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A blog that started out as a political rant, but then I thought, "HEY! How's about a blog where all the Hausfeld cousins can keep in touch on the Internet?" So here it is. Post newsy tidbits often. Share photos. Keep all of us updated....city to city, coast to coast, country to country! (Besides, that newsletter was NEVER gonna get written!). Think of this as one big Hausfeld Family Reunion at Shelter House No. 1 in the park at Coldwater, Ohio. Water balloons, anyone?
This is a test only. Ignore. I'm just testing to see whether the new Google Blogger really works.

Everyone should have a copy of Eric's memory book by now, but if you haven't received it (or want a printed copy), please let me know by sending an email? I'll get it to you as quickly as possible.
Vinzenz sent this photo, and I think it's the way we all remember Eric....smiling, happy, with his lovely wife Mary Ann and just being Eric.

Cindy sent these photos yesterday of Mom and Dad together on Thanksgiving at Carol's house. They eventually all drove out to the farm together, where Joe and Ruth sat on the couch on and held hands, just like old times. Even though mom's memory isn't all that great, the next day, when Cindy asked her how her Thanksgiving had been, she said without hesitation (and a bit of a smile), "I got to spend it with my family."
Hopper and Shannon and Shaun outdid themselves at Sunday's cousins' party, and we're all convinced that Sharon had a hand, too, especially configuring the weather for such a beautiful day.
The food was great, the company/companionship was even better, the new backyard playhouse/barn is a thing of beauty, and Vince & Jenny's new-house plans indicate that next year's party will be at their place!
Thanks, Hopper...it was great to see everyone and personally, nice to snuggle with 5-year-old girls on my lap again and say silly things.
I think we should all gather again soon for a slumber party in the attic of the playhouse....any takers?
No, no one has died, but I feel I need to give a little tribute here to a family friend who's going away next week, and this blog is the only outlet I can think of right now to do it justice.
One of the reasons that Teakwood Avenue became "home" in 1983 is because it's a nice, friendly old house surrounded by lots of nice, friendly trees. Most of them are big old oaks, similar to the ones at mom and dad's farm...big, hulky old trees that have been there probably 100 or so years. They provide nice shade and a sense of belongingness to that square plot of land on Teakwood Avenue. I've even learned when to shut the windows in the spring to keep all the oak pollen outside so that Tim (and later Squeak, the cat) didn't erupt with nasty effusive allergy attacks.
But in the front of the house, one near the front door and two on the extra side lot, were big old pine trees, too. The blue spruce died long ago and is now a productive flower bed, and it was sad to see that go because Sara used to love spreading a blanket underneath it and playing there, hidden by its green boughs from the outside world. Somewhere, I have a photo of her at about age 3 poking her head out, just checking..... I love that photo.
But on the side lot, in front near the sidewalk, are two big Norway pines, I think, and over the years, one of them became known to my kids and every kid who visited our house as "the climbing tree." It's tall, but it's also one of those trees that was perfect for climbing....branches spaced just so, and branches starting close to the ground, like a stairway to the very top....such that Sara used to climb ALLLLLL the way to the top (a flash of pink or purple amid the greenery at the top) and Tim would follow, trying to see who get the highest...yelling down at the neighbors from up there...hiding from the world, thinking no one would see. They took their dolls and ropes and balls and trucks and toys of all kinds up into that tree. They taught their friends how to climb.
I loved that tree.
But over the winter, it died....the branches started curling up at the end, and it turned brown and then browner and then brown, until only a few pieces of green still exist at the top, and most of the pine cones have fallen off.
Not sure what did it in, although a fungus that's killed other pines in the neighborhood is a prime suspect. Last year, Richard and I spent most of the summer ripping out a vine that seemed to have wrapped itself around the base of the tree, and it really seemed to enjoy the new breathing space.
At least until it died.
So next week, the guy from Hilltop Tree Service will charge me $350 to take it down. I'll miss that old tree. And I just wanted to take this opportunity, maybe in the spirit of the Ent World, to say "Thanks. Thanks, climbing tree...for all the hours of fun. Thanks for teaching my kids climbing skills. Thanks for the shade and the natural privacy fence you became. Thanks for the crackly pine needles for the fireplace. Thanks for just being there. Thanks for being a home to nests of robins and chickadees and sparrows and the occasional owl. Thanks for the pine cones at Christmas and the occasional scent that reminded me of Maine."
I'll miss that tree.