16 August 2008
Wild Trees . . .
. . . a book review.
A few days ago, I finished reading “The Wild Trees” by Richard Preston with maps and illustrations by Andrew Joslin.
If you love plants in general, and trees in particular (or a true story of people doing extraordinary things) get yourself a copy of this book and read it.
Until recently, the tallest redwoods were thought to be virtually impossible to ascend, and the canopies at the tops of these magnificent trees had never been explored. This book unfolds the story of Steve Sillet, Marie Antoine, and a tiny group of botanists and amateur naturalists who found an unexplored world at over 350 feet above California in the tops of the largest and tallest organisms in the world, the coastal redwoods, Sequoia sempervirens.
The canopy voyagers were young college students when they began their quest, and they shared little other than a passion for preserving and studying these trees. What they found in these “meadows in the sky” (my terminology, not theirs) was mosses, lichens, hanging gardens of ferns, and thickets of huckleberry bushes, all growing out of soil sitting on massive limbs in the canopies high above the ground. Animal life found in the canopies include earthworms and spotted salamanders as well as copepods living in the moist mosses and in small pools. Imagine that, shrimp-like critters thriving high above the California coastal mountains in the tops of redwood trees!
And there is much more, but I will leave that for you to discover in this fascinating book.
“The Wild Trees” was copyrighted in 2007 by Richard Preston, and was published by Random House / New York.
Here are a couple of quotes from Mr. Preston’s book:
“This book is narrative nonfiction. The characters are real and the events factual, told to the best of my understanding. Passages in which I narrate a person’s thoughts and feelings and present dialogue have been built from interviews with the subjects and witnesses, and have been fact-checked. So many stories never get told. My goal is to reveal people and realms that nobody had ever imagined.”
“Botanists have a tradition of never revealing the exact location of a rare plant. Contact between humans and rare plants is generally risky for the plants. Many of the giant trees I describe in this book, as well as the groves they inhabit, have only recently been discovered, and in some cases have been seen by fewer than a dozen people, including myself. To honor the tradition of botany, I won’t reveal the exact locations of giant trees or groves if these locations have not been previously published.”
Richard Preston not only talks the talk, but “walks the walk”. He learned tree climbing skills and joined these intrepid researchers to climb some of the tallest trees on earth.
“Wild trees”, within the context of this book, means trees that have yet to be climbed.
25 July 2008
Vinny, our current “top cat”, loves to take mid-morning naps curled around a small tree trunk.
Sometimes, he turns over and “curls” the other way.
We have had as many as seven cats at the same time.
Now, we are down to three: Vinny; his sister, Vicky; and Bill, our oldest. Bill is a retired top cat, and he sleeps a lot. Vinny and Vickie came to us as tiny kittens a few years ago – we found them under a tomato plant in the garden.
Now, we are down to three: Vinny; his sister, Vicky; and Bill, our oldest. Bill is a retired top cat, and he sleeps a lot. Vinny and Vickie came to us as tiny kittens a few years ago – we found them under a tomato plant in the garden.
We have learned that cats have varied, distinctive, and interesting personalities.
All tolled, we have shared our home with more than a dozen cats over the past twenty years, or so. All of our cats have been “strays”. They come, and they go. We found homes for some of them, some died from “natural” causes, one died during surgery, two were killed in the street by automobiles, a couple simply disappeared and we don’t know what happened to them.
24 July 2008
These peaches are ripening on a tree that sprouted at the edge of the compost pile about six years ago, and there it remains. I never got around to transplanting the tree. This little peach tree has been blossoming each spring for the past couple of years, and this year it finally set a few peaches.
The tree seems to be perfectly happy right where it is even though it gets little direct sunshine, so maybe I will simply leave it where it sits. With an occasional pruning, and a bit of water now and then, it seems to be doing just fine, thank you.
These peaches are ripening on a tree that sprouted at the edge of the compost pile about six years ago, and there it remains. I never got around to transplanting the tree. This little peach tree has been blossoming each spring for the past couple of years, and this year it finally set a few peaches.
The tree seems to be perfectly happy right where it is even though it gets little direct sunshine, so maybe I will simply leave it where it sits. With an occasional pruning, and a bit of water now and then, it seems to be doing just fine, thank you.
17 July 2008
Summertime distractions have kept me from updating this blog for the past few weeks. Here is an entry to get things rolling again.
