Hey, Ebbie:

I could say that I really like your curves, but that might sound sexist, so I'll say that I'm with you on this one. I prefer conversations; not impatient interchanges of inflexible opinions. When I was in college, I studied fossils. But I never enjoyed talking with them.

And here's a curve, right back atcha.

I talked to my Mother this morning. Since Ruth and I celebrated her birthday with her in June, she's been rapidly going down hill. She's reached a point now where she is so weak that it's difficult for her to talk. Most of the time when we call, she doesn't even answer the phone, although she keeps it within reach next to her bed. She's just too worn out to talk. So, we leave messages on her answering machine, and she appreciates that. It's what she needs these days... just hearing our voices, knowing that we love her and are praying for her. Yesterday, she had severe stomach pins, dry heaves and nauseau and it just about took her under. They wanted to put her in the health care center, but she knows that when she goes in there, there's only one way out. She'd rather stay in her room in assisted living, surrounded by the few things she's been able to keep that remind her of happier times.

Even though I could barely hear her when she talked, and she was having trouble hearing me, I wanted to tell her that I am doing a book about her life, with her memories, mine and the rest of the families, some family history and photographs and songs that I've written. She was very enthusiastic about that. I told her that I was sending her copies of two treasured letters she sent to me, long ago about her childhood memories. She was so happy to hear that, and even though she'll have to have someone else read them to her, I know that they will take her back to the days when she was a young girl, and her Mother was alive.

One paragraph relates to our kitchen table, so I thought that Id quote it:

"In the fall there was extra work to harvest the food and can and store it for the winter. I can remember sorting Navy Beans; we had a big table and we'd all sit around it and sort the good beans from the bad. Then, Mother stored them to make good baked beans and side pork in the winter. We had lots of good family banter while we were working. Brother Howard tuaght me the alphabet in German, which he was studying in High School. I have never forgotten it. We have some good singers in the family and Mother would get us going on hymns. Now and then we would digress and sing some rounds of Row, Row, Row Your Boat, and a song that went "Put on your old grey bonnet with the blue ribbons on it, and we'll hitch old Dobbin to the shay. Adn ride out to Dover through the fields of clover on our Golden wedding day." Dad and I took a trip to New Glarus on our 50th, and would you believe we sang that song? We did!"

She introduced her writing by saying "There was lots of work to do, eight children and a farm to run. I will try to tell you some of the things we did that kids now would really complain about, but they were a part of my life and I think it was beautiful."

The letter is mighty long to post here, but if anyone would like to read it, e-mail me at geraldrasmussen@SBCglobal.net and I'll e-mail a copy to you.

Jerry