Sentimental Sunday: Grandpa John Bartram at the County Fair

Today is the last day of the annual Alameda County Fair in Pleasanton, California. Going to the fair has always been a family tradition for us. My sister and I used to bring our 4-H lambs to show and sell at the San Joaquin County Fair, and we loved going to the Alameda County Fair with our cousins when we were kids. My Grandpa John Bartram also enjoyed going to the fair each year, but not for the rides and games. He liked to bet on the ponies! I remember going to the fair with him as a kid, and he'd give us a bit of money for games and cotton candy while he'd head up to the horse racing stands. What I didn't realize is that he started that particular tradition with my mom when she was a kid!

Here's a photo of Grandpa John with our family friend, Bud. As Mom tells the story, Grandpa and Bud decided it was a good day to go to the races, and my mom and her cousin, Stan, also wanted to go for the rides and games. Grandpa gave them each a wad of money and sent them on their way. Then, he and Bud headed up to the races enjoy a few (or more) beers and try their luck with the horses. When they were done (we don't have any recollection of how much money they won or lost that day), they headed back down to the midway and decided to document the occasion with a photo booth picture:

Bud (left) and Grandpa John 

Even if they didn't win big that day, it looks like they had a lot of fun at the fair!!

My sister, Cindy, happened to be visiting us during the fair this year, so she, our cousin, Leslie, and I went to the Alameda County Fair with Cindy's boys and Leslie's husband and daughter. The young kids had a great time, and the three of us "old" kids couldn't resist squeezing into a photo booth. It was just like old times!

Cousin Leslie and sisters, Cindy and Wendy, clowning around at the fair!

Sentimental Sunday: Reblogged -- A Tribute to Dad

In honor of Father's Day this year, I'm reposting a tribute to my dad, William Lee Brittain, that I posted a couple of years ago. The sentiments still ring true, and I sure do wish Dad was here for me to wish him a Happy Father's Day and give him a big hug in person.

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Dad, Cindy and me

Happy Fathers Day to all the dads out there. This is a bittersweet day for me since my own dad passed away on January 4, 2003, from congestive heart disease and a heart transplant that went badly. I was a "daddy's girl" and I still find it hard to talk -- or write -- about him without getting very emotional. Instead, I'm going to share with you some photos of him, as well as the tribute I read at his memorial service. 

Tribute to My Dad (read at his memorial service on January 11, 2003)

When Cindy and I were growing up, we often heard friends tell us how cool our parents were and how lucky we were to have such great relationships with them.  We always knew that was the case and, even during those turbulent teen years, we valued and respected our Mom and Dad -- as both parents and friends.

Today, I’d like to share some memories that Cindy and I have shared, separately as well as together, with Dad as well as Mom.

Mom, Dad and me

WENDY’S MEMORIES

* The first time I remember seeing Dad cry was when I moved away from home to go to college in San Diego.  My roommate came to pick me up, and I was so excited as we started to drive off to our new lives as young adults in a new city.  Then, I turned around for one more wave goodbye to my family and saw that my Dad was crying.  Of course, I knew that he would miss me, but I was so touched by his show of emotion.  Needless to say, I bawled for a good thirty miles or so down the road

* Even though my family and I missed each other while I was living away from home, we never went too long without visits.  I always loved it when my parents came to visit me in college -- it was so much fun to show them the sites and take them to my favorite bars in San Diego and, later, in San Luis Obispo.  Some of my favorite times where when they would bring my sister, family friends or aunts and uncles.  A particularly memorable time was when they and Mike and Lois Brenkwitz visited me in San Diego one July 4th weekend.  I took them on a rather lively tour of Tijuana that will remain in our memories for years to come.  In more recent years, I’ve relished visits from Mom and Dad to my home in San Francisco.  Dad was NOT a city person, but he was always willing to hand over the car keys and let me be his tour guide

* Dad and I had many things in common.  We tended to drive Mom and Cindy crazy with our deep -- and, at times, incessant -- discussions/debates on politics and social issues.  It’s from my Dad that I inherited my addiction to news and political commentary -- we didn’t always agree on issues or candidates, but we found that we generally were coming from the same place.  We also loved discussing technology and sharing new “toys” with each other -- another topic that drove Mom and Cindy crazy.  Finally, Dad and I shared a passion for music.  He taught me to appreciate western swing and the older country music of Willie Nelson, Patsy Cline, Bob Wills, Hank Thompson, Marty Robbins and many other artists.  He and Mom also let me tag along with them and the McCrearys to jazz festivals.  One of my last happy memories with Dad was when he was in the hospital at Stanford and one of the hospital musicians came into to his room to play guitar and sing a few songs.  Dad had been very depressed, but when Jeff started playing “San Antonio Rose,” and I sang along with him, Dad’s eyes lit up -- he was so uplifted that he joined in the singing as well.  

