Answer: When a teenager of going to a dance on New Year's Eve. After I was married, we would listen to the New Year coming in on the radio till we got a TV. Sometimes we went to a dance with our friends.
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
Mom Share Your Life with Me - December 31
Question: What special memories do you have of New Year's Eve or New Year's Day?
Answer: When a teenager of going to a dance on New Year's Eve. After I was married, we would listen to the New Year coming in on the radio till we got a TV. Sometimes we went to a dance with our friends.
Answer: When a teenager of going to a dance on New Year's Eve. After I was married, we would listen to the New Year coming in on the radio till we got a TV. Sometimes we went to a dance with our friends.
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
Mom Share Your Life with Me - December 30
Question: Did you ever make New Year's resolutions?
Answer: Yes
Answer: Yes
Monday, December 29, 2014
Mom Share Your Life with Me - December 29
Question: Is there anything else that you would like me to know about my childhood?
Answer: You didn't like to play with dolls. You were a good baby and grew up to be a very special young lady, a super daughter and a super Mom and Grandma.
Answer: You didn't like to play with dolls. You were a good baby and grew up to be a very special young lady, a super daughter and a super Mom and Grandma.
You can see from this picture of Joyce and me and that I didn't much care for dolls. Mine is on the ground while Joyce is loving holding her doll.
Sunday, December 28, 2014
Mom Share Your Life with Me - December 28
Question: Is there anything you would like me to know about your childhood?
Answer: I was very lucky to have such wonderful parents who loved me and helped me to be who I am today. It was neat to find out I had 2 families-Daddy Frank and my own brothers and sisters besides the ones I was raised with and to be loved by them all. how blessed I have been.
Answer: I was very lucky to have such wonderful parents who loved me and helped me to be who I am today. It was neat to find out I had 2 families-Daddy Frank and my own brothers and sisters besides the ones I was raised with and to be loved by them all. how blessed I have been.
Front Row: Atha, Franklin DH and Jim Proctor
Back Row: George, Bill, Annie Caroline and Bessie Proctor.
Mother's family
Saturday, December 27, 2014
Mom Share Your Life with Me - December 27
Question: Do you remember celebrating any special wedding anniversaries of your parents or grandparents?
Answer: Lois, and I went to Tooele, Utah, on a bus from Rigby, Idaho to help celebrate the parents who raised me, George and Annie Proctor-Dad and Mom- 50th wedding anniversary at their home in Tooele, Utah.
Answer: Lois, and I went to Tooele, Utah, on a bus from Rigby, Idaho to help celebrate the parents who raised me, George and Annie Proctor-Dad and Mom- 50th wedding anniversary at their home in Tooele, Utah.
Front Row: Barry Formo, Lois Cook, Bruce Proctor, Ted Whitehouse, Danalyn Whitehouse, Rozella Proctor, LeAnne Formo, Judy Proctor, Sue Proctor
Middle Row: Patricia Proctor, Dorothy Proctor, George K. Proctor, Annie L. Proctor, Shirley Fay Brough holding Dennie Brough, Jack Brough, Shelby Formo, Inez Whitehouse, Jennie S. Proctor, Elwood Proctor.
Back Row: Max K. Proctor, Donald K. Proctor, Ethel P. Formo, Walter Formo, Ruth P Cook, Dan Whitehouse.
Friday, December 26, 2014
Christmas Day in the Morning
I wanted to share with you all my very favorite Christmas story.
Christmas Day
In The Morning
By
Pearl S. Buck
He woke suddenly and completely. It was four o'clock, the hour at which his father had always called him to get up and help with the milking. Strange how the habits of his youth clung to him still! Fifty years ago, and his father had been dead for thirty years, and yet he waked at four o'clock in the morning. He had trained himself to turn over and go to sleep, but this morning it was Christmas, he did not try to sleep.
Why did he feel so awake tonight? He slipped back in time, as he did so easily nowadays. He was fifteen years old and still on his father's farm. He loved his father. He had not known it until one day a few days before Christmas, when he had overheard what his father was saying to his mother.
"Mary, I hate to call Rob in the mornings. He's growing so fast and he needs his sleep. If you could see how he sleeps when I go in to wake him up! I wish I could manage alone."
"Well, you can't, Adam." His mother's voice was brisk. "Besides, he isn't a child anymore. It's time he took his turn."
