This picture was taken in my maternal grandparents’ back yard in about 1944. The crouching child was me and the twig slightly to the left behind me became a sturdy plum tree which produced an abundance of purple fruit every summer. Somewhere in his busy schedule of a full time job with overtime and a part time business of his own, my father managed to stop there and pick plums and bring them home where my mother canned the bulk of them every year for many years. I remember just opening a jar, taking a spoon and bringing them to my room where I enjoyed eating them while reading or doing art work. My cousins also enjoyed the bounty of the summer crop.
When my sister and brother-in-law established a homestead in St. Charles, Illinois, my father brought them seedlings from that plum tree which took well to the similar climate and soil.
Now my niece and her family are nurturing another generation of plum trees in the yard where they are starting to build a house up in Washington State.