<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793306708719043413</id><updated>2011-07-22T16:10:55.939-07:00</updated><title type='text'>RAMBLINGS BY MARY</title><subtitle type='html'>Ramblings By A Gal Born in 1922</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mary M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10957775586910455042</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SjRZjd4cPyI/AAAAAAAACJY/5s01WkKoAok/S220/MARYM.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793306708719043413.post-461584377638914569</id><published>2010-01-29T12:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T12:52:24.764-08:00</updated><title type='text'>JANUARY 2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/S2NF1egZOeI/AAAAAAAACaQ/h8WirdcBzPs/s1600-h/winter+2010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/S2NF1egZOeI/AAAAAAAACaQ/h8WirdcBzPs/s320/winter+2010.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432262360563268066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;January 2010 is winding down and most of the month we've had snow similar to that in the picture.   Not only snow, but sleet, ice, fog, wind and some nights a windchill of -15 and some days only 4 above zero.   Getting out and about has been a real chore.  Slick sidewalks, streets and roads have been hazardous.  Those driving too fast for conditions have ended up in ditches all along I-57 and I-74 and here in town cars were sliding through stop signs and into the car in front of them.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bet you can guess, that we are all looking forward to an Early Spring.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4793306708719043413-461584377638914569?l=maryetest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/feeds/461584377638914569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4793306708719043413&amp;postID=461584377638914569&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/461584377638914569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/461584377638914569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/2010/01/january-2010.html' title='JANUARY 2010'/><author><name>Mary M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10957775586910455042</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SjRZjd4cPyI/AAAAAAAACJY/5s01WkKoAok/S220/MARYM.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/S2NF1egZOeI/AAAAAAAACaQ/h8WirdcBzPs/s72-c/winter+2010.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793306708719043413.post-5194765521746795271</id><published>2009-10-25T11:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T11:21:54.484-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MY 86TH FALL</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SuSV9kfNf5I/AAAAAAAACTg/WEKvr2P2iYk/s1600-h/pretty+leaves.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SuSV9kfNf5I/AAAAAAAACTg/WEKvr2P2iYk/s320/pretty+leaves.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396603138495840146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Fall again.....my 86th Fall.   How fortunate I have been.  I was born in November 1922 so as you can see, I will be having my 87th birthday soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm surprised at how fast the seasons pass. I'm so happy I can still enjoy them, still drive, am able to meet my friends for lunch, take some trips, watch sports on TV, belong to an exercise class and still do most of the things I have done all these years. (Maybe at a little slower pace).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also so fortunate to have my 3 sons, their wives, my grandkids and great grands. and two Sisters, who contact me or visit often. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No doubt this was all brought to mind today since I have been out in the sunshine, sweeping the beautiful maple leaves off my patio and sidewalk.   How happy I am to be able to see the beauty all around me and to still be able to hear the birds and watch the squirrels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thankful today for all the above and for the 86 years I have lived.  I've been  blessed....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4793306708719043413-5194765521746795271?l=maryetest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/feeds/5194765521746795271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4793306708719043413&amp;postID=5194765521746795271&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/5194765521746795271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/5194765521746795271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-86th-fall.html' title='MY 86TH FALL'/><author><name>Mary M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10957775586910455042</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SjRZjd4cPyI/AAAAAAAACJY/5s01WkKoAok/S220/MARYM.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SuSV9kfNf5I/AAAAAAAACTg/WEKvr2P2iYk/s72-c/pretty+leaves.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793306708719043413.post-633693185116695856</id><published>2009-08-10T20:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T14:45:50.244-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A SLIDE SHOW OF MY PAINTINGS</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;p style="visibility:visible;"&gt;&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://widget-a0.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" height="320" width="426" style="width:426px;height:320px"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://widget-a0.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" /&gt;&lt;param name="quality" value="high" /&gt;&lt;param name="scale" value="noscale" /&gt;&lt;param name="salign" value="l" /&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"/&gt; &lt;param name="flashvars" value="cy=ms&amp;il=1&amp;channel=1801439850954476192&amp;site=widget-a0.slide.com"/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;p style="white-space:nowrap"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4793306708719043413-633693185116695856?l=maryetest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/feeds/633693185116695856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4793306708719043413&amp;postID=633693185116695856&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/633693185116695856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/633693185116695856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/2009/08/slide-show-or-my-paintings.html' title='A SLIDE SHOW OF MY PAINTINGS'/><author><name>Mary M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10957775586910455042</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SjRZjd4cPyI/AAAAAAAACJY/5s01WkKoAok/S220/MARYM.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793306708719043413.post-7528362541713722307</id><published>2009-04-06T15:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T15:21:06.022-07:00</updated><title type='text'>AN OLD WOOLWORTH'S MENU</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch( e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/Sdp-Nq_Ta6I/AAAAAAAACB4/8_nXYC1D97c/s1600-h/Woolworth%27s+Menu.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/Sdp-Nq_Ta6I/AAAAAAAACB4/8_nXYC1D97c/s320/Woolworth%27s+Menu.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321704683034864546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CAN YOU BELIEVE A MALT, A SUNDAE OR A PIECE OF PIE JUST TWENTY FIVE CENTS AND A COKE FOR A DIME.  