the Ice Cream."

Ice cream was the old favorite everyone liked in our house, even served plain. But if Ice Cream didn't have to be plain, why should it be. You should have something with it, under it, or on it. I would say our family favorite choice was strawberries. Usually the choice was something with fruit, which was was a little more healthy for you than say a brownie.

We wouldn't think of throwing apples raw or canned or rhubarb on ice cream, so they were made into Fruit Crisps.

Fruit Crisps
There were a lot of choices. Because of availability, you could say that Moms fruit crisps were a favorite thing to have with a scoop of ice cream. Our crisps were made with what ever was handy and cheap. So we ended up with a slightly tart crisp sweeted by the crisp topping and mellowed by cream or Ice cream on top of all that.

Mom didn't make pie, and if you think about it, pie crust usually wasn't eaten anyway. She thought it was not worth the effort. Pies usually called for sweet fruit, and sweet fruit would be more expensive. The same way with something like Pinneapple upside down cake. It was sweet and rather blah.

When they went to a cafe they did like to order a pie with a little ice cream on top. I am trying to think of that Cafe in Lewiville? I am sure there was one.


When I started baking and cooking, I followed the recipes pretty closely, then I graduated to embellishing, which according to my husband and some of his family members, is not always a good thing. I started making a topping like dutch apple pie, whether it was suppose to be a pie or crisps it was all the same. I liked using oatmeal and brown sugar in my toppings. In fact I would put a thin layer on the bottom too, and so like mom skip a pie crust.

My all time favorite sweet indulgence is Chocolate and fudge. Which came in mid life, since we didn't have it much at my parents home. But do remember Steve and Sonny both usually received a box of candy bars for Christmas from Aunt Amanda. One year I announced, it would be fantastic to get such a gift too. and I did receive it.

I don't remember seeing my parents eating much chocolate, except when we were given Herseys chocolate sauce topping for the ice cream and dad would add peanuts on top. Once in a great while Mom would get a box of chocolates as a gift and she would take her time eating them. When Steve and I baby sat at the Reeds, it was a treat to have the brownies Norma kept on hand all the time. It's all their fault that I grew to love eating chocolate and brownies. But I don't remember my mother making much of them.

So that was us and me. What about you?

What was your favorite food from childhood? If it was homemade, who made it? What was in this dish, and why was it your favorite? What is your favorite dish now?

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Sonnie, Herman, Sissy

After the birth of Sissy in May in the year of 1950 there was a lot of picture taking going on at Sunnyslope farm. Dewey was the camera man.
I have some shots of Herman with his two granddaughters, which I will share as soon I get around to it.

Summer 1950. Would you like to see the writing on the back too?

This is the only decent baby picture I have of Sissy. That is why I separated her from the others. Maybe I should do the same with Sonny in this photo.

I shall have to edit in another one that I scanned earlier.

Enough today from Lewisville Minnesota.

Thursday, January 20, 2011


Sonny and His Children and His Wives

Editing as I go.

Sonny's girl Patty Meyer.

Dewey Meyer probably on one of his work days [they all are] with his grandson from Steve's family. With Patty Meyer who is patiently waiting for her chance to hold him.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Irma" s blue dishes.

Something from some Past Postings on Irma Martin Olson
Maybe you can see the blue cup and a blue plate there on the right side of the picture. Sissy got that a Lethea's / Irmas estate sale at Madelia. Irma had those when she stayed with her at the house in Madelia. She was told those dishes were collected each time Irma ate oat meal. Each box contained a dish.

I personally am in love with that blue color. Though the pink, and green are equally as nice. I saw for the first time this last year the yellow ones. Irma did not possess any yellow ones. The reason is a mystery.

Sissy said if she would have had the money she would have liked to get some dishes [ three or so] with Violets all over them. But she didn't, so she passed it up, and eyes sets like it every since then. Her mom was there encouraging her to get a few things. Sissy also got a scrapbook that had a page that refered to Oregon. Her mom and dad got a box of photos of Irmas.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Cars Week three of Genea Bloggers Personal Stories

Genea blogger came up with a Personal way to blog about your Thoughts, Ideas, feelings towards various topics . [ --Week 3- Cars - I found it at Amy Coffin of the We Tree blog ( from 52 Weeks of Personal Genealogy & History - Cars- Thomas MacEntee.
I thought it would be nice to follow the personal topic of 52 Weeks Personal Genealogy and History

Week #3 – Cars

Cars at lewisville with the help of Sissy.

