Kesti Writes Page Two

"Gramma Had Mice"

When I was about seven years old, I was sleeping upstairs at my Gramma's house. In the middle of the night, I woke up and I was so thirsty I thought I would die. It was dark upstairs and scary. My Gramma was sleeping in the next room, but I didn't want to turn on a light and wake her because she always worked so hard. She baked bread every third day. Can you imagine?

Well, anyhow, I started down the stairs, hanging tightly to the railing. I couldn't see a thing.

When I got to the bottom, I ran fast to the kitchen. Half way there I stepped on something and heard a little squeal. Then I slid. Ewwwwww, I had stepped on a mouse and it bled and I was slipping in its blood. I forgot all about how thirsty I was and quickly went back upstairs to my bed. I wiped my foot on the rug. ewww...mice blood on my foot. I nearly puked. The next morning, Gramma saw the dead mouse lying on her kitchen floor.

She looked puzzled. I didn't say a word!

Posted May 1, 2007

~Birch Bark Greeting Cards~

My oldest sister has all of the artistic talent for crafts and drawing in my family. She also has beautiful hand writing...She married a man who is in the lumber business and when she saw all of the birch trees getting sent to the mill, she decided to cut off the best pieces of birch bark and make cards out of them. She never sells any, just gives them to family on holidays or birthdays. They are so beautiful. I noticed there is a place online where you can order Birch bark squares. I found this link where you can buy bark:

http://www.barkcanoe.com/materials.htm

For those of you who have drawing or painting ability, this could be a fun hobby.

Posted May 1, 2007

"THE BIG ONE THAT DIDN'T GET AWAY"

My Gramma lived on a farm bordering a big spring fed lake. She owned a big part of the lake shore.

In the summer, myself and a lot of the farm kids who lived around there would go to the docks where the cabin people lived and fished during the week when they weren't there.

They didn't care if we used their docks as long as we didn't leave our bait or fish on their property. One day a huge huge fish was caught by one of the boys. He almost got it to shore so we saw it, but it got away. Now all of us wanted to catch that fish. We tried and tried for two weeks to catch him. He always got away as he was so strong. One day, I decided to go to the docks by myself as I wanted that fish so badly. I took my stringer (optimist) my pole and a big can of worms. I put about four worms on my hook and threw out the line. I didn't wait long and BAM...the bobber plunged under the water and I had a fish. I knew it was the "big one" as my pole was bending and I had all I could do to hang on. I ran along the dock to the shore dragging the monster. Then I grabbed just the line and dragged him on shore. He got off the hook so I shoved him with my shoe trying to keep him on the grass. Finally I got my stringer into his mouth. Then I knew I had him. OH...he was so big! I could hardly carry him as I headed for my Grammas. I was running and panting down the lakeside trail when I looked up and a man was heading towards me. He stayed in the path. He said, "What kind of fish is that?" I said, "I don't know, but we have been trying to catch him for weeks." The guy offered to buy him from me. I could only think of showing the fish to Gramma and the neighbor kids. I continued along the path and then had to carry him up a huge hill. I was so excited when I showed it to my Gramma that I thought I would never catch my breath again. Gramma said, "That is the biggest carp I have ever seen." She got me an old round wash tub to put him in and we filled it with water. He started swimming around. Soon the kids came to go fishing. I proudly told them I had caught him.

I was waiting for praise and excitement. Instead, they all were angry with me. Some went home without going fishing. Later when I told my Gramma a guy wanted to buy it, she said ,

"You should have sold it."

So much for a happy ending.

May 2, 2007

"A Noise in the Night"

The home my parents lived in when I was young had a double living room with an arch in between. There were ten windows with blinds. Mom never shut the blinds in there as I guess it was just too much work. One night when my two older sisters went out with their boyfriends on a double date, my little brother and I found some play blocks and built a tall straight stack on one side of the arch. We tucked the last block in and made a nice solid

"pole". We were quite proud of our accomplishment so we asked Mom if we could leave it up for awhile. She said it was okay. At about 2 AM my sisters arrived home. It was a moon lit night. They were whispering so as not to wake us up. As soon as they shut the door, they saw the "pole" . It was outlined in the moonlight coming in through the blinds.

