Robert and Steve in Penrose

Possibly Measuring for the new Dairy Barn?

We're Leaving Cheyenne, We're off to Montan

It turns out there is a whole lot more to the story that connects this picture with the earlier pictures I posted of Judy and Bob in Cheyenne, with the picture of Judy and Bob in Penrose.  I discussed this story for a considerable time today with Judy and she will tell you the rest of the story.  I hope.

The Mountain Climber and the Paper Carrier: Judy and Bob, Penrose, in the 60's

This picture was just too good to led molder in the archives.  Robert here shows the Happy Days type person that charmed Judy.  I think it was the hat that done it.  Plus maybe the glasses.  Or maybe it was the insouciant devil-may-care but life is good pose.  What do you think?

After I posted this, I had a sharp pang of recognition.  Does Robert's shirt look familiar?  Well there may be a little difference, but not much.  Nice style, though.  I'm now through editing this post.

Annie's Golden Mums

The thing about shopping at Costco is that you never know what you want or need until you see it at Costco.  And that is how Velna and I got these gorgeous copper-colored mums on our front doorstep. My sister Ann, our Costco fairy, made a prompt and very wise decision when she saw big containers of yellow and golden colored mums at Costco.  As written earlier, she knew yellow was for spring, gold for fall.  So next thing I knew she was lugging a big pot way too heavy for anything she should have been lugging up to my front porch.  So now we and our neighbors will enjoy this beautiful splash of color from the proper-colored fall mums until frost thanks to a wise and prudent Costco fairy who never saw an infomercial she didn't like or a botanical remedy that wouldn't cure or wasn't at the ready with the latest from the Wizard of Google.

We got cheated out of seeing what we thought would be a spectacular harvest moon last night by the dark and stormy clouds.  The morning is just as foreboding and weepy and right now the thunder fairy is busily showing off and thundering just to show who is in charge here.  Does anyone (Louise and Liz) remember when we used to hide under the quilts on the big bed at the little brown house during the ferocious summer Penrose thunder storms?

And please, we need everyone's comments so we don't feel so lonesome out here.  Just a word to let us know.  

Yesterday:  Call from Judy.  Call to Ann to see why nose numb.  Judy called back. Neighbor came bearing two ears of corn.  Velna went with sisters to Olive Garden for sister's birthday.  Brought home leftovers.  Made bread, chicken noodle soup, and finished laundry while they were gone.  Earned many, many points to offset rare egregious comments and behavior.  Watched Ballykissangel.  We'd seen it before.  Watched Father Brown.  We'd seen it before.  Went to sleep woke up with stiff sore hands couldn't find little rubber squeeze ball found it at 3:00 a.m. over by the cabinet said one or two encouraging words to the little squeeze ball about improper behavior and worked out the kinks.  Took another 67 pictures of clouds and mountains this morning.

Just went out to check the golden mums.  Beautiful!  Thank you, Annie.  You can make it to St. George in no time at all.  It will be a test of your desire to repent and continue practicing on me.  A crucial test is forthcoming.

Annie's Zinnias

Thursday Annie, aka Kathryn Ann, aka the Swedish Meatball Fairy, aka the Costco fairy, aka the Costco Toilet Paper Measuring Queen, aka the honey butter lady, came bearing, among other things some gorgeous zinnias she had stripped from her garden.  Note the bottom picture in which a new zinnia is growing out of the dying zinnia on the bottom.  Who knew of such zinnias until Annie brought one to show me?  And, oh yes, she said Costco had big containers of gorgeous fall mums and they were either copper colored or yellow and she thought yellow was for spring and that brown was for fall and therefore she brought the big huge container of gorgeous fall mums and somehow wrestled it up to the front porch and said something like there it is.

