Over the years, my family has shared stories about living in the mountains of Idaho in the 1960s, 70s and 80s.
These stories are the ones that often come up in conversations, but have deep meaning to me and have shaped my life. All the people included in these stories, I remember very well and share these stories in kindness and endearment for the influence that they all had on my childhood. The stories all stand on their own, but they are also all intertwined in what is the weaving of my life. I decided to post them on a BLOG so that I could share them with many people who, like me, want to remember what it was like when we lived by candle light, heard rain on the tin roof, waded in frog ponds, had party lines, looked at photographs of paradise in magazines in an outhouse, cross country skied to our homes or to the hot springs, went to bed early because it was so cold and dark, and lived in the mountains.
Thanks for reading my stories.
These stories are the ones that often come up in conversations, but have deep meaning to me and have shaped my life. All the people included in these stories, I remember very well and share these stories in kindness and endearment for the influence that they all had on my childhood. The stories all stand on their own, but they are also all intertwined in what is the weaving of my life. I decided to post them on a BLOG so that I could share them with many people who, like me, want to remember what it was like when we lived by candle light, heard rain on the tin roof, waded in frog ponds, had party lines, looked at photographs of paradise in magazines in an outhouse, cross country skied to our homes or to the hot springs, went to bed early because it was so cold and dark, and lived in the mountains.
Thanks for reading my stories.