THOSE WERE THE DAYS. (CLICK ON MENU FOR AN EASIER READ).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4793306708719043413-7528362541713722307?l=maryetest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/feeds/7528362541713722307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4793306708719043413&amp;postID=7528362541713722307&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/7528362541713722307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/7528362541713722307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/2009/04/old-woolworths-menu.html' title='AN OLD WOOLWORTH&apos;S MENU'/><author><name>Mary M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10957775586910455042</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SjRZjd4cPyI/AAAAAAAACJY/5s01WkKoAok/S220/MARYM.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/Sdp-Nq_Ta6I/AAAAAAAACB4/8_nXYC1D97c/s72-c/Woolworth%27s+Menu.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793306708719043413.post-5660474932743075140</id><published>2009-01-05T13:34:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T10:10:15.899-08:00</updated><title type='text'>HOMER LAKE FOREST PRESERVE</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SWeR1B6ruvI/AAAAAAAABsA/OZVlqspCu6c/s1600-h/Homer_Lake_and_asstd_pics_november_5_2008_004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SWeR1B6ruvI/AAAAAAAABsA/OZVlqspCu6c/s320/Homer_Lake_and_asstd_pics_november_5_2008_004.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289356627603602162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SWeRr6Vlx3I/AAAAAAAABr4/Gjc0mryGwMw/s1600-h/Homer_Lake_and_asstd_pics_november_5_2008_009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SWeRr6Vlx3I/AAAAAAAABr4/Gjc0mryGwMw/s320/Homer_Lake_and_asstd_pics_november_5_2008_009.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289356470950152050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SWeRgPtEQxI/AAAAAAAABrw/yU1ScLQAUpg/s1600-h/Homer_Lake_and_asstd_pics_november_5_2008_008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SWeRgPtEQxI/AAAAAAAABrw/yU1ScLQAUpg/s320/Homer_Lake_and_asstd_pics_november_5_2008_008.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289356270527333138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               THESE ARE FROM ROGER ELLIS' COLLECTION&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4793306708719043413-5660474932743075140?l=maryetest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/feeds/5660474932743075140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4793306708719043413&amp;postID=5660474932743075140&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/5660474932743075140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/5660474932743075140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/2009/01/homer-lake-forest-preserve.html' title='HOMER LAKE FOREST PRESERVE'/><author><name>Mary M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10957775586910455042</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SjRZjd4cPyI/AAAAAAAACJY/5s01WkKoAok/S220/MARYM.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SWeR1B6ruvI/AAAAAAAABsA/OZVlqspCu6c/s72-c/Homer_Lake_and_asstd_pics_november_5_2008_004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793306708719043413.post-972561633274004990</id><published>2009-01-05T11:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T13:04:51.359-08:00</updated><title type='text'>FOOD FOR SENIORS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SWJipcuZRbI/AAAAAAAABrI/ZtPFFP4w9Q4/s1600-h/Mary_Ellis_Gazette_Food_Drive.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SWJipcuZRbI/AAAAAAAABrI/ZtPFFP4w9Q4/s320/Mary_Ellis_Gazette_Food_Drive.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287897376711329202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This picture was taken in November by a News Gazette photographer, when I took packages of food for the FOOD FOR SENIORS program.  I'm hoping everyone is helping with the food drives.  With the economy as it is, so many people need food.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4793306708719043413-972561633274004990?l=maryetest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/feeds/972561633274004990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4793306708719043413&amp;postID=972561633274004990&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/972561633274004990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/972561633274004990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/2009/01/food-for-seniors.html' title='FOOD FOR SENIORS'/><author><name>Mary M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10957775586910455042</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SjRZjd4cPyI/AAAAAAAACJY/5s01WkKoAok/S220/MARYM.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SWJipcuZRbI/AAAAAAAABrI/ZtPFFP4w9Q4/s72-c/Mary_Ellis_Gazette_Food_Drive.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793306708719043413.post-635258573849636604</id><published>2008-08-21T13:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T14:00:24.245-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HOWARD-ELLIS WEDDING, AUGUST 21, 1943</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SK3XCkFL5RI/AAAAAAAABV8/3yx6IX-F0cA/s1600-h/wedding+picture.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SK3XCkFL5RI/AAAAAAAABV8/3yx6IX-F0cA/s320/wedding+picture.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237078380746892562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sixty Five years ago today, (August 21, 1943) I was married  in Storrs, Connecticut.   The wedding wasn’t very elaborate according to today's weddings.....Now it is the long white dress, veil, church full of people, large dinner, lovely cake and a honeymoon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it was just two young people, far away from home, during war time....and being married in the Mayor's home, where I was rooming.   An Army buddy stood up with  Dale  and a UConn Student (I'd only known 2 weeks) stood by me.  I even wore her shoes, as mine weren't nice enough.   Mrs. Hall played the piano while I came down a few stairs. The Minister from the Congregational Church in Willimantic Connecticut married us......Mrs. Hall (June) had set the table with a  nice linen tablecloth, a vase of garden flowers and she had baked a cake.....it had no icing because of sugar rationing.....lucky to just have a cake.  All four of the Hall kids and Burt ( their Dad) were there...and they thought it a big deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the ceremony and the cake......we had to ride to Willimantic with the Preacher (we gave him either $5 or $10) for marrying us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once in town, we stopped at a restaurant and we both had a spaghetti dinner....Dale was so nervous, he hardly ate a thing, but I ate mine and finished up his.....(must have been a charming bride, sitting there eating spaghetti and garlic bread).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had reservations at the Nathan Hale hotel for that Saturday night.   Sunday evening, we hopped on a bus, and headed back to Storrs.   