Nearly eight decades ago, I was born in a lying-in home in a small town in northwestern North Dakota.
That was a private home where a midwife would help pregnant women deliver their babies.
I believe there was a doctor, too, but no hospital.
Me and my big brother Wayne
I spent 28 of the next 29 years living in North Dakota.
I remember a carefree youth where youngsters could wander the town by themselves or with friends without fear.
Romey, Roger, Jim, Jerry, Me, and Boop
We would come home for lunch and at sunset for supper (what is called dinner now).
The same "rules" applied when the family went north 100 miles to fishing vacations at Lake Carlyle in Saskatchewan.
That's probably where I learned to swim.
Me and Jim
We also roved through the woods, "discovering" trails and visited the small store for Cadbury's chocolate bars.
And back home in Stanley we never seemed to mind the long winters filled with blizzards.
We'd go out for snowball fights and ice-skating when temperatures were 20 below zero.
Mom and I
It's a long way to the age we live in now but it brought to mind an old song about the state.
Give a listen.
In spite of the "we nailed it" comment at the end, I remember singing it with self-mockery of our Scandinavian accents: "Y'ought-ta go ta Nor'-Dakota".
Yah, well, let's have a cuppa coffee and some lefse.
It's a great day in the neighborhood.