But the zinnias were not all.  The Costco fairy, for the third time in the past summer, came laden with all manner of necessities, luxuries, goodies, produce, and good cheer.  Most important, she told me I was looking better?  How can I look better?  I must have looked awful before, but I was glad for the encouragement.  Having taken her morning to check out stuff at Costco and Allred Orchards and who knows what else, besides harvesting her garden, we were the recipients of a veritable cornucopia of wonderful and necessary stuff.  From her garden, besides zinnias, we received a beautiful big fat green cabbage, lovely tomatoes, a monster zuke, summer squash, and who knows what else.  From Allred's Orchards, we received two gallons of incomparable apple juice and some lovely, lovely early Elberta peaches.  And then the usual harvest from Costco.  Since Costco inconsiderately and incompetently was out of honey butter, Annie donated one of her own from her stash of honey butter.  

Earlier in the summer when I complained that Costco was stiffing its customers on the width of toilet paper, advertising it as bigger and stronger, we suckered into that only to find their wonderful tp was about a half inch narrower.  So Annie, the Costco Toilet Paper Queen, takes a measuring tape to measure it and forthwith Costco will never deceive us again.  Of course, TP is the number one seller at Costco, in case you didn't know, so when you see those big Costco semis roaming the land you can be comforted in the knowledge that they are hauling toilet paper hither thither and yon, trying to convince you that Charmin is bigger, stronger, but not necessarily wider.  So along with butter, OJ, a rotisserie chicken which can be stretched into 7 or 8 meals by the time you cook the bones with noodles and extract the last bit of chicken flesh from the bony carcass, and oh yes, an urgent phone call from Costco in Orem, "Do you want a pumpkin pie?"  Did the sun come up this morning?  So upon arrival and unburdening the contents of her shopping bags, she comes up with an aerosol can of pure whipped cream.  She deemed that Costco pumpkin pie was certainly worthy of more than mere Cool Whip. Perfect.  And then she was laden with Ikea Swedish meatballs and Lingonberry sauce which she claims are really, really good although don't buy the cinnamon rolls since they may have been baked in Sweden months ago and taste like cardboard.  After two nights, the pumpkin pie, alas is half gone and I know not what I will do when it is finished.

So then we visited for awhile and discussed Judy's book, Liz, Louise, and Steve, the only four who weren't here.  I learned nothing new since everyone apparently is holding in the good stuff and not divulging anything at the present time.

And then, unfortunately it was time for Annie to leave.  And I thought, "What have I done to deserve such generosity and kindness?"  And my answer was, "Nothing."  I did nothing to deserve all of this bounty. And therein lies the goodness of a Good Samaritan.  Good Samaritans do good (irr)regardless of the worthiness or lack thereof of the recipient.  So Annie, bearing her own bushel of pains and woes, took another day and spent hours rounding up stuff and driving to Salt Lake, and arrived with a smile and encouraging words and I thought,  why did I tease you so much, Annie, when you were a precious little child?  But then Judy intimates rather strongly that Ann and Steve weren't all that pure and well behaved as little children anyway.  My sisters and brother have been so kind to me, and I feel so blessed to be the recipient of their caring, love, concern, and acts of kindness.  

Maybe we can gather once more around the Christmas tree on Christmas eve in the living room of the white Penrose house and decorate Mother's last minute bargain Christmas tree with tons of tinsel and turn on the colored lights and write a letter to Santa Claus and hang up our stockings already knowing a rare orange will appear in it tomorrow and for the moment feeling nothing but joy and hopefulness and being spared the knowledge of the future and all of the challenges and journeys and trials and blessings and long, long roads we would travel.  And then 60 or 70 years later, here is my little sister on my doorstep, ringing my doorbell, with a carload of wonderful things.  Oh dear, dear Annie, I feel so sorry for you that you don't have a new bread machine but I will willingly give you my Ronco Rotissserie in case Judy's has fallen to the floor.  But how glad I am to see you and how thankful Velna and I are for your caring.  Please go scold your hens and tell them to behave and start laying or they will land in the dumpling pot.  With love, from your brother Dwight.