Cars, oh yes, Tears are already forming and dropping as I immediately think of the association of Cars and a personal story today. Tears falling could be because it involves my dear passed mother or Irma a dear personal relative. There are quite a few events that deal with the icon of car in my past, but I think I want to share the memories of the Meyer family at Sunnyslope Farm and Irma Martin Olson. Already Thinking about accumulation of events, content with Irma in our life brings the warm fuzzies. It may seem like it's all about her, but the association of car and Irma, mother, unites.

"Now then"
About the age of twelve I started noticing Irma Martin Olson coming to our home with her fully loaded station wagon of boxes and small pieces of furniture. She would be hauling her things to the house that once belonged to her mother. It was a big old home in Madelia, which was on the corner of Abbot and 1st St. S.E. I think mom got reacquainted with her because moms friend Janet Becker, who lived west across the street had been doing odd jobs painting in the old house as preparation for Irma's plan to rent out the lower section of the house. She kept the upper area for herself. She may at one time have rented that out too with her belongings in the attics. Then she decided to keep that portion for herself and use it for storage.

When she finished for the day or just when she felt she had time to catch up with the family; she would make a journey out to the Meyer home. She often brought something like ship images, or Heather. Something that showed she had Grandpa's old country German interests in mind. She would sit and talk about the family with Grandpa, who knew a lot about her Martin and Stolley family. He had so few visitors that it was a treat for him and I think it was for her too.

If I had only known more about her knowledge then, I could have asked her more about my Grandmother and other things. She had fond memories of Herman and Annie, although she may have been gone more from the home in Madelia through out her younger years, than I was thinking she was.

They moved here after 1920 from Iowa, and she married in 1930, made a home in Hazel Run at Yellow Medicine county, Minnesota. I think he died in the military and Irma never remarried. She was a large woman who had a scary heart attack once, but she carried on with a full life and had many dreams. She also did Genealogy, though I never saw the results of her work. She eventually lived in a trailer home as she taught special Education at Rosemount, in Northern Minnesota. She still kept her cottage in Hazel Run, and rented out the lower half of her mothers house in Madelia and made frequent trips with her station wagon full of boxes and or small furniture to her house in Madelia.

I think it often meant a chance for Dad to help her and do a little reminiscing with her as he would help her with her boxes.

It meant a change with some excitement for mom and I. We would get to see something pretty because Irma was an antique hound. It was one of her dreams [which didn't happen] to be an antique dealer some day in a little cottage by water. Which explains the so many transports of the boxes, in which she had items purchased for that some day in the future. Sometimes it was from Madelia to Hazel Run or vica versa [ I wished I had seen them all ]. After she died, her sister Letha had a sale of her things, and I'll share some with you, when I get around to it.

When I was going to school, there were occasions that I had to take boxes back and forth, which never went unnoticed. Even then Mom would recall Irma. But never being so vocal about it as she did when I had my own Blue Dodge car.
My car was just a plain old blue Dodge, which I barely remember it looks. It was my first car I ever drove after I got my license, which did not happen until I was age twenty five or so. At the time it was very important to me. Like for others it was a Passage to growing up, you might say.
As I drove from Fairmont to on my home on week end visits, I usually had laundry, garbage, and a few items in boxes or cases. Or I would be taking back some extra boxes from the house.
Mom would softly say " you put me in the mind of Irma". It was her way of an affectionate recalling of our Irma to my attenton, then giving me a soft little pinch at the same time.

Now and then when I see lots of boxes in my car I think of mom calling out "Here comes Irma" or "There goes Irma" and how for a moment or two we would both think of Irma.

