About ME!

One day in late spring, my husband and I was driving south on York Street in Kennebunk, Me. We came upon what looked like a white ball of white yarn in the road. We drove around it and stopped. We discovered that it was a bunch of little baby skunks trying to get the mother skunk to get up. She had been run over by a car. We took the six little babies and put them in the trunk of the Corvair, which was in the front of the car. We took them back to the farm and put them in a barrel for the night. I called a local Vet who told me to call a NH Vet in the morning. The NH Vet deodorized them and kept one for doing the operations. We kept one and gave the rest to people we knew, that would take good care of them.

My little Peppy La Pew grew into a beautiful black and white pet. I took her everywhere! As I drove she would ride with her little head tucked under my right arm, and once in awhile she would get down and go under my seat into the back. On one occasion, myself and my friend, on our way to watch my husband play semi-pro football we stopped at the traffic cycle in Portsmouth NH, and we picked up three Cadets from the Maine Academy. The three all hopped in the back seat and we proceeded. I told the three Cadets that I had a pet skunk in the car and not to be freighten it she came into the back by going under my seat. "OK" was the response that I got. A little awhile later they yelled and I saw in the mirror that all three was standing on my back seat. After stopping and retrieving my Peppy, we continued. My friend and I kept Peppy in the front. After leaving the Cadets off, we when on the the football game and gained free admission on Peppy's behalf. She loved hot dogs from the football food stand.

That fall I took the skunk to a horseback riding club get-to-gather at a lodge. I made sure I was late and I open the door and let "Peppy" go inside. Many were screaming and some standing on chairs. I quickly jumped inside and gathered up the little "Peppy" to much laughter and yelling at me. Oh Well! I now have a Black and White Pomeranian Dog- "La La" (she is a retired champion show dog from Canada). "La La" is twice the size of the skunk. Before the Virus, I used to take "La La" and her pew pad to church each Sunday.

Laugh a little!

Mom canned hundreds of jars of vegetables and small jars of jams, jelly with wax on top, "if we picked the berries". No berries, apples or crap apples, NO JAM OR JELLY. My dad had a barrel in the celler, that he would make cider in. It started out sweet but over time it became hard. My dad never purchased what he could make from himself. Mom did not drink anything beside water or TEA... Once in a while my dad would sneak into the cellar for a drink. He even tried going throw a small door through the woodshed for a quick drink. Suddenly, there would be a loud stomping upstairs and Mom would yell "bring up some carrots,etc, while your down there". Dad would say "I crawled around near the foundation of the house. How did she know I was down there." During the winter we would grade the potatoes and bag them up into peck bags and some fifty lb. bags, for sale to stores and restaurants. Many, Many days, long days. I'm nuts: Because I have worked on this Genealogy of the Kimball families of which I am one, but not on this website. I wanted to do a website of Kimballs, but I didn't know how. I called the Kennebunk High School to obtain the name of a student that would take on teaching of website design to an old lady in the undertaking. They referred me to a young senior that has worked out beyond my wildest dreams. I am 85 yrs old. (Monica)is a Medical Student and has become a shining light in my life. I lost my only daughter in 2010 and lost the youngest of my three sons, Dec 3rd, 2018, He died from Multiple Systems Atrophy (MSA) a medical disease, due to his Military exposure to burn pits in Kuwait and Yemen. She not only took me as a student but someone that didn't have the best Computer skills. I have had an unusual life, from surviving being hit by a car, to driving horses, oxen, snow plow truck, school bus driver, riding horses in a Gymkhana racing and the military service.

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Above is a look at the farmhouse both old and new. The picture on the left is of the circa 1890 original farm house. George and Ernest Kimball purchased the "Jones Farm" about 1921. Ernest, later purchased George's share and continued farming until he retired. Ernest built a new house on the other side of the road and sold the family to his son-law and daughter. The house domer was added probable because of the increase in the number of children.