Dad and Cindy

CINDY’S MEMORIES

*  Cindy felt especially lucky and privileged to have her Daddy walk her down the aisle on her wedding day.  Most of you know that Dad was not a man of many words, but the toast that gave that night was so moving because it came directly from his heart -- he was so proud of his little girl.  It was also icing on the cake knowing that Luis, her new husband, and Dad already were developing a great relationship.  After spending so much time in a family dominated by women, we think it made Dad very happy to be finally getting a son

*  The morning after Evan was born, everyone showed up at the hospital for a visit.  Liam got up on the bed with Cindy to meet his baby brother.  When Dad walked into the room and saw his daughter and two grandsons together for the first time, a tear came to his eyes.  This moment was especially touching for Cindy and is something she’ll hold dear to her.

*  Dad was such a proud grandpa, and he loved Liam and Evan so much.  I know that it bothered him that he didn’t have the energy to run after the boys or get down on the floor to play with him the way he would have liked to, but to see his eyes light up whenever the boys came to visit him and Mom was something to behold.  Liam and Evan loved their Papa Cow, too, and they both talk about him often and miss him very much.

Cindy, Mom, Pepper, Dad and me
at our house on Bird Road

 MEMORIES TOGETHER

* While Cindy and I had many separate memories of Dad, we also shared wonderful times with him together.  Some of our earliest memories of Dad were when he’d take us horse shoeing with him around Livermore, Pleasanton and Dublin.  He would let us hand him whatever tools he needed to do his job, or just let us loose to play with the kids or dogs who lived at the various ranches.  We’ll never forget the smell of horses and sweat that lingered in his ‘67 Ford pickup.  It’s a scent that -- even today -- both of us find sweet.

* While we were growing up, our family didn’t take trips to Europe, or even across the country.  Instead, most of our family vacations happened up in the Sierra Nevada mountains, usually camping with a motley group of family and/or close friends.  I think that one year, we camped in Yosemite at least four or five times -- we experienced that magnificent place in every season.  Dad loved the mountains more than anywhere else in the world, and he instilled that same love in Cindy and me.  When Cindy and I were old enough to have summer jobs, our parents started occasionally going up to the mountains without us -- while we were excited that they trusted us enough to leave us at home alone, I think that we secretly were a bit envious and sad that they were enjoying our favorite vacation stomping grounds without us!

* As we got older, we enjoyed many road trips with Mom and Dad -- big and small, well-planned as well as spontaneous -- but always memorable.  Their spur-of-the-moment trip to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon with Cindy and Luis always inspires laughter -- just mention the word “lizard” or ask about the “two dead coyotes driving down the road” and see what kind of reaction you’ll get.  It was during my trips to the Southwest with Mom and Dad that I developed an appreciation for Native American culture as well as the history of West.  I was always so honored to receive the occasional phone call from Mom and Dad, saying that they were thinking about taking a weekend road trip to Shasta or Eureka or wherever, and would I like to come along.  As you can see from the picture board and photo album we‘ve brought along today, these trips were treasured -- not just for the travel -- but for the special times we got to enjoy with both our parents.

Finally, one of my all-time favorite memories of both Mom and Dad together was witnessing a very fleeting, yet loving, moment between them just a few years ago.  I was home one weekend, watching TV in the living room.  I looked up to see Mom and Dad standing in the dining room with their arms around each other sharing a kiss and an “I love you”.  I thought, how cool is it that, after all these years, my parents are still in love with each other.  Their relationship was the solid foundation for our incredibly close-knit and loving family.