One of them took a hold of it. whispering to the other one, "What the heck is this?" She moved it slightly and all of the blocks came crashing down on the hardwood floor. The noise scared them, they screamed and woke up the household.

Everyone laughed when we found out what was going on.

We couldn't find the blocks after that. I still wonder where they went.

"My Brother, the Menace"

It was hard to love my little brother, but I always did. At the end of our block, there was a family of all boys. Eight of them. Four were older, then a gap of about five years, then four younger. They had a bad reputation for being very, very, mean. My brother liked hanging around them and my Mom didn't like it and neither did I. Often times my brother would run home with the four youngest chasing him. They wanted to beat him to a pulp. I was usually in the yard with my friends and my brother would say, "Help me Kesti, they are after me again." Seconds later, there they were...my brother huddled behind me. I would bravely say, "Get out of our yard and leave him alone!" Every ime I said it, they would stop dead in their tracks. They would glare at my brother. I put my hands on my hips and acted like I wasn't afraid. (Inside I was shaking like a leaf) They glared at him for awhile and always turned around and went back home. I never found out what he did to antagonize them, but it happened quite often. The youngest of them was nicknamed "YiYi" It was fun to say it.

YiYi.....lol.

May 3, 2007

"The Big Gulp"

My Gramma was very religious, but my Grampa would never go to church.

Unlike his parents who went to church every Sunday and many other times

for meetings.

My Gramma and Grampa, when they were first married had many arguments about

beer. She said NO. He said Yes. She finally set a limit of one beer a day for him.

"Go Gramma" haha.

When he would come in tired and sweaty, it would be time for his one beer. Gramma was really upset about it even though she had allowed it, so she would leave the room.

My little brother, myself and my sister who was two years older than me would watch.

First Grampa would get out his beer glass, crack an egg, put it into the glass, then he would open one bottle and slowly pour in the beer. An inch of foam would come to the top.

Grampa would drink it down without stopping. When he got to the egg, he would gulp.

You could picture it going down his throat.

Ewwwwww...every time I would feel nauseated.

I wonder if that is why drinking never appealed to me?

May 3, 2007

"Lutefisk.......No Thank You!"

Coming from an all Swedish heritage, I wasn't able to escape the dreaded

"LUTEFISK"

Oh My Word....how can I describe what I feel about it?

EVERY Christmas Eve...It was there ruining my life.

It was the only time my Mom would make it, thank God.

It was TRADITION!

Yukka ....She would make all of us put some on our plates and I would have to

push the rest of my food away from it lest it become contaminated. I could still

smell it tho. Ewwwww. Mom would always say, "No opening your presents until

you eat your lutefisk." My brother and sister would somehow choke theirs down.

I wouldn't eat it. If I never got any presents, I would not eat it.

Same argument every year. I would be left sitting at the table all alone while they

waited for me to eat my lutefisk.

After about a half hour which seemed like eternity to me, my Mom would say,

"I will go see if Kesti has finished."

She knew dang well that I would never eat it.

She would come into the dining room, grab my plate, motion me to not say anything,

and quickly dump the horrid stuff into the trash.

Then she would take my hand, smile and bring me to the living room where the tree

was all lit up. We would proceed to open gifts.

It happened every year. Lutefisk ruined my Christmases.

I still hate it.

Only one of us six children ate it as adults.

Footnote: Lutefisk is made by soaking Fish in LYE . It takes two weeks to make it

from scratch. Can you imagine? LYE? Are people crazy or what?

No wonder I wouldn't eat it!

May 4, 2007

" Pigs 'N Berries"

When my Mom's parents died, they left the farm by the lake to their children. My Mom wanted the house for a summer place for us so she bought it from the Estate. She always wanted to keep in touch with her early days. I stayed with my Mom in the "summer house" during the summer, and my two siblings stayed in town with my Dad.

My three older siblings were grown up, on their own and working.

