May 23, 1981

Today is my oldest grandchild's 29th birthday. Brock Garret Botkin was born on a Saturday evening. I remember it so well. All afternoon I had been waiting for Doug's phone call to tell me their baby had been born. (He had called earlier to say Diane was in the hospital, in labor.)

I had to go to my second job as a waitress at the Airport Steakhouse west of Corning and had told Doug to call me there. Just as I had waited all afternoon, I waited all evening. Everytime the phone rang I was certain it was Doug. I was a nervous wreck - mixing up orders, forgetting to give patrons their guest checks, etc.

Finally, finally, the phone rang and it was for me. "We have a baby boy!" Most of the diners had already gone, but the ones that were still there soon learned that I was a grandmother. A young (37) grandma which was funny the next day when Mom and I went to Des Moines to see the baby. We were both in the room with Doug & Diane when a nurse came in and told me I'd have to leave - the rules were only parents and grandparents. "I AM the grandmother," I said, then pointed to Mom and said, "She is the great-grandmother."

We are lucky to have five-generation pictures with both our great-great grandmas - Ridnour on the left and Lynam on the right.

Happy 29th birthday, Brock.

The Brooks Greenhouse

My love of plants came at a very early age. Mom always had a large garden out of necessity - the food she raised fed us year-round. We had fresh vegetables during the growing season and canned ones the rest of the year.

One of my most favourite things about spring was going to Brooks to buy plants for the garden. I got so I could almost 'taste' the day when the trip was imminent. It was warm, but not hot; humid but not raining. Corning was our usual shopping destination but for plants we always went to Brooks - which was an adventure in itself. The greenhouse was on the north side of the street on the west side of town. It was operated by Jim and Elsie Stalder. The greenhouses were at the back of the lot next to their home. A series of "cold frames" were in front of the greenhouses.

Mom would park the car along the street in front then we had to climb a long set of cement steps. Their property set up on a high bank. There was a handrail made out of pipe that I remember playing on. If no one was outside or in the greenhouse, we went to the porch door and knocked. I can remember being invited into the house one time. There were so many flowers and plants growing - kind of like at Grandma Ridnour's only more so.

Mom always knew what she wanted - two dozen each of tomato and cabbage plants, a dozen pepper plants. What I wanted was flowers, but we never got them. Money was spent on what we needed, not what we wanted. But I loved going into the greenhouses and seeing all the flowers. I loved the moist smell of the earth and seeing all the different colors and types of flowers.

Even when new tomato varieties became popular, Mom always stuck to her tried and true Rutgers. Once she gave her order, the plants were lifted out of the flats and wrapped in newspaper. The prices were a little less in Brooks and there were always a few extra plants when we got them home. An article in the April 21, 1955 Free Press says that growing plants in flats was a method the Stalders learned from the Japanese when they lived in California for three years - that it was unheard of when they first started to do it back in Brooks. (Years later when we lived near Grimes, I started a packet of tomato seeds in two flats and ended up with 75 tomato plants in my garden that year.)

Once we got home a bucket of water was pumped and carried to the garden. Mom used the hoe to make the holes at appropriate distances. We set a plant in each hole, then went back to "water them in". That meant taking a dipper of water out of the bucket and pouring it into the hole as Mom pushed dirt in and set the plant upright. Once we were old enough we were allowed to set the plants while she poured the water. If we didn't do it just right, she would come back and straighten the plant. That was how we learned to garden. That was the fun part. Later would come the weeding and picking - the parts I never learned to like.

While I was still living outside Des Moines, I took the Greenhouse Management Course at DMACC. That was around the time I was planning on moving back to SW Iowa. I had no idea what I would do for income when I moved back home. Then I saw a 'For Sale' ad in the Free Press for a property in Brooks. I thought it was the Stalders property. I went home that weekend all excited about the possibility of buying and operating the greenhouse in Brooks. What surprised me the most about my pipe dream was that Dad was willing to back me. I forget the price being asked, but Dad said we would figure out someway to buy it if that was what I wanted. He and I drove to Brooks. That was when I realized it wasn't the Stalders property that was for sale. And for the first time, I realized the greenhouses were no longer even there.

I no longer dream of having my own, but I still love going into greenhouses - the smell, the color, the possibilities. I haven't had a vegetable garden for years. Now I buy those flowers I didn't get to buy sixty years ago.