It’s so sad to think that we won’t have the chance to create more memories with Dad, but we’re so happy to have had all the happy times with him that we did.  We also know that Dad created memories with just about all of you, and we know that you are treasuring them in your own ways.  We miss Dad so much, and I know that he’s keeping an eye on us and will continue to share in our future memories in his own special way.

Again, Happy Fathers Day to everyone out there. While I'm missing my Daddy, I cherish all our memories together, and I hope you're all able to enjoy yours, as well.  

Dad, Mom and me on one of our Southwest vacations

Sentimental Sunday: My First Dog, Gow

Circa 1966

I was looking through some old photos last night and found some of my very first dog, Gow. Mom and Dad got Gow, a Border Collie, when I was a baby, and he was quite a dog. He had such a sweet personality, and was good with us kids. I loved that puppy so much that I named a succession of stuffed dogs after my own Gow. I still have one of my ratty, old stuffed Gow dogs from when I was a toddler, and it sits at the foot of my bed as a reminder of my old furry friend.

Like most Border Collies, Gow was smart as a whip, and talented, too. One of his favorite tricks was to ride our tricycle. It wasn't a trick we taught him, either. He just figured it out on his own. He'd put his front paws on the back of the trike, push with this back legs and steer with his nose. Eventually, as I recall, that tricycle pretty much became his own toy.

Our talented Gow

Sadly, Gowie didn't stay with us for long. We lived out in the country, and one night, when I was five or six years old, he was hit by a car on the road outside our house. That was such a sad time for us all, but Gow marked the beginning of our family's love of Border Collies.

My mom now has the sweetest Border Collie you'll ever know, Blaise, and we've been lucky to have her in our lives for 13 years.

Sentimental Sunday: Grandma Donna Teaches Uncle Jimmy to Swim

Isn't this a sweet photo? It's of my Grandma Donna Madsen Bartram (1919-1966) and my Uncle Clinton James "Jim" Bartram (1938-2001), and seems to have been taken sometime in the summer of 1939. I don't know exactly where they were, but it must have been somewhere in or around the Livermore valley in Northern California.

I always love seeing pictures of my parents, aunts, uncles and grandparents when they were children -- they were all so adorable!

Sentimental Sunday: Great Grandma Ethel Hunt & Friends

I'm still having fun looking through all the photos that I found at my Mom's house earlier this summer. A lot of them are very simple: folks just standing and smiling for the camera. But some of them are quite entertaining and even a little puzzling.

For example, here's a picture from 1918 of my paternal great grandmother, Ethel Modena Martindale Hunt, and two other ladies (I don't know who they are). The photo was printed onto a postcard (which is apparent on the back). Written in pen on the back is "Ethel Hunt on the right" and "1918."

"Ethel Hunt on the right"

Ethel and James Hunt were married in 1918, the year the photo was taken. They were living in Oklahoma at the time (Coal County when they were married, but they had moved to Euchee, Creek County, by the 1920 US census). What's puzzling is the odd pose of these ladies. Why on earth are they laying on rugs in the dirt? It seems an odd place to sunbathe, even on what appears to be a farm. Oh, well -- it looks like they are having fun.

I just wish that I'd seen this photo while Great Grandma Ethel was still alive so I could have asked her about it!

Sentimental Sunday: John Bruhns' 1903 Solo Card Club

This clipping is taken from a more recent issue of my hometown newspaper, the Tracy Press, in Tracy, California. I love that the Tracy Press does a regular "Remember When" series, when they re-tell stories that were local news ten, 25, 50, 75 and even 100 years ago. I don't have the date of this particular issue (drat whoever neglected to make note of that on the clipping), but I'm guessing it's from 2003 since it refers to a photo that was taken in 1903.

See the distinguished looking man seated on the right? That's my great great grandfather, John Bruhns (1848-1934).

I'd never heard of Solo, the card game to which the story refers. However, a quick Google search, and knowing that most of these men hailed from Germany, lead me to believe that they played a game known as German Solo that looks like it might be fun.

This photo, and the story that goes along with it, also makes me wonder if this was strictly a men's game, or if women were ever invited to join in the fun. There's one woman in the photo (Mrs. Prusser, seen peeking over the shoulders of a couple of tall men), but since it was taken at her home, I'm guessing she was being a gracious hostess while the men played their game. I wonder what the other wives were doing while their men were out playing cards. I sure hope they had a fun club of their own that I can tell you about in a future post!

