Columns

I grew up during the 1940s and 1950s.  In those days, we bought gas at a service station, where they cleaned your windshield, pumped your gas, checked the air in your tires and checked your oil. 
I can recall how strange it felt to pump my own gas for the first time. 
We learned to dance with our sisters and brothers to all of the favorite music of the 50s.  I even taught my brother, Randy, how to dance the polka as we watched the Lawrence Welk Show.   

The past few five months I have been terrified.
Most nights would be filled with restless sleep and recurring nightmares.

In February, my dad was diagnosed with follicular lymphoma.
When my mom told my brother and I over the phone that he had cancer I could barely utter a word.
Although in shock, I asked all the obvious questions.

What happens next?
How bad is it?
Will they be able to get rid of it?

While Memorial Day weekend is a wonderful time for gathering with family and friends for picnics, pool parties, and parades, I write to you with the annual reminder not to forget the true meaning of the event. Memorial Day is a time to remember the brave men and women who have put everything on the line so we may live in freedom in the greatest nation in the world.

I have patiently waited for some summer-like heat to arrive before planting my pepper and tomato plants.  Now that the forecast calls for warm spring nights the coast is clear for summer vegetables!  
Tomatoes love two things:  good drainage and heat.  If you have struggled with tomatoes in the past, consider what makes them most content when preparing the garden and setting your plants out.