"Let Us Cross the Bridge and Rest Under the Trees" General "Stonewall" JAckson"

Following the Battle of Chancellorville in which he led his troups around the Union right resulting in victory he was returning to his camp when he was wounded. His left arm was amputated and he died of pneumonia ten days later. General Lee said "He has lost his left arm but I have lost my right arm." The words above were the dying words of General Stonewall Jackson. He was beloved of his soldiers. He was very devote and disliked fighting on Sundays

The Smell of Bacon

Our first pig became kind of a pet. Her name was LaWanna, affectionately named after grandma. She was purchased on a trip back from the coast as a little wiener. Everyone fought over feeding her. As the first piglet she gained a lot of attention. Scraps from the table added to her regular fare. She was in a little coral down below the barn. She would escape with regularity and chase kids around. Everyone knew what would eventually happen. When I see the movie "Babe" and the other animals talk to Babe about the purpose of pigs and that pigs are pork I know exactly what they are talking about. There were many comments from children about how they would never eat LaWanna. Well after nearly a year the fateful day arrived. There was some moaning. I kind of wondered if anyone would ever eat LaWanna. Ann said there was nothing to worry about. Several weeks later on a Saturday morning I awoke to the smell of fresh bacon permeating the little red house. I don't remember much about breakfast. However there were no vegetarians that morning.

Red Haired Teacher Chapter 1 Ernest Tigner

That spring marked my first term in school. We had a school teacher that was something else. She was a nervous wreck. She had very red hair and a temper like no woman or man I have ever seen or heard tell of since. The poor thing was sick. She had to be.

Her favorite way of keeping everybody in line was to take a ruler and slap you on the back of the hand across the knuckles That never happened to me because she had the fear ingrained in me, and so I was a real nice. boy.

But I will never forget one day. There was a young fellow ahead of me, a new boy who had moved in and started attending school. As the teacher came down the aisle, she asked the boy to hand her a pencil. She had a paper or something in her hand and needed a pencil. So the boy handed her a pencil, point first.

She grabbed the pencil, threw it on the floor, grabbed that poor litlle fellow's hand, and started slapping him on the back of his hand with her ruler. Of course the little fellow started crying, and she informed him that she would teach him never to hand a pencil to anyone point first.

That ruler had cut into this boy's hand and the blood started flying. The older children, like my brother and the other boys older than him, saw all this commotion and everybody in shcool was pretty much fed up with what she had been doing.

It happened to be real chilly, windy day in the spring of the year. We all had to go outside in the hallway when it was stormy to eat our lunch. The teacher would shut the door and lock it, so no one would interrupt her rest and lunch hours.

In the corner of the schoolyard was a large pile of rocks that had come to the surface of the ground. A farmer had cleared it and piled it up at one end of the shcoolyard. These boys got together and recruited all of us to pack the rocks over, most of which was about the size of a grapefruit.

We packed a large pile of it and put it on the floor in front of the door. When the boys figured we had enough, they took those rocks and started in on the door...and they pulverized it with those rocks!

The red-haired school teacher was inside screaming. The more she screamed, the more the rocks flew. This may sound kind of cruel, but ... (to be continued)

USS Beca Tina

You will remember the USS Becca Tina that proudly floated on the little pond until its rear end rotted out and it sunk to the bottem. It has been proudly raised from the deep and now sits below the little red house along the road as a flower pot full of tulips. I have a light shining on the name. Ross and Derek helped me put up swings this weekend. Four swings one especially for little kids one huge rope swing, tire swing and then another swing swing. Okay we have plans for other boats. We will soon float the Kaisa Annie, and then the Melida Marie. The Anneli proudly sits in Uncle Lars Driveway

LET'S GET POLITICAL!

You shouldn't judge a man by his demographic. That's right folks, I AM VOTING FOR HILLARY CLINTON.

As follows are the top ten reasons why I am voting for the foxy lady with political prowess.

10. The 5k baby bond is an initiative that I can get behind. Liquid funding for our country's neonates will only spur the economy on to more stable, solid things to come.

9. Her willingness to pull the troops out. I couldn't agree more. The irony that a woman once again will have to clean up a man's mess is humorous but tragic.

8. I like attorneys. They always smell kind of minty with a hint of patchouli.

7. Her haircut lifts my spirits. Even my former flame Martha Stewart can't come close to this level of blond froth. Her cheekbones are perfectly set off by her perfect coif. Ask me what nasty misogynistic world leader couldn't be swayed by this vixen. Well, you can ask me, but I don't know the answer!

6. She stands by her man. He's been fat and thin and has sometimes licked the platter, but she still listens when Bill talks about initiatives local and global.

5. She sent her daughter to Pac 10 school. The wind coming off of the Japanese current blows liberally on the West coast giving us better fish and schools. Of course, Hillary did have special access to NAOA files, but I think this is why we haven't had any of those annoying hurricanes. And if we did, we'd get out because of our large trucks.

4. Universal healthcare. Have you seen the price of Band-Aids at Wal-Mart? They're pretty cheap but what happens if you slice your finger off instead of just slam it in the door? Why is the richest county in the world also the nation that doesn't help its poor? Let us not forget that it wasn't the drag queens that brought down Sodom and Gommorah.

3. Apologies are not an option. She may crash your car, vomit on your tire and then remember that she shouldn't have had the prawn martini, but she isn't going to tell you that she is sorry for doing so. She'll suggest a nicer car with better crumple zones and give you some helpful dealers to call when shopping for a new Volvo.

2. Hillary RODHAM Clinton/Ann ROSS Olsen.

1. It's a TWOFER. With Hillary comes Bill. I haven't stopped believin'. Have you?

Back from Vacation

Hello everyone, sorry it has been so long since I posted. Here is the deal.
I was on a long surprise vacation. There were no computers where I was so I could not post. Thanks for all the concern, everything is just fine. I am tanned fit and raring to go with a new granddaughter to boot. Eric

Candyland chapter 3 "A Pleasant Surprise"

The faint path edged slowly down the side of the mountain. Small streams tumbled here and there, down the side of the mountain cutting across the path. Larry would carefully jump over or wade through the streams. Along each stream, there would be a small path that would wind along the side of each ribbon of water up the mountain. Sometimes he could see small caves from which the streams would emerge. What did this all mean, Larry thought.