Dixie and Louis, our pair of Cayuga ducks, are now (almost) fully grown. I have found photographing black ducks to be a bit of a challenge. The background must be carefully chosen, else they seem to appear as little more than dark blobs in the photo.
Here is a photo of Dixie flapping her wings.
Dixie and Louis, our pair of Cayuga ducks, are now (almost) fully grown. I have found photographing black ducks to be a bit of a challenge. The background must be carefully chosen, else they seem to appear as little more than dark blobs in the photo.
Here is a photo of Dixie flapping her wings.
Dixie has never really taken flight, but she loves to stand on tip-toes, furiously flapping her wings. She bounces up and down as if on a pogo stick. Louis, on the other hand, has actually flown short distances. Louis is larger than Dixie, and his wings are more fully developed, but I have yet to catch him in full flight with the camera.
Here is Louis, waddling about near one of their watering dishes.
Some of the green iridescence is clearly visible on Louis' head.
In addition to their watering dishes, the ducks have a wading pool in which they can splash about and go for short swims.
Here is a photo of them in a couple of their watering dishes.
Louis, in the blue dish, is “helping” Dixie wash a munchie of some kind. Yes, they spend quite a bit of time in their watering dishes (which are plastic dishpans). The ducks seem to prefer their drinking water to be “seasoned” a bit before drinking it.
Their duck house, duck pen, and water facilities are works in progress; they enjoy full access to the garden in rear of the house until such time as I have finished fencing “their” territory. We were concerned that the ducks might destroy the plants in the garden, but they seem to be mostly carnivores, and do virtually no damage to the plants while searching for munchies hidden by the foliage. Snails, slugs, and earthworms are their favorite food. They will eat store-bought food that is formulated especially for ducks, but only as a last resort when they can’t find enough “real” food to satisfy their appetite.
These guys are excellent foragers!
09 June 2008
Tomatoes, turnips, and onions dominate the portion of our modest veggie garden this year. In this photo, there are some peas and beets hidden from view behind the tomato plants.
This particular garden patch is planted in an area between the house and the street.
This particular garden patch is planted in an area between the house and the street.
Additional veggies, including leek, radishes, and more onions, have been planted in the garden behind the house, but their tiny sproutlings are not yet ready for prime time display.
30 May 2008
Dixie and Louis in their “wading pond”.
We have been using a small wading pond to let the ducklings get some exercise swimming around and diving below the surface.
They LOVE it!
We plan to have a larger and drainable permanent pond for them by the time they are grown. The pond needs to be drainable for cleaning because they love to make Gawd-awful messes while playing in the water. Ideally, they should have a pond with circulating water that cleans itself, but that is a bit beyond our “duck budget” right now.
Speaking of grown ducks, Dixie and Louis are a rare breed called “Cayuga Ducks”. (Yes, they have been officially declared as “rare”)
Dixie and Louis in their “wading pond”.
We have been using a small wading pond to let the ducklings get some exercise swimming around and diving below the surface.
They LOVE it!
We plan to have a larger and drainable permanent pond for them by the time they are grown. The pond needs to be drainable for cleaning because they love to make Gawd-awful messes while playing in the water. Ideally, they should have a pond with circulating water that cleans itself, but that is a bit beyond our “duck budget” right now.
Speaking of grown ducks, Dixie and Louis are a rare breed called “Cayuga Ducks”. (Yes, they have been officially declared as “rare”)
When they reach full maturity, they will look like this: 
Meanwhile, we are enjoying the ducklings and all their cute antics.
26 May 2008
Ducklings . . .
. . . are an interesting addition to our collection of animals.
These guys, pictured here in their temporary home, at about four weeks old, are little fuzz-balls with stubby little wings. They are much too young to be turned loose in the garden.
Their temporary home is a portable kennel that was previously used by a 140-pound rottweiler named Hildagard (as in Hilda, guard dog). Sadly, Hilda is no longer with us – she lived to a ripe old age, and her ashes are now enriching the soil in a rose garden.
Be that as it may, we plan to enclose a small part of the garden behind the house so that the ducklings can “run wild” for short periods of time under close supervision. Once they are full-grown, they can have part of the garden as their very own with little or no supervision.
Their names? Dixie and Louis. It is rather difficult to tell which is which at this point in their development.
