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Oysterville Daybook Archives

September 13, 1987 seems so short ago.

September 13, 1987 seems so short ago.

Thirty-six years ago today Nyel and I were married At Croquet. Gordon was my Bridesmaid, Roy was Best Man. Joel Penoyar did the honors Much to Willard's chagrin! It was a surprise to everyone Except to my son Charlie My mother had the vapors Dad...

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Delbert Knapp, Esq. – The Old Lamp Lighter

Delbert Knapp, Esq. – The Old Lamp Lighter

In the case of Tucker's friend, Del, and the lamps in my house -- it's the lamps which are old, not the lamp lighter!  (And speaking of age... are you old enough to remember that song, "The Old Lamplighter of Long, Long Ago"?)  I can't help...

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Not on your tintype or in a month of Sundays

Not on your tintype or in a month of Sundays

I can't remember who said what yesterday, but whoever and whatever it was (or they were) prompted my rather adamant thought:  "Not on your tintype!"  Wow!  Where did THAT come from?  It's an expression my dad used occasionally but I hadn't thought...

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Mother’s Day Has Already Begun!

Mother’s Day Has Already Begun!

As I was going through yet another pile of "keepsakes" today, I came across a postcard sent to me from Shasta Dam in 1964 from my son Charlie who was then eight years old.  This is what it said: I got a pocket from Shasta Dam.  Can't talk long. ...

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“I’s not a leetle boy.  I’s a leetle geel!”

“I’s not a leetle boy. I’s a leetle geel!”

Someone in my past -- my mother? my grandmother? -- used to give a deep sigh about whatever was annoying her and say, "This will be the bane of my existence!"  I do believe it was often my wretched curly hair which one or the other of them was...

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Navy Blue Eyebrows and the S. of O. A.

Navy Blue Eyebrows and the S. of O. A.

I It's with that first glance of myself in the mirror each morning that I often hear my mother's sighing whisper -- "Oh, the Secrets of Old Age."  Though she never revealed exactly what those were, I find that I am, by now, discovering a few for...

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My mother set the bar really really high!

My mother set the bar really really high!

I'm not talking about the beverage bar here -- although mom had a fair hand at managing the little wet bar in this house after Dad (the main bartender) died.  I think she was making up for the years that she (and Dad, too) were pretty much...

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Monday Evening, March 23, 1931

Monday Evening, March 23, 1931

Letter from my dad, Bill Little, to my mom, Dale Espy, during Spring Break when they were both college students at the University of Redlands.  They would soon announce their engagement and would be married on September 22, 1934. Bright Angel Camp...

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Can hope exist without memory?

Can hope exist without memory?

Some years back, when my mother was still living at the nursing home up at the west end of Pioneer Road, we had an incident which I've never forgotten,  Nor have I ever quite come to an understanding of it. It was one of those pouring down January...

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The Wrong Holiday?  Maybe not.

The Wrong Holiday? Maybe not.

I know that love stories are usually associated with Valentine's Day more than with the upcoming Thanksgiving season, but this one that I ran across "amongst my souvenirs" reminded me a little bit of  both.  It was a story written  by my mother in...

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And up popped my mom again!

And up popped my mom again!

My mother was "quite a character."  We all said so when she was living (1911-2009) and, probably, so did she.  She loved to dress up, almost always completed her costume with a hat (often one she, herself, had made), entertained frequently and in...

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about teeth and siblings…

about teeth and siblings…

"Do you still have all your own teeth?" After a prolonged absence, it was the first question my mother and her brother Willard asked one another when they'd get together -- especially as they aged.  Willard died in 1999 at the venerable age of 88...

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