Birthday blog's birthday

I am not the only one having a birthday this week.  I am sharing it with two grandsons and my blog.  Yep, my blog is now 6 years old.  My amazing DIL, Sally, created it for me as a birthday gift SIX years ago!  I have chosen over the years to leave it as she designed it and named it, "A Place to Share."

The name has been so appropriate and it reminds me of my Grandma Rhoda Ann Foote Nyborg's home.  It was "a place to share" and I loved visiting her on our annual summer trips north to Idaho from Arizona.  She would pull out all her latest quilt tops and crocheting projects for  us to see and we would visually cruise her sideboard for the latest pictures of her grandchildren.  I am pretty sure that if she had been born in the 20th century instead of the end of the 19th that she would have loved to share in a blog.

Readers would have been treated to multiple double wedding ring quilts (one for each grandchild), true patchwork quilts made from the fabric pieces left over from our garment sewing (I really loved my going away to college quilt made of plaids, most from my garment sewing), and ripple afghans (one for each son and son-in-law.)  She probably could have shared a tip or two on her methods back before rotary cutters and mats.  She was a template tracer who cut out pieces with scissors and then hand pieced them all back together in a most artistic way.  She had a knack for color placement and design.  I loved to see her plastic dish pans full of fabric pieces and blocks ready for the next quilt top.

I also like to think that she would have shared all the pictures of her grands online as well and maybe there would have been a post about Velva and her kids coming for their summer visit or when Laurel came to show off her first born son and Rhoda's great grandson.

This is the first picture that I posted of my grand children in November 2007.  My how they have grown over the years, but because I received this gift, I finally had a way to journal and share in a consistent way my interactions with and pictures of them the last six years.  Come March, their numbers will have doubled and now the older ones like to explore my journal history.  I in turn, love to share our family history with them.  Thank you Sally for the perfect birthday gift.

WWII viewpoints

I've been plodding, yes plodding, through this biography on Dwight Eisenhower published in 2012.  Thank goodness for my Arizona library's generous online renewal system.  I like a good, fat, comprehensive biography every once in awhile.  No need to stay up all night finishing it as you already have a pretty good idea where the story is going and how it will end.  But all the fascinating little details and nuances, that is what keeps one coming back a few pages at a time.

Eisenhower is the first US president that I can remember as he won the presidential election the year I was born.  However, I was a bit confused as a child.  I thought there was only one president in my world, President David O. McKay, who presided over my church as well as country.  One day my mother sat me down and gave it to me straight explaining all about Eisenhower.  It rocked my world a bit but I accepted it.  I think my mother had a soft spot for both men.  She considered President McKay to be a living prophet and she had served in the Women's Army Air Corps during WWII and appreciated General Eisenhower's leadership as allied commander.

The President McKay of my youth was a tall man with a full head of beautiful white hair and he looked like a prophet.  I found this picture on the BYU web site taken in 1952 when then President Harry S. Truman visited campus during a campaign trip for Adlai Stevenson.  President McKay is on Truman's left. Truman played a part in the subtle political wrangling the eventually put Eisenhower on the Republican ticket.

 

I found the political presidential part interesting but more so the military career of Eisenhower.  It was fascinating to follow the history of WWII from the commander's viewpoint and logistics, both the seeming failures and the triumphs.

When my son learned of my current read, he recommended and lent me "Rite of Passage".  The author, Ray Matheny, had been my son's professor at BYU.  Now I had another viewpoint of WWII, that of a young enlisted man who trained as a flight engineer and top-turret gunner on a B-17.  His plane eventually was brought down over Germany and he and one other crew member survive but soon find themselves POWs in Stalag 17 under the command of the Nazis.

If I had been more interested in history when younger, I might have had the WWII viewpoints of my maternal uncles from the ground and the air.  The greatest generation doesn't like to talk much about it but I could have at least asked a question or two.  Lowell, in khaki, became a top-turret gunner like Matheny but in a B-24 Liberator.  Ray Metheny was based in England and his  bombardment group mostly dropped their wares over Germany.   Lowell D. Nyborg was based in southern Italy with the 746th heavy bombardment group as part of the 456th, or "Steed's Flying Colts," who dropped their bombs in Italy, Austria, and Romania preparing for the invasion of southern France.  Other targets included those in Germany, Czechoslovakia, Hungary, and the Balkans.  Lowell, too, survived when his plane fell from the sky over Austria near the end of the conflict.  He also was taken as a prisoner of war who eventually returned home not only with a beating heart but with a Purple Heart for valor. His brother, Elden, served in the Army as an infantry soldier marching across France.

Lowell is the hat less blond on the front row in this picture of his crew in front of their B-24 Liberator.  I found online a scanned hand typed page with 5/2/45 at the top listing each crew members' name and rank along with the name of a family member and their home address.  My guess is that it was in preparation for the notification of the next of kin about the plane going down.  They came from New York to Kentucky and Washington, D.C. to Drummond, Idaho.  My grandmother's name, Rhoda, is on that list.  I can only imagine her worry and despair.  There is also a scanned page of an "Individual Casualty Questionnaire" given by Lowell Nyborg.  It states when questioned about the bombardier, "Went down with the plane."