A Short Letter to the Petersen Family

Dear Judy and the rest of the Petersen family:
I have just laughed, cried, and marveled my way through every written word and photograph in Judy's wonderful life story.  In my most brilliant imagination, I could not have known the extent of your incredible years  of devoted and inspired church service and of the countless lives you have touched. Nor did I know or understand the number and extent of health crises bravely faced and conquered through faith and perseverance.  I knew Robert was a hard worker, but the range of his skills and the incredible accomplishments from his ability to work and learn and apply so many skills is utterly amazing. Judy, if I were you, and Robert wanted to go to Lowe's to get even one nail, I would say, Robert, Dear, go get it!  And here is a $20 bill, so go buy yourself a whole sackful of nails, plus an ice cream cone! The details of family life after I left home in January 1950 are invaluable and insightful. Judy, your prose is clear and, in many places, absolutely eloquent and inspired.  For a few golden moments, I was back in Penrose, back in the only place I still consider home, listening to the river run over the dam, looking at the old Penrose Church across the sagebrush lots, sitting on the middle pier of the old Penrose bridge, the only True bridge in Penrose, with Liz, waiting for the suckers to bite, and they never did, but oh what a joyous time we had.  Once more I walked across the well worn diagonal path in the field between our house and Grandma and Grandpas's, up the lane by the ditch to the upper fields, smelled the sweet smells of alfalfa blossoms and growing crops and listened to the irrigation water gurgle as it soaked into the hard clay soil of Penrose and produced another crop for another year. And I thought, my entire life was blessed and enriched by those wonderful moments of re-mopping the floor when the job that was worth doing apparently wasn't done good enough, or going with Dad every Saturday morning of the school year to haul hay or go do whatever needed doing.  And, yes, the details about the lives of Louise, Elizabeth, Judy, Ann, and Steve are all enlightening and remind me once more that we were born and raised in a safe haven where danger was absent and love was present and that the Good Lord has allowed us to remain here for awhile longer to share what each of us has go give to the others.
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To the Petersen Cbildren and extended family:  Your mother has lived an exemplary life, spared often from medical issues and crises that might have flattened a less valiant soul, and you know that your parents have seen the fruits of their labors and sacrifice in the lives of service and devotion to the timeless and eternal principles you learned from them.  I marvel at all of your accomplishments and your courage in overcoming adversity and forging on no matter the roadblocks.

Cheyenne Wyoming 1960

Heavenly Hydrangeas at Amsbaugh Gardens

I absolutely love hydrangeas.  The perfection of the flowers, the gorgeous heads of blossoms, the variation in colors and form.  When we moved to Preston, I left hydrangeas behind, but brought a few dried blossom clusters with me.  Nineteen years later, I still have one on the shelf in my sewing room.  So, when we were at Judy and Bob's. I took advantage of the beauty of her gardens and took photos of the many varieties she has.  (There are still a few more than shown here.)  Aren't they beautiful?

Exciting Happenings in Olympia

These pictures were taken a couple of weeks ago on a quiet Sunday afternoon at the Petersen domicile.  As you can see, a peaceful calm permeated the house, leaving Judy and me total freedom.  Fortunately, our husbands are past the age of being concerned about being caught napping when the moment is right.  Nothing like family unity!

Ronald and Ellizabeth Gage

Ron and Elizabeth are on their way today to Bellevue to the temple to witness the marriage of their daughter, Andrea to Ken Krull.   The happiness of the occasion seemed to be reflected in them this morning and so I tried to capture that feeling.  The posed photos I took of them, just didn't do the job.  But this one I caught afterward, and I think I got it!
We've had a good time while they have been staying with us.

A Writer In the House

I just talked with Dwight about his latest plan to write Western Romance novels that are about 3-4 pages long. After suggesting the hero wouldn't even be able to ride into town and see the sweet school marm in just 3-4 pages, I told him about John's book that is for sale on Amazon. Dwight asked me why I hadn't put something on Penrose Mornings about it, so I am repenting and putting a quick note here. John worked long and hard on this project and we were excited when he said it was actually going to print. He has received some great comments personally, as well as made some interesting contacts as a result of his book. Just in case you are wondering, it isn't exactly light reading. Sorry about the "Click to look inside" arrow. Can't figure out how to get rid of that. 

The Pitfalls of Reform: Its Incompatibility with Actual Improvement by John Tanner

Happy Birthday Louise

A rare time when we all, except Steve, were in Penrose.  This picture was taken at Burchell's.  Louise, we did have a good time regaling Liz with our stories of our visits to Paris with our friend Pierre, which Liz ate up hook line and sinker.  We're all here for you today, Louise, and Steve is below.

