All the leaves are brown...

Alas, our beautiful autumn has reached its peak and is slowly coming to a close. Our weather is still warm, the days are still bright, the sky is still mostly blue, and life is good.

Kerry and I had another delightful week! I love having him home all the time!!! And, I think he likes being here, too. He gets to work on things that have been put on hold for years - things he likes to do.

Sometimes we go on little day trips. Sometimes we stay home. Sometimes we sleep in. Sometimes we're up quite early.

I forgot to mention a very important thing from last week. Erik ran another marathon, completing 26.2 miles in 4 hours 28 minutes! He wasn't real pleased with his time, but I'm floored!!! I would still be trying to get through it a week later. He did a lot of preparation for it, including this:

Yep. That's Erik soaking in an ICE BATH the night before. I don't know about all of this. I didn't teach him to do this - obviously!

And now for breaking news: Kerry has had another book published!!! Yippee for him!!! The publishers accepted another book manuscript and it is now in print! Here's the ordering information: www.publishamerica.com

Save Our Sam: S.O.S. by
K. Peter Lauritzen
ISBN: 978-1-4512-7577-3, 70 Pages, 6 x 9


Buy $24.95 (His second book)



K. Peter Lauritzen: His Story of the United States by
K. Peter Lauritzen
ISBN: 1-4241-2232-5, 297 pages, 6 x 9


Buy $32.95 (His first book)

I am so proud of him! This is another one of his lifelong dreams, and now he has attained it - with even some more in the works...

This past week, sister Fern was in the hospital for a couple of days. Kerry and I drove up to see her, and she was feeling much better than when she was admitted the night before. Sometimes her pain is very bad. On the way back home, Kerry and I stopped at Planktown, a country store where we buy meats, cheeses, grains, etc.

We also enjoyed a wonderful brunch at a small church in Lucas - a very small town close to us. They really treat the communities well as they try to shore people up during tough times.

The temple was very busy this past Friday. Many people from Charleston, WV were there, and they keep us hopping. I was so tired that night I was almost in tears. I prayed mightily, as did Kerry, that my feet and legs would rest up good and I would be free from pain. I woke up the next morning at 8:00 am and felt great!

I cannot get over the comments that I've been receiving concerning my little memory missives! The funny thing is this - the comments are coming from people that see me all the time! I don't think I've heard a single comment (except for s-i-l Marion) from any blood relatives - the ones they're intended for! >:(

Oh, well! Here we go again:

For as long as I can remember, I have played the piano. Music was always part of my home. My dad played records that contained beautiful music all the time. I believe my talent comes through my dad. My poor mom had no rhythm and couldn't really sing very well at all. But that didn't matter - she sang anyway.

Dad could always keep time very well. His dream was to have been a conductor in a symphony - but that wasn't to be. Perhaps if he'd had musical training, he would have enjoyed it even more.

My sisters were/are all musical. But, when they were growing up in the hills of Kentucky and the hollers of West Virginia, mom and dad just didn't have the money for any musical lessons for them. None of them can play any musical instrument at all. But when the four of us sing, we blend perfectly in several harmonies.

My parents got me a little piano for Christmas when I was four years old. That year, I was pounding out "Joy to the World". My mom often said that was the only Christmas music we had that year. Through the years, I learned how to play a few more songs on that little piano. I still have it to this day.

I put Mr. Eddie in the picture with it so you could see the relative size of it. Mr. Eddie weighs 8 lbs. It's not much bigger than him.

I even played for the children's organization at church for several years right after I got that piano. We had our Primary meetings on Saturday mornings, when it was hard to get some of the other adults out to the church. For awhile, all I could really play was "The Golden Plates" - so that's what we sang for a long time.

My dad was a refrigeration/air conditioning repairman, a skill he learned in the Navy and continued on with more training here. One day, he was repairing an appliance for a woman who taught piano lessons in her basement. He listened for awhile, and asked if she took on new students. She said she did.

About that same time, a lady in our ward was selling her piano. She was getting a new one from her mother, who lived in California. They lived in Danville, a town a few miles away from here.

On the night of my birthday in 1963, I heard a vehicle pull into our driveway. I didn't think too much about it, for I thought it was probably one of my sisters dropping by. Or, since dad was bishop, that it might be someone who needed to talk to him. He did stand at the door and talk to someone for a few minutes.

Then, some furniture was moved, and in rolled my birthday present! My best birthday present I've ever received! My "new" piano!!!! At 8 years old, I thought I was the richest girl on the planet.

I played and played and played. And in the fall, I began my lessons. That was a different experience, for I had played by ear for many years. Now, I was going to have to learn to discipline myself to play the notes written on the paper. It was harder than you can imagine.

My piano lessons began at $1 per week. Mom and dad always found that dollar for me. However, after a few years, my teacher had to raise it to $1.25. That was a different story. We didn't know if I could continue or not. But, dad was determined to provide lessons for me. There were a few weeks (probably more than a few) where I paid in coins, after digging through couch cushions, coat pockets, etc. But, we always found it. And, we always found it again when the cost went to $1.50.

