There Must Be A Picnic

It’s Sunday. Picnics always happen on Sundays. After church, or not, everyone piles into the car and makes their way to Grandma’s house. Sunday afternoons spent with Sisters, Cousins, Dad, sometimes Mom, Aunts, Uncles, Great-Aunts, Great-Uncles, Dad’s Cousins who are my Cousins too, Grandma, Grandpa, Great-Grandma, Great-Grandpa, and for a few short picnics in my…
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The Wonder That Is Miracle Whip

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I won’t even tell you how long it took me, or how many stores I had to go to, to find a jar of Miracle Whip today. OK, three hours and seven stores. Well, that long and that many stores to find a jar that had an expiration date in the future. There are a…
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An Oesterling 4th of July

SaraDunbar

Sarah Keck (Martha’s Mom, standing), Sarah Dunbar Oesterling sitting on Sarah’s left 4th of July always meant the Oesterling Family Reunion when I was a kid. This wasn’t the BIG Oesterling Reunion with all of the clans, it was just a get together of the immediate family of Albert Oesterling. Albert and Sarah Dunbar Oesterling…
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4th of July

My father pulled the car along the field and parked on the side of the road. We were on our way home from visiting family friends and it was late, for me, not for him. But Dad wanted to show me something, something I had never seen before. We got out of the car and…
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The Table Cloth, Sunday Picnics, and Penny Ante

Who knows where Flossie came up with the idea? I think her siblings teased her about it at first, but then came to treasure the table cloth just as much as Flossie did. After World War II, family picnics became the summer Sunday tradition for the Keck family. These picnics continued until the family became…
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My First Family Photo

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I was being passed around and around the room, from person to person. The room was a mosh pit of friendly hands reaching out to hold me. From the oldest to the youngest, I was there for some sort of celebration. Every now and then a flash of light would blind my eyes. A very…
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Into The Woods

Grandma walked beside me as we walked the ruts that were sometimes a path and other times a road, up the hill behind her house. Out the back door, past the Chestnut Tree, up past the Pine Tree, past the garden, and on. Once we made it past the demarcation point, where the manicured lawn…
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