Dear Barbara, I'm so glad you shared that with us. I'm glad to know that you petty much figured out the same thing that I did not that many years ago. That you never show your emotions, not even to your children. How sad. Yes nowadays things have changed and you feel free to hug even a friend. I remember when I had to get used to receiving hugs from my sister Norma's mother-in-law but eventually when I started to receive hugs from my niece AND nephew, it felt really good. Now I receive hugs from even my neighbor Ken and my neighbor Dawn. Again it feels really good. Everyone always needs a hug. hugs, vee ----- Original Message ----- From: <Mollbar@aol.com> To: <NYNIAGAR-FOLKS-L@rootsweb.com> Sent: Monday, April 18, 2005 11:04 PM Subject: Re: [FOLKS] Resting my head on Mother's lap > Hi Vee and Evelyn > > My mother's generation did not show affection the way we do today. As I > became older and found people hugging more frequently I began to wonder > why that > was. My mother lived with us the last six months of her life. She loved to > read > and the night before she died she asked me to find a specific book for > her. As > I recall the name was "Laddie" written about 1917 I think. A few weeks > later > I sat down to read the book. In it Laddie was leaving by train for the > army. > He was so proud of his mother because she did not cry as he left. It spoke > to > me, making me realize that in that era keeping your emotions in check was > a > sign of self-control and maturity. Nevertheless, I certainly knew my > mother and > dad loved me. > > Recently my bother had some old movies_about 1935 I think_put on a DVD. > Here > are all the family in Pennsylvania shaking hands with us as we are leaving > to > go back to Niagara Falls. No hugging. (As my grandfather shook the hands > of my > brother and I there was always a fifty cent piece in his hand for us.) > > Well, times have changed for the better I think. My family, children, > grandchildren and great grandchildren gets hugs and kisses from us as we > receive hugs > from them. It did take my husband awhile to start hugging his adult sons > but > it is comfortable now and warmly received by them. > > Barbara > > >

Hi Vee and Evelyn My mother's generation did not show affection the way we do today. As I became older and found people hugging more frequently I began to wonder why that was. My mother lived with us the last six months of her life. She loved to read and the night before she died she asked me to find a specific book for her. As I recall the name was "Laddie" written about 1917 I think. A few weeks later I sat down to read the book. In it Laddie was leaving by train for the army. He was so proud of his mother because she did not cry as he left. It spoke to me, making me realize that in that era keeping your emotions in check was a sign of self-control and maturity. Nevertheless, I certainly knew my mother and dad loved me. Recently my bother had some old movies_about 1935 I think_put on a DVD. Here are all the family in Pennsylvania shaking hands with us as we are leaving to go back to Niagara Falls. No hugging. (As my grandfather shook the hands of my brother and I there was always a fifty cent piece in his hand for us.) Well, times have changed for the better I think. My family, children, grandchildren and great grandchildren gets hugs and kisses from us as we receive hugs from them. It did take my husband awhile to start hugging his adult sons but it is comfortable now and warmly received by them. Barbara

Vee, Evelyn, Barbara, and All, The not crying "thing" is what got me. When I was 15, we had to put our much-loved, 18-year-old dog down. Mother loved the dog as much as I, but she had been taught that one should not cry in front of anyone else. I knew how much she loved him and could not figure out why she didn't care that he was dead. Years later, we discussed this difficult time. She then explained that she did cry, but that she did it all in private. When my father died, I saw only a few tears drip from Mother's eyes. By this time, I was in my late 30's, and I understood how she felt even though I saw so few tears. When I was in my late 40's, my only sibling (and her husband) were killed by a drunk driver. Once again, my mother held the "stiff upper lip". I understood, but I cried a lot. I am thankful that she had never succeeded in getting me to not show my feelings. In 2000, Mother and I found out that she would die of cancer. Early on, during the one month that we had left together, she said to me, "Please don't cry in front of me. If you do, I will start and not be able to quit." I told her that I would follow her wishes.... **after** I got to tell her how much I loved having her as my mother. I cried a lot during those few minutes while I was curled up in bed with her spewing out all about how much I loved her. Then, I put on the "stiff upper lip"...... for her sake. Although it was extremely difficult for me, I never cried around her for that one month. But, as soon as she had taken her last breath, I let loose big-time! Leslie (Bridges) Kohler