Dale's Army group had to stay at a dorm on Campus, and I went back to the Halls and the room I shared with the college student .....There was no honeymoon to some distant island, a cruise, or even any free time because Dale was in Service and due in Class on  Monday morning I had to be back at my new Secretarial job with the Department of Engineering on the Storrs Campus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had taken a vacation from my job at the U of I, and our getting married depended upon me being able to find a job in Connecticut.  I was fortunate as I was hired on my first interview.  It’s a good thing because we had only $98 between the two of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later Dale was transferred to Medford, Oregon, then to San Luis Obispo, California, and from there sent to the South Pacific.&lt;br /&gt;He was in the Philippines, and the Invasion of Okinawa, returning home January 1946.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 1993 we celebrated our 50th Anniversary.   Our three sons planned the affair with many attending, beautiful gifts, and Roger baked us the most beautiful wedding cake…….This time the cake had icing (and lots of it).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dale passed away just two months before our 59th Anniversary.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4793306708719043413-635258573849636604?l=maryetest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/feeds/635258573849636604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4793306708719043413&amp;postID=635258573849636604&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/635258573849636604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/635258573849636604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/2008/08/howard-ellis-wedding-august-21-1943.html' title='HOWARD-ELLIS WEDDING, AUGUST 21, 1943'/><author><name>Mary M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10957775586910455042</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SjRZjd4cPyI/AAAAAAAACJY/5s01WkKoAok/S220/MARYM.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SK3XCkFL5RI/AAAAAAAABV8/3yx6IX-F0cA/s72-c/wedding+picture.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793306708719043413.post-5355393229008797043</id><published>2008-08-02T11:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:53:14.002-08:00</updated><title type='text'>MY FIRST JOB AT THE U OF I</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SJSpUWB8tVI/AAAAAAAABVk/9rIkuukEwqc/s1600-h/LCSmith8superscan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SJSpUWB8tVI/AAAAAAAABVk/9rIkuukEwqc/s320/LCSmith8superscan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229991234260219218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the typewriter I used when I started my first job with the Home Economics Extension Department at the University of Illinois, February 1942.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jobs were very hard to find. I had graduated in May 1941 with a scholarship to a small College or a 3 month scholarship to attend Danville Institute of Business. There was no way my folks could help me with College expenses so I went to Business College and worked at Kresge's Five and Dime on Saturdays. I worked eight hours and earned $1.98 as they took two cents out for Social Security.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After finishing the 3 months at Danville Institute of Business, I went to work for Illinois Printing. That lasted only a few months. Then they started laying off....I was the last hired so the first to be let out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had heard there were openings at the University of Illinois and that the jobs were secure if you could get hired and worked really hard. I went to the Nonacademic Office and was sent on job interviews. Everywhere I interviewed I heard the same comment "I'm sorry, but you have no experience". When I arrived at my third interview, I was getting tired, upset, and felt I would be going home without being hired. When Mrs. Klockner in Home Economics Extension said "I'm sorry, but you have no experience", I spoke up and said "I don't know how I will get experience if no one will hire me".&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea how I had the nerve to do that. Anyway, she went into another office, then came back and said "come to work on Monday morning". I thought they were the sweetest words I had ever heard. Years later, she told me that she felt I was spunky, and since I had the nerve to speak up, I would probably be a good worker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a Clerk Typist and the L C Smith was my first typewriter. I typed letters, manuscripts, speeches, etc. At times had to make 10 copies and to do that, put a steel platen into the typewriter, and used 9 sheets of carbon paper. Certainly didn't want to make an error as it was a real pain to put a small piece of paper behind each carbon, erase, then remember to take out each piece. We had no copy machines at that time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We worked a 44 hour week and my monthly check was $76. At that time, it seemed like lots of money. I roomed with two other girls and we each paid $10 a month rent, and when I went home on weekend, my parents would send food back with me. I had enough money to start a Savings Account.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They now call those "THE GOOD OLD DAYS".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;                                                                           &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4793306708719043413-5355393229008797043?l=maryetest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/feeds/5355393229008797043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4793306708719043413&amp;postID=5355393229008797043&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/5355393229008797043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/5355393229008797043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-first-job-at-u-of-i.html' title='MY FIRST JOB AT THE U OF I'/><author><name>Mary M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10957775586910455042</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SjRZjd4cPyI/AAAAAAAACJY/5s01WkKoAok/S220/MARYM.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SJSpUWB8tVI/AAAAAAAABVk/9rIkuukEwqc/s72-c/LCSmith8superscan.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793306708719043413.post-7930329329255737813</id><published>2008-06-24T14:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:53:14.247-08:00</updated><title type='text'>NEW TENNIS SHOES</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SGFozB9oYkI/AAAAAAAABT8/e-yvnHc2hRs/s1600-h/TENNIS_SHOES.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SGFozB9oYkI/AAAAAAAABT8/e-yvnHc2hRs/s320/TENNIS_SHOES.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215565069381296706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A FAVORITE PICTURE FROM THE 1950'S&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the 1950's we didn't have two incomes, credit cards or much money in the bank.&lt;br /&gt;When our three sons needed new tennis shoes we would have to buy a pair each payday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one time we scraped together enough money to buy all three boys a pair of tennis shoes, (on the same day).....They were happy and their Dad and I were so thrilled they all had new shoes at the same time,  I took the above picture.&lt;br /&gt;They weren't the name brands of today....Air Jordan's, Nikes, etc., but it made no difference to my boys in those days.   