Mom and I would go Raspberry picking almost every day in season. She knew where all of the patches were in the woods along the road. We would pack a lunch and away we would go with our long sleeved shirts and our hair wrapped in bandanas so not to get caught in the bushes. We looked weird enough but then about a half hour after we found the patch, our two pet pigs would show up all happy to see us. On fridays when we were walking down the road towards the farm, after we finished picking berries, until all of our containers were full, with the pigs behind us, the weekend Cabin people would begin coming down the road. I wanted to hide in the bushes. I was fourteen. My Mom said, "Don't be silly, Kesti, we have nothing to be ashamed of, (even tho some of the people pointed and laughed) , we have been out picking berries, are dressed for the job and the pigs just like to follow us." I held my head high and just smiled at the people who made comments about us. I'll bet they wished they could have tasted all of the wonderful things my Mom made from the berries. We canned 100 quarts of sauce one month. The two pet pigs were the runts of the litter so we had to give them special care. They acted like dogs but with more antics in mind. We butchered the other six pigs and the sow in the fall, but gave the two pet pigs away to a local farmer who promised to not butcher them.

(at least that was the story I was told)

(Yeah right!)

May 4, 2007

"FOLLOW THOSE PORKERS"

After following us to the raspberry patches, our two little pet pigs decided to go down the

road alone. They were checking out the corn fields. When we woke up and

found out they were missing, Mom decided it would be my job to go hunt for them.

It had rained the night before so I could follow their tracks on the dirt road.

I took a stick with me and followed them for two long miles. They had

made excursions into the corn fields on either side of the road, came back out and kept going.

I finally saw their tracks lead up a driveway of a farm owned a Mr. Solstrom, He went to school with my Mom, but I had never met him. There were about five guys there. I wasn't sure if they were his neighbors, friends, or his sons. I shyly said,

"I think my pigs are here." One older guy said, "How do you know that?" I said, "Because I followed their tracks." He motioned over to his 500 pigs in this gigantic wooden pen and asked, "Which ones are yours?" I was ready to cry as all of the guys broke out laughing. I said, "They each have a cross painted on their backs." Then they really laughed. (My Mom must have known those two escape artists would do this) I turned around so they couldn't see the tears streaming down my cheeks. The youngest boy was about my age. His Dad sent him into the pen to get my pigs. When they came out, I took my stick and chased them down the driveway. The boy gave me a look of pity and I hurried away.

The guys thought the whole event was funny. I didn't think it was funny at all.

I was so angry with those pigs. When they tried to veer off into any corn fields I threatened them with shouts and the stick. That made them stay on the road. I told my Mom what happened and also said I was never chasing those pigs down the road again. The pigs never did it again, so I must have convinced them that their lives were in real danger.

May 4, 2007

"Fifteen Baby Chicks"

This is a sad story, so don't read it if you don't like sad stories.

One summer on the farm, I found where one of our hens had made a big nest in our

apple/plum orchard. I was so happy to see it. I went every day to check on the progress.

I could see lots of eggs in the nest. The hen had trouble spreading her wings to cover them all. She didn't like me watching her and would scold me. She turned each egg over once a day and I would squat down and watch. It seemed to take forever for those eggs to hatch. She finally got used to me and quit scolding. I felt like I was the chicks adopted Mom.

One day when I arrived, I could hear peeping noises. I was so excited! I stayed and watched until they all were out and dried off. I had a hard time counting them with the Mother huddled over them. Once she was ready, she got up and all of the cute little fluff balls followed her. Oh, it was just too adorable. I followed her around the yard all day.

The next day one of our mean pigs got out. He had burrowed under the fence. My Mom wasn't home to help me get him back into the pen. He would race past me and grab one of the chicks. I kicked him in the butt and the chick flew out. That only worked one time.

I had a stick and I would hit him and he would squeal , grab another chick, run a few feet and back again. The Mother hen tried to fluff her feathers to protect them but the pig lunged at her too. I was beside myself trying to help her, but that pig had a mission. I ran after him for two hours trying to help the hen get away but to no avail. That blankety blank pig ate every one of her cute fluffy babies. The Mother hen looked sad and bewildered.

I sat on a stump, totally exhausted, and cried until my Mom came home.

May 4, 2007

"The Scary Ghost"

I have read that chickens are as smart as dogs. One night when my Mom and I returned from an evening church service, we went into the dark farm house. Before we turned on any lights, I heard the weirdest sound coming from one of the big windows in the dining room.