Dear Folks, The minute I got up this morning I realized that not only is my book report a dumb idea, but is probably illegal. What I had intended to do was tell you the whole plot to the very end where we'd find out who done it. That would be 100% against the copyright laws. What I've already written shouldn't be a problem since it could be viewed as a teaser to get you to read the book yourself. But I sure did enjoy the daylights out of telling you as much as I did last night! End of book report! vee ----- Original Message ----- From: "Vee L. Housman" <housman@adelphia.net> To: <NYNIAGAR-FOLKS-L@rootsweb.com> Sent: Monday, April 18, 2005 1:19 AM Subject: [FOLKS] My Book Report > Dear Folks, > > This may be the dumbest thing I've ever started out to write but as usual > my mind won't shut up at this late hour and insists that I at least to > give it a shot. So here goes. > > For the past few days I've been reading my newest murder mystery, > "Sympathy for the Devil," a Culinary Mystery by Jerrilyn Farmer. It's a > serious murder mystery but lighthearted at the same time. > > The story opens with Madeline Bean who has managed to get her catering > business up and going over the years to the point where she's catering the > biggest Hollywood brunches, lunches and A-list parties for the rich and > famous of Hollywood. As the story opens, she and her partner Wes and > their assistant Molly (and about 30 others of the cooking staff) are in > the throes of putting the last-minute touches on the exquisite gourmet > food that will be served to about 500 guests amid the most ghostly and > scary Halloween effects that could possibly have been created. All > created by Madeline and her staff. > > I'll skip the part where there's a very last minute disaster with the > delivery of $13,000 worth of crates of truffles that she ordered that > turned out to be crates of earthworms. Nonetheless, after a few phone > calls, the earthworms were eventually delivered to the bait shop and the > bait shop turned over her crates of truffles. > > Moving right along, all of the guests were enjoying themselves with drinks > and the gourmet food when things got a bit tense. Their host Bruno was > spouting off his big mouth again, especially toward his good-for-nothing > grown sons by a few wives of his. Frankly, none of the guests liked Bruno > in the least. It was just that he was a big time movie/TV producer and > they were sucking up to him because they were in the same acting/producing > game as he but on a much smaller scale. > > After the food was set out and the guests were enjoying it plus the > non-stop availability of Champaign and other drinks, there was a horrible > scream out on the wooden dance floor under a tent. It was Bruno's latest > wife Lily screaming and standing over him as he writhed on the floor in > agony unable to breathe. A few moments afterward, he stopped breathing > and just lay there, dead. > > In other words, that's where the murder just begins and Madeline the > caterer finds that she's right in the middle of it. The coroner's report > on Bruno showed that he had died of strychnine poisoning! > > Before I continue this book report let me know if you're interested in my > continuing to write the Readers Digest version of the book. > vee > >