Name brands weren't  the "in" thing as they are nowadays.   My kids were happy just having new, clean "tennies".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4793306708719043413-7930329329255737813?l=maryetest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/feeds/7930329329255737813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4793306708719043413&amp;postID=7930329329255737813&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/7930329329255737813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/7930329329255737813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/2008/06/new-tennis-shoes.html' title='NEW TENNIS SHOES'/><author><name>Mary M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10957775586910455042</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SjRZjd4cPyI/AAAAAAAACJY/5s01WkKoAok/S220/MARYM.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SGFozB9oYkI/AAAAAAAABT8/e-yvnHc2hRs/s72-c/TENNIS_SHOES.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793306708719043413.post-7763653424218595712</id><published>2008-06-06T14:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:53:14.478-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THE LITTLE RED WAGON</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SEmvRITfNYI/AAAAAAAABTQ/s1fFTRdmH4A/s1600-h/MARY_WITH_WAGON.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SEmvRITfNYI/AAAAAAAABTQ/s1fFTRdmH4A/s320/MARY_WITH_WAGON.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208887152852546946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Arlene, Joan, Mary &amp;amp; Wagon  Spring 1930&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LITTLE RED WAGONS BRING BACK FOND HOLIDAY MEMORIES&lt;br /&gt;by Tom Jennings&lt;br /&gt;For 50 Plus Lifestyles November 2004&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;For Mary M. Ellis, it was a wonderful life, particularly when, at age 9, Santa Claus paid an unannounced, if somewhat noisy, never-to-be forgotten visit to her and her sisters. It happened on a farm near Homer, IL, one long, crisp, cold but very clear December 24 night into day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I remember looking out the window and seeing stars in the sky....then quickly tucking my head under the covers so Santa wouldn't see me," says Mary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the trio of tots went to bed that eve, visions of sugar plums and scarlet carts danced o'er their beds. Mary and her younger Sister, who shared the same bed, donned the appropriately snug flannel pajamas (they may have been red). The baby of the family, just 8 months old, sported a nightgown and slept in a baby bed. they all shared the same room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We didn't have the luxury of our own rooms with bath and bushels of toys as kids do nowadays," she says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then..........Well, let's let Mary tell the tale in her own words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My sisters and I had gone to bed and were anxiously awaiting Santa. three excited little girls could not sleep because of the excitement," Mary recalls with fondness. "Suddenly the sound of sleigh bells was heard." That was outside the farmhouse. Inside, not a peep but the chest-pounding heart beats of the threesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed. "It must be Santa, and if he found us awake, he would not leave us toys." The children quickly, instinctively, formed a course of action. "We pretended to sleep...and finally did sleep."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Early the next morning, the giggling girls couldn't stand it any longer. They were up at dawn to see what Santa had brought them. Would the jolly elf go that extta mile for them, or would reality intrude and leave them disappointed? In those Depression days, toys were hard to come by and getting something like that was almost unheard of.&lt;br /&gt;"We were farm people and always had plenty to eat and to keep us warm but not many frivolous things," Mary explains. "There were our socks, full of an orange and nuts and other little gifts, but the grandest was the little red wagon. We had wanted a wagon, and there it was," she says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mary alone, did not hog the crimson four-wheeler; she was brought up better than that. Her first thought was to share her joy and chauffeuring skills with her siblings. "on Christmas Day, I could pull that wagon with my little sisters riding along in their warm snowsuits," says Mary. The ever-challenging Midwestern winter weather did not deter the intrepid three amigas, as fortune and a snowstorm smiled upon them the very next week. From then on, I think I pulled my little sisters many miles in that red wagon." states Mary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For every prepubescent boy and girl who grew up in America during much of the 20th century, the aptly named Little Red Wagon signified countless voyages into the land of fairy tales and sugar plum fairies. "Their beauty, simplicity and standards of safety become magical qualities that nurture the wonder of childhood and bring imaginations to life. Radio Flyer wagons are truly icons of Americana." During the 1930's, Radio Flyer's exhibit at the Chicago World's Fair made Radio Flyer world famous. By the '50s. Radio flyer began to design specialty wagons inspired by popular movies and TV shows of the time, such as the Mickey Mouse Club and Davy Crockett. Today, the company, ever expanding its product line, still lives and continues to breath life into the imaginations of children and adults alike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From October 1979 through March 1992, Mary and her Late husband, Dale, were Barefoot Bay, FL homeowners, living in the Bird Section at that time, reports the busy senior. "My years in Barefoot Bay were very enjoyable. We did love it there. Vero Beach was my favorite town, and we spent many Saturdays there shopping on Ocean Drive out along the beach," Mary recalls. An artist of some renown, Mary who belonged to both the Barefoot Bay Art Guild and the Sebastian Art Club, reminds, "I'm sure there are many around Vero Beach with one of my paintings."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To this day she stays quite active. "I feel fortunate to have good health. Maybe it was that Florida sunshine while living in Barefoot Bay," she says. Constantly on the go, Mary, on the original committee that helped form the Barefoot Bay Spinners club, continues to keep up the pace in Urbana-Champaign, IL. where she used to be employed by the University of Illinois, as was her husband. She was secretary to Head of Department of Food Science, and Dale was a Printing Pressman and Offset Plate-maker with the University Print Shop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They raised three sons, Steve, Mark and Roger, and they all have wives and families.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh yes, I never grew tired of the red wagon, and we had it for many years," Mary, now 82, says. Credit for the wonderful, still farm-fresh memories goes to her parents, a.k.a., Santa and Mrs. Claus. "My parents were great people, and I'm sure their hearts swelled with pride when they dug up enough money to buy that little Red Wagon and found that we kids were so happy," says Mary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In later years we realized that sound of sleigh bells was our Dad, running through the yard with the old bells they used years ago on their sleigh,". "they had always hung on a nail in our barn. What a wonderful thing that Dad decided to use them that night. It is a Christmas I will never forget."