Sentimental Sunday: The Women in My Family

A few months back, I posted a photo of some of the important men in my family, including my Dad (William Lee Brittain), Grandpa John Bartram and three of my uncles. Here's a photo of some of the amazing and beautiful women who all helped raise my sister, cousins and me:

L-R: Aunt Bobbie Bartram (Uncle Jim Bartram's wife), Rebecca Bartram Brittain (Mom),
Great Aunt Rae Madsen Christensen and Aunt Brenda Bartram Cairo

Our family spent a LOT of time together when I was growing up. From the outfits the ladies are wearing in this photo, it looks like they must have been together for a special event. I think that they are at Aunt Rae and Uncle Rob's house in Livermore, California, and I'm guessing it was in the late 1960s. All of our time together, however, was fun and full of laughter, good food and lots of love!

Sentimental Sunday: My Two Great Grandmas

Here's a photo of my two paternal great grandmothers: Jessie Luetta Halstead Brittain (Dad's paternal grandma) and Ethel Modena Martindale Hunt Dobbs (Dad's maternal grandma).

Jessie Luetta Halstead (1898-1974) and Ethel Modena Martindale (1896-1977)
They don't look terribly thrilled to be having their picture taken...

The photo was taken at my grandparents' (Woodie Brittain and Edith Hunt Brittain) home in Livermore, California. By this time, Ethel lived in Oklahoma (where both my grandparents were born) and Jessie lived in Oregon, so I think it was rare that they actually were in the same room together.

My sister, Cindy, and I were fortunate that we both got to know our great grandmas and spend time with them when they visited our family in California. They were sweet little ladies who liked to dote on their grandkids. =)

Sentimental Sunday: A Tribute to Dad

Dad, Cindy and me

NOTE: well, heck, I just realized I'm a week early on Fathers Day! At least now I know my cards were sent out in plenty of time... =p

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Happy Fathers Day to all the dads out there. This is a bittersweet day for me since my own dad passed away on January 4, 2003, from congestive heart disease and a heart transplant that went badly. I was a "daddy's girl" and I still find it hard to talk -- or write -- about him without getting very emotional. Instead, I'm going to share with you some photos of him, as well as the tribute I read at his memorial service.

Tribute to My Dad (read at his memorial service on January 11, 2003)

When Cindy and I were growing up, we often heard friends tell us how cool our parents were and how lucky we were to have such great relationships with them.  We always knew that was the case and, even during those turbulent teen years, we valued and respected our Mom and Dad -- as both parents and friends.

Today, I’d like to share some memories that Cindy and I have shared, separately as well as together, with Dad as well as Mom.

Mom, Dad and me

WENDY’S MEMORIES

* The first time I remember seeing Dad cry was when I moved away from home to go to college in San Diego.  My roommate came to pick me up, and I was so excited as we started to drive off to our new lives as young adults in a new city.  Then, I turned around for one more wave goodbye to my family and saw that my Dad was crying.  Of course, I knew that he would miss me, but I was so touched by his show of emotion.  Needless to say, I bawled for a good thirty miles or so down the road

* Even though my family and I missed each other while I was living away from home, we never went too long without visits.  I always loved it when my parents came to visit me in college -- it was so much fun to show them the sites and take them to my favorite bars in San Diego and, later, in San Luis Obispo.  Some of my favorite times where when they would bring my sister, family friends or aunts and uncles.  A particularly memorable time was when they and Mike and Lois Brenkwitz visited me in San Diego one July 4th weekend.  I took them on a rather lively tour of Tijuana that will remain in our memories for years to come.  In more recent years, I’ve relished visits from Mom and Dad to my home in San Francisco.  Dad was NOT a city person, but he was always willing to hand over the car keys and let me be his tour guide

* Dad and I had many things in common.  We tended to drive Mom and Cindy crazy with our deep -- and, at times, incessant -- discussions/debates on politics and social issues.  It’s from my Dad that I inherited my addiction to news and political commentary -- we didn’t always agree on issues or candidates, but we found that we generally were coming from the same place.  We also loved discussing technology and sharing new “toys” with each other -- another topic that drove Mom and Cindy crazy.  Finally, Dad and I shared a passion for music.  He taught me to appreciate western swing and the older country music of Willie Nelson, Patsy Cline, Bob Wills, Hank Thompson, Marty Robbins and many other artists.  He and Mom also let me tag along with them and the McCrearys to jazz festivals.  One of my last happy memories with Dad was when he was in the hospital at Stanford and one of the hospital musicians came into to his room to play guitar and sing a few songs.  Dad had been very depressed, but when Jeff started playing “San Antonio Rose,” and I sang along with him, Dad’s eyes lit up -- he was so uplifted that he joined in the singing as well.  