Here's Liz's wonderful collage for your birthday 

 

And since we all need to be together today, here is Steve (John Wayne)

Birthday Time for Louise - July 14th

 This happy picture was taken last summer when Louise and Cheryl came to Preston for some shared Show 'n Tell to awe and amaze each other with  the quilts we have made, and to enjoy the camaraderie that we also share.  Louise has always been an example for me to follow in so many ways - She taught school, so I knew that I should do so, too.  She made quilts, so I knew that I should do the same.  She continues on with her sense of humor and optimistic outlook on life.  She sets an example for all of us.  The sister bond is very strong, and brings joy into my life.  May this day be a good one, and may you have many more to share with family, Louise dear.

This old picture is a favorite - First day of school.  As I recall, Louise was a freshman and I was in the 5th grade.  Back to Penrose for a minute.

Fun Reading and Reminiscing

I found an ad for this magazine and decided to try it. What fun stuff. It's  full of stories about long ago. So many of them sound like the way we grew up. Check out their website at GoodOldDaysMagazine.com .

Something fun from the magazine is another website called: www.hollywood360radio.com . It will help you find a radio station near you or allow you to hear podcasts of Hollywood 360 on TalkZone. The radio shows left for this month are:
6-21:  The Aldrich Family, Dragnet, The Hollywood Star Playhouse and Escape
6-28:  Our Miss Brooks, Boston Blackie, Gunsmoke, The Humphrey Bogart Theatre.

With nothing good on TV, this may give us a fun alternative.

Have fun.

We Haven't Changed A Bit

We were just a couple of little kids 50 years ago. There were sure a lot of things for us to learn. I guess 50 years isn't much when compared to eternity, but it is hopefully a good start. 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY NO. 70 TO STEVE!

Another cherished classic of Stephen Michael taken by Dwight.  The background looks like some area we might be for a picnic.  What a charming child!  And you know what......he still has that ability.....to charm us all.  Happy Birthday to our LITTLE brother.  We are so happy that you are doing well....with Mary Lynn's help.

Happy, Happy Birthday Elizabeth, Dear!

Elizabeth's five children are mixed in here between a spouses and a couple of children.  You can tell that laughter rules when they are together.  Happy Birthday, Elizabeth!  79 is a really big number.  You are dear to us all.

Do Over - Surprise Package From Louise

I deleted a couple of posts from yesterday, because after reading them I thought they sounded a little "snarky". This is an attempt at doing better.
The mail brought me a surprise package from Louise. Can you guess what was in it? Just by way of a clue, I now know when she was born, when her children were born, who they are married to, etc. Thank you Louise for your efforts. That was a lot of gathering of info for you to do.

Her efforts put my/our family history project back on the front burner and hopefully will give everyone else the courage to get their records and photos to me over the next few weeks. Perhaps I am being optimistic, but I think we can still get this done by Christmas.

Remembering Mother

Robert Petersen, Shannon, and Mother in her backyard.

Mother's pose tells so much about her.  In-law children were included in her circle of care and love.  Grandchildren were at her side curious about what she was doing.  She stayed in her Sunday dress for the entire day, with an apron worn as she cooked Sunday dinner, washing dishes afterward.  The camera..........her own need to record the family doings to add to the years of history she had previously kept when she was able to stop time and that we can view anytime at our own desire.   And that smile..........and the touch of her hand. 

 

We are privileged to honor her this Mother's Day 2014.  We are forever grateful!

 

 

No Snow, No Rain, Just Pretty Posies

When we woke up this morning the radio was telling us that anyone traveling east out of Salt Lake City towards Park City should watch for the snowplows. However, we looked outside and although the mountains to the east of us were getting snow, we had sunshine. This is what our front yard looked like. Just thought I would share. Besides, after telling me that I am a pain in the neck, Dwight told me to post this.

Happy Birthday to Judy!

 One of my favorites from days of yore - written in Mother's hand.

 Judy always had a happy, optimistic outlook - and was full of nonsense from the get-go.  Love this picture -and she grew up to be beautiful.