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4793306708719043413-7763653424218595712?l=maryetest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/feeds/7763653424218595712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4793306708719043413&amp;postID=7763653424218595712&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/7763653424218595712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/7763653424218595712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/2008/06/little-red-wagon.html' title='THE LITTLE RED WAGON'/><author><name>Mary M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10957775586910455042</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SjRZjd4cPyI/AAAAAAAACJY/5s01WkKoAok/S220/MARYM.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SEmvRITfNYI/AAAAAAAABTQ/s1fFTRdmH4A/s72-c/MARY_WITH_WAGON.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793306708719043413.post-6907122467117357572</id><published>2008-03-20T18:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:53:14.674-08:00</updated><title type='text'>FRIENDSHIP 1944-2007</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/R-MfOXweWaI/AAAAAAAABRE/pbcmwpoQInM/s1600-h/eLLISsKARPS.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/R-MfOXweWaI/AAAAAAAABRE/pbcmwpoQInM/s320/eLLISsKARPS.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180018328162163106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;              ELLIS'      1944      SKARPS         &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.blogger.com/%3Ca%20href=http://www.socialurl.com/photos/album_viewer.asp?folderid=17573&amp;amp;imageID=310462%3E%3Cimg%20src=http://media.socialurl.com/photo/38/4038/17573/310462_large.jpg%3E%3C/a%3E"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.blogger.com/%3Ca%20href=http://www.socialurl.com/photos/album_viewer.asp?folderid=17573&amp;amp;imageID=310462%3E%3Cimg%20src=http://media.socialurl.com/photo/38/4038/17573/310462_large.jpg%3E%3C/a%3E" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                 CHRISTMAS CARD FRIENDSHIP&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pearl Skarp and I met in Medford. Oregon when our husbands were stationed at Camp White in 1943 during World War II.   Pea rl had&lt;br /&gt;traveled there from Virginia, MN to be with her husband Bob and I had taken a train from Champaign, Illinois and arrived in Medford on New Year's Eve 1943 to be with Dale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had left home with only $100 and paid $66 for my train ticket.  On that train trip, with such a small amount of money in my pocket, I was fortunate that a group of young Sailors (just finishing boot camp) got on the train in Minneapolis.   During the war, at every train stop USO served sandwiches, fruit, desserts and drinks.  The young Sailors would hop off the train, pick up food and they always brought back some for me.  On that 4 day and 3 night trip, I only ate in the Diner a couple of times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were many Army and Navy wives, going West to be with their husbands.   Many had babies and small children.   It was much more tiring for them as we did not have Pullman and sat up the whole time.   It seemed a very long journey, but we were all young and anxious to be with our loved ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I arrived in Medford Dale met me and we were fortunate to be able to stay on the Army Base for 3 nights.   We checked the newspapers for rooms to rent.   Finding one we felt we could afford, we took a cab and&lt;br /&gt;when we arrived at the house another couple arrived at the same time, so we ran to the door....and got the room.  It was $30 a month.   There was no heat in the room and Oregon is very chilly and damp during winter months,&lt;br /&gt;so many times we slept in sweaters....Dale could eat at the Army base and&lt;br /&gt;during the week I ate at the Rolling Pin Doughnut Shop.  We both ate there on weekends and a full Sunday meal was 55 cents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a job in the Camp White laundry.   I worked there about a month, then&lt;br /&gt;got on at Montgomery Ward in the paint department.   In April the 96th Division was being transferred to San Luis Obispo, California.  Pearl and I decided we needed to get to San Luis Obispo early, before the Division&lt;br /&gt;arrived so we could get housing and a job.   I was fortunate and since I had been with Montgomery Ward in Medford, was hired and was lucky to be put in the Catalog Order Department.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Division had orders to be shipped to the Pacific about the middle of June 1944.   They were saving all seats on trains for the soldiers so they could make one last furlough home before shipping out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is when Pearl and I decided to take a Greyhound back home.  It was great we had met and didn't have to travel alone.   We would be traveling together as far as St. Louis, MO.   We would arrive home a couple of days before our husbands arrived.   We boarded the Greyhound with suitcases filled to the brim with what few clothes we had, and any items we wanted&lt;br /&gt;to bring back home with us.   This was on a Monday morning.  That night we stayed in Los Angeles......our last good night's sleep for many days.&lt;br /&gt;On Tuesday morning we waved goodbye to LA and were on our way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 1944 the buses were quite nice, but there was no bathroom or air conditioning.   Pearl was 5 months pregnant.   It seemed a long way between rest stops.....more so for her I'm sure.   We had bus stops for meals and rest stops about every two hours.   Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday went by.   We stopped at the Painted Desert and some historical  sights along the route.   We were getting very tired and during the day the smell of diesel from the exhaust was beginning to get to us.  I&lt;br /&gt;remember we stopped in Kansas City, MO.   It was a bit longer stop than&lt;br /&gt;most and we got out and sat on the curb in the hot sun.   By then we were&lt;br /&gt;so weary.   Saturday about noon we arrived at the Greyhound Bus Station&lt;br /&gt;in St. Louis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were very tired from the long trip across the country.   Pearl's feet were so swollen she had to kick off her shoes and go barefoot in the bus station... We were sorry to have to part and say goodbye to one another.   Pearl was headed for Virginia, MN and my bus was to Champaign, IL.  I remember arriving in Champaign about noon on Saturday.....and I know it was several hours later that Pearl arrived in Virginia, MN.   Our husbands&lt;br /&gt;arrived home a few days later and we had about 10 days then they boarded the train to go back to San Luis Obispo and in a few days were shipped to&lt;br /&gt;the South Pacific.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pearl had Judy four months after arriving home.   I went back to work at&lt;br /&gt;the University of Illinois.   