In the two pictures above are of the fire on June 22, 2015, was the former home of Ernest and Jessie Kimball and their five children. Ernest, was one of the thirteen children of Horace and Annie Kimball. Myra, the youngest child of Ernest & Jessie K, and her husband Gerald and their four children owned the property until 1981. No Kimball was in ownership of this property since 1981.

The photo above was taken at the funeral of Joan K., wife of Ernest R. Kimball in 2006. This the only picture I know of that shows all 5 children of Ernest L. and Jessie M. KIMBALL. This also includes, 5 grandchildren and 1 great grandchild. Front Row L. to R., Annie K. Smith, Annie's daughter, Rebecca A DeWitt, Hazel Austin, Inez C. Kimball, Inez's daughter, Judith A Miller. Second Row L. to R. Myra J. Sparkowich, Sharon Zimmerman and her father Ernest R. Kimball. We called Ernest by his middle name "Roger". Back Row L. to R. Myra's grandson, Mark J.Daniels, and son Frank M Sparkowich, and Ernest's son Eugene Kimball. Inez, Hazel, and Myra lived in Kennebunk. Inez has since passed away. The stone to the right is of Joan and Ernest R. Kimball, in 1910. They are buried in Rochester, NY.

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The above oxen photo on the left is of Ernest somewhere about 1921 after Ernest and brother George purchased the farm in Kennebunk. The photo on the right is of Ernest somewhere about 1958/60 with a young pair of oxen. Note: The stance is almost indentical.

The picture at the top left is of Dad holding the mother of her new colt (Dan) while Annie(6) and Inez(6) are petting the baby colt. Any animal mother is very protective of their offspring. On the right is a picture of Dan as a fully grown horse pulling a cultervator. On the left, under the picture of "baby" Dan is Dad's team, Frank and Dan, on the harrow. Dan is trying to get a bite of grass. After the ground is plowed it has to be gone over several times with a disk harrow to break up the sod, and then smoothed with a drag (I will tell you more about a drag later). Here they are just in time to have a break for Ernest5 , while his daughter Hazel (6)take a picture of her son and Ernest's5 first grandson Carl7.

"Peter the pony". What a handful! Annie the oldest child of Ernest L. Kimball, is taking a picture of her siblings on Peter. From L. to R., Inez, Hazel, Roger, and me (Myra).


This is a picture of Inez coming in the farm driveway on Peter the pony. For whatever reason, she seemed to be the only one in the family that could handle him. Maybe because she spent more time with him.

"Skippy the wonder dog." She herded the cattle, eliminated the woodchucks, babysat us kids and even gave us sled rides. Brother Roger is waiting his turn. Roger and I loved the snow. We had our own ski hill called Kennebunk Ski Slid.

The Photo at right is of Inez, shoveling out the doorway to the cowbarn. I am reading this photo as I know things were when we were young. It appears that Inez who would have been 22yrs old in 1950, was doing what needed to be done (as she always did). Dad would start plowing (when he knew he would need to make two rounds in a big storm) going to peoples snow filled driveways. He always started with the

Doctors, Police(2) and Firemen (several volunteers) first. Then he started his route of many, many more driveways. He would then return home to mike 30 head of cattle. Later, you will see the Packard Tractor. I think Hazel was with her considering the second shovel and someone was taking the picture. For many years this was a open top tractor. Sometime Dad would return home with ice on his eyebrows. Mom located a clear face shield like a welder would wear.