As he descended he began to walk among small then larger trees. What had been little rivlets became larger streams, which finally became roaring streams. The path became a little wider. It obviously had seen use, but there were no footprints or tracks of any sort. After several hours of walking Larry sat down next to a larger stream. The path now followed the side of this larger stream. There were lots of trees now, wide meadows and the slope became more gentle as he neared the valley floor. It was warm. If there would have been a sun, Larry thought, it surely would be afternoon. He had been walking now for many hours, first down the long tunnel and then down the side of the mountain. He was exhausted. He laid down on some soft grass and was soon fast asleep.

He slept for he knew not how long. When he awoke the light was still bright and the air warm. He had had nothing to eat since the night before. He was thirsty. Despite being near water the entire trip, he had never stopped to drink. He took several steps down to the edge of the stream and cupped his hand to take up a drink of the pure water. He began to drink. Immediately he threw his hand down. This was no water! It was sweet! As sweet as any drink he had before. It had the distinct taste of sweet lemonade. He wetted his hand again and licked the moisture off to be sure. He was not mistaken. It was deliciously sweet. He cupped his hand and satisfied his thirst with the sweet liquid.

Lining the stream bed were colored rocks of different sizes and shapes. They were everywhere. He had seen nothing like it before. He picked up a particularly beautiful one. It looked good enough to eat, he thought. It was nothing but a rock, nevertheless he just popped it in his mouth. Again he was shocked. This "rock" tasted like sugar, yet different. He began to lick it and slowly it dissolved like a sucker. This rock was rock candy. Where am I, he exclaimed out loud. A small piece of driftwood lay by the side of the stream. He carefully tasted it. Sure enough, it too was candy, chocolate like, to be exact. He reached up and grabbed a leaf from the nearest tree. Again it was sweet candy. Everywhere he looked he picked up this thing or that. Everything was candy. Even the very soil. I am in a place where everything is candy, he thought.

His worries about something to eat dissapeared, as he ate candy leaves and grass, he peeled bark from the tree which tasted like chocolate. Small twigs were tasty sweet morsals. Ice cold lemonade from the stream.

All of a sudden he saw movement. He quickly turned his head. He could not believe what he had just seen. It quickly dissappeared behind a tree and dropped from view. He rubbed his eyes in disbelief.

Kaisa's Memories of Fishing Trips or Writing Lyrics from Boat Cushions

It seems eight lifetimes ago that I wrestled myself out of bed to tumble into the backseat of the truck or car where everything would still be grey with twilight.

Every trip would commence with a stop by Dunkin' Donuts - or at least the fresh water trips before we upgraded to the ocean. Everytime I wanted the same thing, a strawberry jelly or a vanilla cream filled. I occasionally brave the transfat demons and try one when I go back to Salem, but they never taste the same.

In the very early days, I would also get a hot chocolate heated to the approximate temperatures it takes to heat the fires of Vulcan. Even though I would try to be prudent, I would always end up scalding my tongue to the point where everything I ate for the next 24 hours would taste slightly citrus.

And because I was with Dad, this would be a whole lot of candy.

Scott was usually huddled in the corner in a quilted green coat, ripe for either cuddling or harrassing, depending on my mood. The a.m. was usually reserved for cuddling. We would sometimes share a seatbelt (if we wore one at all) as the car wound its way on mountain curves towards whatever lake we were going. Although it was cold and it was going to be horribly cold wherever we ended up, for the moment, in the car, everything was pleasantly close and warm. There was never a trip where my Dad wouldn't blast the heat. To this day I still hold a disproportionate amount of fondness for any man who will turn the heat to high. It's much rarer than I could have guessed at that time, when I was young and beautiful and planning to be a famous writer/model/actress.

When we finally got out on the lake after enduring the stretched time from the unloading of the supplies to the launch on to the water, two things would become quickly apparent. 1) It was freezing and 2) it was really quiet. Both were natural enemies to young Olsen children.

There was a Oliver Cromwell style kerosene space heater in the boat that was either dead or scalding. No sinful temperance for that thing. To receive heat you must be baptized by fire, and this was the objective of the dangerous thing. Scott and I would hold our denim encased legs close to its grated front as long as we could stand it, and then pull away, shreiking. After about three minutes our smoldering jeans would cool to a pleasant warmness that lasted about two seconds until we had to start the whole thing again.

This activity was usually accompanied by our enthusiastic if somewhat eccentric singing. Everything in our view was subject to verse, from our father telling us to be quiet to the ever present danger of losing your bait and hook in the swampy bottomless seaweed.

Our favorite for a good while however was a simple chant named "Gale Force Warning". For the record, the lyrics go "Gale Force Warning (repeat three times)/Storm Force Warning (repeat three times)/ and finally (with feeling) HURRICANE WARNING!!! WHOOOOOOOO!!!"

It wasn't until I had children of my own that I even knew my Dad was listening. It was a creative and motivating song, but I must confess I stole the lyrics from the floation cushion that had probably been purchased long before I told Scott too much thumb sucking affected his ability to divest milk duds of their chocolate coating. (Which therefore meant he had to give them to me to get the chocolate off so he could have the much easier to digest caramel portion and not suffer any gastronomical discomfort.)

These were good times, and unlike a lot happy things that zip past before you have time to get used to them, I knew they were as they surrounded me. At the end of every fishing trip, right after my Dad slit open the bellies of the unfortunate fish to show me what they had been eating, a spongey feeling of melancholy overcame my soul. The wind of late afternoon shaking the branches of the lazy maples seemed to predict an unavoidable fate where life didn't permit such pleasant freefall, and it was coming soon.

Its not easy being Old by yours truly and the frogs outside my window

Its not easy being old.
having to spend each day without a fishing partner,
When I think it could be nicer with lots of little fishing partners,
or some older grandkids.

Its not easy being old.
It seems you blend in with so many other oldies.
And people tend to pass you over' cause you're
not with a bunch of little fishing partners.

But Old can be nice in other ways.
Old can be wise and friendly like.
And old can be vast like the ocean, or important like a mountain,
or beautiful like a tree.