In early 1946 our husbands arrived home from&lt;br /&gt;the War.   We were so fortunate they both survived the Pacific battles and returned to us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dale and I had 3 sons, 8 grandsons, one granddaughter, and 3 living great grand children.   One grandson passed away when he was 1 1/2.   Bob and Pearl had the one daughter, 3 grandchildren and 1 great grandchild.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The amazing part of this story.......Pearl and I have not seen one another&lt;br /&gt;since that day in 1944 when we hugged one another and parted in the St. Louis Greyhound Bus Station.   We have never missed one Christmas without sending each other a Christmas Card with a note and sometimes pictures.   We call  it our Wonderful Christmas Card Friendship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here it is the year 2008 and we are no longer the young wives heading West to see our Soldier husbands....We are both in our eighties.   Bob and Dale have  passed away.  They were wonderful husbands and Fathers.   Christmas 2007  was 63 years of keeping in touch with Christmas Cards.   We are looking forward to our 64th Christmas card in 2008.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.socialurl.com/photos/album_viewer.asp?folderid=" imageid="310461"&gt;&lt;img src="http://media.socialurl.com/photo/38/4038/17573/310461_large.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;                                                                 &lt;br /&gt;                    2007&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4793306708719043413-6907122467117357572?l=maryetest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/feeds/6907122467117357572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4793306708719043413&amp;postID=6907122467117357572&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/6907122467117357572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/6907122467117357572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/2008/03/through-years-1944-2007.html' title='FRIENDSHIP 1944-2007'/><author><name>Mary M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10957775586910455042</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SjRZjd4cPyI/AAAAAAAACJY/5s01WkKoAok/S220/MARYM.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/R-MfOXweWaI/AAAAAAAABRE/pbcmwpoQInM/s72-c/eLLISsKARPS.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793306708719043413.post-6219631204084574884</id><published>2008-03-10T13:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:53:14.780-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A LITTLE GIRL AND A CANDY BAR</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/R9WW6cw2fOI/AAAAAAAABP8/ngStzeKolXM/s1600-h/Baby+Ruth+Candy+Bar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/R9WW6cw2fOI/AAAAAAAABP8/ngStzeKolXM/s320/Baby+Ruth+Candy+Bar.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176209277629922530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;pre&gt;&lt;tt&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE BABY RUTH CANDY BAR EPISODE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One bright, sunny afternoon when&lt;br /&gt;I was about eight or nine years&lt;br /&gt;old, Dad was going to take a load&lt;br /&gt;of wheat to the grain elevator&lt;br /&gt;and it was quite a&lt;br /&gt;distance to ride in a wagon pulled&lt;br /&gt;by two horses.   He thought&lt;br /&gt;I would keep him company on that&lt;br /&gt;long trip. I was delighted he asked&lt;br /&gt;me to go so I could spend a little&lt;br /&gt;time with him all by myself. No&lt;br /&gt;doubt I jabbered like a magpie all&lt;br /&gt;the way there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While the men at the grain elevator&lt;br /&gt;unloaded the wagon....they scooped&lt;br /&gt;off the load as they had no&lt;br /&gt;automatic equipment back then...Dad&lt;br /&gt;and I went into the elevator office&lt;br /&gt;and got a drink of water. While in&lt;br /&gt;there I spotted a candy bar machine.&lt;br /&gt;Dad probably took his last nickel&lt;br /&gt;and dropped it in the machine.&lt;br /&gt;I chose a BABY RUTH and in those&lt;br /&gt;days candy bars were huge. Sure&lt;br /&gt;got a lot for a nickel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember as we crawled back up on&lt;br /&gt;the seat of the wagon to head home,&lt;br /&gt;I unwrapped that delicate morsel.&lt;br /&gt;How exciting to have a whole candy&lt;br /&gt;bar for myself. I remember taking&lt;br /&gt;one huge bite and as I chewed up&lt;br /&gt;the nuts and swallowed, I looked&lt;br /&gt;down at the candy bar in my hand&lt;br /&gt;and there were huge, white worms&lt;br /&gt;crawling out of those peanuts.&lt;br /&gt;What a horrible sight and I threw&lt;br /&gt;the candy bar over the side of&lt;br /&gt;the wagon.   Talk about upset..&lt;br /&gt;not only that I had eaten the&lt;br /&gt;worms, but that I had to throw&lt;br /&gt;the rest of that delicacy away.&lt;br /&gt;I think my jabbering stopped and&lt;br /&gt;I was quiet the rest of the way&lt;br /&gt;home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In those days, with no air&lt;br /&gt;conditioning, it was hot in the&lt;br /&gt;office where the candy machine&lt;br /&gt;was located and so few people&lt;br /&gt;had extra nickels to use for&lt;br /&gt;candy, that bar had probably&lt;br /&gt;been in the machine a long time.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, long enough to get wormy&lt;br /&gt;and ruin a little girl's after-&lt;br /&gt;noon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For years, I would look at the&lt;br /&gt;Baby Ruth candy bars and have no&lt;br /&gt;desire for one....I always imagined&lt;br /&gt;worms crawling out of the peanuts. As&lt;br /&gt;time went on I decided to buy&lt;br /&gt;one and sure enough, it wasn't&lt;br /&gt;wormy, and it tasted great. They&lt;br /&gt;are much smaller now, but once in&lt;br /&gt;awhile, I buy one just for "old&lt;br /&gt;times sake".....&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;/tt&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;      &lt;!-- type = text --&gt;      &lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4793306708719043413-6219631204084574884?l=maryetest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/feeds/6219631204084574884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4793306708719043413&amp;postID=6219631204084574884&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/6219631204084574884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/6219631204084574884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/2008/03/little-girl-and-candy-bar.html' title='A LITTLE GIRL AND A CANDY BAR'/><author><name>Mary M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10957775586910455042</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SjRZjd4cPyI/AAAAAAAACJY/5s01WkKoAok/S220/MARYM.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/R9WW6cw2fOI/AAAAAAAABP8/ngStzeKolXM/s72-c/Baby+Ruth+Candy+Bar.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793306708719043413.post-4778778618653792791</id><published>2008-03-04T13:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:53:15.486-08:00</updated><title type='text'>DESTROYED BY FIRE IN 1933</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/R9CbMZhgmWI/AAAAAAAABO4/Fe_OugeT1mQ/s1600-h/South+of+Homer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/R9CbMZhgmWI/AAAAAAAABO4/Fe_OugeT1mQ/s200/South+of+Homer.