And this picture, looking very un-Judy like, but look at the height of the lilac bush - early days in Penrose, for sure.

Judy, we can always depend on you for listening, counsel, advice (even if we don't always take it), and lots wisdom.  You have always helped us to look on the bright side of things, even in times of stress and difficulty.  Thank you for being there - can't wait to read your autobiography.  I know it will be full of memories, both shared and new to those of us who left home early on.  May this be a very good year for you and your family - you are dearly loved.

Look What Laura Found

I love it when Laura is on spring break and has computer time. Check out the link below for something really neat. Some of you may have already run across this, but it was new to me. How fun it is to see Dad's name. http://www.icollector.com/Thomas-Molesworth-Accent-Pieces_i12883316

Powell High School

Now, I read in the online pages of the PT that the "old" Powell High School is being torn down.  I remember in the early 1970's, when I went back to teach in Powell in Miss Harkins' English room in the REAL old high school, that this school was a state of the art high school, with wide halls, spacious rooms, etc.  Where did it all go wrong?  Has time really flown that fast?

Who Remembers the Radio Broadcasts of the Old Fashioned Revival Hour?

OK, this one has been rattling around in my brain (or little gray cells, as Poirot calls them) long enough.  So here it is:

This is radio station KGHL in Billings Montana bringing you Your Old Fashioned Revival Hour!
Every day with Jesus is sweeter than the day before
Every day with Jesus I love Him more and more
Jesus loves and keeps me and He's the One I'm waiting for
Every day with Jesus is sweeter than the day before

And with the little song, that's about as long as we ever listened to the Old Fashioned Revival Hour, so we never had an opportunity to become revived.  But how clearly I remember the song and the KGHL greeting.  One more tidbit among millions.

2 Cents From Judy

Maybe this might be something that Dwight had in mind with his last blog post.

From September of 1980, I have a letter from him of which I am quoting a snippet.

"If you can think of anything else Mom would like or would enjoy please either go ahead and get it and let me share expense or let me know so we can sent it from here.  There are so many things I have thought of over the years that I would like to send her and wish I could have or would have when she would have enjoyed them, but I don't think 'things' ever were that important to her, so at least maybe nothing has been lost.  I worry about her being warm in the night in that house, with the heat turned down."

This is just such a lovely passage, full of loving emotion.

Six Blood Siblings, Six Separate Sets of Memories

As of March 2014, we six Blood siblings are still around, meaning in mortality.  From oldest to youngest, we are Louise, Dwight, Elizabeth, Judy, Ann, and Steve.  Like the Blind Men and the Elephant, we each have a different view and a different set of memories of growing up in Penrose, Cody, and Ralston.  I (Dwight) was the first to leave, in January 1950.  Louise essentially left at the same time, since she moved into Powell to continue school at the junior college there.  I was 17 when I left home.  My memories of Penrose consisted of nine years in the little brown house, three years in Ralston, and four years in the white house that was the Blood family home until our parents moved to Washington state.  My sibling memories are most closely linked to Louise and Elizabeth, being closer in age.  I can remember the exact days that Ann and Steve were born but, for the life of me, I have no idea how Judy showed up there in our bedroom with the other three of us in the little brown house.

Thus, my memories of Penrose are most closely linked to we three older siblings, since the other three were still young when I left home.  Getting better acquainted with them during the past few years has been one of the delights of being a big brother.  Since I left home in 1950, most of my memories of Penrose are limited, first, to the little brown house where I spent the first nine years of my life.  This house today would hardly pass minimal housing standards but, to us, it was a paradise among the cottonwoods and the apple orchard. Louise started school in 1935 and I started school in 1936, riding the primitive school bus on an arduous long journey into Powell, 12 miles away as the crow flies, but many miles longer in collecting children along the route.  I wore bib overalls and had a bowl-type haircut with my blond bangs hanging in my eyes.

In 1941, we moved to a small farm a mile west of Ralston on the Powell-Cody highway.  We spent the war years there, again riding the school bus into Powell and enjoying the much shorter route and less time bouncing over the rough roads on the Penrose route.  And then in 1944, after my Uncle Orvil died, Dad moved us back to Penrose to manage Grandpa Wasden's farm, for a brief time with Uncle Norman Sorensen.