It is pretty amazing how much one can find by browsing the Internet but I know it would have been so much better if I could have just sat down and visited with the uncles.  Too bad my interest and questions came later.  They are both gone now, but miraculously they both came home and my grandmother's family, though marked forever by their experiences, remained intact.

Cousins at the ranch

These pictures popped up on Facebook this week.  My cousin's daughter was busy making a calendar for their family but thought we would all enjoy seeing these cousin pictures.  That is my grandma, Rhoda Ann, surrounded by the younger set.  Part of that group is the 60's club.  In 1960, five of Rhoda's children had babies and those five babies have been bragging about it ever since.  I'm guessing that these photos were taken in the summer of 1967.

That educated guess is based on the stripped shirt I am wearing.  I'm pretty sure I wore it and my 501 Levis to the Sadie Hawkins Dance at McClintock High in the Spring of 1967.  It appears that they lined us up by age in this picture.  I'm glad that they did as it is interesting to see our birth order as a group.

After moving to Arizona, my family would take a annual summer trip back to Idaho.  Sometimes my mother would work for someone else who was on vacation at Madison Memorial Hospital to pay for our travel expenses and the caretaker fees for my father after he was no longer able to travel with us.  Those trips always included a family reunion at the ranch.  We loved being at this beautiful place with its golden rolling wheat fields and the Tetons in the distance.  We are seated on the lawn of my Uncle Keith's home, he having taken over the ranch after my grandfather's death.

My grandparents had two homes in the 1950's, the one on the ranch and a cinder block house that they had built in Ashton.  The Ashton home was a winter home and made it easier for their children to go to high school as the ranch was often snowed in.  My mother boarded with a family in St. Anthony to attend high school prior to the time of the cinder block home.

I distinctly remember a family Christmas party in the Ashton house.  It was the first time that I had seen bubble lights.  They were on my grandparents' tree and I was mesmerized.  Because of that childhood memory, bubble lights are usually on one of our Christmas trees.  Most of the older cousins in the above picture were at that family party.  We had drawn names for gift giving.  I received a beautiful tea set from one of my cousins.  This was before the Christmas time of my grandfather's death so I was six years old or younger.  I remember the lights, the joyful house, the gift exchange, a busy grandmother, and my anxious ride to their house filled with anticipation.  It is a magical Christmas memory.

Two quilts and a view

We just returned from Utah where the hubby taught two seminars and visited with many, many clients. What did I do? Why I gazed intermittently at this beautiful view out of the windows of the townhouse while I worked on two quilts and visited with many family members.

The Civil War quilt is now on my mom's frame. I have stored it in Utah for almost 9 years always planning to have a quilt on that I could stitch while in Provo. Finally my dream has come true.

This is the hard wood frame that my mother purchased when she retired. She had 9 hand pieced quilt tops that had been given to her by her mother. Her goal was to hand quilt them all which she accomplished. Before I left I had the quilting done through the first row of blocks and sashing.

Shortly after I was married, I fell in love with a Grandmother's Flower Garden quilt featured in Better Homes and Garden. I already had received one of Grandmother Rhoda's Double Wedding Ring quilts as a wedding gift. Greedy person that I am, I asked Grandma if she would make me a Flower Garden quilt if I purchased the material. She said "yes" and I did. I had the hand pieced quilt top in no time at all and my mother helped me quilt it on the old rickety quilt frames we used before she bought the above frame. You know, the ones with 4 soft pine boards and stands with a slot to hold the boards held together with c-clamps. And then came time to bind it. I was over whelmed and then discovered I was pregnant with #2. Time slipped away as I mothered.

Flash forward 35 years and picture a quilted top with untrimmed backing and batting sitting in linen closet after linen closet as we moved and grew as a family. I still couldn't decide what to do about the binding. Then I decided that it needed to be Nathan's. I looked at post after DIY post. Finally I came across something so simple and 1930's that I felt was just right. So I also took this quilt to Utah where I trimmed the back and batt even with the top.

Then I turned each edge in 1/4 inch and hand stitched them together reinforcing at the "v's." Each little hexagon will get a turn.

It is going to take a while to go all the way around but I am now one fourth of the way there. It has been a pleasure to work on this quilt. Every time I turn an edge, there are my grandmother's pencil marks where she had traced and then cut with scissors every one of those hexagons for me.

I saw this quote on another blog and it so aptly expresses how I have felt this week.

“A quilt is an object of peculiar intimacy. By virtue of the way it is created, every inch of the fabric is touched. Each scrap absorbs the quilter’s scent and the invisible oils of her skin, the smell of her household and, thanks to the constant pinning and stitching, her blood in the tiniest of quantities. And tears, though she might be loath to admit it.”

- from “The Goodbye Quilt” by Susan Wiggs

Idaho, Days 7 & 8, Ashton and the Ranch

Tuesday morning, sister Lynette and I left for our own side trip to Idaho. We stopped at West Jordan, Salt Lake Valley, to pick up Lynette's friend from college days, Annette, as well. She grew up in Rexburg and wanted to visit with family and interview our Uncle Keith who had served with her father when there was a LTM at Ricks College. She is writing a history of those days. She is also a quilter, so our ride north became a "quilt shop hop" as she shared some of her favorites with us. And yes, I purchased a bit of fabric at each stop!