Dear Folks, This may be the dumbest thing I've ever started out to write but as usual my mind won't shut up at this late hour and insists that I at least to give it a shot. So here goes. For the past few days I've been reading my newest murder mystery, "Sympathy for the Devil," a Culinary Mystery by Jerrilyn Farmer. It's a serious murder mystery but lighthearted at the same time. The story opens with Madeline Bean who has managed to get her catering business up and going over the years to the point where she's catering the biggest Hollywood brunches, lunches and A-list parties for the rich and famous of Hollywood. As the story opens, she and her partner Wes and their assistant Molly (and about 30 others of the cooking staff) are in the throes of putting the last-minute touches on the exquisite gourmet food that will be served to about 500 guests amid the most ghostly and scary Halloween effects that could possibly have been created. All created by Madeline and her staff. I'll skip the part where there's a very last minute disaster with the delivery of $13,000 worth of crates of truffles that she ordered that turned out to be crates of earthworms. Nonetheless, after a few phone calls, the earthworms were eventually delivered to the bait shop and the bait shop turned over her crates of truffles. Moving right along, all of the guests were enjoying themselves with drinks and the gourmet food when things got a bit tense. Their host Bruno was spouting off his big mouth again, especially toward his good-for-nothing grown sons by a few wives of his. Frankly, none of the guests liked Bruno in the least. It was just that he was a big time movie/TV producer and they were sucking up to him because they were in the same acting/producing game as he but on a much smaller scale. After the food was set out and the guests were enjoying it plus the non-stop availability of Champaign and other drinks, there was a horrible scream out on the wooden dance floor under a tent. It was Bruno's latest wife Lily screaming and standing over him as he writhed on the floor in agony unable to breathe. A few moments afterward, he stopped breathing and just lay there, dead. In other words, that's where the murder just begins and Madeline the caterer finds that she's right in the middle of it. The coroner's report on Bruno showed that he had died of strychnine poisoning! Before I continue this book report let me know if you're interested in my continuing to write the Readers Digest version of the book. vee

Evelyn wrote, > Your mother/daughter relationship memories made me realize that although I > didn't have those same kind - as my mom wasn't a hugging, cuddling type, > she > did love me in her way. I've learned that you can't give what you don't > have. For example my big sis used to watch the old TV show "The Waltons" > with the "good nights" they called out to one another at the show's end > and > wondered why our family didn't have that kind of relationship. Parents > who > like and love each, well it flows down onto the children. We didn't have > that kind of parents, though they did the best they could with what they > knew. > > Thanks for sharing your memories Vee ! Dear Evelyn, Regarding my mother being a hugging type other than what I had posted, that's about the only time I can remember her showing me any overt affection until I was waaay grown up. The same goes for my father and both sets of grandparents. I've always felt deprived for the lack of anyone demonstrating love to me. Yes I know what you mean about the Waltons saying good night to each other. Everytime I heard them saying that it made me feel good. Our family never had the opportunity to do that together because we all went to bed at different times. Yes my parents did the best they could, too. Frankly in looking back on my childhood and growing up years, they did a pretty darned good job of raising me. That's why I try to dig up all the positive memories I have to remind me of the subtle way they did show their love. And that's why I'm writing them down. I certainly don't want to remind myself of all of the negative memories. vee

Vee you wrote - >" Dear Lorraine, > > Thanks for letting me know that you can warmly relate to what I said. I'm > also glad that you have treasured memories of your own mother. They're > wonderful, aren't they? > vee" Your mother/daughter relationship memories made me realize that although I didn't have those same kind - as my mom wasn't a hugging, cuddling type, she did love me in her way. I've learned that you can't give what you don't have. For example my big sis used to watch the old TV show "The Waltons" with the "good nights" they called out to one another at the show's end and wondered why our family didn't have that kind of relationship. Parents who like and love each, well it flows down onto the children. We didn't have that kind of parents, though they did the best they could with what they knew. Thanks for sharing your memories Vee ! Evelyn

Dear Folks, It's time for me to trundle off to bed. I'm certainly tired enough but my brain refuses to let me go until I tell you a bit of a story. It has to do with the tasty dinner I had this evening. By dinner time I certainly had enough of an appetite but I just didn't have enough inspiration to figure out what I wanted to thaw out for an entree, a starch and a vegetable. As a result, I took the easy way out--a frozen TV dinner. This past week when I went grocery shopping I noticed that they had Banquet TV dinners on sale for $1.00 each. Now you can't beat the price. I learned years ago that Banquet has very tasty frozen fried chicken so I thought I'd throw caution to the winds and buy three of the dinners. Tonight as I contemplated which one of the dinners I wanted to heat up, I spied the one that had intrigued me. The entree consisted of formed pork "ribs" in a barbeque sauce. Generally I shy away from anything with a barbeque sauce because the sauce tends to be toooo sweet. But at the same time I remembered that back in the early 1980s when I was a drilling Reservist in Buffalo, we were served something similar to that for lunch. And I loved it! Therefore, I thought I'd give it a try. And do you know what? It was delicious! The sauce wasn't too sweet at all and had a definite tang of tasty hickory smoke. The mashed potatoes and the corn with it, were just fine. When I scraped up the last smidgen of the sauce with my remaining mashed potatoes, I sighed with contentment. Hey, not a bad dinner for only $1.00! vee