Dad and Cindy

CINDY’S MEMORIES

*  Cindy felt especially lucky and privileged to have her Daddy walk her down the aisle on her wedding day.  Most of you know that Dad was not a man of many words, but the toast that gave that night was so moving because it came directly from his heart -- he was so proud of his little girl.  It was also icing on the cake knowing that Luis, her new husband, and Dad already were developing a great relationship.  After spending so much time in a family dominated by women, we think it made Dad very happy to be finally getting a son

*  The morning after Evan was born, everyone showed up at the hospital for a visit.  Liam got up on the bed with Cindy to meet his baby brother.  When Dad walked into the room and saw his daughter and two grandsons together for the first time, a tear came to his eyes.  This moment was especially touching for Cindy and is something she’ll hold dear to her.

*  Dad was such a proud grandpa, and he loved Liam and Evan so much.  I know that it bothered him that he didn’t have the energy to run after the boys or get down on the floor to play with him the way he would have liked to, but to see his eyes light up whenever the boys came to visit him and Mom was something to behold.  Liam and Evan loved their Papa Cow, too, and they both talk about him often and miss him very much.

Cindy, Mom, Pepper, Dad and me
at our house on Bird Road

 MEMORIES TOGETHER

* While Cindy and I had many separate memories of Dad, we also shared wonderful times with him together.  Some of our earliest memories of Dad were when he’d take us horse shoeing with him around Livermore, Pleasanton and Dublin.  He would let us hand him whatever tools he needed to do his job, or just let us loose to play with the kids or dogs who lived at the various ranches.  We’ll never forget the smell of horses and sweat that lingered in his ‘67 Ford pickup.  It’s a scent that -- even today -- both of us find sweet.

* While we were growing up, our family didn’t take trips to Europe, or even across the country.  Instead, most of our family vacations happened up in the Sierra Nevada mountains, usually camping with a motley group of family and/or close friends.  I think that one year, we camped in Yosemite at least four or five times -- we experienced that magnificent place in every season.  Dad loved the mountains more than anywhere else in the world, and he instilled that same love in Cindy and me.  When Cindy and I were old enough to have summer jobs, our parents started occasionally going up to the mountains without us -- while we were excited that they trusted us enough to leave us at home alone, I think that we secretly were a bit envious and sad that they were enjoying our favorite vacation stomping grounds without us!

* As we got older, we enjoyed many road trips with Mom and Dad -- big and small, well-planned as well as spontaneous -- but always memorable.  Their spur-of-the-moment trip to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon with Cindy and Luis always inspires laughter -- just mention the word “lizard” or ask about the “two dead coyotes driving down the road” and see what kind of reaction you’ll get.  It was during my trips to the Southwest with Mom and Dad that I developed an appreciation for Native American culture as well as the history of West.  I was always so honored to receive the occasional phone call from Mom and Dad, saying that they were thinking about taking a weekend road trip to Shasta or Eureka or wherever, and would I like to come along.  As you can see from the picture board and photo album we‘ve brought along today, these trips were treasured -- not just for the travel -- but for the special times we got to enjoy with both our parents.

Finally, one of my all-time favorite memories of both Mom and Dad together was witnessing a very fleeting, yet loving, moment between them just a few years ago.  I was home one weekend, watching TV in the living room.  I looked up to see Mom and Dad standing in the dining room with their arms around each other sharing a kiss and an “I love you”.  I thought, how cool is it that, after all these years, my parents are still in love with each other.  Their relationship was the solid foundation for our incredibly close-knit and loving family.