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In the lower left hand corner you can see a picture of our farm. In 1946 the Maine turnpike took approximately about a 300+ foot wide strip from the edge of our farm, from the Cat Mousam Road to the Mousam River. This piece included our artesian well and this put my dad out of the Dairy business. Dad did not let the animals drink out of the Mousam River due to the factories discharge upstream. He didn't think it was safe for his kids or his animals. The Maine Turnpike Authority offered to dig a new well next to the house. Dad tried to negotiate with them about the placement but that fell on deaf ears. His objection was that the placement was so close the our farm building, with a barn cellar, which could expose the animals and house drinking water to drainage from the barn cellar. Dad dug a trench by hand using a shovel and pickaxe, from the farmhouse to a spring of our land. This was about a distance of 900 feet. The spring was not strong enough to support dairy cattle, so it was closed down. Dad started a truck farming (8 acres potatoes and 8 acres sweet corn) and we had a few beef animals. This was very hard work. We irrigated these crops from the Mousan River to the top of the ski hill. We lugged aluminum pipe each of these pipe were 20' long and 4" diameter. 4" was used up to the top of the hill, then we placed the 20' x 3" was used between the rows. Each piece was joined together by a galvanized iron coupling, then there was the 4ft risers used when the crop was less then 3ft. high (like potatoes) and 6ft risers, when crop was greater than 3ft. in height (like corn), of galvanized iron pipe and bronze nozzles. I would put these coupling on my arms , three on each, to transport (from row to row) or storage. My arms were thin at that time.

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From the Pictorial Record called "GOLDEN MEMORIES by The Winnipeg Tribune". The Visit of King George VI and Queen Elizabeth to Canada and the United States, May 17 to June 15,1939."History-Making tributes in U.S.A". I was about 3-1/2 yrs old, in 1939, but I can remember how very excited my mother, a Canadian, was those few days. That, I believe, is my very earliest memory.

This photo is of George VI standing in reverence before the tomb of George Washington, the man who led the American revolution against George III and the British connection, is George VI of Great Britian.

On June 9th 1939, King George VI and the Queen of Great Britian, visited Mount Vernon, VA with President and Mrs Roosevelt. As he honored the heros of America's revolutionary war. The King is shown laying a wreath at hero of U.S. forces as Great Britain's ally in the Great war. The King is shown laying a wreath at the Unknown Soldier's tomb in the Arlington (Va.) National Cemetery.

With the 1939 skyline of New York as a backdrop, the King and Queen are shown (first car) as they proceeded up the Westside highway along the Hudson, enroute to the New York World's Fair, soon after they landed at "The Battery", the June 10, while thousands of New York residents cheered.

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All of these bird pictures are from my yard, which used to be a hayfield. The text info for these birds are from either "The Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Birds-Eastern Region" or "National Geographic Society Field Guide to Birds of North America."

The Maine State Bird, Black-Cap Chickadee. All decked out with Black Cap and throat(bib), white cheeks, gray back,and dull white underparts. Wing heathers narrowly and indistinctly edged with white. They are very similar to the Carolina Chickadee, Mexican, Mountain. They are quick and hard to get a picture of. They are everywhere all year round; woodland and open land, suburban areas, birdfeeders in the winter. They call out they name withckick-a-dee-dee-dee and a second lower sound of fee-bee, fee-bee.

The American Robin, According to the "Field Guide of North American Birds by National Geographic Society", is Gray-brown above with darker head and tail; bill yellow; underparts brick red; lower belly white. In the eastern birds, the tail has white corners, conspicuous in flight. Juvenile's underparts are tinged with cinnamon and heavily spotted with brown. They brightens both the woodland and the lawns of suburbia with their bright song of cheerily, cheer-up, cheerio, they also have a call of a rapidtut tut tut. Often seen on lawns with their head cocked to the side in search for earthworms. They also eat insects and berries. They winter in moist forests, swamps, throughout the southern half of U.S. and along the seashore of Maine to Mexico and West coast.

Redwing Black Birds-- Adult males have dark red shoulder patches tipped with buff-yellow. Sometimes the dark red shoulder patches are not visible when perched, only the buff-yellow. They are visible when in flight. The females are very dark brown above with some much lighter streaking around the neck area. They only visit Maine in the summer. They are rare in Maine. Their song is a liquid, gurgling konnk-la-reee, ending in a trill. The most common call is a chacknote. Their range is from Alaska and Southern Newfoundland South to Florida, the Gulf Coast and Central Mexico. Winters regularly north to Pennsylvania and British Columbia.


