Monday Memory- in honor of Sibling Sunday

 The seven of us grew up on 2nd East under two elm trees in a red brick house.  I delivered newspapers, watered flowers on main street, played baseball in our front yard, and every spring I built a hut under the lilac trees.

Our family car was an old Esquire Station Wagon.  It was yellow with dark panels.  Over time, the panels faded.  Dad dressed it up with bumper stickers from all of our family trips.  Mom made homemade bread every week, did the laundry constantly, and fed us- constantly.  

My father was a social worker for the state of Utah and had two or three additional jobs as well.  Mom stayed home with us kids until I was in the 4th grade. She started teaching high school and  from then on, I came home from school at noon and fed baby sister and dad lunch.  We were poor, but I didn't mind.  We got along.  

I was raised during the late '70's and '80's. I am pretty sure everyone near 2nd East was poor. I wore hand me downs, rode a hand me down bike, and I played with hand me down dolls.  

We were raised on beef from the cattle from Grandpa Hofheins' farm and our home was decorated with the paintings and pots created by Grandpa Weaver's hands.  We didn't have boats or four-wheelers.  We were lucky to have two wheelers.    

 Dad looked after the widows, held church callings- worked a lot for not much money - mom she looked after us and wrote for the local newspaper for "shoe money." I pretty much thought my brothers hung the moon as a kid well until they told me what to do.  I don't really like being told what to do. My brothers fought each other, chased each other, wrestled each other and  even threw cow pies at each other.

 
Wendy was our other mother.  She cut our hair, curled our hair, painted our nails, and loved us unconditionally.  Heather was the caboose of our brood- the baby.  When I think of her now, I imagine her in her pink footie jammies standing in the crib and crying until we would put her in bed with us.

 Each of us had a birthday present meaning we were born in the same month.  Kim and Wendy were the July babies, Cleve and Michael shared March and Chris and I shared August.  When Heather came along in November, we tagged her as our holiday baby.  My brother Chris was my birthday present- I adored him- I still do!

 We were a goofy looking bunch.  I loved the feeling of the seven of us plus mom and dad sitting on one bench together in the old rock church.  

 The days of the first ward and 2nd East for the 9 of us are treasured memories.  Everyone had a large family in those days.  My brothers were athletes and students- they were good boys.  They played little baseball for Bill Kringlen, football for Steve Jensen, and somewhere in between they were taught the gospel.  Each served a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.

 I loved this orange couch.  Polyester, orange, and 2nd East...

Happy belated sibling's day- Kim, Cleve, Chris, Wendy, Michael and Heather.  Not that we always got a long, or that we do today, but I still love you- after all, you raised me under two elm trees in a red brick house on 2nd East.