When old is all there is to be,
It could make you wonder why, but why wonder why?
Wonder, I am old and I'll do fine, Its beautiful!
And I think its what I want to be. Maybe.
Naw, I just want a fishing partner.

Thank you kermit and my little frog friends outside my window for helping me cope- Eric

Wanted: Fishing Partner

I am depressed. I hate Pizza Hut. My fishing partner now works five days a week from 5-9 at Pizza Hut. This is a real damper on my fishing. It is beautiful outside. I don't like to go by myself. All my grandkids are too little or they live in LA. My wife hates to fish. Now I don't mind fishing with strangers but its not the same. I just want one more day with Kaisa and Scott huddled in the bow singing "gale force." boo hoo, boo hoo. Well now I am just going to curl up in a ball and read "Old Man and the Sea" and then plant some stupid trees.

Candyland chapter 2 The Long Descent

Now a lot of boys would have just sat down and cried. I would have. But Larry was very brave. After several minutes he began to see clearer in the dark. The light glistened on what looked like very old steps that led down into the ground. The steps were small as steps go and water trickled down off the side of the tunnel walls and flowed down either side of the steps. Larry did the only thing he could do. He started descending the steps one by one.

The tunnel curved here and there but always led downward, deeper into the ground. Sometimes the water flowing next to the steps, would slip into some crack and disappear only for new rivulets to form as he descended deeper. The only constant was the soft light that drifted up from below. After what seemed like hours of descending Larry thought that the light might be getting brighter. The rivulets became a small stream that spilled out onto the steps in places. He had to be very careful not to fall as the steps became very slippery.

The light definitely became brighter and Larry in the far distance saw a bright light shining from deep below. How strange, he wondered, that this light had traveled so far, as he looked over his shoulder from where he had come. As he climbed down, the stairs now became the center of a tumbling stream.

He could not help but get wet. He braced his hands on the sides of the tunnel and headed for the light. Finally he came out to sight of amazement. The stream exited what looked like the side of a mountain from which he had just emerged and a few feet later became a waterfall falling several hundred feet below. On the right side a few stones were carefully placed that led to a rock ledge upon which Larry
stepped.

He was on the side of what appeared to be a huge mountain that went in both directions. Above him, not too far, he could see snow as the mountain climbed up until it was hidden in clouds.Below him lay a valley with hills, trees and fields. In the distance he saw other mountains, rivers and lakes. In the distance he could see mountains all around that went up to what looked like sky. There were white clouds here and there, but try as he could, he could see no sun. "Where am I," he thought. "I am deep under the ground and it is like another world." The colors were bright. He could see what looked like fields of flowers far below. Then he noticed it. Leading from the ledge upon which he stood, there was faint path that again led down, along the side of the mountain. Larry looked carefully for any footprints but there were none to be seen. But it was a footpath and it led down. Again, the very brave boy began his descent, but this time on the side of a mountain, to some unknown valley and whatever else lay below.

Candyland especially for my granddaughters in Los Angeles

When your sweet mother was five years old I would take her to Montesorri school in Salem. We would sit out in the car and I would tell her a Candyland story. Sometimes a Sammy squirrel story. They are very happy memories

Chapter One: A knock at the window

Many years ago, around 1930, there was a little boy that lived in the little Red House. His name was Larry. Larry was eleven years old. He slept in the little room on the southeast side of the house. This is the exact same room that Katia and Liam slept in.

It was late in August. The plum harvest would begin in a few days. Larry helped his father stack wood, preparing for the plum harvest. His father would tend the furnance for the prune dryer, a big red barn along the little creek below the red house. The creek was low and it was a warm night. Late that night, after his mom and dad had gone to sleep, Larry heard a light tapping on his window. He thought it was just a branch touching the glass. However it was quiet and there was no wind. The tapping came back. Now a little louder, "tap tap tap." He sat up and ran to the window. He looked out over the side of the hill and saw a little man scampering across the road towards the creek below. This was no ordinary man, he was very tiny. In the bright moonlight he saw the little man cross the creek near the bridge. A small door opened out of the ground on the side of the creek next to the bridge. The door was tiny and the little man stooped to step in. Before he stepped in, he turned slowly around and looked straight back at Larry. He waved with his hand. He was not waving goodbye, but waiving for Larry to come.

Larry was very curious. What had he just seen? He quickly pulled on his pants and shirt and slipped on his shoes. He tiptoed out of the house and ran down the hill to the exact spot next to the bridge where the little door was. (I can show you the exact spot.) Larry looked carefully, there was no door to be seen. He crawled down over the bank to the waters edge and felt with his hands all along the ground but all there was only dirt,stones, moss and ferns. Larry said to himself, "maybe I was dreaming." He crawled up and began to walk back home when he heard a sound. "creeeek" He turned around and saw a sliver of light coming from the side of the creek. Slowly before his eyes a little door opened right out of the ground! Larry went back. Sure enough there was a door with hinges and a small iron handle where none had been before. It layed flat against the ground wide open. He slowly crouched down and stepped inside. A soft light came from far down below, what appeared to be a long tunnel. He eased down narrow stone steps when all of sudden the door quietly, without warning shut behind him. He was alone and now a little scared.

Except for the soft light from down below, he was in the dark. The steps led nowhere but down. He turned around and felt for the door to the outside. It was there but the handle would not move. He banged on it and tried to open it, but it was closed tight. "What do I do now?," Larry thought as he gazed down the stairs in the soft light. to be continued

Little Red House = Haunted House

by popular demand the true story of the haunted little red house

What does Napoleon Dynamite and the Little Red House have in common? Well before Jonathan Heder became famous, he worked on haunted houses. Yes the Little Red House was a Halloween Haunted house around 1990-91. It was a creation of the Heder brothers. It contained a coffin from which emerged a scary body. There was an axe murderer and mad surgeon. There was even a trap door up stairs which sprung open to terrify whoever was in the house. There was blood, spooks and other very scary things. The kids in church had a great time. However there was a problem.

One boy that went through the little red house walked out the door and was never seen from again. I remember he was really scared. He ran outside screaming to the top of his lungs. He headed up the hill and disappeared in the woods behind the house. We all thought he was teasing. He never came back however. We searched all the next day and he never showed up. Some people think he just used the haunted house as an excuse to run away. I know different however, even now sometimes at night I hear screaming from the woods behind the house. I know he is still there, lost, driven mad by the Little Red House, waiting for some poor unsuspecting child that might wander into the deep dark woods up the hill.