The Northern Cardinal with their conspicuous crest; cone shaped reddish bill. Male is red overall, with black face. Female is buffy-brown or buffy-olive, tinged with red on wings, crest, and tail. Juvenile browner overall, bill dull brown; juvenile female lacks red tones. The Cardinal, named after the red robes worn by Roman Catholic cardinals, has extended its range northeastward into southern Canada in recent decades. Cardinals are aggressive birds, and occupy territories year-round. Both sexes are accomplished songsters and may be heard at any time of year with their coe cue cue, cheer cheer cheer, purty, purty, purty, not just spring like most birds. Seeds are their main diet and insects are taken during their breeding season.

Baltimore Orioles are fun to watch at close range by providing them with with orange slices. These were formerly considered two species: the "Baltimore Oriole" in the east and "Bullock's Oriole" in the west. The male Baltimore Oriole has a black hood and upper back. Mr. and Mrs. 'O' have the same wing markings with much brighter coloring on the male.

This female Baltimore Oriole which is brownish-olive above with blackish markings on head, belly dull orange or rusty color. This female Baltimore Oriole, is kind of rusty gold color belly but has many of the same wing and tail colorings. She looks like she doesn't want to be watched while she is eating.

Eastern Bluebirds are different in that they are scarce and amazingly stunning. Males have chestnut throat, sides of neck, breast, sides and flanks; contrasting white belly, white undertail coverts. Male is uniformly deep blue above; female grayer. Other subspecies of bluebirds include; Southeastern Arizona, Western, Southwestern, Mountain. I have encouraged their nesting here with unique boxes and enough boxes for other birds.

This bird appeared on my lawn just in time to have a picture taken. This was in early spring. I may be wrong, but I believe this bird is an Eastern Bluebird, but could be a Soutwestern or Western Bluebird. I did not get a good shot of the bill, so can't tell if it is a Eastern, Western or Southwestern Blue Bird. I will leave this for the experts to decide.

Both of these pictures are of the Downy Woodpecker. The white back generally identifies both Hairy and the similar Downy Woodpeckers. The Downy is about 6" long. The Hairy is larger at about 9-1/4" long, with a longer bill. The outer tail feathers are entirely white. I generally can only tell by the height or width of the suet cage. This cage is 7-1/2" high. The Downy calls include a loud, dull-sounding pik, and also a descending rattle. The Hairy call is a sharp distinctive peek, and is louder than the Downy.

This is a female Downy which is the smallest of these two Woodpecker look alikes. They are about 6". The Females in both the Downy and Hairy look similar except for the length of their bill, and what looks to be a slightly rounder head than the Hairy. The males of both the Downy and Hairy have Red blot on head, and the Male and Female Hairy's have a head that looks somewhat flatter on the crown. Hairy Woodpeckers are much longer at about 9" long. This picture was taken from kitchen window.

This bird is the newest addition to my front yard in Kennebunk, ME. I believe it is a Red Bellied Woodpecker as that is the only bird in my bird books that even come close in markings and coloring. These two that came together. Their heads were bright orange. To quote the the experts,"approximately 9-1/2" long, Black and white barred back; white uppertail "coverts; central tail feathers barred. Crown and nape red in males; females have red nape only. Small reddish patch or tinge on belly". Their range is chiefly southeastern United States west to Texas, ranging north to Minnesota, Michigan, and Connecticut, but extending northward into southern New England. Call is a rolling churr or chiv-chiv.This smaller Red-bellied comes now almost every day.

This large bird has much the same markings and coloring, the head was all bright orange but much much larger than my "Birding Books" have listed for the male-bellied woodpecker. This bird is on a suet block feeder the same size as the Red-bellied woodpecker pictured at l. This bird was about 1/4 the size of a Wild Turkey and at least 10 times the size of the Red Bellies pictured in my birding books. I have another picture up on a tree limb, but the bird is tail end to camera. The wing feathers appear to be tips in dark brown or black, and the shoulder feathers show some darkened area.