It’s so sad to think that we won’t have the chance to create more memories with Dad, but we’re so happy to have had all the happy times with him that we did.  We also know that Dad created memories with just about all of you, and we know that you are treasuring them in your own ways.  We miss Dad so much, and I know that he’s keeping an eye on us and will continue to share in our future memories in his own special way.

Again, Happy Fathers Day to everyone out there. While I'm missing my Daddy, I cherish all our memories together, and I hope you're all able to enjoy yours, as well. 

Dad, Mom and me on one of our Southwest vacations

Sentimental Sunday: Happy Birthday, Mom!

Today, I wish a very Happy Birthday to my mom, Becky! You may have already read about this special lady on Mother's Day. I think she deserves another shout out today. =)

Happy Birthday, Mom! I love you!!

Sentimental Sunday: John & Dutch Bartram with Cousin Helen

Here's another photo from Cousin Vikki's collection. This is of my Grandpa John Bartram, his brother, Raymond ("Dutch"), and their Cousin, Helen. I believe that this particular cousin is Helen Veale, who was born in around 1909 in Kansas to William Elmer Veale and Artie Barlow. William Elmer Veale was the son of my great great grandparents, George Elmer Veale and Margaret Harriman, and the younger brother of my great grandmother, Alice A. Veale.

John Bartram, Helen Veale and Dutch Bartram in 1927

As you can see, the photo was taken in 1927. It must have been taken in California, as Helen and her family were settled in Richmond, California, by the 1920 United States census, and were in Oakland, California, by 1930. Dutch was also in Northern California by that time. I know that Grandpa John had permanently settled in the Bay Area when he hopped a west-bound freight train at the age of 16, which was in 1927, so that makes sense.

Until I started going through census documents, I had not realized that any of our family had settled in California prior to Uncle Dutch and Grandpa John. I'm sure my great grandmother was comforted to know that there were relatives already here to help look after her boys until she got there herself!

Sentimental Sunday: Happy Mother's Day!

Little Becky Bartram
What a cutie!

Happy Mother's Day, everyone! Today, I dedicate my blog post to my Mom: Rebecca Elizabeth Bartram (Brittain Santos). Mom was born in 1946, in Livermore, California, to John Bartram and Donna Madsen Bartram. She's the third of four children, including her older brother and sister, Jimmy and Brenda, and her younger brother, Clay.

Mom grew up around the Livermore valley, where my Grandpa John worked as a cowboy (for the Harry Rowell Ranch as well as riding rodeo). She met my dad, William Lee Brittain, when she was a teenager, and they married on September 12, 1964. They soon started their family with my younger sister, Cindy, and me. We moved around the Livermore area (with short stints in San Luis Obispo and the Reno, Nevada, area) until we settled outside of Tracy, California, in 1974.

Mom, Dad and me

Mom was always very involved in Cindy's and my activities. She worked at our elementary school and was an active leader of our 4-H group. In fact, Mom and Dad took it upon themselves to learn all they could about raising sheep so they could lead our 4-H sheep group. She schlepped us to our other various activities: Cindy's gymnastics practice and my marching band competitions, for example. She also fostered our love of crafts and Halloween: to this day, I refuse to purchase a Halloween costume when my Mom instilled in me the creativity and ingenuity to conjure up my own! I appreciated Dad and Mom helping me through college -- I was the first one in my family to get a university degree, and I can't tell you how much their support meant to me. Whatever we were into, Mom was a staunch supporter and we could always count on her encouragement.

Cindy, Mom and me at Mom and Rodney's wedding

I have to say, Cindy and I are very lucky daughters. My mom has always been a great parent, and she has a real knack for knowing when it's appropriate to be the "mom" and when it's ok to be our friend. As we've both grown, our relationship as women has truly blossomed. I've had fun going on vacations with Mom (alone and with Dad) and just hanging out with her. We still reminisce about our mother/daughter trip to New Orleans and pilgrimage to Graceland.

Grandma I-U and her boys, Liam and Evan

Mom has also developed a special relationship with Cindy: they are both mothers now and share that wonderful bond. She's the best grandma (or I-U, as they call her) to her boys, Liam and Evan. When Dad passed away in 2003, we all went through a rough patch together (and still do sometimes), but we knew we could count on each other to be strong for each other, or just to cry on each others' shoulders. I honestly don't know what I would have done without Mom and Cindy during that time.