To this day there are still people that will not set foot inside the Little Red House because they are still scared of it.

p.s. Everything about the little boy I made up- maybe, however everything else is for sure the truth. And you know what they say once a haunted house always a haunted house. Be careful Shannon and Ross wooooooooooooo

Illegal Immigration

When I was in the 10th grade I read The Merchant of Venice. I memorized one stanza. It best reflects my opinion on how to solve this problem.

The quality of mercy is not strained
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blessed:
It blesses him that gives and him that takes
Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better then his crown.
His scepter shows the force of temporal power
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings.
But mercy is above this sceptered sway;
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings;
It is an atribute of God himself;
And earthly power doth then show like God's
When mercy seasons justice.

Mexico

In 2000 when Scott, Derek and I were driving up out of Villehermosa on the east coast of Mexico to Mexico City we played "Who wants to be a millionaire?" The elevation change was from sea level to over 10,000 feet. Derek was just about ready to win a million dollars when all of a sudden I noticed the temperature gauge on the 1996 Dodge Diesel pegged to the high end. In Mexico on many highways there are small, what looks like wishing wells on the side of the road full of water with buckets nearby. I looked up and right in front of me was a well. I immediately pulled over. I thought for sure that the engine was toast. I opened the hood and steam or what was left of any water poured from the engine compartment. I had no sooner pulled over and a 1970's sedan pulled right over. Out jumped three big Mexicans. Oh great, I thought, we are getting robbed too. They ran right past me to the well one of them carrying a bucket from their car and the two others grabbing buckets from the well. They immediately began throwing water on the engine like a bunch of whirling dervishes.

I am really not sure if that is the way to deal with an overheated engine but they sure acted like they knew what they were doing. They threw so much water that a small stream emerged from underneath the truck flowing down the mountain. Before long they cooled the engine. They opened the radiator cap and filled up the radiator. Thankfully the engine was just fine. I offered them some pesos and they vehemently declined and left with my strong Gracia's. Personally I love Mexicans.

First Words

I will admit I am very excited about having Ross close by. I didn't get to do as much with just the two of us when he was little as I would have liked. Maybe we'll have more of those chances now.

When you have a child it is always fun to remember first words. When we adopted Ross he was very careful not to say anything at all. We stayed in a little apartment in Guatemala City while the paper work was being processed. He was the epitomy of silence. Try as we could we could get nothing to part from his lips. Ross' attempts at learning english was a delight but for now I will discuss his first words. Ross was close to 4 so he could talk. I had a little picture book I would read to him in Spanish and point and ask him what animals they were. He was careful, very careful to never respond. However he eventually slipped up and out came "gato" or cat. He quickly placed his hands over his lips at the idea of being caught. The second word was when he climbed into a cold shower and exclaimed with Latin exuberance, "Ai, Yi Yi," when the shock of the cold water hit. Later he poked his had out of the door when a thunderstorm drifted over and distinctly said "Mama Mia," to the clap of thunder.

We were walking down the street with Annelisa and Ross was right behind us. I heard him very softly but distinctly say, "Mama y Papa, y Bebe y Gilberto, somos familia" which translated says Mom and Dad and baby and Gilberto (his name) we are a family. Finally the last day, I took Ross to a Doctors appointment. Well the doctor brought me into a room while the nurse took Ross into another room, mind you Ross was still not speaking. The Doctor was rattling off to me in Spanish and I understood one tenth of what he said. After a few minutes Ross comes running back into the room screaming to the top of his lungs, "Papa, Papa, Papa" and climbs on my lap wanting to be rescued from that scary nurse. After that he talked. More Rossisms another day.

"Rocks" Olsen

It took years before the driveway was paved. When Annelisa was around 6 years old I remember seeing her running full speed up the driveway on some very sharp rocks. Now I have walked barefoot on rocks before, but it was always a careful crawl. "Annelisa," I shouted, "How can you run on those sharp rocks?" I imagined blood on those tender tootsies. Instead she matter of factly said, " Gee Dad, my middle name is "Rocks.""

Uncle Ross you still haven't told me if you would sit next to me, I really want to be your friend- well anyone else nice sit next to me?

"Listen, we have to break this door open or we're going to drown" from the Journel of Ernest Robert TIgner

In the summer of 1911 (grandpa was 11 years old) we had a huge crop of corn and wheat. It had been exceptionally warm. All of us except for Dad had retired for the night. My dad was studying and reading the Bible. He stepped outside for a few minutes. As he opened the back door, he new something was not right. The air was just like a vacuum. Over to the southwest he saw large black clouds rolling towards our home.

He got us up and we went down in the cellar. The cellar had two doors that sloped up. You would swing one back one direction and one the other direction then step down the steps into the cellar where we stored food. We got down in the cellar and the storm hit. We could hear the wind howling and the rain with it, as we huddled in the cellar. We had beaten a path to the cellar from the house getting food and pretty soon water started coming down that path right under the steps into the cellar.

I began to get excited when the water got up around our ankles and then up to our knees. We knew if the water kept getting higher we would have to get out of there. Suddenly the wind broke off a fork of the elm tree above the cellar and it came right down over the door. That created some excitement. Dad went over to raise the cellar door but could not budge it.

We had a lantern. Dad got his shoulders under the door and hollered for Elmer and me to help him. All three of us were on the step and water was getting waist high by then. "Now listen to me, back up, back up." We crowded together, "Listen, we have to break this door open and get out of here, or we're going to drown." If anybody ever hunched over and lifted, we did. We broke out and got back into the house. Debris and shingles were lying all over the place, a tornado had just missed the house!

The tornado took our orchard, trees and all, right out by the roots. Over in the pasture,where the walnut and oat trees were, the tornado cut a swath right through the grove. Every tree in that grove was twisted off about three or four feet from the stump just like you would twist off a small twig with your finger. The whirling wind picked up the trees carried them out, dropped them here and there, all over the pasture. What a terrible thing to see!