I tried to make sure I kept up with my practicing, for I knew how hard it was on mom and dad to pay for those lessons.

That piano "base" led me on to play many more instruments. When I was in marching band, I found it easy to pick up an instrument and begin to play. String instruments were a bit harder for me, but eventually I could play many of them, too. In my mind, I would picture the piano keyboard, then the notes would be clearer to me on another instrument.

How can I ever show my gratitude for mom and dad's sacrifice? By keeping up what they took the time, money and effort to see that I had in my young life. That sacrifice has led me to play for countless weddings, funerals, Christmas gatherings, family gatherings, and years and years of Church meetings.

It also paved the way for each of my own children to enjoy music. While they were at home, they filled our home with music - good music. They had their lessons on my old piano, and the sacrifice was hard for us, too. But, how I loved hearing them play and work out the melody on a song they had never seen before. How I loved seeing them go on to play other instruments. And how I LOVED when we gathered around the piano and sang as a family. Our six voices blended and harmonized, just like with me and my sisters.

My piano is still in my home and is still being used. It's a little rougher for the wear. It has some battle scars. It's a bit out of tune. But oh, how I love that piano - for the joy I had in playing and accomplishing a difficult piece - and for the comfort it brought me in times of sadness.



Till next week!
Miss P

Cozy evenings at home...

Autumn continues to be beautiful here in the Ohio! Though the colors are not quite as resplendent as in years past, they still continue to take my breath away. The muted colors usually happen when there has not been enough rain.

We spent some time getting our house ready for winter this week. Even though the days are warm, they're not always going to be warm. Before we know it, the wind will be howling and it will be cold enough for coats.

But, Tuesday we went to the temple with Fern and Betty. They haven't been able to go for awhile, due to some health concerns either they or their husbands have been battling. We had a nice easy day, followed by dinner at Mimi's - one of our favorite Columbus eateries.

Wednesday was one of our favorite days - another rummage sale!!! Kerry and I LOVE rummage sales! We find all sorts of treasures. I particularly like a used clothing store in Bellville, where you can fill your bag for $2. I've discovered some real finds - items from lots of name-brand companies.

Thursday was a fun day - we drove to Washington Court House to watch JJ play tag football. We LOVED watching these little guys play!!! They were so cute. I also fixed chicken, potato salad, and red velvet cupcakes for everyone's dinner. That saved Melissa (who didn't feel that good anyway) from having to worry about dinner for everyone. I think they liked it, for they didn't turn down the leftovers.

Hike!

Look at him run!

Justin and Jayden

Learning about football from grandpa...

The grandboys went to the pumpkin patch to choose their pumpkins.

We had the most delightful surprise a couple of weeks ago. We received a porcelain replica of the Washington Temple from a company in northern Utah. There was no card with it. I told Kerry he must have ordered it and forgotten it. He told me I must have ordered it and forgotten it. No matter who ordered it - it was beautiful!

We later learned that Miss Harmony was the one who ordered it!!! It now sits in a place of prominence in our living room on our "Kerry and Peggy" table. Behind it is a hand-painted Russian egg that Erik asked a member in Russia to paint for our 27th anniversary. We treasure those items - and anything else that reminds us of our sweet marriage.

I really appreciate all of the comments sent to me about my memory of my dad and the coal mines last week. I suppose I will continue these little additions to my weekly missives.

And now for this week:

My mother was a force to be reckoned with! You just didn't mess with mom - or one of her babies.

One night, she and I were on our way home from church, where I had attended my weekly youth meeting. I needed some notebook paper, and we didn't have Walmarts or anything like that in those days. We did have a little corner grocery store, where one could buy penny candy, shoelaces, etc.

She happened to miss the driveway, but it didn't matter, for the next drive also connected to the little store. There was a bit of a grassy field between the parking lot and the store. I walked through the little field and headed for the front door.

Before reaching the door, there was a wall of decorative concrete block. As I rounded that wall, I happened upon 3-4 teenage boys who were circling around on their bikes. I squared up, went through them, went into the store and bought my paper.

When I came back out, those boys were still there. They were off their bikes, and now they circled around me, calling me names and poking me in the chest. I was mortified, for I was sure they were going to do terrible things to me. I was also sure mom couldn't see me because of the decorative wall.

In the blink of an eye, I heard something akin to a bull crashing through the field and headed toward me. It was my mom! Smoke was coming from her nostrils and her ears, and her boobs were swinging back and forth something fierce with her arms pumping away. (You get the picture!) When those boys turned around to see what it was, they saw the look on her face and knew they were dead meat if they didn't get out of there quick. Mom grew up being the oldest of a family that had SIX BOYS, plus a little sister that died at 3 years old. To mom, taking on these boys were nothing compared to what she had grown up with.

