It all began in 1933 . . . that was a very good year

I guess you could say our story really began way way back . . .

in the year 1933.

That was a very good year . . .

Both my parents were born in 1933.

Dad in Lawrence Kansas . . . to Col. Francis E. Morawetz and Helen Edwina Myers
and
Mom was born in Rocksprings, Wyoming to Issac Christofferson and Mildred Mouritsen

Mom was raised in the LDS faith . . . (Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) and was the youngest of 9 children.

Dad was a convert to the Church and that is a story for another day.

I couldn't begin to do justice to my favorite memories growing up at home in this short post . . . but since we are celebrating 80 years "young" with dad this week . . . I thought I would share a few favorite thoughts . . .

I love that my dad taught me to appreciate many of the finer things in life.  The quiet, the outdoors, the wildflowers, rocks, trees, leaves, soil.  He was an avid gardener.  I can still picture the beautiful yard of our childhood home.  It was humble to be sure but beautiful with green lawns, flowering beds and fruit trees heavy with ripening fruit.   His current summertime home  . . .  the yard during the summer months resembles something right out of Better Homes and Gardens.  I think I learned / earned my green thumb from my dad for certain . . . but I still can't match his tomatoes, pumpkins or green peppers.

We enjoyed the symphony together . . . he taught me how to listen for and identify each instrument and pick out their own unique sounds, rhythms from a full orchestra.  He relayed over and over again the story of Peter and the Wolf.  He would lay on the floor with us and read poetry - the Jabberwocky, Little Boy Blue, The Owl and the Pussy Cat.  Which are all included below so I can read them and reminisce  :)

HaPPY BirthdAY to You DAd!

Here's to another 80 years . . .

Oh . . . and did I forget to mention . . . where I inherited my love for traveling?

From Dad of course!  That's why we had to make a temporary trip to Hawaii for a fine Hawaiian Luau to celebrate his 80th birthday!  Aloha!   The best part is I get to take mom and dad to Kauai for a week in April!  

Little Boy Blue - 
The little toy dog is covered with dust,
   But sturdy and stanch he stands;
And the little toy soldier is red with rust,
   And his musket moulds in his hands.
Time was when the little toy dog was new,
   And the soldier was passing fair;
And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue
   Kissed them and put them there.

"Now, don't you go till I come," he said,
   "And don't you make any noise!"
So, toddling off to his trundle-bed,
   He dreamt of the pretty toys;
And, as he was dreaming, an angel song
   Awakened our Little Boy Blue---
Oh! the years are many, the years are long,
   But the little toy friends are true!

Ay, faithful to Little Boy Blue they stand,
   Each in the same old place---
Awaiting the touch of a little hand,
   The smile of a little face;
And they wonder, as waiting the long years through
   In the dust of that little chair,
What has become of our Little Boy Blue,
   Since he kissed them and put them there.

"Jabberwocky"

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! and through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

THE OWL AND THE PUSSY-CAT

I

The Owl and the Pussy Cat 1 by Edward Lear

The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
'O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
You are,
You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!'

II

The Owl and the Pussy Cat 2 by Edward Lear

Pussy said to the Owl, 'You elegant fowl!
How charmingly sweet you sing!
O let us be married! too long we have tarried:
But what shall we do for a ring?'
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the Bong-tree grows
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
With a ring at the end of his nose,
His nose,
His nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.

III

The Owl and the Pussy Cat 3 by Edward Lear

'Dear pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
Your ring?' Said the Piggy, 'I will.'
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.