"Yes," his father said slowly. "But I sure do hate to wake him."
When he heard these words, something in him spoke: his father loved him! He had never thought of that before, taking for granted the tie of their blood. Neither his father nor his mother talked about loving their children--they had no time for such things. There was always so much to do on the farm.
Now that he knew his father loved him, there would be no loitering in the mornings and having to be called again. He got up after that, stumbling blindly in his sleep, and pulled on his clothes, his eyes shut, but he got up.
And then on the night before Christmas, that year when he was fifteen, he lay for a few minutes thinking about the next day. They were poor, and most of the excitement was in the turkey they had raised themselves and mince pies his mother made. His sisters sewed presents and his mother and father always bought him something he needed, not only a warm jacket, maybe, but something more, such as a book. And he saved and bought them each something, too.
He wished, that Christmas when he was fifteen, he had a better present for his father. As usual he had gone to the ten-cent store and bought a tie. It had seemed nice enough until he lay thinking the night before Christmas. He looked out of his attic window, the stars were bright.
"Dad," he had once asked when he was a little boy, "What is a stable?"
"It's just a barn," his father had replied, "like ours."
Then Jesus had been born in a barn, and to a barn the shepherds had come...
The thought struck him like a silver dagger. Why should he not give his father a special gift too, out there in the barn? He could get up early, earlier than four o'clock, and he could creep into the barn and get all the milking done. He'd do it alone, milk and clean up, and then when his father went in to start the milking he'd see it all done. And he would know who had done it. He laughed to himself as he gazed at the stars. It was what he would do, and he musn't sleep too sound.
He must have waked twenty times, scratching a match each time to look at his old watch -- midnight, and half past one, and then two o'clock.
At a quarter to three he got up and put on his clothes. He crept downstairs, careful of the creaky boards, and let himself out. The cows looked at him, sleepy and surprised. It was early for them, too.
He had never milked all alone before, but it seemed almost easy. He kept thinking about his father's surprise. His father would come in and get him, saying that he would get things started while Rob was getting dressed. He'd go to the barn, open the door, and then he'd go get the two big empty milk cans. But they wouldn't be waiting or empty, they'd be standing in the milk-house, filled.
"What the--," he could hear his father exclaiming.
He smiled and milked steadily, two strong streams rushing into the pail, frothing and fragrant.
The task went more easily than he had ever known it to go before. Milking for once was not a chore. It was something else, a gift to his father who loved him. He finished, the two milk cans were full, and he covered them and closed the milk-house door carefully, making sure of the latch.
Back in his room he had only a minute to pull off his clothes in the darkness and jump into bed, for he heard his father up. He put the covers over his head to silence his quick breathing. The door opened.
"Rob!" His father called. "We have to get up, son, even if it is Christmas."
"Aw-right," he said sleepily.
The door closed and he lay still, laughing to himself. In just a few minutes his father would know. His dancing heart was ready to jump from his body.
The minutes were endless -- ten, fifteen, he did not know how many -- and he heard his father's footsteps again. The door opened and he lay still.
"Rob!"
"Yes, Dad--"
His father was laughing, a queer sobbing sort of laugh.
"Thought you'd fool me, did you?" His father was standing by his bed, feeling for him, pulling away the cover.
"It's for Christmas, Dad!"
He found his father and clutched him in a great hug. He felt his father's arms go around him. It was dark and they could not see each other's faces.
"Son, I thank you. Nobody ever did a nicer thing--"
"Oh, Dad, I want you to know -- I do want to be good!" The words broke from him of their own will. He did not know what to say. His heart was bursting with love.
He got up and pulled on his clothes again and they went down to the Christmas tree. Oh what a Christmas, and how his heart had nearly burst again with shyness and pride as his father told his mother and made the younger children listen about how he, Rob, had got up all by himself.
"The best Christmas gift I ever had, and I'll remember it, son every year on Christmas morning, so long as I live."
They had both remembered it, and now that his father was dead, he remembered it alone: that blessed Christmas dawn when, alone with the cows in the barn, he had made his first gift of true love.
This Christmas he wanted to write a card to his wife and tell her how much he loved her, it had been a long time since he had really told her, although he loved her in a very special way, much more than he ever had when they were young. He had been fortunate that she had loved him. Ah, that was the true joy of life, the ability to love. Love was still alive in him, it still was.