These are male Gold Finch, except for the female on top of the hanger crook. These birds are bright yellow with black cap; black wings show white bars, yellow shoulder patch, uppertail and undertail coverts white; tail black-and-white. A little side note: I have been privileged to watch this bird play on the edge of the lawn where it meets the tall unmowed grass. They would light on a tall spear of grass which would bend. They would flutter their wings to straight the spear. Then stop so it would bend again. They flutter their wings again. They would do this over and over, for quite some time.

This picture is not upside down, the bird is. This is a female Gold Finch. Female is duller overall, olive above; lacks black cap and yellow shoulder patch. White undertail coverts distinguish female from most Lesser Goldfinches, which are not visitors to our region of U.S. Both males and female would play on the tall grass, that I explain about in the Male Finch, text. Juvenile plumage, held into November, has cinnamon buff wing and rump. Song is a lively series of trills, twitters, and tweet notes. Distinctive flight call, per-chil-o-ree. Widely known as "wild canary."

Spring is when all things come alive. Plants like Crocus, Snow Drops, Tulips, and Hyacinths begin to poke through the earth. Next come the Lily-of-the-Valley's, Johnny Jump ups, Iris and then the gardens are alive again. Last but not least is the constant tweet of birds all day and into the night, followed by little birds.

This bush is shelter for many Chipping Sparrows and other Sparrows. The white spots in this bush and the spire are just a few of the Sparrows. The holes are the quick hiding places, when the American Kestral Hawk or the neighbor's black cat shows up. If someone opens the house door, car drives in, birds hide.

This Arborvitae Spire is at the southern corner of my garage and shelter to many bird. The white spots are birds facing south with the bush sheltering them from the North/ Northeast Maine Winds. The Mocking birds visit each year. They perfers the Blue Spruce branches.They have two nests in the Big Spruce.

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Below on the left is a beautiful Blue Iris. This Iris was given to me by a co-worker about ten years ago. Below on the right is Pink Lupins. This Lupin is self seeding as it appears at will, in other gardens. I think my bird friends, probably helps my garden variety.

Below the Roses on the right are Memorial Roses in memory of the death of my daughter and on the left are Wild Roses on the banking behind my house and the Roses are beautiful and spredding very fast, but cannot be seen by passing traffic .

The photo below is my pot lady. Like myself she is getting old and now she needs crutches this year. I saw this in the "Birds and Blooms" magazine and copied the idea. The Rhododendron is one of two as well as the Holly Bush next to it that have gotten out of control.

Below is a Variegated Weigela and Arborvitae Spires. These are close when the hawk appears. The Mock Orange on the right was transplanted from the farm house. My husband gives it a hair cut which I fuss about but it really is was to close to the driveway.

Below is a Rose of Sharon bush. I have several, that was give to me by my niece Sharon Z. of Webster, NY., daughter of Ernest R.and Joan Kimball and (granddaughter) of Ernest and Jessie Kimball. Looking from my driveway over the culdesac, to a house that is on the site of our former ski house.

We have more trees and bushes for the birds. We have a Mountain Ash for the Cedar Waxwings and two very large Holly Bushes with the bright red berries for the winter birds. In my mind, this is still a farm for the wild animals and Birds alike. We are here for such a short time, they brighten the days, weeks and, years.

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As a person who did not go to the beach as a child because the farm was too busy at that time of year, and water was not my friend. (I almost drowned as a young child, at a pond, while on a church picnic.) However, when I was old enough to drive on my own, I found the beaches crouded and could not find a parking place. When the weather turns warm the beaches fill with umbrellas, beach chairs, etc.

I know the beach is beautiful! When I read this piece in the Kennebunk Baptist Church, September, 2017 Newletter, I thought it worth repeating.

