By Harvey Wike
When we moved onto our farm outside Fredericksburg, PA, the road past our house was an old dirt road.
I guess at times we could be called Hucksters, as we would load up our produce from the farm, take it to the town of Lebanon, PA, in a Dodge panel truck and sell the produce door to door.
Thoughts
If Jimmy cracks corn and no one cares, why is there a stupid song about him?
Why does Goofy stand erect while Pluto remains on all fours? They’re both dogs!
If Wyle E. Coyote had enough money to buy all that ACME crap, why didn’t he just buy dinner?
If electricity comes from electrons, does morality come from morons?
Common American Superstitions and Their Origins
By Jennifer Thompson
In remembering the black-eyed pea and cornbread tradition of New Years Day, I realized that for years now I have been reminded to do that by my family for good luck. I asked a friend of mine who had come up with that why it was supposed to bring good luck. He replied that he had no idea. And so this got me thinking of several common superstitions and their origins.
The Place Where I Feel Most At Home And What Makes It A Special Place For Me
by Amy Finkle
The place I feel most at home in is at my grandmothers house. I know it sounds silly that I wouldn’t pick my own house, but at my grandparents we do such fun things. First off, they live on a farm and have 26 acres of open forest and so we go walking in the woods. In the woods there is a pond and a cabin next to it that my pop built. In the summer we sleep over there and go fishing.
By Linda Clark
This is how I became a member of the Wike-Clark family.
By Heather Stergos
As a child nothing spoke of the magic of Christmas like my grandparents house. I can still clearly remember the thrill of pulling up the snowy drive, for it seems like it was always snowy when we arrived at the big house for the holidays. My grandparents lived in a large three-story house built in 1908. At any point during the year it was a magical place for a child, filled with all sorts of treasures, but it seemed especially so during the Christmas season.
By Helen V Lundt
(Myra and Andrew Riley in front of the Christmas tree at the Seven Stars residence)
By Polly Mazariegos
All of my childhood Christmas memories are full of fun and food, except on the occasion when I had such a bad case of bronchitis and had such a sore throat I did not want to come down for Christmas morning.
By Harvey Wike
When we moved onto our farm outside Fredericksburg, PA, the road past our house was an old dirt road. I guess at times we could be called Hucksters, as we would load up our produce from the farm, take it to the town of Lebanon, PA, in a Dodge panel truck and sell the produce door to door.
By Judy Goldman
I grew up on a farm in the heart of central New Jersey. We lived in a quiet, rural area. It wasn’t that bad, though. Being on a farm had its advantages, although it wasn’t really much to speak of, as farms go. My grandparents aging seemed to be inversely proportional to the number of animals we had. During this particular December, the chickens and goats were long gone and all that remained were three dogs and an ever-increasing number of stray cats that somehow managed to make their way to the farmhouse.