I was never so relieved to see my mom in my whole life. I don't know what those boys would have done. But, as long as my mom was nearby, those boys were close to being ground down into a greasy spot!


Till next week...
Miss P

Please help me I'm fallin'

Oh, it is SO beautiful at this time of year!!! Ohio is a wonderful place to be in autumn. I was doing a bit of driving yesterday, and on each turn it just got prettier and prettier. I was taking pictures all day. No, I won't put them all here.

This was also my mom's favorite time of year. She also dreaded it. Her father and two of her brothers died during autumn within four years. Mom herself died during this time of year.

Nonetheless, I love it.

Kerry and I continue to work at the temple each Friday. It's a smaller temple, not bit like the ones most people associate with in Salt Lake City. But, it still contains all of the important features that a large temple has - and it's still the Lord's house.

Columbus Ohio Temple

After we finished working there Friday, we met up with our Ohio kids to celebrate JJ's 6th birthday!!! He's such a cute little guy. He's thoroughly enjoying school, and can't understand why it has to stop for the weekend. He's also been playing tag football, with his daddy as assistant coach.

JJ and his football uniform.

Getting their picture taken at Chuck E Cheese

The finished product.

A more traditional look.

Those boys of mine.

Erik and his roommate, Oscar. Oscar is a Fulbright scholar from the Phillipines. He will be finishing up his doctorate at the end of the year, and can return to his native land going right into professorship. If he stays here, it will be a few more years before he can attain that status. He has been an excellent example of hard work.

We also had to go to the final fair of the season - the Loudonville Street Fair. I'm telling you, we love small-town America! Of course, we spent a lot of time in the cow tent. Mr. Kerry and his cows!

He always guides me through the tent very carefully, warning me that cows can and do kick backwards. He kept wondering where all of the dairy cows were, for the tent we were in was mostly beef cows. I kept asking him how in the world he could tell, for most of them were laying down. He just knew. I guess you have to look underneath.


Two sheep all wrapped up.

Look how much this pumpkin weighed! I think it was a pumpkin. It wasn't bright orange, so it might have been some other sort of squash.

Amish farmers gather their corn shocks up. On the road we were on, the Amish farmers were everywhere, working their land the old-fashioned way - draft horses and plows. Out of respect for them, I do not take their pictures. They prefer that we don't - it's a graven image.

I've decided to begin adding something new to my little missive. It will mainly be for my own children and grandchildren, but you are still welcome to read it.

I'm going to be adding a memory from my own past that can help to preserve our family's history.

This week, it will be a reflection on those miners who have been trapped below ground in Chile. Each time there is such an incident, my thoughts go back to my father, who was a miner in the coal fields of West Virginia.

He worked in those mines before I was born, but the effect of it never left him. As a matter of fact, it left him with severe claustrophobia for the rest of his life. Once, our little family took dad with us to Columbus to visit COSI (Center of Science and Industry). It's a wonderful, "hands-on" museum that is especially tailored to young people. We would always pack our lunches and eat in the cafeteria in the basement, where they had lockers to store our food.

Dad enjoyed all of the displays. After our lunch, they had replicated a coal mine close by. It even had a canary in a little cage beside the entrance (to tell the miners if gas had built up inside. If the bird was laying dead with its feet up, don't go in the mine.)

As I showed the mine entrance to dad, I asked him if he wanted to go inside. He took a couple of steps, then backed right out. He couldn't do it. He said it was too real.

I'll probably not ever know how hard it was for him to get into those coal cars that would drive the miners 4-5 miles (or more!) deep into the hills of West Virginia. I'll never know the closeness of the ceiling, for they had to tuck their heads down to prevent serious injuries. I'll never know the blackness of being underground for hours. I experienced it once in Mammoth Cave, but in just a few seconds the lights came back on. It was horrible.

I'll never know hard it was for my mom to try to get my dad's black clothes clean, or how good he felt after a bath. That's where one of our common old sayings came from. The father usually bathed first, then the kids. By the time the baby got bathed, the water was usually pitch black. Hence: "Don't throw the baby out with the bathwater".

But, dad did say something interesting. When you went to work, you went with white folks, Indians, blacks, etc. But, when you stepped out after a day's work, you were all the same color.

Bless his heart. And bless the hearts of those miners and their families in Chile. And Pennsylvania. And West Virginia. And Kentucky. And Wales. And Utah. And...

From dad's collection of pictures:

The entrance to the coal mine.

Going to work at the West Virginia coal mine.

Hauling out the coal.

Some of the miners.

A mule and the coal cars.

Dad after a day's work in the coal mines.

The finished product.

I'm grateful dad worked so hard in a job that not many would want. Sister Betty was born in West Virginia when dad worked in those mines. They lived in the coal camps. They had to buy their beans and such at the company store with scrip. The mines really owned you.

Bless his good heart. I miss him.