Being a Good Sport

I have never been good at sports - as in playing games. And Bud would tell you I'm not a very good sport when it comes to losing - especially at Cribbage.
It all started in grade school when first graders were pitted against eighth graders. It wasn't so bad if we played "Drop the Hankie", "Hide and Seek", "London Bridge", "Mother May I?" or "Blind Man's Bluff". But if teams were chosen for "Red Rover, Red Rover", "Steal Sticks", "Prisoner's Base", "Ante-I-Over" (or as we called it, "Annie, Annie Over"), or Softball, I would be one of the last chosen. It got better when I was older but I never was a fast runner.
We didn't play "Ante-I-Over" too often. It might have had something to do with one of the school house windows being broken by the ball we used. When there weren't enough players to choose sides for softball, we played "Work-up". Each player chose a position (or drew for a spot), when there was an out, that person went to the last position (outfield or third base) and everyone moved up one spot until they got to bat. I always wanted to be the pitcher even though I wasn't very good at getting the ball over home plate. If not everyone got to bat before recess or noon hour was over, we'd "hold your position!" until the next recess and pick up where we left off.
Another game we played which I don't know the name of was like charades. We divided into two teams. The first team chose an occupation then advanced to the line saying "Ready or not, here I come." The other team would say, "Where are you from." Reply: "New Orleans." Question: "What's your trade?" Reply: "Ice Cream and Lemonade". Guessing team: "Then show us something if you're not afraid." The first team would begin acting out their occupation. When someone on the opposing side guessed the right trade, the members of the first team had to run back to the safety of their home line. If they were tagged, they joined the opposing team. What did we call that game??
There were times we joined two or three other country schools at the end of the year for a day of Games and Relays. I especially remember going over to Jasper #5 when I was in fourth grade. For a very long time I still had the ribbon I won that day. That was probably the biggest deal about the day besides competing against some new opponents - first, second and third place winners received ribbons. There were races, like 3-legged and sack. There was the broad jump, the high jump and the long jump. There were games involving throwing balls for distance and/or accuracy. You could compete in whatever you wanted to - you didn't have to try everything if you didn't want to, although the teachers did encourage us to try.
The reason I remember that day so well is because my teacher insisted I try the broad jump. I finally did and was in first place for my age group. That really made me feel good. Then just before the ribbons were given out, Pearl Thomas, the teacher from Jasper #4, made Steve Milliken take a turn. He bettered my jump by an inch or two and won. I was so disappointed about not winning, but as I said, I did keep that red second place ribbon for a long time.
I still remember the disadvantages country school kids had when they started to high school and had to play sports in phys ed. Not only had I never played volleyball or basketball, I didn't even know the rules. I think there was only one other girl chosen last more often than I was. Sometimes I was chosen among the first for basketball because I was tall. But the captains soon learned that being tall didn't make me a good basketball player.
Perhaps if I had been a better sport - and better at sports - I would have encouraged my own children to try out for the team sports when they were in school. Doug went out for Junior High Football at Johnston and played in a couple games before quitting. I remember being glad he quit. I didn't want to see him get hurt. I much preferred going to see my kids in plays and concerts.

"This Little Piggie.....

Went to Market. This little piggie stayed home." And this little piggie told me in a dream last night that it was time for me to write about my little piggies. Here I am in a picture from 1979 pointing out Faith, Hope, Charity and Grace. Grace is on the right with the full white band on her lovely Hampshire shoulders. I always had to look closer to determine the other three.

If asked if I would ever want to be a certain age again, I always say "no", I'm happy at the age I am now. But if I ever did go back to a place in time, this would have to be it. With the exception of losing my Dad, this was one of the happiest times in my life. I was already planning on moving back home to SW Iowa before Dad died. I wanted to be back closer to family and raising my children in the country.

I rented the house and buildings on the NE side of Tuck Corner. It was a big house, two car garage, chicken house and barn. I got four gilts from Mom and a box of baby chicks from Gurneys Seed Catalog as well as seeds for a big garden. I had a wood burning stove, a chain saw and a pickup. I was a happy, independent woman.

I was also the third generation of Hampshire Hog loving women. Grandma Delphia had her sows after Grandpa died. I remember one was named Minnie. Mom raised Hamps for many years. I remember sitting with one of Mom's sows all day. She was either trying to have her pigs or had had them and was suffering from mastitis. I just remember giving her shots and hoping she got better - which she did.

When it was time for Faith, Hope, Charity and Grace to have their first litters, I made pens for them in the old barn, put down fresh straw for bedding and waited. None of them needed any help. It was such a joy to watch the baby pigs being born. And seeing the different colors was exciting. The gilts had been bred to a Hamp boar, but he was a crossbred with Duroc and Spotted Poland bloodlines. Those little piggies were the cutest ever. I sold them as feeder pigs after they were weaned and hated seeing them go.

During the six years of living around Fairview before moving back to West Des Moines in '84, we raised more pigs and chickens as well as sheep and geese. I wanted goats, but everyone said you couldn't keep goats in - I had enough trouble with the other species getting through fences. I helped Mom with her cows and calves, but never wanted any of my own even though I still love seeing baby calves in the spring of the year.

I will always be grateful for those years and the experiences I had raising livestock.

Graduation Day - May 18, 1980

Twenty years after Kenny graduated from Prescott High School, his son, Douglas Sumner Botkin, graduated from Corning High School.