After leaving home, I was able to come home only sporadically.  During college at the University of Wyoming, I usually could not afford to come home for many of the holidays since I had to work to stay in school.  After leaving Laramie, we lived in Bozeman Montana, Fort Collins Colorado three times, Ann Arbor Michigan twice, Washington, D. C., State College Pennsylvania, Cheyenne Wyoming, Laramie again and, finally, Provo-Orem Utah.  Since our parents had moved to Olympia Washington, we rarely were able to have either the time or the resources to travel that far and, often, gaps of two or three years existed between times when we could visit our parents.

Thus, my memories of home and Penrose are restricted to a narrow early window of time and space.  It is up to everyone else to fill in the gaps and tell the stories and relive their own memories.  Judy is now writing her life story, Louise and Elizabeth have told their stories, and Judy is writing hers.  That means that Ann and Steve  remain to tell the missing stories from the times when none of the rest of us were around home and we can only fill in the gaps with our imaginations.

Besides our more formal life stories, we all have much to gain from sharing stories and reminiscences here on the blog.  Since some of cannot remember who played last night's basketball game, it matters little whether we can remember exact stories and sequences.  What matters is the spirit of the stories, the light we share from the memories, and the ties that bind us.

Ann is working on a great project with family pictures and brief family stories, and I need to finish my contribution to this project.  I hope we can all take just a few minutes now and then to share some special memory or story here on the blog since such postings tend to wake us all up and keep us in touch with each other.  And who knows how long we will be able to continue doing that?

Title picture

Dwight, don't know how else to let you know that the lilacs lend themselves so well to this repeating design along the sides, and I love the road sign.  Is that sign there now?

Wash Day in Penrose

This story by Ann needed to be brought to light, so here it is.  I hope you agree!

Dwight's post also suggests we talk about what went on in the kitchen/multipurpose room. Here are some of my imperfect memories. Since this is how I remember it, then this is how it must have been for me.
Saturdays were the most amazing. After breakfast was cleaned up, Mother would pull out the wringer washing machine from the closet, bring in the bench stand from outside, along with the tub that hung on the coal shed. It was used for rinsing the clothes in, once they were done agitating in the tub of the wringer washer. 

I was considered "too little" to be of much help, but I can remember going out to "help" hang the wet clothes on the clothes line. My job was to hand the wet clothes to the official hanger-upper.

When the laundry was washed and all hung out to dry, the washer went back into the closet and the tub went temporarily back outside. Then there was bread to make and sometimes something special to bake for Sunday. 

Cleaning supplies were kept in the kitchen closet and so we would drag (that is how I felt about that job) out the broom, dustpan, dust clothes and dust mop and clean the house. In my memory that was an every Saturday occurrence.

Then, when the day was winding down, the tub that had been previously used for rinsing the clean clothes was brought back into the kitchen. The fire in the coal stove was stoked which made the room toasty warm (most of the time), doors were closed, water was heated in both the water reservoir in the stove, as well as the tea kettle and we would start the round of Saturday night baths. The water got kind of thick as we got towards the end of 8 people, but I remember the water getting changed midway through, which probably meant either the tub was taken outside and dumped and then brought back in for round 2, or some of the water was scooped out using a bucket and then fresh, clean water was added to the tub. When the last bath was taken, Mother, who by then must have been absolutely exhausted, would get down on her hands and knees and, using the bath water, scrub the old linoleum kitchen floor. Regardless of our circumstances, she worked really hard to keep our home clean, as well as our family.

As to Elizabeth's comment about the electric stove, in my memory that was a magical time. I hadn't heard any discussion about what was going on until it happened. The stove was from the Home Ec. building at the high school. They were replacing the "old stoves" with a newer model and were selling the old ones for what must have been a good deal. And moving out of the coal stove meant the well worn linoleum would have to be replaced. I can remember the smell of the glue Dad used to lay down the new flooring, as well as the magic that happened when the wiring was done for the electric stove and it was plugged in. There were buttons on the stove that you pushed for the specific heat you needed on each burner. The buttons lite up in colors, which was "awesome". The clock had a timer on it that worked beautifully until it was struck by lightening. I can't remember who it was, but someone was standing washing dishes when the lightening struck, coming through the kitchen window and hitting the clock. It had a burned mark on it which served as a constant reminder of that event.

