Grew up on a southern minnesota farm. The good news: we weren't hungry, and only our everday work clothes were ragged and patched. The less good; the windows in the old house were so drafty, the pile of winter blankets on my bed was topped off with the remains of a very heavy old overcoat too worn out for wearing. I guess we had a good year in 1951 or 1952; Dad was able to update from the remains of the '34 Ford to a '49. In a lean year, I didn't always get a dime or a quarter by asking for it. The most regretable part was being so tied down with farm labor that, apart from going to school, it was a rare treat to do anything else. I'm afraid that all work and no play really did make Dean a rather dull boy in his early years.