This mother, son, father picture of the three of us was taken at our house on Tuck Corner at Doug's reception after graduation. I think we'd all had more than a couple glasses of champagne. Kenny had on Doug's mortar board. I don't know why Doug & I had on cowboy hats except to be silly.

We had moved back to Corning at the beginning of Doug's junior year. It wasn't an easy time for him to be changing schools. He couldn't wait to get out of Corning and graduated mid-term in January. He moved to Perry with his Dad & family and started the Building Trades course at DMACC, but came back for the commencement excercises.

Doug's graduation was the first time Corning had combined Baccalaureate and Commencement exercises into the same day. Eighty seniors graduated on Sunday, May 18. Dolph Pulliam, Des Moines Channel 8 sports reporter and former Drake basketball star was the speaker. Rain forced the ceremony from the high school football field into the Armory.

When I look at this picture, I'm reminded that a month after it was taken, Kenny died. A year later, Doug became a father and I had met and started dating Bud. None of those things were even imagined that day.

I don't remember if we were aware of Mt. St. Helens erupting that morning. If so, it didn't make much of an impression on us. Maybe because the extent of the destruction wasn't known until later. More likely I was too focused on what was going on in my life - my first-born was leaving the nest and going out on his own.

May 17, 1960 - Graduation Day

Fifty years ago tonight, Doug's dad graduated from Prescott High School. The commencement speaker was Jack Shelley, news director of WHO radio and TV in Des Moines. I would like to say I remember what he spoke about, but the fact is I may not have even heard him.
From that year's diary: "Rode bus home. I got cows. Milked four of them. Took a bath and got ready. Kenny was supposed to be here at 6:30. Jim got here at 8:00! We got to Kenny's commencement at 8:20. Only twenty minutes late."
I should have been used to such tardiness by then. Kenny and I had been dating a little more than two months. I don't think he was ever on time. It was a point of contention as I was always on time or several minutes early.
Twenty seniors graduated from Prescott. Alphabetically, Kenneth Douglas Botkin was #1. Scholastically he was somewhere on down the line. I think he lettered in band and basketball. His graduating classmates were: Richard Bross, Sharon Chilcott, Janet Coleman, Barbara Crill, Carolyn Davis, Colleen Gerber, Mervin Knapp, Gary Krauth, Russell Perry, Ramona Preston, Janette Spring, John Stoaks, Laurie Tucker, Katherine Weaver, Dean West, Dora Willits, Merle Woodside, Sandra Wynn and Phyllis Vogel.
In the way paths cross in later years, Kenny's son Doug and Barbara Crill's son, Rod Coleman were friends when we moved back to Corning in '78. Phyllis Vogel's son, Jason White and my step-son, Mark Schaffer, were good friends in high school and were one another's best man at their weddings.
Sometimes when I read my granddaughter's facebook posts when they are in the throes of teenage romance, I understand the turmoil they are going through. It may be fifty years ago, but when I read my diary from that time it's the same angst: "Had a lot of fun over at their place (Botkin's) but I ruined it by being too truthful. I hate myself. I'm in a rotten mood. Everything was just perfect except for those few dark moments of wrong remarks."
Whatever I said probably wasn't as bad as I thought it was at the time. I sent him a letter the next day - apologizing, I'm sure. We only saw one another once or twice a week. I wonder if there would have been more or less drama in my life then if we'd had cell phones and texting?

The Day After the First Workday of Spring

Today has been cool, cloudy, windy and now rainy. Which may be a good thing the way I feel. Yesterday was gorgeous. Which is why I finally accomplished some much needed outside work. Work that my winter softened muscles weren't used to.

I don't yet have pictures of yesterday's plantings and improvements so I'll show some I took of the new perennials I planted last year.

This has to be one of my very favorites - one because of its name - "Linum" - and two because of its delicate little flowers and foliage. 'Blue Flax' is its common name. It begins each morning covered with flowers. They drop off by evening. The next day a whole new batch blooms. It seems to have a very good start in my flower bed which makes me happy. (One of the things I accomplished yesterday was trimming the grass along the pavers.)

This purple Creeping Phlox was already here when we moved in. It is right underneath our mailbox. It must like the cool, wet spring because it is much fuller this year. The big rock is one of the few which made the move with us.

Three of the five new Iris I bought on the trip Kristi, Jesse & I took to the Rainbow Iris Farm last year bloomed. The top one is 'Magic Bubbles'. The almost black one is 'Devil Baby'. 'Trifle' had already bloomed. I don't think the other two are going to bloom this year, but at least they survived the winter. Bloomfest! 2010 will still be going on while Kari & Ken are here. They both love Iris. I'm going to make sure we get there one of the days they are here. They'll love the "Irish Farm" as Jesse calls it.

Our weather is supposed to be sunny and warm by Tuesday. By then I should have the kinks worked out and be ready for another round of home improvements.