The rain and wind flattened our cornfield like a pancake. The ears were just about ready to form with kernals on them and it flattened all of them. My brother and I rowed all over the cornfield the next day in our rowboat. When the water came down, what a sorry sight that place was. Dad had always wanted to live in Kansas. he thought it was ideal country. After the tornado, he did not feel so good about Kansas.

Eric's note: Great grandpa and grandma left Kansas soon thereafter for eastern Washington. Good thing because that is where grandpa Tigner met Mae Louise Nugent in just a few years, quite a romantic story but that will be for another day.

Gone bear hunting see you in a few days

"Can Eric come out and play?" or "Be careful when you give art"

Take a good look at this painting. It was painted by my great aunt Laura Jackson and it has the date 1927 on it. It was given to my folks as a present several years after they were married by Aunt Laura probably around 1950. She was my father's older half sister. Here is the story.

Mom did not like the painting. It was relegated to the closet. When I was five years old (1956) we lived on Hilyard Street in Eugene. My best friend was Jimmy. Jimmy knocked on the front door. "hello Mrs. Olsen can Eric come out and play?" Mom replied, "I'm sorry Jimmy, Eric is just sitting down to dinner." Jimmy, "Boy Mrs. Olsen, that sure smells good." Well Mom invited Jimmy to sit down for dinner at our dining table with the family and Aunt Laura who had arrived that afternoon for a visit. Jimmy, "Wow Mrs. Olsen I sure like that new painting." Jimmy said pointing to Aunt Laura's painting that had been pulled from the closet that am and placed above the dining room table in the alcove. "Oh Jimmy." mom choked, "that painting isn't new that's always been there." "Oh no, Mrs. Olsen, I'm sure, that painting is new, I've never seen that here before." Mom and Dad immediately shouted him down and changed the subject. Well as soon as we were done eating, Mom quickly told us why don't don't we go outside and play. As we left Jimmy says "I sure like that new painting Mrs. Olsen." My mom always wondered why a five year old would take such an interest in art and at that most inoportune time. She always laughed about Jimmy and how she just couldn't get him to keep quiet. Whenever I asked her what Aunt Laura said, mom would shake her head and just laugh.

P.S. This watercolor hangs in the landing at the beach house in Gleneden Beach. When I got older I told mom that I thought it was quite beautiful.(I still do) It depicts a moonlit scene with a stream, swans (geese perhaps?) a bridge and cottages with light coming out of the windows. It is painted in soft blue and gray tones. I guess because I liked it I ended up with it.

"I had a dog!" from the life story of Ernest Robert Tigner, my maternal grandfather

When we got out of Wenatchee twenty or thirty miles to the little town of Trinidad, (NE Washington) we pulled into a vacant lot and were eating our lunch. (grandpa was eight years old and they were moving by horse and wagon, around 1908) A dog came over and I , of course, started throwing him tidbits of our lunch . The dog became very friendly and so I begged my dad to buy me that dog.

He was a good-sized bulldog. He was not a purebred, but he was a beautiful brown and white dog. Dad looked the dog over and said, "That's a pretty nice dog, but that dog ain't for sale." We got ready to leave and the dog started back to the thouse where he came from. Then my dad said, "Welll, go on over there to the house and ask the folks if they want to sell the dog."

I took off with that dog and went over to the house and knocked on the back door. A lady came to the door, and I told her that we were moving to north of Spokane, out in timber country, and we did not have a dog. I asked her if she would sell that dog.

Then she started crying. That confused me quite a bit, and finally she wiped her eyses and said, "Sonny, if you want the dog, the dog is yours, " She continued, "I had a boy just about your age who passed away two months ago, and that dog has never been the same. They were constant pals." She told me, "You take the dog, because I know you will take good care of him." Boy did I take off. I had a dog!"

Departure from the Norm: Do Wive's really know their Husbands?

I'm going to answer Eric's tag, and let's see how well I really do know him. I thought this might be fun to get some of "momma's input". He can correct the ones I am wrong about, or elucidate further...

#1 Three Things I can't do:

-Keep track of a cell phone
-Close Cupboard Doors
-Massage Ann's feet more than 1 minute

#2 Three Things I think you should listen to:

-Your father's excellent advise
-The prophet Eric yes but actually Sacrament meeting every sunday whether you want to be there or not
-Your conscience

#3 Three Things Not to Listen to:

-Satan
-Negative Thoughts
-Asking yourself "what if?", or second guessing yourself. Once you make a decision, stick with it, until or unless it is proven manifestly wrong Eric Yes: almost there but I would tweak this a little bit. If you have a big problem and it consumes you. Think it out, come to a conclusion. Imagine the worse thing that can happen and think it through. When you are done figure out a solution or how to deal with it. Make a decision that is sound and you are at peace with. Then later that night or the next day or whenever you start to obsess about the problem again, remember that you have thought it out and come to an answer. Concentrate on that answer and resist the impulse to rehash what you have already resolved.

#4 Three Things I'd like to learn

-How to sail a large round-the-world blue-water sailboat
-How to sing like Pavarotti
-How to never get another ticket/fender bender Eric: not on my list I would add as number 1 here "whats in the sealed plates- easily number one"

#5 Three Things I watched as a kid

-The Fugitive Eric: nope "The Wizard of Oz" eagerily anticipated every December, this was before VCR's we got to see it once a year my all time favorite movie growing up I have every line memorized to this day.
-Leave it to Beaver Eric: nope "Captain Kangaroo" everyday got up early to watch him
-Sargent Bilko (sp?) I love Phil Silvers

#6 Three Things I regret

-For being so inpatient
-Not taking my girls fishing and hunting (got to some with Kaisa, not so much with the other girls)
-Not buying more property 20 years ago Eric: nope, I would have given more compliments to my kids growing up but am trying to change that

#7 Three Things that scare me

-Rats Eric: yeserree
-Scary Movies
-Sad things that can happen to my kids

#8 Three people who make me laugh

-Steve Martin
-That funny guy on the radio Scott got me into Eric: yup that would be Phil Hendrie
-All my family while Playing UNO with them Eric: more particularly Ross!

#9 Three things I love

- My family
-The Gospel
-The Book of Mormon Eric: yes but Moroni in particular
-Trees (and all plant life)
-My Geese

(Sorry, more than 3, but he loves all these so much, I had to put all them in! Could actually come up with so many more!)