Ducklings . . .
. . . are an interesting addition to our collection of animals.
These guys, pictured here in their temporary home, at about four weeks old, are little fuzz-balls with stubby little wings. They are much too young to be turned loose in the garden.
Their temporary home is a portable kennel that was previously used by a 140-pound rottweiler named Hildagard (as in Hilda, guard dog). Sadly, Hilda is no longer with us – she lived to a ripe old age, and her ashes are now enriching the soil in a rose garden.
Be that as it may, we plan to enclose a small part of the garden behind the house so that the ducklings can “run wild” for short periods of time under close supervision. Once they are full-grown, they can have part of the garden as their very own with little or no supervision.
Their names? Dixie and Louis. It is rather difficult to tell which is which at this point in their development.
18 May 2008
The concrete blocks I’m talking about look something like this:
Concrete blocks come in a variety of sizes. I used two sizes:
[1] About sixteen inches long x eight inches wide x eight inches high
[2] About sixteen inches long x four inches wide x eight inches high
Where I need a two-block-high retainer, I use the 16 x 8 x 8 blocks as a “foundation”, then stacked 16 x 4 x 8 blocks on top, like so:
The steel bars I used are twenty-four inches long, an inch and a half wide, and about three-sixteenths of an inch thick. The dirt in my yard is pretty solid stuff, so the 24-inch bars are more than adequate to hold the blocks. If your dirt is sandy, or has a lot of organic material in it, longer bars should be used.
Does it meet building code. Darned if I know (didn’t ask, so nobody could tell me “no”).
Does it work? Definitely.
NOTE: Probably not a good idea to use this method for a retainer more than two concrete blocks high.
Here is a photo of the wall under construction:
Nothing accidental about this - - a functional, quick, and (relatively) easy retainer wall can be built using concrete blocks and flat steel bars (no concrete mixing, no rebar, no mortar).
This project started when I found myself with a pile of “extra” dirt following a few landscape changes. After thinking about the situation, it seemed that using the dirt to create a small “raised garden” was a good idea. Of course, a raised garden requires some sort of retainer wall to keep everything in place. Having recently suffered “sticker shock” after hiring a contractor to construct a similar retainer wall as a foundation for a fence, I decided to be kind to my bank account by doing it myself. Turns out this decision provided several hours of satisfying activity in the garden in addition to being financially sound.
This project started when I found myself with a pile of “extra” dirt following a few landscape changes. After thinking about the situation, it seemed that using the dirt to create a small “raised garden” was a good idea. Of course, a raised garden requires some sort of retainer wall to keep everything in place. Having recently suffered “sticker shock” after hiring a contractor to construct a similar retainer wall as a foundation for a fence, I decided to be kind to my bank account by doing it myself. Turns out this decision provided several hours of satisfying activity in the garden in addition to being financially sound.
The concrete blocks I’m talking about look something like this:Concrete blocks come in a variety of sizes. I used two sizes:
[1] About sixteen inches long x eight inches wide x eight inches high
[2] About sixteen inches long x four inches wide x eight inches high
Where I need a two-block-high retainer, I use the 16 x 8 x 8 blocks as a “foundation”, then stacked 16 x 4 x 8 blocks on top, like so:
Notice that there is a small “lip” on the front of the wall, and a larger “lip” on the back side of the wall. The small lip in the front of the wall served to disguise any small misalignment of the blocks. The blocks can, of course, be mounted flush, without the lip, if you so desire.
The building of the two-block-high retainer goes something like this:
(1) The 16 x 8 x 8 blocks were laid on solid, level ground.
(2) After the foundation blocks are in place, lined up, and squared up, the holes in the blocks are filled with tamped dirt.
(3) Remove any “excess” dirt from the top of the blocks so the upper blocks can be added.
(4) Place the 16 x 8 x 4 blocks on top of the foundation blocks.
(4) Place the 16 x 8 x 4 blocks on top of the foundation blocks.
(5) Two steel bars are driven into the ground inside the rear wall of the 16 x 8 x 4 blocks.
These steel bars are ready made in various lengths, and can be found at lumber yards and hardware stores. The bars are used when building forms for pouring concrete, but here they are being used to “nail” the retainer wall to the ground so it will not move when dirt is placed behind the wall. These “ready-made” steel bars have become a bit pricey lately. Mine were “leftovers” from some concrete work that was done a couple years ago. Sometimes, you can find them reasonable priced at garage sales, but that could take months.