Our first adventure Wednesday morning was a trip to Ashton, place of my birth, and the ranch. As you can see by all the new silos, Ashton is still the railroad hub of southeast Idaho. There were very green wheat fields as far as the eye could see interspersed with potato fields.

Our first stop was the Frostop. I took this picture for Logan of his mother in front of one of his favorite places.

I also took a picture of the mural in the bathroom. Believe it or not, Lynette didn't even notice it when it was her turn! There were lots of tourists stopping for refreshment on their way to Yellowstone Park.

Soon we were headed east to "the Ranch" located about 15 miles east of Ashton near Drummond. Although it has been sold, it still feels like our "homeplace." My grandparents Andrew Percy and Rhoda Nyborg began farming this land in the 1920's and my Uncle Keith continued to work the land when his father passed away in 1959. He finally sold it just a few years ago. This is a picture of Keith and Raija's home from down the hill. Unfortunately, the new owner has not maintained it in the same manner as did Keith and Raija.

Conant Creek was a rushing torrent. Idaho also had a very wet winter. There would have been no wading by the little ones if we were reuniting in the creek bottom this year. See the little island in the upper part of the picture. That was the site of many a bonfire and fireworks display at our family reunions.

And here is the creek from the opposite side of the bridge facing west.

The sauna, a location for many "bathing" memories. Uncle Keith told us at Annette's interview, that the missionaries at the LTM used to try to break the record of the most runs from the sauna to the swimming hole on a visit. One fool did it 17 times.

The birch trees on the south side of the creek and east of the road were lovely as always.

Of course the gates were up, so we could only get this close to the old outbuildings. The grassy patch to the right in the picture is where my grandparents home once stood.

Looking southwest towards Keith and Raija's house.

The cattle pens are still there and I understand that Keith and Gerald still manage to find some fence to mend in the spring.

I'm now looking south to the creek bed from the hill where my mother was born.

Her parents home at that time stood near this old barn. It seemed appropriate that we were here the day before her birthday.

It's also nice to have the barn as a marker for her birth location.

It's also a bit of a landmark as it stands on quite a hill which is not readily shown in these picture.

We next traveled on north and west to the old Squirrel Dance Hall where my grandparents danced as they courted. They had met in Idaho the summer Rhoda came from Orderville, Utah to cook for her brothers.

As you can see, it was established in 1916, so they danced in a brand new building. They met before Andrew Percy served in France during WWI. Upon his mending from a bullet wound and return home, he decided to take the train to southern Utah to see what his chances were with Rhoda Ann. I guess they were pretty good because they were married in Kanab a short time later on January 7, 1920 and she returned to the ranch with him. Their first baby was a stillborn, then Elden was born, and then my mother in 1924, followed by Lowell. These first three children all served during WWII. They went on to have five more children, Keith, Gerald, Elna, Milton, and Nola.

My uncles arranged for us to meet in this building at our family reunion in 1993.

Here is our family group that year. We had lunch inside, Gerald's slide show of the family in the 50's and 60's, and a talent show. Fun times! Notice the Tetons in the distance.


My pictures make the land seem flat, but it is anything but flat. It is a series of beautiful rolling hills, thus just the view of roof tops in the distance.

This is the old general store, now a private home, located across the street from the dance hall.

We came upon these red poppies as we drove back to the bridge at Fall River.

Everything was so pretty and green.

We saw so many wildflowers, including daisies at the ranch, of course. But not red poppies. It made me wonder who might have once lived here who loved red poppies.

It felt good to be home!

Flag Day and stitching

My grandmother, Rhoda Ann, hand-pieced this Broken Star quilt top. It is at least as old as I am and I've always loved it. It became my mother's and when she retired, she hand quilted it (with a bit of help from me) twenty some years ago. We quilted at my house because I had the floor space for the quilting frames. It just kind of stayed at my house upon completion and when I moved to my current home, it found its way onto the wall. The quilt became the focal point of the family room/kitchen and directed the color scheme of red, white, and blue and a patriotic feel.

My mother had inherited several of her mother's hand-pieced quilt tops. She managed to quilt them all before her death. My five siblings picked from those. They were kind. They knew that the quilt I wanted was already hanging on my wall.

I decided that this quilt was good to share on Flag Day with its patriotic colors. But I also have a greater reverence for all of that hand-piecing.

This morning I finally tackled Civil War quilt block #5, Kansas Troubles. It did indeed cause lots of trouble. There was much unpicking when I discovered that some of those little triangles were pointing the wrong way after completing two of the four base blocks.

Bottom line, if I hadn't found the Civil War Quilts blog on the Saturday morning when Barbara Brackman posted block # 23, Illinois Roads; I don't think I would have tackled this project. I easily completed #23. That gave me courage to go back and try the others already posted, skipping those that looked harder. If I had started at the beginning on January 1st, I probably would have given up!

Now I feel tenacious! And the new fabric worked out so well!