Dear Folks, Today as I continued to edit my stories, I came across a vague reference to Aunt Teeny (Ernestine) and pull taffy during WWII and I thought I'd tell you the story as well as I can remember it. Aunt Teeny was married to Ed Hoerner whom everyone just called Hoerner. My sister and I referred to him as Uncle Hoerner. During the war Uncle Hoerner was in the Navy and was sent overseas. While he was in the Navy Aunt Teeny would send him boxes of homemade cookies and other delights. One time she decided to make a batch of pull taffy for him and asked her sisters Freda, Jean and Betty to help her with it. They were also my aunts, sisters of Mother. Cooking pull taffy is pretty routine as far as making candy goes but what makes it special is that after it's done and has cooled down to where you can handle it, it's time to go to work pulling it. It takes two people to pull taffy by hand. A blob of taffy is scooped up and pulled into a rope, the rope is lapped over in half and you pull it again and again until it's a very thin rope with a nice creamy shade and is chewy but still soft--like salt water taffy. Uncle Hoerner always wrote back telling Aunt Teeny how delicious everything was but one time he mentioned that as delicious as the pull taffy was, he was curious what the red specks were that were in it. Teeny didn't have a clue what he was talking about and she discussed it with her three sisters to see if they had a clue. The four of them thought about it some more and then they all busted up laughing. They had just figured out that while they were pulling the taffy, they were all wearing red fingernail polish and that chips of polish ended up in the taffy! Granted, this isn't the funniest story that's ever been told but it was at the time it happened. Such are the hazards of war! :-) vee

Dear Lorraine, Thanks for letting me know that you can warmly relate to what I said. I'm also glad that you have treasured memories of your own mother. They're wonderful, aren't they? vee > Oh Vee... you really pulled at my heartstrings with that post. Most > definitely, that's a wonderful memory to have of your Mother. > > I'm fortunate enough to enjoy similar memories of an incredibly kind and > gentle, loving Mother, who had the softest skin in the world, and a > gazillion > freckles on her slender arms. Now she inhabits my dreams...

Oh Vee... you really pulled at my heartstrings with that post. Most definitely, that's a wonderful memory to have of your Mother. I'm fortunate enough to enjoy similar memories of an incredibly kind and gentle, loving Mother, who had the softest skin in the world, and a gazillion freckles on her slender arms. Now she inhabits my dreams... Happy Saturday, friends. Lorraine In a message dated 04/15/2005 10:23:47 PM Pacific Daylight Time, housman@adelphia.net writes: When I got a bit too big to crawl up on her lap, I'd walk over to where she was sitting and rest my head on her lap. It was the same feeling of love. She'd hug me and pat my head and pat my back and the smell of her was so motherly and comfortable.

Dear Folks, It's apparent to me that this evening I've been calling up pleasant memories of when I was a very young child. I recall that when I was just a toddler and needed a bit of cuddling, I'd crawl up on my mother's lap and she would hold me close to her. What a feeling of love. When I got a bit too big to crawl up on her lap, I'd walk over to where she was sitting and rest my head on her lap. It was the same feeling of love. She'd hug me and pat my head and pat my back and the smell of her was so motherly and comfortable. Those are such fleeting moments of mine that I'm still trying to hold on to. vee