I looked and saw a big white billowing thing, making the noise. I screamed. My Mom came running and said, "Stop screaming!" She was afraid of nothing, I swear. You will never guess what it was. The top window had broken in a large two window frame. My Mom had tacked a sheet over the edge on the inside so no bugs could get in. (My Dad would fix it when he came up for the weekend) All of the chickens had been spooked by something in the chicken coop, so they ran up to the house for help. They apparently flew at the sheet and started falling into the base of the sheet where she had tacked it to the bottom.

One after another every chicken had jumped in. When I saw it they were making weird noises and moving inside of the sheet (it looked like a ghost to me) lol.

My Mom felt of the moving sheet and said, "What the heck?"

then calmly went outside and picked each chicken up , scolded it , and each in turn ran quickly back to the coop.

They knew they were naughty.

I felt bad for them. Mom said it was a miracle they didn't suffocate each other.

May 4, 2007

"REFILL"

My little brother and I were at our farm, thirty five miles from any doctor, the day we

decided to use our squirt guns for a big water fight. We both went into the house to fill them and would shoot each other outside on this hot summer day. It was fun until my brother

decided to fill a quart jar to carry with him and fill it on the run. He was really

soaking me and I hollered at my Mom that he was "cheating". She just ignored me as always when my brother was doing things like this, (because he was the youngest) (spoiled brat) lol

He kept chasing me and I didn't have a chance to go in and get more water. I was running full speed when I heard a crash and a scream. The quart jar was glass. He had tripped and fell on a big rock, the broken jar had gashed a big Z shaped rip in his forearm (bottom tender side) and it was gushing blood. Oh dear!

My Mom grabbed a white towel, pushed him into the car after she wrapped his arm.

Luckily my Dad was there as he drove as she held the towel on his bleeding arm.

The doctor gave him 27 stitches and a shot.

Mom said, "No more squirt guns!"

It was a relief to me. When he was even younger, she taught him to pull the tendons on the chicken legs when she butchered them so the claw would open and close.

He would chase me mercilessly round and round in our town home with that dang leg, with me begging my Mom to make him stop. She would half heartedly tell him to stop teasing me.

He never stopped. I am lucky to be alive. My heart raced for ages once he was too tired to chase me any longer.....sigh.

(I am not only a tattle tale, I am a cry baby)

These stories are revealing...haha.

May 5, 2007

"The Circle"

When I was five, I walked to school with my older sister but when I came home at

noon, there was no one in my neighborhood my age, so I walked home alone.

It was six long blocks but I didn't mind as there were lots of fun things to look at.

There was a big wall made of stone. It was flat on top with steps leading up and

some of the older children would walk on the edge. It was about five feet high and

held back the sloping edge where a big "mansion" rose above it.

(it looked like a "mansion" to me at the time)

One day, just after I had passed the "mansion", I saw dogs in a pack running towards me.

Oh my, they looked scary. They were big dogs too. I froze in my tracks and that is what

probably saved my life. There were seven dogs and they made a circle around me

and started barking. I was so afraid that I started screaming. The more I screamed, the more they barked. It seemed to go on for ages. Finally a guy came out of a house nearby.

He hollered," STOP THAT SCREAMING, I WORK NIGHTS AND I AM TRYING TO SLEEP!"

Then he slammed the door shut.

It is a good thing dogs can't understand English. They stopped barking at me and one dog started going down the road and the rest followed. I sobbed the rest of the way home.

My Mom called the police, but we never heard if they found the pack.

I was afraid to walk alone after that, but I had to.

God was watching over me. He always does.

Thank you again, Dear Father.

May 5, 2007

"Row, Row, Row, Your Boat"

I was twenty-three when this happened. I always loved to fish, so one Saturday,

my boyfriend Rick and I went fishing. We rented a boat and he didn't order one with

a motor since he had never used one and didn't want to look stupid in front of me.

(Please, Men, admit things, don't hide them!)

He was muscular so he had no trouble rowing and I sat back to enjoy the trip across the

huge bay. We had just dropped anchor and were going to begin fishing when this

huge storm came up out of no where. Oh MY....the sky turned a horrid evil

black and the clouds were churning. I pulled up the anchor and told him to start rowing.