Mr. and Mrs. Rodney Santos

Mom has now embarked on a new adventure in her life. She met a wonderful man, Rodney, and they got married last year. Cindy and I are so happy that she found love and companionship again, and that we're able to share in their new life together. I'm not able to spend today with Mom (we're celebrating our birthdays together in a couple of weeks, though), but I look forward to calling her first thing to thank her for everything she's done for me, and to tell her I love her.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!

Love,
-wendy

Isn't she beautiful??

Sentimental Sunday: The Men in my Family

I've been on a serious scanning frenzy since I got my new Flip-Pal scanner a couple of weeks ago. Wow, has it brought back some wonderful memories from my childhood. Here's a picture I found that made me happy to see some of the men in our family who have since left us. It's from Christmas 1979, and it's in the kitchen of our old house on Koster Road in Tracy, California.

From left to right: Uncle Clay Bartram, Grandpa John Bartram (1911-1987),

Dad - William Lee Brittain (1942-2003), Uncle Jim Bartram (1938-2001),
Uncle Rob Christensen (1920-1995)

We had lots of fun parties at that house way out in the country, and our close family and friends often gathered there for holidays. The men in our family were all sweet, good-natured guys. As you can see, they also liked their cigarettes and whiskey (I'm guessing my dad is holding a Canandian Mist in this picture -- probably where I got my love of good whiskey!).

I had to laugh a little looking at the ruffly mint curtains, green and white checkered wallpaper and, um, art in the background, but that was really stylish back in the '70s! Funny, we lived in that house only from 1974-1984, but I still have a lot of really vivid dreams that are set there.

Sentimental Sunday: Bartram Cousins

I've always loved this photo! It's of my mom, Rebecca Elizabeth Bartram, her siblings and some of their cousins. My grandpa, John Bartram, was one of 17 kids, so there were a lot of cousins in Mom's generation. This isn't even the half of them!

L-R: Charles Frager, George Frager, Jackie (Frager) Partain, Brenda (Bartram) Cairo,
Clay Bartram (little guy in front), Jim Bartram, Becky (Bartram) Brittain Santos,
Patty (O'Neal) Pasini, Bob Bartram (in back), Sharon (O'Neal) Pasini,
Delbert Smith (in back), Georgianne (Bartram) Hammes, Don Bartram

The picture was taken in Sunol, California, at the ranch owned by Grandpa John's sister, Grace, and her husband Carl Zwissig. Grace and Carl didn't have their own kids, but their nieces and nephews spent a lot of time out at the ranch.

Cousins have always been an important part of my life. My sister, Cindy, and my cousins (Debbie, Leslie, Dee Dee, Glenn, Vikki and Stacey) were my first best friends. We spent a LOT of time together: either just hanging out at each others' houses or going with our parents on many memorable adventures. When I see pictures like this, and hear the stories my mom and her siblings and cousins tell about their childhoods spent together, I can tell where we all got our love of family.

Sentimental Sunday: Aunt Rae's "Five Little Squirrels" Story

Liam and Aunt Rae (& Elmo!)

My sister, Cindy, recently reminded me of a story that our Great Aunt Rae (Grandma Donna's sister) told us when we were little kids. Cindy has a picture of Aunt Rae telling the story to my nephew, Liam, when he was a little guy. I'm glad that she thought to write it all down! Aunt Rae said that that her mom, Great Grandma Madsen, used to tell this story to her children and grandchildren:

Five Little Squirrels

Five little squirrels up in the tree,

This little squirrel says, "What do I see?"

This little squirrel says, "I smell a gun!"

This little squirrel says, "Let us run!"

This little squirrel says, "I'll hide in the shade."

This little squirrel says, "I'm not afraid!"

BANG!!! goes the gun and they run, everyone.

I was curious about this little poem, so I went in search of its history. I haven't yet figured out the origin, but did find several versions of it in old teaching manuals, including one that dates back to 1888! Nearly a hundred and twenty five years ago, teachers used this as a counting poem as well as to teach language.

Since Aunt Rae passed away last year, this has brought back very sweet memories of her for Cindy and me. Now, it's up to us to make sure that Liam and his brother, Evan, remember this poem to share with future generations!