Saturday, February 14, 2009


Today I received from my daughter a most cherished Valentine's Day gift – the affirmation that I had correctly responded to the call to produce this blog site. I have to say quite frankly that even I don't quite know how it comes to be – I can only say that on a recent night, I awoke shaken, with words flowing like a torrent through my mind, bringing an urgency that somehow I must let others know the wonderful Blessing of Family. God has truly given this family a unique place in history and it has nothing to do with wealth or fame, only an extraordinary love and commitment to each other. I hope you will become an avid follower of these stories and that something will be shared that will touch your life and cause a spark to ignite into a roaring flame of nurturing love for your family. Your feedback is very, very important to me so please share your thoughts.

Friday, February 13, 2009


Living with our grandparents was a quite wonderful time. There were many aunts and uncles and cousins by the dozens who alternately made our lives wonderful and miserable. They delighted in playing tricks on us but they educated us in music, laughter and how to pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off and get going again when life gave us a tumble.

Grandpa had a huge old tom turkey who strutted his stuff in the whole of the outdoors. He owned the yard, the barnyard and all points in between. He got along pretty well with the rest of the family but he did not like me. If I stepped off the back porch the chase was on and didn't end until I was chased onto the porch and escaped for my life back into the house. This provided much amusement for all of course; there was no sympathy forthcoming.

Grandpa had severe asthma and spent most of his days in a rocking chair by the hearth or on the front porch swing when the weather was good listening to the dogs treeing a fox up on the mountain across the way. He knew the sound of every dog and called them out by name as they made their way through the hills. One dare not say a word when Grandpa was listening to the dogs run. To be in his presence was an honor highly desired, but to be allowed to join him on the swing or to sit on the porch steps required silence until the hunt was done.