"THE BEACHES OF KENNEBUNK"

We who live in Kennebunk are truly blessed to live so close to the sea. It was one of those hot steamy days when the air was heary with moisture, the temperature hovered around 900 , and felt like a hundred! Every step I took seemed an effort, flowers were drooping with the heat, and the leaves on the trees were hanging limply waiting for a breeze that just didn't come. We decided it was time to go to the beach and catch some sea breezes. It was pretty there as always, but still so hot, and flags were hanging down not moving. We sat on one of the benches and waited and watched the tide come in at dusk. then suddenly, as the sun was setting, the sea breeze came in over the ocean, and everything changed. The wind felt wonderful, every moment bringing us new energy, refreshig body and soul. The change was so sudden and so complete, it was like a revival, like water for a thirsty soul, like the renewing of the Spirit Jesus Christ. The bible speaks about the Wind, in John 4:8, and the Thirst and Water in John 4:14. ...Praise God for this beautiful place to live, with the sea, rivers, beaches, trees and countryside."

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This is fall looking Northerly, from my deck.

Looking Northeasterly, from my deck. Beautiful! Woopy! Winter is on the way.

The beautiful fall leaves have gone and the fall skies have given way to the angry late fall/winter winds. The wild apple trees still show a few apples that the deer and turkeys will glean food from. The deer that are pictured in an earlier picture are for forging under a wild apple tree all left overs until covered with snow. They come often but only stay a short time.

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Winter was always fun on the farm in our youth because there was no haying, no planting or harvesting corn or picking up potato etc. Some summers required lugging irrigation pipe. From my home now built on the old farm and looking from my deck down over from the top of the ski hill toward the Mousam River, I remember when! Even a light ice storm in 2013, is beautiful. This brings back memories of how fast the homemade toboggan would go on the crust.

These are the Greatgrand children of Ernest/Jessie Kimball and grandchildren of Myra (Kimball)/Gerald Sparkowich. Sliding down a very large hill on a very cold day which makes for a very fast ride, getting faces full of snow. For the perspective of this hill; the picture shows about two thirds of the total hill. My home was built between two vertical hills. The daylight basement opens just above the top of the hill in the picture and the basement ceiling is just slightly below the top of the upper hill.

This is the kids half-way up to the top, of the larger part of the hills. They stop to catch the breath. After several trips up the hill they did not need any other physical exercise. In my day we had a rope tow as my father owned the Kennebunk Ski Slide.

These children are the great-grand-children of Ernest & Jessie Kimball, the orginal Kimball owners of the property. These children are on the little hill with our home between them and the large hill is to steep and long for this age group.

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"PLACE IN MY HEART"

This is my KIMBALL story, as I remember it. I was the youngest of 5 children: Annie, Inez, Hazel, Roger and myself. At about 4 or 5 years of age, I began skiing downhill on a hill at our family dairy farm. This actually included two hills. One was a small hill (approx.75-85ft) long with a vertical drop of about 20-30ft, leading to a larger hill (300 ft) with a vertical drop of about 100 ft.

Skis in the 40's consisted of narrow boards with turned up ends and tow straps to slide the boots into. Dad made our skis by steaming the toe part of the thin Oak wood strip, over the steaming water of milk bottle washing tubs and bending them around the fence posts of the cow yard, and securing the boards in that position until cured. My Dad, also built our 8 ft toboggan by this steaming method. Once cured into a curve, it was secured with rawhide straps. Our boots were either work boots of leather or rubbers over our shoes. My Mom would put plastic from plastic grain bag over my socks to keep them dry, if snow went inside, which it often did, we had a small cabin (formerly a soap making house) which had moved over to the hill and Dad poured a cement floor and built benches so we could warm our feet in the large Fieldstone fireplace. This fireplace was one of two built by a neighbor who was a master mason. The other fireplace was on a little knoll near a large skating pond that Dad made by damming up a tiny brook that ran through a low area at the bottom of the hill, shielded from skiers by a tree area.

