Happy Halloween!

Trick or treat pre-game





Hi Bip

Wish You Were Here

Orange Red Brown Yellow Orange

Maybe it's because we haven't seen a golden leaf since 2006 that Andrew and I are so dazzled by this color show. Or maybe it's because this charming town is the prettiest place in the world in October.
The rainbow continues...












Out the back door

Over the River and Through the Woods

to grandmother's house we go...








We came to Pennsylvania to help sort through the belongings of Aunt Marge. Although we didn't exactly help much, we did find a few piles of old family pictures and we sorted through some of those. The next post is our favorites of Aunt Marge.

Aunt Marge

Aunt Marge with baby Calvin


Here are some memories of Aunt Marge recorded by Andrew and read at her funeral:


• Swiss steak; Swedish meatballs with noodles; chicken with stuffing; breaded porkchops; tacos; strip steak; spaghetti on Fridays; your choice of peas, green beans or corn; cranberries from the can; and applesauce with brown sugar and cinnamon on top.

• Waking with a distinct thud against the wall followed by blinding light and Aunt Marge declaring “its time to get up.”

• Always trying to hunt down the elusive missing sock each and every laundry day.

• A road trip to Colorado with Aunt Marge, a horse trailer, and my dog Shania. She sat contently the whole way with her purse in lap.

• Sick days at home when I was a kid. Aunt Marge’s remedy was watching Price is Right, a glass of ice-cold 7-up, and a bowl of hot chicken noodle soup.

• Chris and Aunt Marge drove 9 hours up to Cody Wyoming in a little white station wagon to come see me one summer. We had lunch downtown at La Comida and watched the cowboys walk by.

• Crawling into bed with my parents when I was little. When they started locking me out, I moved down the hall to Aunt Marge’s room. When she started locking me out, I learned to pick the lock. She always let me stay.

• Feeding the dogs way too much.

• Having to be home at 4:30 every school day to walk Nugget. If you weren’t home at 4:30 there’d better be a good reason.

• All hats off in the house. I’d have a line of friends come through the door wearing hats and each and everyone one of them knew better than to wear a hat in our house.

• She made sure you had a special birthday dinner. A week in advance she’d ask you to put in your order. She never forgot a birthday.

• Reports on the weather. She always wanted to know how the weather was wherever you found yourself. And she’d fill you in on the weather back home.

• Big thanksgiving turkeys. I remember her proudly reporting on the poundage of the given year’s turkey. There were leftovers for a solid week

• We ate dinner at 6:30. Delays were occasionally tolerated if fair notice was given. But dinner was at 6:30.

• The fuzzy green swamp-thing full-body Halloween costume she made for me way back when. Brian had the corresponding werewolf suit

• Aunt Marge never wore a seat belt.

• Being picked up every Wednesday at 3:30 for 10 years to attend piano lessons. She’d always have two oreos and a juice box waiting.

• Brown toad, the blue buick, and the 93 lexus.

• Crossword puzzles.

• Nugget getting sprayed by a skunk again. Of all the cleaning products available, Aunt Marge and I ended up cleaning Nugget together with vast amounts of vaginal douche.

• Stories of a ranch she owned out in Montana back before I was born. The notion of that far distant place was one of the things that got my mind wrapped around the west from an early age.

• Crackers. She loved crackers and always fed the dogs crackers too.

• Publisher’s clearing house sweepstakes. She’s been in the running for the grand prize for at least the last 25 years.

• The only time I ever saw her cry – at my Grandma Boal’s funeral. I was 8 years old and it was that moment, seeing her cry, that I remember most of that day.

• Everyone knew her as Aunt Marge – the people at the bakery, the people at the doctor’s office, all my friends, delivery men, Jay the frozen meat guy…she was Aunt Marge.

• Going over to Harrisburg to get sticky buns. We’d wait in the car and when she’d come back with the goods the entire car would smell like heaven.

• She was old school. If you sassed her, which we knew to keep to a minimum, she wouldn’t hesitate to wrap you upside the head. At some point though I remember figuring out that I was a lot faster than her. So one particular time after sassing her, I
evaded punishment by running away and she continued to pursue me around and around the kitchen island.

• She was always the first voice on the end of the phone line. For the last 30 years 761-5791 connected you with Aunt Marge in no more than three rings

o I will miss her voice on the end of the phone line.

o I will miss being reminded to take my hat off when I walk through the door.

o I will miss the brown sugar and cinnamon on top of the applesauce. D’Ann tries but Aunt Marge always mixed it in just right.

o I will miss seeing her in her spot at the end of the couch, her purse on the counter, her books neatly stacked.

o I will miss hearing the wisdom of how she helped raise me and my brothers, and using that wisdom to help me raise my own children.

o I continue to miss her dinners at 6:30.

o I will miss the consistent, ever-dependable anchor she was to my life.

Marjorie Wright, Beloved Aunt Marge
August 16th, 1917 - September 2nd, 2010