My Mom always said she wanted a houseful of children, but she only had the two of us. So how did I end up with such a large family? That is another story, for another day.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
It was a cold winter day in 1975. My mother had been doing laundry all day, even though she was due to give birth at any moment. It was December 6, and later that evening my future parents found themselves on a one-hour drive to Davis Memorial Hospital - the closest hospital to their house in Riverton - and it was snowing. Not just "oh isn't it pretty" snowglobe snow, but blinding blizzard-like snow. And of course, the windshield wipers on the car had broken, so my father was driving the car with his head out the driver's side window all the way to Elkins.
Later that evening, around 7:35pm, I was born - I came into the world screaming and I haven't shut up since. Here's a picture of me, several months later of course.
For 18 months, it was only my father, mother, and myself (along with Babe, the world's best milk cow - that baby fat on me is pure butter!) Then in June of '77, my parents brought this home:
Yep, that's my baby brother Matthew. At the time my mother went into labor with Matthew, my father was trying to pull Babe (the cow) out of the garden. Mom and I were standing in the door and Mom was yelling at Dad to let the cow alone, and get in the car (expletives deleted). Dad said, "At least its not snowing".
On the way there, it started pouring the rain. And the windshield wipers broke - again. So there they went, one hour over the mountains to Davis Memorial - with my father's head out the driver's side window.
Over the years, my Dad has said he should have known that the weather was a sign that the two of us would be trouble. Well, we aren't mean, just maybe a little ornery.
Like this scene here - where I'm helping make the cookies...
And Matthew is helping to eat them.
Of course you can see we always get along - as brothers do.Matthew's wedding, 2003