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174806609160870242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/R88hZZhgmOI/AAAAAAAABNs/-LkBA-ghDR8/s1600-h/South+of+Homer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/R88hZZhgmOI/AAAAAAAABNs/-LkBA-ghDR8/s200/South+of+Homer.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174391217103870178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;THE HOUSE SOUTH OF HOMER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;The house shown above was where I was born and lived for the first 10 years of my life.  It was built in 1890 and a show place in the country near&lt;br /&gt;Homer, IL.   It was a 10 room house with a basement, bathroom, built in China cabinets, beautiful woodwork and stairway.   There was a stained glass insert at the top of the living room window.  On Wednesday night, August 11, 1933, lightning in all it's fury, struck the house and burned it to the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents and 18 month old Sister were inside  (my six year old&lt;br /&gt;Sister and I were away visiting an Aunt).   My Mother was awakened&lt;br /&gt;by the sound of voices yelling "your house is on fire, your house is on fire, wakeup everyone".  She heard them and, in her nightgown, ran outside and could see large patches of the roof burning.   Back inside she  got my Father awake (he pulled on his overalls) they grabbed the baby&lt;br /&gt;and ran outside.   By that time, neighbors had called the fire department&lt;br /&gt;and two men who had arrived ran inside and dragged out the baby bed, a small chest of drawers, Mother's Hope Chest, a rocker and a library table.&lt;br /&gt;By then they could see the stairs burning, and could hear mirrors and windows popping and cracking, then the roof fell in and the house was totally destroyed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning, my Parents called my Aunt to bring us home.  It&lt;br /&gt;was such trauma for all of us.   We could still see the smoldering ruins&lt;br /&gt;and knew all our belongings were gone.   My parents had such a small amount of insurance.  We had great friends and neighbors and they brought money for clothes, and things we needed right away, then in a few days gave a shower with kitchen utensils, bedding, towels, and things we could use since we had to live in our garage for 6 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the smoldering ruins cooled, we were allowed to go into the basement and as we dug through the ruins, found a doll's head, twisted knives and forks, some broken china.  I remember seeing my parents cry for the very first time.  It was heart rendering for a child of 10.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man and woman who ran through the yard yelling "your house is on fire" were just driving down the road, when they saw a flash of lightning strike the house and then saw flames as it began to burn.  They&lt;br /&gt;saved my Parents and little Sister.  Mother and Dad  were told by a Doctor that the lightning had stunned them and they would have burned with the house without the man and woman, just mentioned. They said they were  returning to their home from the Chicago World's Fair but did not give their names.   To this day we do not know who the two people were, or where they were from.  Mother always said, they were "Two Strangers in The Night.... Angels in Disguise".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The of summer of 1933 had been very hot and dry. The grass was burned brown and the garden had dried up.  While we lived in the garage for the six weeks, it was terribly hot and my Mother cooked on a little oil burning stove.   Someone brought us cots to sleep on and with the bedding, towels, etc. given to us we, were able to survive until a house became available.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following is a poem I have written about "THE HOUSE SOUTH OF HOMER".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a lovely farm home on a knoll South of town&lt;br /&gt;A show place in the country, fields all around&lt;br /&gt;I was born there in 1922 on a cold November day&lt;br /&gt;My folks were happy, I've heard them say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As time went on, two Sister's arrived&lt;br /&gt;Making us a Family of five&lt;br /&gt;The farm house was big, with plenty of room&lt;br /&gt;We were happy there until the lightning boom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Early onee morning, August 9, 1933 to be exact&lt;br /&gt;Things changed for this family of five, in fact&lt;br /&gt;The house burned to the ground in a few seconds flat&lt;br /&gt;And left us with no belongings, not even a hat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strangers awakened Mother and Dad from their sleep&lt;br /&gt;To let them know, they no longer could keep&lt;br /&gt;Staying in that house that was all a flame&lt;br /&gt;With nothing but the storm and lightning to blame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few items saved, but most possessions were lost&lt;br /&gt;Just a few things out the doors were tossed&lt;br /&gt;Days later in the basement area, we found&lt;br /&gt;Bent forks, doll heads...memories abound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life was changed from that moment on&lt;br /&gt;The lovely house with stained glass window was gone&lt;br /&gt;Some memories from my carefree  days&lt;br /&gt;Were lost because of that terrible blaze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the night of August 9, 1933&lt;br /&gt;Quite a change seemed to come over me&lt;br /&gt;I was no longer a little kid all protected and warm&lt;br /&gt;But a more grown up gal, who would have to leave that farm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From that day on, we moved many times&lt;br /&gt;To different type houses, some not so fine&lt;br /&gt;I grew up that day in 1933&lt;br /&gt;When the House South of Homer burned&lt;br /&gt;And life changed for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...by Mary M. Ellis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4793306708719043413-4778778618653792791?l=maryetest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/feeds/4778778618653792791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4793306708719043413&amp;postID=4778778618653792791&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/4778778618653792791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/4778778618653792791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/2008/03/farm-home-destroyed-by-fire.html' title='DESTROYED BY FIRE IN 1933'/><author><name>Mary M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10957775586910455042</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SjRZjd4cPyI/AAAAAAAACJY/5s01WkKoAok/S220/MARYM.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/R9CbMZhgmWI/AAAAAAAABO4/Fe_OugeT1mQ/s72-c/South+of+Homer.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793306708719043413.post-931718591100175798</id><published>2008-02-26T14:06:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:53:15.740-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ONE OF MY OIL PAINTINGS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/R8SOG3LFHOI/AAAAAAAABMQ/TWa4U5GZGnI/s1600-h/Daisy+Field.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/R8SOG3LFHOI/AAAAAAAABMQ/TWa4U5GZGnI/s200/Daisy+Field.