There are things I miss

Yesterday went by so quickly I did not have an opportunity to say Hi! Every time slot was spoken for long before the sunrose. We have beautiful sunrises, the sunsets are the best. Our back lot is elevated and we look southwest at the mountains. The best sunsets are in the winter, often there are brilliant geometic shapes of red. The second best sunset I have ever seen was in Nigril, Jamaica. I was there in 1976 (?) visiting a friend, Pat, that lived in Santa Cruz serving in the Peace Corp. We had gone to a restaurant right on the ocean. The sunset was brilliant, if I had known the term then, I would have said it had bling-bling. When I was growing up on the Mississippi, Mark Twain territory, I rarely admired a sunset. The sunsets on the river were nice. The best nature activity in the sky were storms, great lightening, I so enjoyed crackling thunder and magnificent flashes of light and huge bolts at the same time the next thunder came rumpling from miles away. When we lived in California, people would be frightened of their lightening and thunder, it did not come often but when it did I would hear squeals and anxious people about. I did not have the heart to tell them "you have not yet seen lightening ". I missed real lightening. They were anxious about the lightening but an earthquake did not phase them. After living there many years I too became desensitized with earthquakes. We are happy we moved, though I do miss the ocean and cool summer nights. I loved September and October in Southern Illinois, I liked to walk alone in the brisk air and the wind whipping beautiful fall colored leaves in circles around my feet. I miss those autumn days. I do enjoy mountains, I did not see a mountain until my family visited Pennsylvania when I was fourteen. Those were beautiful lush mountains. As a child I had the bluffs by the river. Bluffs are four to five story high cliffs. There were many Indian legends regarding those bluffs. Now we are surrounded in all directions by amazing mountains. I do miss friends, three children, a son in law, and two grandchildren that still live in California. I hope to hear from you soon. Di

Under contruction is a blog regarding gardening, please check it out when it is up. My son-in-law, Andy, gardens and he built me some planters and got me started gardening too. We will tell you more about that in the Gardening blog. In process. My greatgrandparents in both my mother and father's families were farmers, my great great grandparents migrated from England. I am curious what they grew on their farms as they settled in Illinois.I know my grandparents primarily grew green beans, tomatoes. and corn. My Dad's father had a half acre he farmed for personal use until he died at ninety three, just five years ago. My Mom's father always had a home garden, as a child I helped him weed and carried aprons full of fresh vegetables to my grandmother's itty bitty kitchen. He liked gardening so much he rented an empty lot about two miles from his home and planted corn and tomatoes there, checking it daily. He loved family. My dear sweet Grandpa H called me and all eleven of his grandchildren almost everyday, after we got home from school. He would question me and make sure I had a great day. When we moved away to California (I was in High School), my grandfather came to our home the morning of the day we were leaving, he began to cry and never did stop the whole day. He repeatedly walked the perimeter of the house for a good three hours. My Mom always said "I broke my Dad's heart moving so far away." When a family loves each other so much, you want to live close enough to see one another whenever you want. I only saw my grandfather one other time after we moved, he had a stroke within the first two years. He lived to be sixty seven, sixty seven and dark brown hair. He had retired from Illinois Glass, had sold fuller brush on the side and became a town alderman. He cared about his community and he loved his family deeply, a wonderful man. We were so blessed.

A baby-boomer, the highest populated generation in the United States, I was born in Illinois in the early fifties. My Dad was stationed in England in the Air Force at the time of my birth. The first time my Daddy and I laid eyes on one another was when I was just over one year old. I was standing in the arbor on the front sidewalk to my grandparents home, where Mom and I lived the first two and half years of my life. My Grandfather was so attentive, he had me potty trained at six months. Yes that sounds crazy, but he was with me so much that he never let me have a soiled diaper. My cousin, Linda, lived with us as did my Mom's sister, Delores. They were my playmates.
Now, over half a century later, my grandparents and parents are deceased. I am a Mom of seven, two birth daughters, two step sons, one step daughter and two adopted children, one girl, one boy. The only two living at home now are the two adopted children. We have five grandchildren, four girls and one boy. Joe and I just celebrated our eighteenth wedding anniversary. It was a big one, as Joe was married to his former wife seventeen years, I to my former husband ten years. Now we both are married to our intended mate longer than our former spouse. Our three eldest daughters are married with children. Their husbands are great guys. Our eldest son has been married one year, bought their first house and they hope to start a family soon. Our second son is working his career successfully and setting goals he hopes can be realized, if our government does not bankrupt our country. Our daughter 16 and son 12 are struggling and enjoying the teen years.
As I write these few paragraphs as my first entry to my blog, I sense an overwhelming feeling welling up inside me. I have lived what must seem like many years to a teen or even someone in their twenties. Yet, I know that compared to my aunt's ninety five years, there are still so many more experiences to come in this journey of life.
I hope you will stay with me as I explore my past and look to the future with excitement, hope, patience, and enthusiasm.

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