Throw Back Thursday--Oops it is Friday!

Beautiful Kathryn Ann and her little daughter, Kristen helping with a wedding at the Puget & Yew chapel.  1983.  That was a wonderful time for us with many family members close by.

Louise's Kitchen Komment!

Please note:  Louise's comment for Dwight's post about the Penrose kitchen!  I found it in the waiting to be reviewed to be published!  Good job, Louise.  Please don't quit trying!  Remember, you and I have a "deal" anyway.

A List of Items in the kitchen of our Penrose home 1944-1949

As best as I can remember, here are the items that were in the kitchen of our Penrose home during the years I was there between 1944 and 1949:

• Starting on the east side of the room to the right of the door to the living room: the clock shelf, with a succession of alarm clocks, some of which worked, some of which were cussed.  The clock on the clock shelf was the monitor of our lives, time for school, time for church, time for bed.
  
  
  
• Below the clock shelf was the woodbox (blue?) with kindling and paper to start fires in the kitchen and in the living room.
• In front of the woodbox was the coal bucket.
• Somewhere in the vicinity was the shovel, alternatively called the coal shovel or the fire shovel, used for adding small lumps of coal to the stove fires or for scooping ashes out of the ash pits of the stoves to haul outside.
• Next, moving to the right, the coal stove for both cooking and heating.  That meant trying not to cook much during the summer heat. As I remember, four removable lids were to the left on the top of the stove.  To the far right was the hot water reservoir.  Under the stove top was the oven.  A shelf was two or three feet above the stove top where the matches were kept.
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• On the south wall were two cupboards, one with doors (to the left of Liz who is drying dishes) and one open cupboard (to the right of Louise who is washing dishes).  Mother's meager collection of pots and pans were kept in the lower cupboard on the left.  Louise and Liz are using the two battered white enamel dishpans, used for bread making and everything else, but one for washing and one for rinsing at dish time.  To Louise's immediate right is the flour bin.  And then, in retrospect, the incredibly tiny fridge that served a family of eight people.  This is the only known photo of the south side of the kitchen.
• On the west wall just around the corner from the fridge was the wash stand on which were kept two water buckets carried in from the pump 20 yards away from the kitchen.  Also on the wash stand was an enamel wash basin.  To the immediate left on the floor was the "slop" bucket, in which leftovers and waste were dumped.  I taught Steve the principles of centrifugal force in showing him how to twirl a full slop bucket (outside, of course), over one's head without spilling a drop. Mostly, we threw waste water out the west door a little way out in the yard.  A single dipper for drinking was in the water buckets.  And, yes, we all drank out of it.
• Above the wash stand was the medicine cabinet.   Dad kept his HIS brand shaving soap and Gillette razor and blue blades there, which we replenished each Christmas for 25 cents a package from Fryer's Pharmacy in Powell.  Also, we had aspirin, but very little else.
• To the right of the washstand, between the washstand and the west door, was the cream separator.  The buckets of milk were carried in from the cowbarn after milking and the milk was separated from the cream after saving out enough milk in bottles in the fridge for drinking.  The cream was dumped in the cream can which reposed behind the slop bucket, where it soured and got hauled to town once a week to sell to the creamery there, and often provided the only meager ready cash for buying the week's necessities.  The skim milk was carried back out to the barn and fed to the calves.  Dad always said the skim milk gave the calves pot bellies, so I was always reluctant to drink skim milk for many years because I thought the same fate awaited me.
• To the right of the west door out to the yard and along the north wall was the table where eight people gathered to eat.  The clock shelf is on the wall in the background and you can see the stove back and shelf.
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• This concludes my inventory of the items in the very tiny kitchen in the Penrose home in which I spent my final five years at home before leaving for college.  A few years later, Dad added an electric stove and replaced the coal stoves with gas heat.  
• Additions and corrections and stories about what went on in this kitchen are welcome.