The steel bars I used are twenty-four inches long, an inch and a half wide, and about three-sixteenths of an inch thick. The dirt in my yard is pretty solid stuff, so the 24-inch bars are more than adequate to hold the blocks. If your dirt is sandy, or has a lot of organic material in it, longer bars should be used.
Does it meet building code. Darned if I know (didn’t ask, so nobody could tell me “no”).
Does it work? Definitely.
NOTE: Probably not a good idea to use this method for a retainer more than two concrete blocks high.
Here is a photo of the wall under construction:
As you can see, one of the steel bars is in place, ready to be driven into the earth to hold the blocks in place. Once all the bars are driven, the openings on the blocks are filled with tamped dirt. Concrete covers for the blocks are available to hide the openings, but I did not consider them to be necessary.
The retainer wall has been completed, dirt has been placed behind the wall, and a few plants have been put in place.
I will post an update when the plants are mature and ready for prime time showing.
07 May 2008
Good jazz and good food with my good wife last evening at Spazio’s jazz club. The music was provided by three world-class musicians: Anthony Wilson (guitar), Jeff Hamilton (drums), and Larry Goldings (keyboard). Life is good!
We were celebrating the event of a beautiful, sunny Tuesday, 06 May 2008.
Why?
Just because.
Having returned home in the wee hours, the garden will be neglected for a day or so while I recover. The days when I could participate in such an event without concern for “recovery time” are long gone, but it was worth it.
The weather is mild, and the well-attended garden will do just fine, thank you. Look at this tomato plant.
We were celebrating the event of a beautiful, sunny Tuesday, 06 May 2008.
Why?
Just because.
Having returned home in the wee hours, the garden will be neglected for a day or so while I recover. The days when I could participate in such an event without concern for “recovery time” are long gone, but it was worth it.
The weather is mild, and the well-attended garden will do just fine, thank you. Look at this tomato plant.
The tomato plant, along with its neighbors in the veggie garden, can survive a bit of neglect.
05 May 2008
Here is another “accidental” resident in our garden.
Here is another “accidental” resident in our garden.
This lily sprouted smack up against the driveway, in front of a gate leading into the entry-way patio.
A few months ago, we did a bit of remodeling, both the house and the front garden. A trench was dug along the driveway to facilitate some of the work, and the lily evidently had its beginning in the dirt that was used to re-fill the ditch and some other parts of the garden.
The lily silently greets us each time we return home. The dogs, the two guardians of the garden, also greet us, but they are anything but silent.
02 May 2008Speaking of dogs (as in a previous post) here are the guardians of the garden:
Hobo
Hobo
Happy
Happy is a Pomeranian and Hobo is (mostly) a “blue heeler” Australian Cattle Dog.
The snapshots were taken on the steps leading to the “dog door” that is built into one of the patio doors. This is a south-facing door, and the guardians love to soak-up sunshine on the steps as they keep an eye on things so they can keep us advised of "unauthorized" behavior in the neighborhood, such as UPS delivery trucks.
30 April 2008
Dirt is wonderful stuff.
Without dirt, we could not survive on this damp ball we call home.
That’s what I’ve always thought
My Merriam Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary, tenth edition, shows numerous definitions, none of which are even close to what I have always considered to be “dirt”, as in the stuff where plants grow. Most of the dictionary definitions for “dirt” have to do with really disgusting, nasty stuff. Not a word about plowing, planting, or plants.
Not, exactly, what I had in mind. OK, I can adjust.
So, how about “soil”?
After digging through all the verbs; “to stain or defile morally”, “to make unclean”, “to blacken or besmirch”, etc., we get to the noun(s) with definitions such as “moral defilement”, “something that spoils or pollutes” “sewage”, “excrement”, “corruption”, “dung”, and . . .
. . . (finally!!) “firm land”, “the upper layer of earth that may be dug or plowed and in which plants grow”.
I would have thought this last definition would have been at or near the top of the list for “soil”.
Without dirt, we could not survive on this damp ball we call home.
That’s what I’ve always thought
My Merriam Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary, tenth edition, shows numerous definitions, none of which are even close to what I have always considered to be “dirt”, as in the stuff where plants grow. Most of the dictionary definitions for “dirt” have to do with really disgusting, nasty stuff. Not a word about plowing, planting, or plants.