#10 Three Things I hate

-Arrogant people
-People who stop their cars to allow people in while driving Eric: yes they think they are being courteous but what about the line of traffic behind and all the people there that are late. They are being courteous at someone else's expense. Now if it was Ann wanting to get in or one of you that would be an exception.
-when people drive on my newly planted lawn or plants Eric: I would tie this with scaring the geese away that on the fields

#11 Three things on my Desk

-My Book of Mormon
-A picture of Paige
-A pile of books a mile high

#12 Three things I'm doing right now

-Watching "Charlotte's Web" to see Aerlind's name and get ideas for my barn Eric Yes: I saw it Aerlind Flynn Janzen producer baby
-Scrolling through ebay, looking for historical relics and buys
-Eating popcorn, red licorice, and drinking either Tab or Coke Zero.


There, I've done my bit for blogging. Love reading everyone's blogs, they are so enjoyable! Had to do a little bit myself, thought this would be fun. Love to all family reading Dad's blog, and wonder how close I actually got to some of his 3 top things? It'll be fun to find out!

The Unprofitable Servant

Luke 17:5 "And the apostles said unto the Lord, Increase our faith...6. But which of you having a servant, plowing or feeding cattle, will say unto him by and by, when he is come from the field, Go and sit down to meat? 8. And will not rather say unto him, Make ready wherewith I may sup, and gird theyself, and serve me, till I have eaten and drunken; and afterward thou shalt eat and drink? 9. Doth he thank that servant because he did the things that were commanded him? I trow not. 10. So likewise ye, when ye shall have done all those things which are commanded you, say, We are unprofitable servants, we have done that which was our duty to do."

I love these verses. I have wondered if the parable that the Savior next shared, was meant for the apostles not then, but for years later, when they would be all alone. All the apostles met a martyrs fate. I can see a discouraged Peter or James or any of the other twelve sitting by a fire on a lonely Roman road. As the embers dimmed he would remember what must have seemed like long ago when he heard the Savior say these words,

"But which of you, having a servant, plowing or feeding cattle will say unto him by and by, when he is come from the field, Go and sit down to meat?"

He would remember all that the Savior had done, "plowing and feeding cattle," planting gospel seeds, establishing the church and blessing peoples lives. He would remember the close of the Saviors ministry- did he rest? No, "make ready wherewith I may sup and gird thyself and serve me..." He would remember how the Master Servant knelt before him, washed his feet at the final supper and broke bread at the last supper. Tears would roll down the apostle's cheek as he remembered the night of suffering by the Servant of all mankind at Gethsemene and the cross on Golgotha, "which suffering caused myself, even God, the greatest of all, to tremble because of pain , and to bleed at every pore, and to suffer both body and spirit- and would that I might not drink the bitter cup, and shrink-

Again he would remember the words spoken long ago,"9. Doth he thank that servant because he did the things that were commanded him? I trow not. 10. So likewise ye, when ye shall have done all those things which are commanded you, say, We are unprofitable servants: we have done that which was our duty to do."

When men hire employees or "servants" it is to make a profit. No one wants to be an "unprofitable servant." But the Savior wanted the apostles and us to remember his atonement. When we make the atonement part of our life our faith will increase. There is no service that we can render, no work we can do, that will ever compensate for Christ's atonement on our behalf individually and collectively. Thus we are all "unprofitable servants" in a positive way.

King Bengamin said, " I say, if ye should serve him with all your whole souls yet ye would be unprofitables servants. And behold, all that he requres of you is to keep his commandments...therefore, if ye do keep his commandments he doth bless you and prosper you."

Have a great week! Don't trip on a conker Eric

This is for Shannon, sorry its a little long- The Little Red House- Craftsman Style House

There was a time in my life when I was quite into house styles. Ann and I very carefully studied our home and it is built quite accurately as a Georgian Home from the 1700's. My office which was built in 1886 is an Italianate, a victorian style. Certain style homes were built during specific periods of time. You are all probably familiar with "ranch style" homes which were popular during the 50's and 60's. Then there are homes that have no particular style. Its hard to peg new homes today. Not that they aren't great but the styles seem to get mixed up.



Anyway the Little Red House is what is called a "craftsman" style home. This style was popular in the early 1900's. Craftsman style homes were built of natural materials native to the area. Thus The little red house is sided with fir shingles. The eaves are wide. (this is the area where the roof overhangs the house) It has what are called knee braces on the roof line which are designed to look like a beam protruding from the roof. They serve no structural purpose but are a classic design feature of a craftsman style home. Craftsman homes have large porches. (we added a porch in the front several years ago) Double hung windows are common. The design is simple. The little red house was built as the caretakers cottage for the barn which was a prune dryer. A caretaker was necessary to man the wood fired dryer to dry the plums. The caretaker that live here was "Willy." Kind of like "Billy." There are not too many barns with a huge chimney. The red house was built when the barn was built around 1920. At one time Salem was the "Prune Capital" of the world. There are not too many of these old prune barns left which used to number in the hundreds around Salem. Ours is one of the best preserved. The workers would write their names and the years they worked above the dryer doors that are still there. Mrs. Vaughn who passed away last year, has her initials with her first boyfriend when she was 12 years old with a heart around. The Little Red House is also a haunted house (a nice haunted) but that is a blog for another day.





Projects for the summer are to remove the old dormer that we added when we moved into the house in 1986. Remove the old porch on the east side.(overlooking the garden) Reroof the house with wood shakes. I just planted a white climbing rose to crawl up the south side of the house. When it is done it will look like a little gingerbread house. The inside is like new.





Last year we cleaned out all the brush and cut down ugly trees around the house opening everything up. Derek and I brought in several tons or rock and built a raised wall around the south and east side to make the lawn level and surrounded it with minature roses to flow down over the stone wall and flowering strawberries. Yes Billy helped too. We used the tractor to bring in loads of great topsoil from our soil quarry down by the creek, in the forest close to Mrs. Vaughns. There is a bend in the creek hidden by the trees where we can get great loam.

Derek and I planted Prickly pear cactus on the bank along the road. It gets very hot and dry on that south facing bank and the cactus should do great. I have a variety of prickly pear cactus that would overrun the Willamette Valley if given a chance!





