Thanksgiving

As tomorrow is Thanksgiving I was reminiscing about our family Thanksgivings in the gray house on Emerson. Roger and Wendy Castle were our only other family in Colorado so we always had thanksgiving with them. What I recall the most is the butt load of pies that mom & Wendy would make. Thanks a lot for the tradition! I am making pies right now!

Mom and food

My story begins with Mom and her having no aversions to food and will not throw any food away, to save money of course. Anyhow, mom was making rice for dinner. I went into the kitchen and I see her sifting out something from the boiling water and throwing it in the sink. I go ask what she is doing and she said, "There was just some weevil in the rice, they are dead and I am just picking them out." I freaked out yelling, "Gross!" mom's reply, "DON'T TELL THE OTHER KIDS!" I obviously went around the house and told everyone. I don't think I ate the rice?

Rich & the Brass Bell

This bell looks very similar to the one we had. It was a brass bell that mom would often ring for dinner. There was a time when I was in 1st grade at Mark Twain Elementary. I was on the bus going home to the brown house (Wellington Street), I looked out the window of the bus and there was my mom on the side of the road. WHAT! Mothers are never in viewable sight out of the home when you are coming home on the bus. If they are there it means they are not at HOME! Anyhow, as the story goes, Rich was holding the brass bell and opened the door of the blue van and fell out. The bell just gashed the heck out for his little three year old chin. Mom said that she found someone to watch the rest of us kids so she could take him in for stitches. Mom said it was the most horrible thing to watch, those doctors washing out his chin. Needless to say, I think the bell was no longer seen......

The Mustang

I am sure mom & dad remember this car. I know once Heather was born in a time before car seats she went in her carrier on the floor of the passenger side. Safety! Anyhow, I remember back at the Wellington St. address that I would put rocks in the holes in the wheels. Mom would back out and hear the rocks rolling in the wheels and get mad!

Looking for keys

I was small, I'd say 4 0r 5. Rich and Dan 2 or 3. We lived in the brown house on Wellington. Mom had the blue van all packed and ready to go again to Utah I assume. Dad got home and we were ready to go. Now, the keys. I guess Rich or Dan had them and now they were gone. I don't know how long we searched but I do remember that mom & dad had us get together and pray that we would find the keys. I then recall that we all were walking around the front yard and there they were in the grass. To me it was my very first spiritual experience of prayer and faith. Click on "View Larger Map"

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