Now then.
That should do it for today about cars.-

Oh my gosh Sissy, I need a kleenix. "Now then" is what Irma used to say when it was time for her to move on to something else after having been lost in thought. I can't wait for more stories about your association with Irma. So thats the Genea Bloggers personal story today about Cars affect on our life.

Week #3 – Cars

Week 3: Cars. What was your first car? Describe the make, model and color, but also any memories you have of the vehicle. You can also expand on this topic and describe the car(s) your parents drove and any childhood memories attached to it.

Comments are welcome!!

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Those who can talk the talk- Family stories

Sissy writes about speech, conversationalists, good 'talkers'

In high school, I signed up for oral story telling.
You told a story that had already been written, Usually there were short stories collected just for that distribution or find your own and adapted but needed to be a certain length. You could even order a few for the event. I didn't do too well at it for many reasons, but I credit that to the fact that I just didn't find the right good story. [ See I believe if you dream it, it will come]

We' ve all had speech class more than likely and writing in our English classes. But blogging it out may be different.

Preachers, and clergy men, woman
If you can't write or tell a story, or get along with people, you'd better not be in the church situation.
Women like Joyce Meyer can talk to an audience. It helps to that little comment you expect every now and then. what is it? oh amen, right?. Her pacing is donein a way, I don't mind it. Others, well it's distracting. Now I never have looked at her book, I doubt I would have the same interest.

Some of my favorite speakers ['talkers']
Over my life time, I had my favorite older men who seemed to have a good knack for conversation and mini story telling. I know they probably could talk / sell a freezer to the Eskimos. My first experience I can remember was a excursion to the Ben Johnson home so Grandpa could exchange stories with him. They both grew up in Germany, one high German and grandpa low German. I would curl up somewhere and idly play with something, and listen. Now I bareley remember the stories, but I remember most how it was told. Enthusiastic at times, loud and excited variation in tones, gestures, and usually the best stories had a lot of cussing in it. There was not the common word one hears now, if you know which one I mean, but old gentleman cussing. It was just part of my fascination with his stories.

I think that shaped my admiration for old men and their story telling. It was a part of my acceptance and, dare I say, my enjoyment of my job, as I waitressed the early morning shift around all those older men . I just enjoyed the personalty of those older men including their stories or stories told by others about them.

I am not saying I would copy that as an ideal family story telling method; cause well, I haven't the good cussing skills ol' Ben had. [Sure we kids made the mistake of discussing it once in front of mother and she tried to get us out of the room now and then. But if she was enjoying herself in the kitchen, then our placements were luckily forgotten.]

Okay, to be fair
I always enjoyed the young group of boys conversations . But these days it's just not done with out all the swear words [ not really nice cussing]. Equal time to women. Okay, I hope I am off the hook with the girls. One person who immediately came to mind was my moms Aunt Threasa [ Mc Mullin] An elderly catholic woman with Cataracs who loved to read and talk politics. She could talk the talk, but she needed a person, who could throw it back to her, I was too young then and not of her caliber. And then there was the time spent with 'the girls'. One just has to have those conversations.

I am right on with Sissy!
Blog, videos and speakers
Stage presence, or a good speaker [talker], Conversationalists.
This last week, I noticed that some blogs carry a 'listen to this' feature to listen to the content of the blog.
I also have seen a few videos being carried on blogs. I have to say, that if it sounds like your reading it in that certain voice, and I probably would.then that's not for me. Some people have stage presence, good speaking voices for good speech delivrance, and others don't. [That's why I am sticking to just writing the blog]

In another bloggers video, I was looking at her decor, loved it and didn't hear what she was saying. And with still another, I don't remember a thing she said, because I was appalled that she would tape with an unmade bed behind her, then I nearly jumped, when I saw a head move!

The video's is one good idea, and I am sure there are more Hints and Ideas to learn for good story telling.

I am trying to find 'How to' information.
I have been looking around the Internet for "How to tell a story." So far I have found a few. If you know of a good sites that tell you [ no money involved] the ins and outs of story telling. would you deposit them here?

Also too, I have been looking around for some webplaces of collected family stories that I enjoy reading. Maybe I can judge to see if they use the five senses and the five fundamentals- sound attitude, gesture, listening, attitude ] The beginning middle and end. written and oral. 'll see why I think they are good.

