As a kid, when we had to snap beans on the back porch, I remember sometimes the whole family would get involved. My Dad, who is a tease, used to always comment on a bean that was hard to "string"... Dad would say, "That's a tough one." We'd ask: "What's tough?" Dad: "Life." We'd ask: "What's Life?" Dad: "A magazine." We'd ask: "How much it cost?" Dad: "50 cents." We'd say: "Haven't got 50 cents." Dad: "That's tough..." Anyway, you get the idea. One of us would always chime in and play the game. Sometimes we'd go round and round with it while we were snapping those beans. And there always was at least a bushel of them it seemed. I'm sure my Dad was probably trying to make the work seem less tedious. Mostly though, it was an opportunity for our parents to talk about the old times, the stories, and the people they used to know. It was at times like this that I learned the names of great and great great grandparents, uncles, aunts, etc. Oral history is a lost art. When I take my kids to see their grandparents today, I encourage my parents to tell the stories so that my children can hear them. We seldom have the television on at Grampa's. Next time I'll tell you about my Granny threatening us that she'd sew us up with purple thread... Cheers! This is the most enjoyable list! S. Henrichsen