As some of you already know, Riley the pug is knocked up. In her unwed condition she felt a lot better spending the next 9 weeks plus puppy whelping time in seclusion. To keep you updated check out her very own blog for news.
http://rileythepug.blogspot.com/
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
More Gundersen Stories
Knowing that one story would only whet your appetite for more, I gathered together all the stories that Grandpa Wilford Gundersen told to John Madsen about 4 decades ago or so. (The only story I left out was the one told by Grandpa's 2nd wife Sophia. She told an odd little story about her first hustand. Let me know if you're crazy to hear that one too ... and I'll post it.)
I personally love these stories. Mostly I guess because one of my favorite childhood memories was listening to my dad Tom tell stories. In my mind I can hear my little girl voice whining, "Dad, tell me a story ... tell me a story." I'd whine until he'd start up a story for me. It would most often be about his childhood ... about William Penn School; about wrestling with his brothers; about playing in his grandpa's (Thomas Gundersen's) barn up on Gundersen Lane when he thought his grandpa wouldn't catch him at it; about dreaming he could fly and then testing his theory by jumping off the shed behind his house almost landing on a picket fence; about falling off a wagon pulling a plow, landing in a small low point in the field & being run over by the plow (resulting in the loss of an ear). His mother Ingeborg put the ear back on ... and did a pretty good job of it. Dad would always lean down at this point of the story to show me a closeup of his ear. All I could see were a few deep scars beind the ear to show what had happened. Sometimes he would draw a picture for me. He was a good artist -- he liked drawing horses and birds. Anyway, once his story started I was mezmerized ... and I always ended up laughing. Not just a little laugh. But that kind of uncontrollable laughter that wouldn't stop.
Grandpa Wilford's stories remind me of dad's stories. Dad's stories were usually a little lighter and as I thought much funnier; and his voice was a little higher pitched. But, all the same, the style is very similar. So when I listen to these stories, I'm also hearing dad's voice telling his stories. And I love it.
I personally love these stories. Mostly I guess because one of my favorite childhood memories was listening to my dad Tom tell stories. In my mind I can hear my little girl voice whining, "Dad, tell me a story ... tell me a story." I'd whine until he'd start up a story for me. It would most often be about his childhood ... about William Penn School; about wrestling with his brothers; about playing in his grandpa's (Thomas Gundersen's) barn up on Gundersen Lane when he thought his grandpa wouldn't catch him at it; about dreaming he could fly and then testing his theory by jumping off the shed behind his house almost landing on a picket fence; about falling off a wagon pulling a plow, landing in a small low point in the field & being run over by the plow (resulting in the loss of an ear). His mother Ingeborg put the ear back on ... and did a pretty good job of it. Dad would always lean down at this point of the story to show me a closeup of his ear. All I could see were a few deep scars beind the ear to show what had happened. Sometimes he would draw a picture for me. He was a good artist -- he liked drawing horses and birds. Anyway, once his story started I was mezmerized ... and I always ended up laughing. Not just a little laugh. But that kind of uncontrollable laughter that wouldn't stop.
Grandpa Wilford's stories remind me of dad's stories. Dad's stories were usually a little lighter and as I thought much funnier; and his voice was a little higher pitched. But, all the same, the style is very similar. So when I listen to these stories, I'm also hearing dad's voice telling his stories. And I love it.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
We started the fast!
This is just to report that Jake and I have officially started the family fast. We did it in true Gundersen style, by eating a Rhubarb Crisp made from Connie & Leonard's backyard rhubarb plant. It was so delicious. If I was a rhubarb crisp, I would definitely eat myself.
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