Not, exactly, what I had in mind. OK, I can adjust.
So, how about “soil”?
After digging through all the verbs; “to stain or defile morally”, “to make unclean”, “to blacken or besmirch”, etc., we get to the noun(s) with definitions such as “moral defilement”, “something that spoils or pollutes” “sewage”, “excrement”, “corruption”, “dung”, and . . .
. . . (finally!!) “firm land”, “the upper layer of earth that may be dug or plowed and in which plants grow”.
I would have thought this last definition would have been at or near the top of the list for “soil”.
It seems the editors of this dictionary had their heads in the dirt.
14 April 2008
This iris (finally) produced a blossom after having been planted in the garden for about three years. The plant was a gift from a friend, and I didn’t want to destroy it, but I was thinking about relegating it to the compost pile if it didn’t perform soon.
I am happy it finally decided to show us how beautiful it could be.
I am happy it finally decided to show us how beautiful it could be.
04 April 2008
The photo shows potatoes sprouting from the compost pile. I know, I KNOW – ‘tis time to turn the compost pile. (Other activities have been taking time from my gardening chores.)
Speaking of compost, most of the garden trimmings, and the kitchen vegetable scraps (no animal waste) go into a compost pile in back of the garage. The pile hosts a variety of crawling things, including pill bugs, centipedes, spiders, worms, and, of course, millions of microbes as well as various fungi. On rare occasions I see a toad, and one time a turtle visited the compost pile while wandering across the property from somewhere, on its way to somewhere else. Lizards burrow into the pile around the edges to feast on yummy bugs they find there.
Compost is wonderful stuff. In addition to providing “accidental” plants, it can transform ordinary dirt into productive garden soil.
From time to time, plants simply sprout up in various places in the garden, and many of our “accidental” plants start life sprouting from the compost pile. Avocados, apricots, loquats, peaches, potatoes, and date palms sprout from discarded pits and other kitchen waste in the compost pile behind the garage. Most of these plants are simply turned under to become more compost, but a few can be saved and added to the garden.
The photo shows potatoes sprouting from the compost pile. I know, I KNOW – ‘tis time to turn the compost pile. (Other activities have been taking time from my gardening chores.)
Speaking of compost, most of the garden trimmings, and the kitchen vegetable scraps (no animal waste) go into a compost pile in back of the garage. The pile hosts a variety of crawling things, including pill bugs, centipedes, spiders, worms, and, of course, millions of microbes as well as various fungi. On rare occasions I see a toad, and one time a turtle visited the compost pile while wandering across the property from somewhere, on its way to somewhere else. Lizards burrow into the pile around the edges to feast on yummy bugs they find there.
Compost is wonderful stuff. In addition to providing “accidental” plants, it can transform ordinary dirt into productive garden soil.
03 April 2008
Morning sun and shadows.
The large tree trunk in rear of the garden bench is an “accidental” sycamore that sprouted in our garden a few years ago. The tree is now about fifty feet tall, and grows about three feet taller each year.
There are sycamores near a river not far from our place, and I’m sure the seed was delivered to our garden by an afternoon breeze that comes from where the river empties into the Pacific Ocean.
01 April 2008
Why “accidental”? (you might want to know).
The garden surrounding my home is what I consider to be largely “accidental” because many of the plants simply sprouted up without having planted seeds or bulbs. Here is a photo of an “accidental” resident in our garden, an oak tree that sprouted a few years ago.
The garden surrounding my home is what I consider to be largely “accidental” because many of the plants simply sprouted up without having planted seeds or bulbs. Here is a photo of an “accidental” resident in our garden, an oak tree that sprouted a few years ago.
As you can see, it has been transplanted into a five gallon container. Actually, this is it's second home since leaving its “birthplace”. When first transplanted, I placed it into a half-gallon container, which it soon outgrew.The oak is now about 38 inches (96 cm) tall and 53 inches (134.5 cm) wide. The trunk is about 2 inches (5 cm) in diameter at the base. The tree rests on a roll-around base that allows it to be moved from place to place on the patio. The tree will never get larger because it will next be transplanted into a bonsai "training" container and will eventually be placed into a "showcase" bonsai pot. It is a bit large for a table-top bonsai, but will be a nice addition to our patio bonsai display.