The big project this summer is to cap the drain pipes on the little pond the red house looks over and let the water drain over the top. In other words, turn it into a waterfall. I am very excited about this. When it is done, when you come around the corner you will see a nearly ten foot waterfall pouring from the pond into the creek. It will look very natural. The red house is really built on a beautiful spot the front overlooking the big pond and the geese, the east side the creek, garden and barn, the west side the hillside with the horses and trees and the back with the little pond and soon to be waterfall. Billy is seriously lobbying me to tear it down and build a hobbit hole there, but I don't think so.

"Kaisa's Jewels" by Sigrid

The biggest joy mom had during her last years were Scott & Kaisa. There was a gift store off of Commercial where they sold marked down costume jewelry and other children's toys.(for her grandkids) Mom would say she had to go in and check on what they had out periodically. But the way mom said it was typical of her delightful way of speaking. She would say "I have to go in and see about Kaisa's Jewels." She wanted to make sure that Kaisa had enough jewels, ha ha.

Red Horse chestnuts Obly, obly-onker

Obly, obly-onker
My best conker
Obly, obly O,
My best go.


I love Red Horsechestnut trees. I remember seeing them on the capital grounds when I was a boy. They have the most bright red blooms in the spring which you will get to see pretty soon. The nuts or "conkers" are spectacular. They are smooth and shiny and look like brown little agate or marble stones polished in a tumbling brook. Thus children in Great Britain would gather the shiny "conkers" and play a kind of marbles on a string and recite the little chant above before giving their best shot.

Anyway last fall I gathered some lovely Red Horsechestnut conkers from a tree I planted years ago and layered them in soil over the winter. I carefully dug them up a few weeks ago and to my delight they were all spliting open sending new little shoots. I gave Nate, Annelisa's friend a couple of conkers to take to his dad in Colorado last Thanksgiving. We will see how good an arborist he is or if he should stick to back surgery. This is one of the Red Horsechestnut trees starting to sprout. I have about a dozen or so. I will carefully raise them this year and plant them out next year or perhaps this fall. Can you imagine swinging in a grove of blooming Red Horsechestnuts? Wow!

"They Must Use Cascade"

This last weekend I found myself doing an unusual amount of dishes. Compared to many that is probably not a lot, but for me I found myself using the dishwasher maybe 3-4 times over a two day period. Usually its once a week. I reached under the sink and grabbed a bottle of "Cascade." If you don't know, Cascade dish detergent has been around awhile.

My mother Pearl Marie passed away early in life from lymphoma a type of cancer. She was 54. The only grandchild she really knew was Kaisa. Scott was three and Rebecca was just a newborn when she passed away. Mother loved Kaisa dearly. Kaisa was a great joy to my mother in her illness. Oh how she would have loved to have seen all her grandchildren and great grandchildren- you have no idea.

One weekend Kaisa was staying with Mom at the coast. Kaisa was always precocious. Mother and Kaisa were sitting at a nice restaurant in Lincoln City for lunch. Mom was with a friend and Kaisa as her "pal." Kaisa was probably all of four years old. Mother held up a piece of silverware and commented how bright and shiny it was. Mom said Kaisa then held up a fork examined it closely and said, "yes grandma, they must use Cascade." Mom would always chuckle when she told this story. Whenever I use Cascade I can see my little girl holding that fork up and spying it carefully. Whenever I buy dishwashing soap it is always Cascade.

The Missing Shingle, or Rescuing Rebecca

I will never forget the phone call years ago. I was at work. Mom was apparently gone. Becky called me "Daddee pleaze come home quick. The Piggee is trying to eat us daddee, the piggee is trying to eat us daddee." When we lived in the little red house and were new farmers we raised pigs for our own consumption. We mainly fed them left over table scraps. However with eight hungry kids scraps were sometimes few and far between. In fact one time the butcher told me that we had the leanest pork he had ever seen. Anyway getting back to the Piggee trying to eat Rebecca. I left the office and bought a sack of dog food. Dog Food works as a substitute if Pig feed is not readily avialable.

I drove up to the red house and saw a couple of little noses planted against the window staring outside, Rebecca, Ross and Annelisa. On the front porch, next to the window was a big black slender hungry pig. He was right in front of the door. He saw me, grunted, "oink oink," reached up and grabbed a shingle off the side of the house and began to crunch and chew the shingle down. Now that's a hungry pig! When he saw the sack of food he quickly followed me to the "pig pen" down below the barn. I repaired it again. I imagine it worked till he was real hungry again. The Shingle is still missing to this day and I can point right to it. I always laugh when I see the missing shingle. "Daddee pleaze come home quick. The piggee is trying to eat us daddy. Pleaze daddee the piggee is trying to eat us."

Easter Egg Hunters I

Egg Hunters on the prowl


Scott and Elijah "hanging out"


Mary I mean Gretchen shows off her loot

Before the Big Easter Egg Hunt

Grandpa says that we will never eat Goose for Easter

Just think aunt Annelisa used to use this very swing


Paige and Liam try the zip line


These tulips smell good


These are the shakes for the new roof for the little red house


I miss my slide


Paige says: "Have a nice Easter everyone and remember grandpa says no goose dinner for us!"

What we do is important

Ether 13:10 And that a New Jerusalem should be built upon this land, unto the remant of the seed of Joseph

There was once a father who lived in a remote mountain valley. Within this valley grew trees with the straitest grain and most beautiful wood in all the land. One day the father climbed the hillside to work next to his son who planted seedlings that grew into the magnificient trees. "I am tired father of trudging up and down these mountainsides and planting these seedlings. Most of them are dead the next year. Those that grow, grow so slowly that I will never see them very tall."

The father visited his second son who felled the mighty trees along the mountainside and hauled them to the mill in the valley. "Father why must I spend all my days cutting down these trees? My back is sore and my legs aches. My friends can do what they want. Why must I do this work?"

In the mountain valley the father visited his third son who worked in the mill. "Father it is loud and hot. This work is so tedious. Is there something else I can do?"

