My grandma taught my Mom who repeated it to me, "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all!" and... "If you look hard enough, you can find some good in every one." My Grandma (her pet name for me was "Obbie"...for some reason, I didn't pronouce "Grandma" and "Awe-bee" was the name she answered to when I was a small child. Even her neighbors & lots of friends called her "Obbie" throughout the years of my growing up. She was a "hired girl" on farms when she was a teenager...she was married and divorced at a young age...she was widowed after another marriage to my grandpa of 26 yrs...she worked in a bakery, she operated a cafe, she ironed clothes in her home for other families...she was always a HARD worker!...she passed that on to her 3 daughters & family. Here are some of my precious memories of my Grandma, Obbie that I wrote back in 1984 for a genealogy book my Mom created: In the back yard, Obbie had lots of flower gardens. I once found the cactus garden with my bare feet when I jumped a fence playing (where I shouldn't have been)! There were also lots of sour grapes, good ripe strawbeeries and lots of green apples. We were never without homegrown food at Obbie's. And, oh, that homemade jar of strawberry jam. Of course, inside the house, there were always homemade chocolate chip cookies. And on Sundays, the smell of Obbie frying chicken (that my 'grandpa butchered). Anyone was welcome to show up for Sunday dinner! Obbie taught me a few of the things every woman was supposed to know before growing up. The ol' treadle sewing machine put out lots of doll clothes and pin cushions. Crocheting chain stitches (by the miles). Obbie crocheted each grandchild an afghan for graduation. Never being bored at Obbie's, there were always old catalogs for cutting out paper dolls and clothes. (Ok, Gjers, I could go on & on...but I just want you to know that I was very blessed...I was a "crouper" as a child and finally outgrew it at 12 yrs. old...but my Obbie would always come running when I got sick...with "warm 7-up" and hugs. Anyway, I will end this post with a poem I wrote for this genealogy book (she died when my first grandchild was 4 mos. old): "My grandma, Obbie, always had time for her grandchildren. She was never too busy to forget us. I am the lucky one even to have had Obbie for my grandma... If I can be as strong, as you were strong, If I can give, as you have given, If I can be kind, as you always were kind, If I am loved, as you are loved, If I am cherised, as you are cherished, If I am mourned, as you are mourned, Then I can say..my life is truly blessed. Obbie passed on her love for gardening & flowers to me...as my grandpa did also...and my Dad. Here is a pic that I am so fortunate to have of my Grandma holding me in her backyard...I lived in the same household the first 2 yrs. of my life...and her LOVE shaped my life. Ahhh, pretty sentimental stuff...but I enjoyed all of your sharing and wanted to share a bit of this special lady! Thanks, Jeanne S.

We have had a good size pack (from the sound) of Coyotes living in our gully here in the Finger Lakes for several years now. They have lots of cover and plenty of rodents/ rabbits to feast on, their primary diet. I have sheep and a horse and electric net fencing, so no trouble so far. The neighbor who has a good size flock of sheep had a sheep guard dog in with the flock. No reports of coyote attacks on any of the local flocks. We do have barn cats disappear, but they do wander into the woods, so possibly cross tracks with the pack. But then we also have raccoon and fox, so maybe they are responsible. The strange thing is that the Coyotes seem to have disappeared this winter. We know there IS rabies in the area - my husband got bitten by a confirmed rabid skunk in Feb., so I am wondering if the pack was taken sick and died out. With the number of rodents and rabbits they eat, they are welcome to live in my gully, and since it is good habitat, I assume they will be back. On another note, I have had Owls living in my woods in the gully since I have lived here - 32 years - but I did not hear a single Owl this winter. I leave old and dying trees in the gully to encourage their nesting, so I know they have shelter, and am wondering what could have happened to them also. -Rosalinda

The memory that helped shaped my understanding of gardening involves going to our aunt's ranch in the fall to clean out her cow corral from all the (blessings) from her cattle. My dad would borrow a company flat bed and we, my brothers and I would shovel (forever it seemed): this 'mostly' dry cow (blessing). Tons of it or so it seemed to my tired 8 year old arms and hands. This is a Saturday and we would do it all day and yeh Sunday was supposed to be a day of rest but noooo we had to get all the 'blessings'off the flatbed and spread out over the 100 x 80 foot garden. This is one of the few times I looked forward to Monday's and going back to school and being able to rest my blistered hands!!! I remember shucking corn and picking and shelling peas for mom but she would always say 'don't eat any so we have enough for everyone for suppper'. Fat chance of that ( I always loved the fresh veggies from the garden but raw peas had to be my favorite:). Reflecting back at 50 now I realize that I knew to garden well was to have to work hard, blister hands and have an achy back and smell like doo-doo. As much as I whined about it I would do it all over again for those fresh tasty veggies that we depended on so much to stretch the food budget for a family of 9. I work smarter now ( I love to use alfalfa that smells good doesn't require a truck load of smelly 'blessings' to help the garden to flourish and still don't wear gloves (need to have the feel of the soil:) but thank my parents everyday for giving me the ethics of the fruits of your labors are well rewarded by nature, even if not by your fellow man who still in my humble opinion doesn't value the farmer and growers of our bountiful harvests as much as the rest of our essential needs or wants as a society. Happy Growing to all and may your garden be ever fruitful and a joy to your soul as it is to mine. David

Tuskegee's truths : rethinking the Tuskegee syphilis study-- Susan Reverby