The waves already had white caps on them as the wind was terrible. I was scared as

I can't swim. Just then we saw a boat with four guys coming towards us, the motor on full

speed. I breathed a sigh of relief. One of the guys hollered out, "Want a pull into shore?"

I smiled and opened my mouth to answer, when Rick in his "Mighty Macho

Wisdom" said, "No, thanks, we will be ok!"

I could not believe what I was hearing and started to say , "YES, WE DO!" when the surprised guy said, "OK Then" and took off. (ARE ALL MEN CRAZY OR WHAT?)

By this time our little boat was starting to rock and spin. I looked at Rick and said, "Head for that tiny island over there." I pointed and he started rowing. Oh My God! The lightning was

all over the place and the waves were churning. I don't know how he did it, but he

got us to that little island. There were so many branches near shore that he broke an oar in half trying to maneuver. I grabbed some branches and helped pull that boat up to shore.

We dragged the boat in far enough to put the anchor chain around a small tree.

We were soaking wet, shivering and sweating. The storm was in full force all around us.

We went into the thick trees and it was quiet in there. We scraped a space under the pine trees and built a fire. It wasn't raining there as the trees were too thick. Those flames felt good as the storm raged on. I was never so angry at anyone in my entire life. What the heck was

he thinking to refuse a tow to shore? He knew I was upset and he was very quiet.

We stayed there for an hour until the storm quit. It was very still afterwards. We shoved the boat into the water and he paddled it with one oar back to the lodge where we had rented it.

He had to pay for the broken oar.

(oh yes, I very carefully put out the fire and made sure it was soaked through and through before we left)

Did we date after that? "Well, Yes."

(we didn't go fishing together again, however)

Rick and I are still good friends.

May 6, 2007

'TONSIL TRAUMA TIME"

My Mom told us about when she had her tonsils out. I don't know why she told us

because when it came time to have mine out, I wouldn't do it.

She said she was always having sore throats and the Doctor said it was because her

tonsils were too big. What? Grampa and Gramma took her to the doctor and made arrangements

for her operation. The day arrived and she was very scared. Grampa and Gramma left her in the care of Nuns. It was a catholic hospital. (they weren't catholic) She had never seen a Nun before and looked warily at them. She finally asked one if she could ask the Doctor to see what he would use to take out her tonsils. One of them angrily said, "We will see!" She was lying on her side at the time when suddenly another one grabbed her and put something on her face...the other Nun held her down. She fought a good fight, smelled something like rubber, and finally went under. When she woke up she felt like she didn't have a throat.

It was just pain where her throat used to be.

She couldn't cry because it hurt too much. The Nuns let her go outside, sit on the hospital steps and wait for

my Gramma and Grampa to come and get her. They had promised her ice cream if she

was a "good girl". They gave her ice cream but it hurt when she swallowed it.

That story was repeated many times in our family.

Tonsils are there for a purpose.

Do you see why I began disliking Doctors and hospitals early in life?

May 6, 2007

"Pickled Pigs Feet"

Oh Noooooo. ewwwww.

My Dad doesn't like them. but my Mom loves them.

I think all dieters should have some in a jar to see when they open the fridge.

It would make dieting easy.

Pickled Herring is another gross food. (My Dad likes them)

My sister's husband likes fried brains.

It almost makes Lutefisk seem normal.

NOT!!

"Another Pig Story"

Oh my word, I seem to have a lot of stories about pigs. (or their feet, lol)

When my second oldest sister married, she bought a property close to the property my Mom

bought when the Estate was settled. She was going to show the family how

to PROPERLY raise animals. She had money to invest in good fences,

good feed, and all that was needed to run a farm. The problem was, she and her

husband didn't know a thing about farming.

They had the sow bred and when the piglets arrived, she was there in attendance

and the sow had so many, that she could see a big profit in the future.

When it was all over, she was tired and went to the house to shower and change.

Later she came back to see how they were doing.

The sow had eaten them all.

I guess they eat the afterbirth and this one just kept eating whatever was handy.

It is common in first time births I guess, and you have to take the babies away for

a little while or something. (I do not profess to be a farm girl)

My sister has many good stories about that failed venture.

Another sister of mine tried raising sheep on small acreage.

She has some really funny stories too.

(Hello, we are not farmers! It is not genetic!)

