My ancestors were farmers. Just about all of 'em, and with just a few exceptions. Going back centuries, and in several different countries. Not sure how I ended up being such a city girl. Someone had to break the mold, I guess!
I recently found a photo in my Mom's collection of her maternal grandfather,
Lars Hansen Madsen (Grandpa Louie, to us), working out in the field with his team of eight horses. The photo is dated 1937, and it looks to me like this is on the land he owned in the Altamont Hills just west of Livermore, California.
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| Lars Hansen Madsen (1893-1971). Photo taken in 1937. |
Great Grandpa Louie was a dapper man, even when toiling on his land -- I just love the hat and pipe he's sporting. The sight of his pipe actually brings back old memories of how he smelled when I was a little girl.
Isn't it funny the things that jog our memory from our childhood? I remember so many wonderful things about my grandmother but the one not-so-wonderful thing I remember is that her fingers were yellow from holding a cigarette (I guess unfiltered) all those years :-(
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