It occurred to him suddenly that it was alive because long ago it had been born in him when he knew his father loved him. That was it: Love alone could awaken love. And he could give the gift again and again.This morning, this blessed Christmas morning, he would give it to his beloved wife. He could write it down in a letter for her to read and keep forever. He went to his desk and began his love letter to his wife: My dearest love...
Such a happy, happy Christmas!
He woke suddenly and completely. It was four o'clock, the hour at which his father had always called him to get up and help with the milking. Strange how the habits of his youth clung to him still! Fifty years ago, and his father had been dead for thirty years, and yet he waked at four o'clock in the morning. He had trained himself to turn over and go to sleep, but this morning it was Christmas, he did not try to sleep.
Why did he feel so awake tonight? He slipped back in time, as he did so easily nowadays. He was fifteen years old and still on his father's farm. He loved his father. He had not known it until one day a few days before Christmas, when he had overheard what his father was saying to his mother.
"Mary, I hate to call Rob in the mornings. He's growing so fast and he needs his sleep. If you could see how he sleeps when I go in to wake him up! I wish I could manage alone."
"Well, you can't, Adam." His mother's voice was brisk. "Besides, he isn't a child anymore. It's time he took his turn."
"Yes," his father said slowly. "But I sure do hate to wake him."
When he heard these words, something in him spoke: his father loved him! He had never thought of that before, taking for granted the tie of their blood. Neither his father nor his mother talked about loving their children--they had no time for such things. There was always so much to do on the farm.
Now that he knew his father loved him, there would be no loitering in the mornings and having to be called again. He got up after that, stumbling blindly in his sleep, and pulled on his clothes, his eyes shut, but he got up.
And then on the night before Christmas, that year when he was fifteen, he lay for a few minutes thinking about the next day. They were poor, and most of the excitement was in the turkey they had raised themselves and mince pies his mother made. His sisters sewed presents and his mother and father always bought him something he needed, not only a warm jacket, maybe, but something more, such as a book. And he saved and bought them each something, too.
He wished, that Christmas when he was fifteen, he had a better present for his father. As usual he had gone to the ten-cent store and bought a tie. It had seemed nice enough until he lay thinking the night before Christmas. He looked out of his attic window, the stars were bright.
"Dad," he had once asked when he was a little boy, "What is a stable?"
"It's just a barn," his father had replied, "like ours."
Then Jesus had been born in a barn, and to a barn the shepherds had come...
The thought struck him like a silver dagger. Why should he not give his father a special gift too, out there in the barn? He could get up early, earlier than four o'clock, and he could creep into the barn and get all the milking done. He'd do it alone, milk and clean up, and then when his father went in to start the milking he'd see it all done. And he would know who had done it. He laughed to himself as he gazed at the stars. It was what he would do, and he musn't sleep too sound.
He must have waked twenty times, scratching a match each time to look at his old watch -- midnight, and half past one, and then two o'clock.
At a quarter to three he got up and put on his clothes. He crept downstairs, careful of the creaky boards, and let himself out. The cows looked at him, sleepy and surprised. It was early for them, too.
He had never milked all alone before, but it seemed almost easy. He kept thinking about his father's surprise. His father would come in and get him, saying that he would get things started while Rob was getting dressed. He'd go to the barn, open the door, and then he'd go get the two big empty milk cans. But they wouldn't be waiting or empty, they'd be standing in the milk-house, filled.
"What the--," he could hear his father exclaiming.
He smiled and milked steadily, two strong streams rushing into the pail, frothing and fragrant.
The task went more easily than he had ever known it to go before. Milking for once was not a chore. It was something else, a gift to his father who loved him. He finished, the two milk cans were full, and he covered them and closed the milk-house door carefully, making sure of the latch.
Back in his room he had only a minute to pull off his clothes in the darkness and jump into bed, for he heard his father up. He put the covers over his head to silence his quick breathing. The door opened.
"Rob!" His father called. "We have to get up, son, even if it is Christmas."
"Aw-right," he said sleepily.
The door closed and he lay still, laughing to himself. In just a few minutes his father would know. His dancing heart was ready to jump from his body.
The minutes were endless -- ten, fifteen, he did not know how many -- and he heard his father's footsteps again. The door opened and he lay still.