Dear Folks, I have an idea that I posted this story back in 2000 but any rate, I wanted to share my memories of it again. vee Tea and Toast June 8, 2000 This evening as I was fixing myself a snack of toast spread with butter and peanut butter, the smell of the bread toasting reminded me of one day when I was about eight years old when I spent a whole glorious afternoon dining on tea and toast. It was around 1939. Of course at my age now I don't remember all the details, only bits and pieces of that afternoon, but on a number of occasions over the years, that scene has continued to return to me. And every time I remember it, I can still recall the delicious taste of tea and toast. I remember sitting down at the little green wooden table I had been given for Christmas that year with my tea and toast. I'm certain that I must have brewed the tea myself, and I can only assume that the way I did it was to put a pan of water on the stove, add loose tea leaves to it and wait until it got dark enough. I probably then poured the tea through a tea strainer into my cup and set it on my little green table. And although I can't picture it, who knows but what I poured a bit of milk into a cream pitcher and took the sugar bowl to my table also. And do you know what? I have the feeling that I took the electric toaster along to the table as well as a loaf of bread and the butter dish. What I really remember is the delicious smell of the warm toast fresh from the toaster, the butter melting on it and then the delight of dunking the buttered toast into my cup of tea that I had added milk and sugar into. No, I don't recall that I was having any sort of "tea party" that afternoon with my doll or with our dog Brownie, and I don't recall pretending that I was anywhere other than where I was just then--in our house on 81st Street in Niagara Falls. I don't believe I even knew that we were still living in the times of the Great Depression, I just recall that I savored every minute of it just sitting there all by myself with my tea and toast. However, I also remember that it was around that time (around 1939?) that I first became aware of an occasional airplane flying overhead and remembering looking up at it and wondering if it had bombs in it that it would drop on us. I guess that even as a little kid, I paid attention to the news on the radio that my parents listened to. I guess I had heard of what was going on in Europe at the time. I have a feeling that I had heard that Germany had invaded Poland. But for the moment I still had my afternoon of tea and toast and with that, there was nothing wrong in the entire world.

Dear Folks, Thinking about tea, I can only picture it now packaged up nice and neat into tea bags. When I was growing up there wasn't any such thing as tea bags, only loose tea leaves. With loose tea you really knew how to brew up a good pot of tea. You got the tea kettle boiling, got out the tea pot and when the water was boiling nicely you poured some of it into the tea pot to take the chill off it. After you had put the tea kettle back on the stove to let it boil some more, you dumped the hot water out of the tea pot, got out your canister of tea leaves and measured the right amount into the tea pot. Poured the boiling water over them and let them brew as long as you wanted to--a short while for weak tea and a much longer time for good old strong tea. When it was to your liking, you took out a tea cup and saucer and your tea strainer. You poured the tea through the tea strainer and filled up your cup. Add some milk and/or sugar and that was REAL tea. I've tried to duplicate the taste of tea brewed with loose tea leaves but for the longest time, I just couldn't come up with a similar taste using tea bags. vee

Dear Louise, I just got off the phone tonight with Sue Diez telling her about your interest in the Diez family. She'll be getting in touch with you because she knows all of the family members you mentioned and she'd love to compare notes with you. I'm glad I could bring the two of you together. vee ----- Original Message ----- From: <conachie@rochester.rr.com> To: <NYNIAGAR-FOLKS-L@rootsweb.com> Sent: Friday, April 15, 2005 9:56 AM Subject: [FOLKS] Dietz > Vee > After I read your posting I realized I mis-spoke. One of my Uncle > Louie sisters was not named Sue but called Suzie. I forget which one. I > think the one married to Carl Black. I have his obituary but all his > sisters are named by their husbands's names. I know one was Barbara and I > think she was married to Canfield, but not sure. One was Winnie and I > don't remember the other one. Only brothers I remember are Russell and > Dalton (Red). Edith Swick was my aunt, my mother's sister. I probably > knew or met Sue's father-in-law. My Uncle used to take me to visit but I > really only remember his sisters, they were always so jovial. I have a > few pictures if Sue is interested, you can put her in touch with me. > > Louise > >

Vee After I read your posting I realized I mis-spoke. One of my Uncle Louie sisters was not named Sue but called Suzie. I forget which one. I think the one married to Carl Black. I have his obituary but all his sisters are named by their husbands's names. I know one was Barbara and I think she was married to Canfield, but not sure. One was Winnie and I don't remember the other one. Only brothers I remember are Russell and Dalton (Red). Edith Swick was my aunt, my mother's sister. I probably knew or met Sue's father-in-law. My Uncle used to take me to visit but I really only remember his sisters, they were always so jovial. I have a few pictures if Sue is interested, you can put her in touch with me. Louise