How are you doing?
If you have been one to tell family stories, then how are you doing?

Friday, January 7, 2011

Minnesota Winter Storms and the Human Spirit

Genea blogger came up with a Personal way to blog about your Thoughts, Ideas, feelings towards Winter. [--Week 2: Winter. What was winter like where and when you grew up? Describe not only the climate, but how the season influenced your activities, food choices, etc.I found it at Amy Coffin of the We Tree blog ( presents this for the week two.] from
52 Weeks of Personal Genealogy & History - Winter Thomas MacEntee. I thought it would be nice to follow at the with the help of Sissy.

Sissy describes the mood the Winter snow storm brings out from a community, which may in fact be the simple Human comman ground spark the ancestors had in comman for survival, maybe it's always there going back to cave man days.

Sissy writes:
For Winter thoughts, I think I am going to have to get past first in this letter my usual doom, gloom thinking, especially about Winter. I've never been a Fall person nor a Winter person. Where as some people I grew up with couldn't wait for snowmobiling season, ice skating, skiing and all their winter fun. Maybe they are the kind of people who make lemonade from Lemons.
I, as an elderly woman have let it run my life. I hibernate during the winter. When the spring comes forth with all its sunshine and freedom of movement no one is happier and more full of smiles for that reason than I. Although, what other good reason is there to snuggle down with Candles flickering and piles of books to read, and movies galore to watch,. It is time for me to be reading, dreaming and making Plans for spring.
Now I have gotten that gloom out of the way.

One thing I think that stands out to me about winter, whether it is the home of the Vikings or the Packers, where I live now, its the warm human interchanging sparks that fly during and after a good big winter snow storm. I think it is that enthusiasm for Winter storm survival that I love best about winter, if I have to admit any kind of love for it.

As young sprat fresh to the ways of the world I worked my first real Public job as a waitress at a family restaurant in a very small downtown community south of Lewisville. The first lesson I had to learn is that no matter how high the snow falls, no matter how many sidewalks are full, roads closed, it is not like a day off from school. You climb or tunnel the drifts up the hill and get to work irregardless of how much snow there is. [ I did say that I was wet behind my green ears.]

When I got to my work destination, I'd see the wet carpet and the smell of fresh [snow, does it smell?] in the room. I would be greeted by the buzz sound of men, hearty enthusiastic men sparked by the event of a big snow storm. I don't believe enthusiastic is the right word here, but for now it works. I am trying to describe that spark in the room of maybe twenty men on common ground for a change. Men who had already had previously purchased necessary bread and milk for the family, freed their vehicle, shoveled their sidewalks, or even walked downtown. In spite of all that dressed in bundles of winter attire, they still had the time to enter into the restaurant doors, shedding some of their attire, settled to mingle, drink coffee eat a hearty breakfast. For some others the dice was thrown more enthusiastically as they told their stories with each other on the most common ground of conversation that maybe does not usually exist. As each customer came in with their red faces and a cool draft would want to share their story, I so busy, had not the time to listen to each one nor could I share my own stories or questions.

Snow, winter, storms, blizzards. I haven't seen anything else that can bring the community of people together in a room, other than a severe tornado or summer storm. And those summer storms were not the same. But, I speak only from my limited Experience.

As a older adult at employment, it seems to lift the conversation droll, into the same buzz tone after a winter storm in packer land too. I perk up and have more spirit during those times. It's just there in the season of Winter, and hard for me to explain.


It's hard for me to find the words too, Sissy. Maybe someone else can??.

Enjoy your Seventy some Winter days left of snow and Ice.
jo me a rootdigger.

New Years Events at the Sunny Slope Farm - Genea Bloggers 52 Weeks of Personal Genealogy and History

Genea Bloggers 2011 has come up with
52 Weeks of Personal Genealogy & History - Week one - New Years and New Years Day.
sponsered by Amy Coffin and Thomas MacEntee at Facebook.