My Dad cut and split the firewood for both fireplaces home by hand. This fireplace wood was hauled to the ski hill, on the toboggan. We also had a propane gas grill in the cabin. My sisters cooked hot dogs and hamburgers on the gas grill for anyone who wanted to buy them and the two youngest siblings. What fun! Thank God that the Government had not created the sales tax dept or licensing, etc. etc. All cooking utensils had to be taken home each night and washed, dried, packaged and then along with more hotdogs, hamburgers, buns, wood for the fireplace hauled on the toboggan, back for the next day.

The first few years, I did very little skiing but lots of sliding as I got tired of chasing the skis down hill when I fell and the skis came off. Mom bought new snow suits for my brother and myself, what a thrill. Dad made a ski tow which would toe the skiers from the bottom of the hill to the top of the largest part of the hills and a capstan that the rope would make three or four wraps around before continuing on up the hill. This required a skiier to get off and back on after the capstan to go up to the very top of the hill and that was where the tow motor was, which had a safety switch that if the rope that ran through a metal eyelit would shut the motor off if anything touched it. I was told by may father to never get on the two with my sled. That work for me until Dad left my brother with the running the tow motor, while he when up to the farmhouse to get more gasoline. Of course, that was the time I was decided to try it. My foot became tangled with the tow rope and the rope on my sled, and I could not get it out. I hollered, and yelled. Three male skiers, who skied on the hill often, came to the rescue and they all got on the rope which stalled the motor. They knew it would. They were LLoyd Nadeau, and two brothers names Harry and Luther Durham. I was punished by being sent to the house for a few days. Dad did make me a pair of skis, which I got very tied of chasing when I fell down and they came off and he took away my sled. Dad finally made two more things that made a big difference in my love of winter. Dad first tried using canning jar rubbers around the toe of our boots and the ski strap. Then he made a cup shaped thing of leather strap, that went over to tow of my boots and back around the heel of our boots, to keep our feet from coming out of the skis. The straps and ties are now metal, known as bindings.

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My Mom was the worlds' best cook. She came to America from Canada (at age 13 yrs) as kitchen help for some wealthy people (Coles) in Boston. They had a summer home at the Kennebunk Beach, Maine. That is where she met my dad who was a delivery teamster in that early time. She made Parker House Rolls that were to die for. She would make the dough in a very large bowl (which I still have) set aside near the wood stove to rise. She would go about her (many) other chores, like bottling milk. She would then shape the dough into rolls or clover leaf rolls, put in baking pans, and set aside for the second rising.

One day, I remember while mom was outside, I touched one of the rolls. This caused it to become smaller and I tried to fix it by rolling each third of the roll in the palm of my hand, poking my finger up in the middle, just like Mom did. Put this back in the tin. Needless to say, the dough didn't rise very much and was not shaped just like the others. Mom only said as she looked at the pan, "did you learn anything"? Guess which roll was put on my plate for supper?


During the summer haying, I followed Mom to the hayfield where she helped hand-rake all the hay scattering to be picked up later by the hay loader. I had on a little sundress and leather sole shoes because the hay stubble would stick in my feet. We were sitting, resting on the bottom of the ski jumpers' chute. I climbed up the chute, and without a thought, sat down and slid down the chute on my bottom, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, all the way down. No stopping! For the next two weeks, my mother picked splinters, as they festered from my bottom and my hands, that I had used trying to stop. I never went down any chute again, summer or winter.