The loquats are ripening.
This particular tree sprouted a few years ago from a discarded pit, and has provided good crops for several years. Sadly, the tree must be removed within the next couple of years to allow for expansion of a patio. There will still be plenty of loquats for snacking because some of the trees in the loquat hedge along the sidewalk in front of the house are starting to produce fruit (the seeds came from the tree that will be removed).
Why do I enjoy gardening, both “accidental” and deliberate, so much?
A little background, if you please . . .
My Dad was a cowboy; a real cowboy. I remember living on a ranch in the Texas panhandle when I was very young. Dad would come home after several days riding the fence lines, bone tired, smelling of sweat and leather, with a big smile on his face. He loved being a cowboy. He made pretty good money, for a cowboy, about fifty dollars a month, which included some extra pay for “breaking” horses. “Breaking”, for those not familiar with Texas ranch lingo, means taming horses and training them to be “cow ponies”. That’s part of what dad did for a living, not for show in a rodeo. And, he did it all alone, except for my dog, Pal, and I, who were devoted “fans”. I don’t recall mom ever watching dad work the ponies. She didn’t seem to enjoy the ranch life as much as dad, Pal, and I.
Pal and I sort of took care of each other. Pal, of course, did most of the taking care, and I just went along for the fun. I also had a horse. When I started to school, I would ride my horse, Baldy, about a mile to a dirt road where the school bus would pick me up and take me to school. In the afternoon, the school bus would deposit me at the same spot, and I would ride Baldy back to the house. Did Baldy stay there at the gate all day? I don’t think so, but he was always there when I got off the bus in the afternoon. That’s the way things were, and I never questioned it. I suspect Mom and/or Dad had something to do with Baldy being there to greet me after school.
That’s about all I remember of ranch life. Oh, there are a few other snippets of memory that come to mind once in a while, but not a lot of detail. My brain, having spent several decades remembering and forgetting, seems to have become best at forgetting.
When WW II came along, Dad moved us from our small home out in the “middle of nowhere” to Quitaque, Texas. I’m not sure what Dad did for a paycheck in Quitaque, but I think he worked at a lumberyard. I remember playing in the stacks of lumber with my cousin, Carl. Betty, Carl’s little sister, came along once in a while, but since she was a girl, Carl and I considered her a pest and avoided her whenever possible. She always brought her doll, and dolls simply don’t belong in lumberyards.
After several months in Quitaque, we moved to an old house at an abandoned gravel pit a few miles south of town. I suspect the rent was cheaper there, or, maybe it was free. Dad spent a lot of time doing repairs and building cabinets in the kitchen. In any event, while at the gravel pit, I led an idyllic boyhood: catching bugs, tarantulas, minnows, and learning to swim & catch fish. There was a year-round stream running near the house, and a water reservoir with a rickety old wooden pier leading out to a pump house in the middle of the reservoir. The reservoir was just a small pond, but it seemed large to me. I spent countless hours in and around the pond. I recall a large catfish that would sun himself (herself?) on the sandy bottom of the shallows where the stream fed into the pond. My greatest ambition was to catch that catfish and have it for dinner. Alas, the catfish was much more clever than I, and I never caught it. I did, however, catch some of its smaller cousins using grasshoppers and minnows for bait. I used a hand line and rusty old hooks that I found in the tool shed. It wasn’t a very fancy fishing rig, but it did the job while fishing off the pier or through a hole in the floor of the pump house. I was forbidden to go into the pump house because it was dangerously close to collapsing, but that made it all the more attractive.
The time we spent living at the gravel pit was, fairly short; about a year, or so. This relatively short time, however defines the best of my childhood memories. Eventually, Dad purchased a house in Quitaque, and we moved back into town. I recall Dad discussing the finances with Mom. It seems Dad didn’t have the cash to pay for the house (the price was four hundred dollars), and he was agonizing over having to borrow money. It was the first time he had ever been in debt, and he was very uncomfortable with the idea of being a debtor.
Cowboys don’t like to be owin’ to anybody.
World Was II brought good paying jobs to “big cities” like Amarillo, and we moved there so Dad could find work as a carpenter in the “war effort”.
That was the end of my carefree boyhood, and Dad didn’t smile much after we moved to the “big city”.
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