I 'm relying on Sissy to fill us in about the Meyer's New Years at Sunnyslope farm, since no one else has volunteered information, it is just her.[Smile]

Sissy writes:
I can barely remember what the Meyers family did special for New Years. Maybe that is because there was nothing the same or Traditional from year to year. Sometimes when the folks and the neighbors were younger there were parties at the neighbors which they attended and us kids would stay home with Grandpa Herman. [He watched us and later on we watched him.]
If it was to be a party at the Ben Johnson home up the hill west of us, we often went along. We probably didn't stay until midnight. But it was one night no strict bedtime like there would be for a school night. Grandpa was friends with Ben, so he would have been there too. There were the Johnson grandchildren to play with and we looked forward to seeing them again. One group came from the Iron Mining range in Northern Minnesota, the other in the name of Parma came from Winona Minnesota.

I am sure special things such as food that was done for Grandpa, but I can't recall them. maybe oyster soup or Pickled Sardines. I am sure mom did what she could to draw him out. Their might have been a big deal about making homemade Ice cream or something else special that was a sweet. She loved to make Banana and Chocolate Chip flavors. Cake would come later in the week or she might have, but sometimes it could be a Crisp, peach or apple, or some kind of dessert back in those days that we often had. She always had her cookies for the grand children or company.

We had individual Interests.
I usually was baby sitting for a few people in the neighborhood, once I was old enough to do so.
- Later as each of us had our families, we spent that time with Friends and slept New years day or spent time with our own families.

Visitors and guests
Some times mom and dad had Scot Becker and his brother or just one of them for a weekend, it could have fallen on New years. They also had Laura Lynn Day too. Those are other stories for other days. I am not sure, if she had her grandchildren of Steve's specifically for the new years eve, but it is possible they did.
There were so many visitors over the years.

- Years later some of Sonnies friends were there. Drinking was not a huge show.
- Besides the drinking and partying with friends was supervised. Mom always kept close watch over Dad.

New Years Day
I know his son Lyle and his family were always in California for the Rose Bowl football event. I think he and his son my dad, Dwight liked to watch the game and parades on Television once we had television. Before that if it was on the radio I am sure Dad was listening. If there was a good book to be read, I'd have snuck off to read it. Otherwise, I would watch the Parade. More than likely there was minimum chores, but my mother could find them and get us to do them, if she could. Of course animals on a farm have to be fed and taken care of, and this was done.

Many times there was craft items that we had been started on because of a Christmas gift and we all would probably be doing them since mom was so handy for questions. Mom in her rocking chair and the rest of us with our project each there too.I suppose their would be conversations of no importance.

Maybe too, If mom had an inkling she might sample her four Roses that has been mentioned as a traditional gift.

Then too, Steve's birthday was a about four days afterwards, and I suppose we just knew there would be some kind of party for him. It might have happened on a weekend even though it might have been New Years. It all depended on when School resumed. Every year mom would do a tree late before Christmas, so that it could be still up for his birthday.

Years later some of Sonnies friends were there. Drinking was not a huge show.

Many years later I and a friend went out Bar hopping and dancing on New Years Eve for the first. I had such a good - memorable time.

Mom was a big one to do up the house for holidays. I may have mentioned it before that she had kitchenette curtains for nearly all of them. but I don't recall any for New Years. I suppose it would be hard to find something for it. It could be that if she had her green or Deer up, it sufficed for her, and she didn't have to go to the work of Ironing them and changing them. The same for her other places that she changed for the Holidays.

That's all I can remember now. I am sure there were events that happened on New Years. If we whined or acted like we were being deprived of something about a holiday, whether it was Thanksgiving, Easter or Christmas; mom would exclaim
"I could care less".
And then usually "It's just another day around here."
But still, she would turn out what ever she could manage.

Was there new Years resolutions? Maybe, but not talked about.


Thanks Sissy.
One tradition - In with the new broom and out with the old broom.

I can't help but wonder, what it was like there in the early years at Sunnyslope in the old house with the wing additions with all the Seils, Jaeschkes, Meyers and their friends back in the day of the young gentleman farmer, Herman with his wife Annie and August William Seil And his Anna. I am sure never a dull moment. Moments we won't really know. But now thanks to you, we know the later years events.