In any case, THAT'S MY SOIL! My relatives would all laugh at such an extravagant claim, given that I could never pass for anything but a citified bookworm. Still, I think that "roots will out." I may avoid the San Joaquin Valley but I cannot hide from it. (Cf. article below.)
Here is something I wrote on 14 December 1979:
Earth, water, wind, and fire--
These feed my starveling soul.
Intricate rhythms of particular leaves,
branchwoven, splendid, define the sky
and echo the dancing sun.
I take frequent walks
and am often silent.
Farmor said she had two ears
and one mouth.
* Farmor (Swedish for father's mother) refers to my paternal grandmother, Marie Katherine Strid (née Moberg). She was born on 1 December 1887 in Stockholm, Sweden, and came to California with a gracious letter recommending her to care for children. I have a copy of the letter (in Swedish) somewhere. She and Farfar (grandfather) met in Kingsburg, California, a small farming community that once was dominated by its immigrant Swedish population. They were married on 17 December 1907 and my father, the firstborn, came along promptly the following September. Grandmother died on 5 January 1974. My mother died on the same day in 1985. Our neighbor Betty in El Cerrito died on 5 January also. Twelfth Night is always wistful for me.
Although I am hazy on a couple of identifications, we have here the following (l. to r.): Uncle John Calvin (?); Aunt Hazel; Farmor = Grandmother Strid & Farfar = Grandfather Strid; my sisters Iva & Shirley (foreground); my parents Paul (hiding) & Hallie; Great-grandmother Maria Augusta Westin Moberg holding unidentified baby (Cousin Glen?); Aunt May; Uncle Lloyd.
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