I remember wiping out on my bike at the bottom of the hill west of our house and Dad removing little pieces of gravel embedded in the palm of my hand.

I remember stepping on a fish hook once while camping and feeling relieved and grateful when Mom was able to remove it from my foot.

I remember (and still feel bad about) Chris and I killing a turtle with rocks in a creek when he lived on Tanner Bridge Rd, and I think about it every time I hear the song The Giant Of Illinois by the The Handsome Family.

I remember a book I owned called The Emperor Wears No Clothes by Jack Herer, which I always suspected Jen's girlfriend Tina stole from me when they moved out.

One time on the farm, Dad was in the laundry room and saw a black widow spider on his arm. He shook it off and killed it.

I remember when we lived on the farm near Brazito that the house was infested with fiddleback spiders. When we went to Oklahoma one time, we had to seal all the cabinets because Leroy Propst was going to use some kind of smoke bomb to kill them. When we returned, there were dead spiders all over the place.

I remember that there was a number you could call in the 1950s that gave you the time and temperture.

I remember in the 1950s you could call 411 and get "Information" - the operator looking up the phone number of any person you wanted.

I remember when you had to go through the operator to make a long-distance phone call, and the extra charge showed up on your bill that month.

I remember sleeping on the floor in Emmanuel Lutheran Church in Goodland, Kansas both on the way out and on the way back from Sky Ranch camp in Colorado during the summer of 1986.

I remember the year Sophie accidentally got a birthday present on Danielle's birthday after she begged her mom to let her open an Amazon package that had come for Danielle but that I'd deviously wrapped to look like a birthday gift from me.

I remember during my college years playing the organ one summer at Sunday morning services at Redeemer Lutheran Church - a black congregation in east Oklahoma City.

I remember when Dad found a wild strawberry in the backyard on Regent Street and when I handed it to a very young Sophie, she ate it before I could stop her.

I remember going out for basketball in 5th grade and being the only one who couldn't get the hang of the three man weave exercise at the first practice.

I remember only three of the five times I was in the hospital as a child: when I had polio at age 5, when I had my first surgery in the fourth grade, and when I had my last surgery in the seventh grade. No memories at all of the other two.

I remember my Aunt Liz painting green vines over the cracks in her dining roomm ceiling - interspersing the vines with beautiful pink roses.

I remember that Dan Paul did not like cemeteries. (I wonder why.)

I remember Mr. Smith adding to my stress by warning Danielle and I that our dog better not poop in his yard as we tried to get close enough to lay hands on Louie the escapee.

I remember when Mark and Danielle were toddlers in Ponca City that I fed them appleauce and instant mashed potatoes every day for lunch because we didn't have money for baby food.

I remember the tags on the backs of pajamas and other clothing bothered Sophie, and she would wear those items inside-out.

I remember Danielle worked at the Brown Palace Hotel in Denver one summer during her college years.

I remember Mark's "long-hair" days.

I remember when it was common for everyone to wear a wristwatch.

I remember that my parents had the same telephone number for over 70 years - 525-3218 (originally JA[ckson]5-3218).

I remember accidentally leaving my watch behind when fleeing a sleepover at my friend John Glavin's house (practically just across the street from us on Veil Of Tears), his weird and hyper younger brothers Pat and Shane having made me uncomfortable, and when I tried to retrieve it, Shane (probably lying) said his dad was furious at my sudden departure.

I remember that I learned the word "mien" and its definition when I was in Mrs. Beck's English class.

I remember my mother would put either Merthiolate or Mercurochrome on my cuts and scrapes as a child.

I remember only twice being inside the Wisconsin Capitol building, once in 1995 when I think Ranee and I just cut through as a shortcut across the square, and then during the Act 10 protests in 2011.

I remember riding a ferris wheel only one time, but I can't remember where it was.

I remember Dad on the phone with some Navy guy in the 1980's, putting in good words for Mike Theroff, who must have listed Dad as a personal reference in regards to a promotion he was hoping to get.

I remember the used baby crib we bought for Mark - sanded it down and varnished it.

I remember the flimsy plastic baby carrier we bought for Mark. [It would be banned today as unsafe.]

I remember many games of 99 played at Grandma's dining room table.

I remember Grandma's German friend Anna playing the piano in the dining room of 2133.

I remember converting 13 library databases from print to computer.

I remember how Mark used to be very susceptible to strep throat as a child.

I remember putting a penny on the tonearm to keep records from skipping.

I remember having to use a lot of carbon paper before copy machines were in use.

I remember reading my first Stephen King book, Cujo, in 8th grade and then going on to read all his other books up through The Tommyknockers, after which I stopped.

I remember when Louie would jump up on our bed when he heard us stirring in the morning.

I remember when I worked for Rank Insurance in Jefferson City that I had a warm coke with my lunch every day because they had no refrigerator.

Iremember Louise inherited her beautiful singing voice from my mother and Aunt Shirley.

I remember receiving copies of the socialist weekly newspaper The Militant in the mail in high school (?) just because I answered the door once for some random guy selling cheap subscriptions.

I remember when elevators were more difficult to operate than pushing a button, and there were uniformed employees in each one to operate it. You had to tell him what floor you wanted to go.

I remember Aunt Lou Lou giving us kids a Disk-Go-Case half full of her old 45 records back in the late 1970's, but the only three I can recall today are "Immigrant Song" by Led Zeppelin, "Georgy Girl" by The Seekers, and "D.O.A." by Bloodrock.

I remember there was a tradition on Mother's Day to buy a pink carnation for your mother if her mother was still alive and a white carnation for her if her mother had died.

I remember one summer taking care of a nurse's three children (Jack, Gene, and Janet) while their mother worked the early shift (6 am - 3 pm). [My memory is a bit foggy on the timeline. I distinctly remember buying Betty Muse (their mother) a carnation for Mother's Day the year I stayed with the kids. That was May. So perhaps I babysat only on Saturdays until school was out and then started babysitting with them through the summer.] ????

I remember playing Barry Manilow, Donny and Marie, Shaun Cassidy, Captain and Tennille, and Jesus Christ Superstar on the huge stereo cabinet in our living room in the late 1970's.

I remember how much I enjoyed getting very dizzy on the merry-go-round in elementary school.

I remember an extremely shy and quiet guy named Tharin from Postville, Iowa who often accompanied my roommate Steve and I to supper in the Wartburg cafeteria my sophomore year.