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Date: | Tue, 21 Dec 2004 18:11:10 -0700 |
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I can well remember growing up in Des Moines, Iowa. The house we lived in
had an upstairs but it was one of those upstairs built up against the sides
of the sloping roof. We had no heat upstairs except what came through the
register in each of the two bedrooms. At night, during those cold winter
Iowa nights, we slept with so many blankets, you could hardly breathe. We
also got to use the hot water bottle to keep our feet warm. My mom used to
tell how they would use warm bricks in their beds when she was little. My
Uncle Fred lived with us the last 9 years of his life. He almost made it to
92 years of age. He was born on Christmas day, too. He said that when they
would take the slay, pulled by a couple of horses, into town, his dad would
put lots of hay down, cover it with thick blankets, and then warm bricks
near the fireplace, and then put more blankets over the bricks. Then the
kids got in and more blankets piled on top of the kids and off to town they
would go. That was in Kansas.
Phil.
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