Dear Folks, My niece Deb called me from her 18-wheeler truck tonight. She was somewhere in Missouri and I don't know if she was on her way back home or whether she had some place else to pick up a load or deliver a load. It's been some time since we had a chat and tonight we had a real long one. She let me know what's been happening to her and I let her know what I've been doing. She told me that she was in the process of putting together a cookbook. Well that didn't surprise me at all especially since she's already put together a marvelous one for her kids and friends. However, this one will be very different and very unique. It will be a cookbook of recipes for truck drivers! She told me that she had recently purchase a small oven that she could plug into her truck. It's about the size of a bread box. She said that she's been cooking up the most delicious dinners in it. Everything from lasagna to spare ribs with barbeque sauce to chicken cordon blue. She said that she had a problem with the chicken cordon blue in that it requires a toothpick to hold together the chicken wrapped around ham and cheese. But she solved the problem by going into her truck supplies and pulling out some sort of wire that's commonly used by truckers. She stuck the wire into the rolled up chicken and then cut the long end off with a sharp knife. She also said that when a recipe calls for a certain measurement such as 1/2 cup, she's putting it in truckers' language such as fill up your coffee mug half way. She's been cooking up dishes by putting them into a throw-away aluminum bread loaf pan and covering it up with another overturned bread loaf pan. From long experience, Deb has known that truckers get awfully tired of fast foods at truck stops and knows that a number of them have culinary skills they can't use on the road. Therefore, she's calling to their attention the small oven and will be giving them recipes they can cook up themselves while they're on the road. So if you know of any long-distance truckers who are longing for home cooked meals that they can prepare themselves, just let me know and I'll pass the word on to Deb. Now is that a unique cook book or what? vee

Oh dear Evelyn, You and Mark can count on my prayers for him and your whole family. vee ----- Original Message ----- From: "evelyn" <ebcooper@copper.net> To: <NYNIAGAR-FOLKS-L@rootsweb.com> Sent: Thursday, April 14, 2005 11:19 AM Subject: [FOLKS] An update on my son, Mark > Hello all my family of folks > > Just got off the phone with my son, Mark. He is back in the hospital > because of an infection that the doctors do not know where nor how he got > it. I (and I know he) would appreciate any of you to pray for him. > > Most sincerely > > Evelyn > >

Louise said, > Vee - When I read your posting about meeting up with Sue Dietz it stirred > a lot of memories. My Aunt was married to Louis Dietz and he also had a > sister Sue but she would not still be living. I suppose this Sue could be > a relative or married to a relative especially if she lives around Porter > or Ransomville. I loved my Uncle Louie and always wished he was my > father. Stirred up good memories. Dear Louise, I checked my Dietz/Diez files and found a Louis Edward Diez (born 1901), son of Frederick Diez and Marie Parks. But no sister by the name of Sue. Louis married Edith M. Swick. The Sue Diez (born 1951) that I've been talking with married Raymond Diez (born 1951), son of Kenneth Diez and Eleanor Straughn whose parents were John Frederick Diez and Edna W. Jeddo. If you're curious how your Uncle Louis fit into the Dietz family, just let me know. Sue has researched the Dietz family thoroughly and would love to make a connection. vee

Wow, did you ever hit the nail on the head! Yes, Julie London could really sing a sad song with such feeling with her soft voice that it had to affect you. vee ----- Original Message ----- From: <Snow689@aol.com> To: <NYNIAGAR-FOLKS-L@rootsweb.com> Sent: Thursday, April 14, 2005 1:37 AM Subject: Re: [FOLKS] "Cry Me a River" > <<Folks, I don't know why that song sung by Julie London affected me so > much >>> > > Because Julie London sang it with the perfect tones for it. You wrote the > words in the email, but as I read them, I could hear her singing it in my > head.... > >