The next day the father took his sons to the top of the mountain in whose shadow the valley lay. He carried a telescope and carefully focused it. He invited each of his sons to look. As they gazed they saw in a land far away a beautiful city in the center of which was a beautiful temple with spires rising high into the sky and other temples rising from the ground. "What is it father?" they exclaimed. "It is a city built for our God. The wood from our trees is building that city and those temples."

The sons went down from the mountain top to their work. They retained a vision of that magnificient city and temple in the far away city. When the first son planted his seedlings he said with joy, "I plant trees for temples to our God." When the second son harvested the tall trees he declared with gladness in his heart, "The trees will be used to build the city and temples to the Lord." And the third son cut and sanded the wood with love in heart knowing what he did was for the glory of God.

TOP TEN LIST WHY I MISS DEREK

10. no fishing partner
9. no one to get 32 ouncers (4 wheelers) for me
8 I can't figure out how to turn on the tv
7. I have to take the garbage out
6. Cat is meowing constantly
5. Derek: "I'll drive"
4. no one to help me plant trees
3. no one to go bowling with
2. Derek: "I like your blog dad"
1. Derek: "Lets go fishing"

Welcome Home Grandma

Exciting Times in Utah

Sally Really Wants to See Annelisa Too
Scott Loading Up
Come on Mom We Really want to Hang out with Annelisa
Scott Driving Between 12-4am
Annelisa Examining the Loot
Well we are here in Utah arrived at around 5:30 am. Annelisa excited about her new furniture. Several hours of sleep and off to Park City. I am typing from an internet cafe in Park City Liam's red dodge pickup's transmission went kaput. AAA has towed the dodge to Hinckley Dodge in SLC. Can't go bad with a car repair shop named Hinkley in SLC right? Anyway I have rented a car. Hinckley will fix and will fix the pickup by Monday PM. Scott and I will leave then and drive all night which we are very adept at doing. I will solicit Rebecca to pick up Ann and Derek.

Scott is up sking right now he is like a kid in a candy shop. I will post pictures soon. It could have been worse. It could have happened in Tapachula, or Morelia, or Cabo or between bend an burns, or between burns and boise or in Enterprise or a lot of other places. Look at the positive side. The engine runs great. Now we can go Bear hunting knowing we won't get broke down.

Grandama Please Come Home Now! I Miss You

Hi Liam and Aerlind its Paigee

"Hi you guys this is Paigee"

Luk Airlind an Liam at da nu tre dat granpa Toten has! Its a Wollemi Pine from Austrla where Unkle Billiee yur daddee liam went on his missin. It was discuverd in 1994 when unkle Derek was onli for. It is 250 zillin years olde. A manne fonded it in a canyun. Peepul tot it was extinctie. Granpu Toten seys it is mircle tre. Thar wer onli for tres luftin da hol wurld rit thar. Granpu Toten sur luvs tres lik he luvs his grankidies

ann

my email is eolsen@olsendaines.com

ann

my email is eolsen@olsendaines.com

Ice Country

Mt Jefferson with Three Finger Jack in the Foreground taken 7:30 am March 23,2007 Friday


Ice is a strange thing. Jets don't have a problem with it, they go so fast that the ice doesn't have a chance to stick. They also punch up through the clouds fast. They fly high where there are no clouds and thus no moisture. There must be moisture for there to be ice. Thus clouds and freezing temperatures are a recipe for ice. Ice on airplane wings can do strange things. However certain types of ice is worse than other ice. The most common form of ice is "rime" ice. Rime ice is small even granules that form evenly over the front or leading edges of the wings and other parts of the plane. It is not uncommon to pick up a little rime ice either ascending above or descending below the clouds. Clear ice is entirely different. Clear ice is like the ice you see on your windshields, sometimes when you get freezing rain. It can form streaks. That ice is very dangerous. There also is what is called mixed ice. Mixed ice is a combination of rime and clear ice- it can get pretty ragged. All ice is dangerous, but the last two can accumulate quite fast. Since an airplane travels so fast through frozen moisture there is a potential to accumulate ice. What ice does is deform the wings and if care is not taken to get out, it can cause the plane to stall by the wings not being able to generate lift. The weight isn't the problem, it is the deformation of the wings that causes the problem.

I will never fly if there is clear ice forecast, or an ice storm. They are quite rare but that is a flat rule. If I encounter ice it usually quite easy to determine the rate of accumulation and also to fly at an altitude where the ice does not accumulate or fly above or below the clouds. Remember moisture or clouds are necessary for ice. Having a turbocharged engine allows me to climb high above the clouds ,and at around 1000 feet per minute, which for a small plane is pretty fast.

One time coming back from Klamath Falls I climbed up to over 19,000 feet to get out of the clouds. Usually I never have to climb that high. Last Monday afternoon coming back from Tri Cities I encountered light rime ice. I always report ice to the air traffic controllers I am talking to. It is mandatory. They want to know the outside air temperature, rate of accumulation light, moderate, or heavy and type of ice. They are very willing to facilitate a routing or altitude to get out of the ice. It is always a good feeling when you descend, when you get close to 32 degrees. The ice on the windshield starts to slide off like frosting off of a cake, then peels off the wings. Sometimes you will hear chunks hit parts of the plane as it flies off.

Say "Cheeese"

Melida, Paige and Elijah come for dinner








"Time for dinner where's Liam?"











Paige gave a very nice prayer



Elijah couldn't wait for prayer









"I like spagetti"











Uncle Scott back from skiing

Visitors Today

Desperate Geese

Scott

Dwarves

Why I Miss Master Ann by Sally

10. She is always glad to see me
9. She gives me treats from the fridge all the time.
8. She is nice to Finn
7. She throws balls for Finn and understands when I am tired
6. She lets me sleep on the couch
5. She lets me go hunting with Derek and Eric
4. She sees that my hair gets trimmed in the spring
3. She says "good Sally" and pets me nice
2. She never yells when I am muddy from digging for gophers which is often
1. She understands me. She was there for me through all my babies. We girls need to stick together

Annelisa's New Furniture

Anne Louise, "Can I go to BYU and live with Annelisa and her roommates? Pleeease?"











Elijah, "I want to go too I'm bored in Corvallis. I think the BYU chicks would find me irristable, don't you agree?"












Paige, "I would prefer to just stay with my grandpa."