May 6, 2007

"Horse Pills"

This is today's story. A month ago, I found out about a woman

who had more energy than ten men. I found out that the only vitamin

she takes is a 1,000 mg Vitamin called Ester C.

I went out and bought some of course.

I opened the bottle and looked under the cotton ball.

WOW...those pills were HUGE!

I knew I couldn't swallow them and they were rock hard.

Today I poured the entire bottle in my Magic Bullet and used

the small flat blade and in a minute or so, I pulverized them into

a fine powder. Now I measure 1/2 teaspoon of the powder and

add it to my orange juice. It tasted good.

Now I am waiting for that BIG energy surge.

May 7, 2007

"Are Those Ester's Working?"

I think they are working! I am up two hours earlier than usual and feel wide awake!

I still want more energy!

This woman I spoke of is like the Energizer Bunny, she just goes and goes,

lifts heavy objects with ease, seems to be everywhere at once which

makes her employees cringe. I hope she isn't on steroids. ewwww

Just now thought of that.

It could be the Ester C, though, when you think of how many

things it did for Linus Pauling.

If you haven't read about him, here is a biography link.

I totally love Linus !

http://www.faqs.org/nutrition/Biographies/Pauling-Linus.html

Or his explanation of how important Vitamin C is to your body.

http://lpi.oregonstate.edu/infocenter/vitamins/vitaminC/

May 7, 2007

"THE COOKIE JAR"

This is a cute story about my nephew Kimmy. When he was only two, my sister

put a chair by the counter so she could reach a bowl on the very top shelf in her

cabinet. As soon as she had the bowl, she made a trip to the bathroom. Kimmy

climbed up on the chair and carefully took the top off of the cookie jar and when

my sister came back, caught him "red handed" with a cookie in each hand.

She said, "What are you doing?"

He showed her the cookies.

Then she said, "Why did you do that?"

He looked at her.

She repeated. "Why did you do that?"

He felt she wasn't going to stop with the question, so he said.

"The chair was there, and I was there."

She turned around so he couldn't see her cracking up, laughing.

She let him have both cookies.

May 7, 2007

"The Three Little Bunnies"

One morning when my Mom was visiting my sister and her three children for a week

she woke up to quite a surprise.

My sister was in the laundry room working and her three children were playing in the fenced in back yard. Mom was sleeping late.

Kimmy, who was now five, his little brother Michael, three, and two year old Lisa were playing when they discovered a rabbits nest. There were three baby bunnies hopping around in it.

They each took one and ran into the house, up the stairs to where their Gramma was sleeping.

They carefully put the bunnies on the bed next to her pillow. They stood beside the bed

waiting for her to see them. One bunny sniffed her nose and she woke up staring at

three little wild bunny faces. She jerked her head up and then she saw her three blue eyed, blonde, Grandchildren smiling in anticipation. She, half awake, said, "Where did you get these?" Kimmy said, "they have a nest in our yard, Gramma."

My Mom said, "You have to put them back right away."

Three little faces stopped smiling and each took a bunny and went down stairs.

She heard Lisa saying, "Gramma doesn't like bunnies."

My Mom felt terrible. She wasn't awake and she had not handled that too well.

What was a mother bunny thinking to make a nest in a fenced in yard where

three children played each day?

They must have lived as they ate my sisters Tulips to the ground the following year.

May 7, 2007

"Poor Bunny"

How strange, I just wrote this and posted it, when my friend called and said there was a

rabbit near the playground where her children played. He was lying on the ground

on his side and only his head and his eyes seemed to move. She told all the children

to stay away from the rabbit and called me on my cell phone. My husband went over

with a cage, picked up the rabbit and put it gently on a blanket in the cage. He drove to

the humane society and they took the wild bunny. I think he got hit by a car and ran

the short distance to the playground. At least he is getting help or has been put to sleep.

Poor Little guy. :(

(You are on page two)

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This page was created on April 29, 2007

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Attention!

I have had over ONE MILLION visitors to this, My AOL Site in the last nine years.

The counter kept reverting back to zero, but I kept my own records each week.

I have now attached my two sites together under one counter starting at 2000.

I started the new counter on March 15, 2007.

I hope I will not have any more trouble with counters.

Sincerely,

Kesti

Carp Fish