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171414520668953826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                                FIELD OF DAISIES&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have painted several paintings similar to the above. One I sold in Florida art show, one at the Town and Country Art Show and I donated one to Vermilion House (where my Mother lived) for Mother's 100th birthday. I had it hung in the Activity Room where they would hold most of their social events.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is an easy painting to live with and goes with most any decor. It was done with a limited palette which is usually very pleasing to the eye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4793306708719043413-931718591100175798?l=maryetest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/feeds/931718591100175798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4793306708719043413&amp;postID=931718591100175798&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/931718591100175798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/931718591100175798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/2008/02/one-of-my-oil-paintings.html' title='ONE OF MY OIL PAINTINGS'/><author><name>Mary M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10957775586910455042</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SjRZjd4cPyI/AAAAAAAACJY/5s01WkKoAok/S220/MARYM.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/R8SOG3LFHOI/AAAAAAAABMQ/TWa4U5GZGnI/s72-c/Daisy+Field.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793306708719043413.post-5433199567527424981</id><published>2008-02-26T13:48:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:53:15.970-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THE ELLIS' 1953</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/R8SJwHLFHMI/AAAAAAAABMA/m3hk6qo0WW0/s1600-h/Ellis%27+1953.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/R8SJwHLFHMI/AAAAAAAABMA/m3hk6qo0WW0/s200/Ellis%27+1953.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171409731780418754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dale and I met in high school in 1939. We married in 1943 in Storrs, Connecticut. He was in service and stationed at Storrs. Moved from there to Camp White Oregon, then to Camp San Luis Obispo, CA. From there he was sent to the Pacific and fought in the Invastion of Okinawa. Returned home in 1946. Our first son, Steve was born 1947, Mark, 1950 and Roger 1953.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4793306708719043413-5433199567527424981?l=maryetest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/feeds/5433199567527424981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4793306708719043413&amp;postID=5433199567527424981&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/5433199567527424981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/5433199567527424981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/2008/02/ellis-1953.html' title='THE ELLIS&apos; 1953'/><author><name>Mary M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10957775586910455042</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SjRZjd4cPyI/AAAAAAAACJY/5s01WkKoAok/S220/MARYM.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/R8SJwHLFHMI/AAAAAAAABMA/m3hk6qo0WW0/s72-c/Ellis%27+1953.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793306708719043413.post-3637594359998387316</id><published>2008-02-26T13:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:53:16.200-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THE ELLIS' 1965</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/R8SIwHLFHLI/AAAAAAAABL4/O7ZYwbelvxI/s1600-h/Ellis%271966.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/R8SIwHLFHLI/AAAAAAAABL4/O7ZYwbelvxI/s200/Ellis%271966.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171408632268790962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;That's Dale and me in back and Roger, Mark and Steve in the front.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a Stay At Home Mom for 14 years.   I belonged to&lt;br /&gt;PTA, Junior Service League, Printing Pressman's Auxiliary, and was a Cub Scout leader for 5 years. During this time I took lessons and started oil painting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;All our boys were interested in baseball and we attended&lt;br /&gt;all their baseball games. In Little League they all played for the Coke team....and as time went on were playing with Babe Ruth and American Legion teams.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4793306708719043413-3637594359998387316?l=maryetest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/feeds/3637594359998387316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4793306708719043413&amp;postID=3637594359998387316&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/3637594359998387316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/3637594359998387316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/2008/02/ellis-1965.html' title='THE ELLIS&apos; 1965'/><author><name>Mary M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10957775586910455042</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SjRZjd4cPyI/AAAAAAAACJY/5s01WkKoAok/S220/MARYM.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/R8SIwHLFHLI/AAAAAAAABL4/O7ZYwbelvxI/s72-c/Ellis%271966.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4793306708719043413.post-61220667255972093</id><published>2008-02-26T13:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:53:16.368-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THE ELLIS' 1979</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/R8SID3LFHKI/AAAAAAAABLw/bs-tJk92Y0c/s1600-h/Dale%27s+78th+Birthday.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/R8SID3LFHKI/AAAAAAAABLw/bs-tJk92Y0c/s200/Dale%27s+78th+Birthday.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171407872059579554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;This is a picture of the Ellis' in 1998. Left to Right...Mark and Joanie, Roger and Kathy and Olivia and Steve with Dale and I in the front row. At this time we were celebrating Dale's 79th Birthday. Mark and Joanie came from Ft. Bragg, CA, Roger and Kathy from here in St. Joseph, IL and Steve and Olivia arrived from Claremont, CA. (They are now living in Nellysford, VA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A number of the Grandchildren were here and we had quite a celebration. Great to have the group so we could celebrate together.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4793306708719043413-61220667255972093?l=maryetest.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/feeds/61220667255972093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4793306708719043413&amp;postID=61220667255972093&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/61220667255972093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4793306708719043413/posts/default/61220667255972093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maryetest.blogspot.com/2008/02/ellis-1979.html' title='THE ELLIS&apos; 1979'/><author><name>Mary M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10957775586910455042</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/SjRZjd4cPyI/AAAAAAAACJY/5s01WkKoAok/S220/MARYM.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MdpMDtFj9xY/R8SID3LFHKI/AAAAAAAABLw/bs-tJk92Y0c/s72-c/Dale%27s+78th+Birthday.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