"Rob!"
"Yes, Dad--"
His father was laughing, a queer sobbing sort of laugh.
"Thought you'd fool me, did you?" His father was standing by his bed, feeling for him, pulling away the cover.
"It's for Christmas, Dad!"
He found his father and clutched him in a great hug. He felt his father's arms go around him. It was dark and they could not see each other's faces.
"Son, I thank you. Nobody ever did a nicer thing--"
"Oh, Dad, I want you to know -- I do want to be good!" The words broke from him of their own will. He did not know what to say. His heart was bursting with love.
He got up and pulled on his clothes again and they went down to the Christmas tree. Oh what a Christmas, and how his heart had nearly burst again with shyness and pride as his father told his mother and made the younger children listen about how he, Rob, had got up all by himself.
"The best Christmas gift I ever had, and I'll remember it, son every year on Christmas morning, so long as I live."
They had both remembered it, and now that his father was dead, he remembered it alone: that blessed Christmas dawn when, alone with the cows in the barn, he had made his first gift of true love.
This Christmas he wanted to write a card to his wife and tell her how much he loved her, it had been a long time since he had really told her, although he loved her in a very special way, much more than he ever had when they were young. He had been fortunate that she had loved him. Ah, that was the true joy of life, the ability to love. Love was still alive in him, it still was.
It occurred to him suddenly that it was alive because long ago it had been born in him when he knew his father loved him. That was it: Love alone could awaken love. And he could give the gift again and again.This morning, this blessed Christmas morning, he would give it to his beloved wife. He could write it down in a letter for her to read and keep forever. He went to his desk and began his love letter to his wife: My dearest love...
Such a happy, happy Christmas!
THE
END
Mom Share Your Life with Me - December 26
Question: Share any other Christmas memory.
Answer: Sup time was it when I was younger, growing up, after I was married and had children and now meeting together as a family and having a party near Christmas.
Answer: Sup time was it when I was younger, growing up, after I was married and had children and now meeting together as a family and having a party near Christmas.
Mother and Dad with grandkids
Thursday, December 25, 2014
Mom Share Your Life with Me - December 25
Question: Tell about the most memorable gifts I have given you.
Answer: Lots of love, books-I love to read-, photo albums, touch lamp, and many others. I just can't remember them now. Being there for me and being one of my best friends and my sweetheart of a daughter.
Answer: Lots of love, books-I love to read-, photo albums, touch lamp, and many others. I just can't remember them now. Being there for me and being one of my best friends and my sweetheart of a daughter.
Joyce, Mother, and Me
Mom Share Your Life with Me - December 24
Question: Tell about the most memorable gifts you have given me.
Answer: All my love. (That truly was the most memorable and best gift anyone could receive. I love my Mother so much and I hope that she knows just how much. She was truly a remarkable Mother and I am so very happy that she is my Mother.)
Answer: All my love. (That truly was the most memorable and best gift anyone could receive. I love my Mother so much and I hope that she knows just how much. She was truly a remarkable Mother and I am so very happy that she is my Mother.)
Tuesday, December 23, 2014
Mom Share Your Life with Me - December 22-23
Question: Tell about Holiday celebrations at a relative's house during your childhood.
Answer: Mother didn't write anything here.
Question: Did your family go to a special church service at Christmas? Tell about it.
Answer: We had our Christmas program in our church at our Sacrament Meetings.
Answer: Mother didn't write anything here.
Question: Did your family go to a special church service at Christmas? Tell about it.
Answer: We had our Christmas program in our church at our Sacrament Meetings.
Sunday, December 21, 2014
Mom Share Your Life with Me - December 21
Question: Do you remember a "best" Christmas of childhood?
Answer: Seemed like all my Christmas were very special to me.
Answer: Seemed like all my Christmas were very special to me.
Saturday, December 20, 2014
Mom Share Your Life with Me - December 20
Question: Tell about your experiences with Santa Claus.
Answer: I remember him coming to our home in Montana, as Inez and I heard the bells as he came across our front porch. Mom said if we got out of bed there wouldn't be anything there for us, so we stayed in bed.
Answer: I remember him coming to our home in Montana, as Inez and I heard the bells as he came across our front porch. Mom said if we got out of bed there wouldn't be anything there for us, so we stayed in bed.
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