This is a car like the 1929 Packard Car that my Dad had before it got a severe haircut. This car was used once a year for a long fall day trip up around the White Mountains. This trip included Mom, Dad, Uncle Clarence, Aunt Bessie and five children. Aunt Bessie and Uncle Clarence didn't have any children. I was about 5 or 6 or so, when the Packard was taken to the motor (barber) shop for its hair cut. The mammouth haircut created the snow-plow you see. This tractor was also used on the farm some, but less then Dad's large work horses, because it didn't do well on the steep hill or the clay roadway around that steep hill. My brother liked driving the tractor. He loved automotive things. My Dad built the snowplows out of Oak planks. He built 3 plows and a large wing for the side. The picture shows the tractor with a V Plow on front and a straight push plow on the back. The largest front plow waa very large plow for the bigger storms. This plow looked like the "cow catcher" on the front of a train with a V plow on top. This was used to lift the snow up and out over high banks. Dad rode this open top tractor for days at a time, plowing over 200 customers. He would be gone for two to three days on the big storms. Sometimes he would come home with ice on his eyebrows. He finely built a cab on it. When I got my drivers license at age 16yrs Dad purchased a small jeep for me. Yes, to plow snow with. In later years I had bigger vehicles and became the first female snowplower in the area. I never wanted my dad to know or be contacted when I got stuck. I always managed to get un-stuck even if I had to take the seat apart to put the padding under a wheel for traction. He also built a very large freezer. This was long before home freezers. The outside was made of tongue and grove boards with 4" cork liner inside, and a heavy tin liner covering the cork liner I was always in awe of my Dad. This farm was full of wonders and suprises; Deer, Moose, Red Squirrel, Mountain Lion, Coyotes, Fisher, Wild Turkeys, and more.

The picture of the deer was taken from my living room window, on the first day of hunting season. Myra's husband had left our area to go hunting elsewhere. I could not resist taking this picture. The turkeys are hard to keep from the lawn. I use two blocks of wood and bang them together. The red squirrel is a stranger that appeared this year and now for the best story of all is the Moose.
During a Motorhome trip in up state ME we stopped to assess what we were doing and going on the woods road. I had always wanted to see a Moose. I got out of the Motorhome and spotted a large male Moose which stood up. I got my camera and walked a few feet toward the moose (with my husband yelling me to get back in the Motorhome). I took a couple of pictures. Suddenly a second moose stood up. They were monsters with one having those large antlers. I was so excited I had my pictures. I could not wait to get the film to the drug store for development. They sent the film out with a two day return which I paid extra for. I retrieved the pictures. I ripped open the envelope and got the biggest surprise. I couldn't even see the moose. I took the negatives back and asked for a 8 X 10 pictures. To my surprise I still could just barely find the moose. A year later I when out on my deck and surprise, surprise there was a moose eating off a small tree on the cul-de-sac next to my home. I retreated to the house for my camera. I went out the front door to sneak around to get a good picture and there was my neighbor taking pictures. He had a big camera so I backed away. He had his pictures developed and brought me a picture with a big apology for he had done what I did before. WRONG LENS! His was even worse than mine. So all you can see is my pictue. Look hard and in the very middle you can see the moose standing and next to it is a second moose a little further away.

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Right Time - Wrong Place

I have always been in either the right place at the wrong time or the wrong place at the right time.

At 5 years of age, I was hit by a car while crossing the road from the school bus. My three older sisters were on the bus. I was told that after I was hit, my sister, Inez, picked me up, held me in her arms, while the car that hit me took me home. I was told that I was taken to the Doctor. And the Doctor picked the dirt out of the back of my head and scalp which had been torn and lapped up over my hair. I laid on a make-shift bed (A very large, padded top, blanket chest) in the kitchen so Mom could watch me as I was in and out of consciousness for a couple or three weeks.

At the age of 6 yrs, during a foot race with my brother, I ended up with my face in a barbed wire fence. I wear the large scar on my left cheek to this day. "My face I do not mind it, for I am behind it."

At the age of about 7 years, while in the milk house watch Mom separating and bottling the milk into glass bottles. I became fascinated with the very first stage of this process, that cooled the milk before separating. The cooler looked like a larger version of a washboard which had cold water running through the core. Milk was poured into the top tray which was shaped like a rain gutter. This tray had tiny holes in it which allowed the milk to run down over the cold washboard-like thing-a-ma-gig into another tank below. I needed to look closer at this thing and examine how it worked. I knew shortly that that was where the cold water came from that was going through the top and out the bottom into the drain. When I went closer and put my right hand on the cold water pipe to have a closer look behind the thing-a-ma-gig. This brought on a body full of pins and needles running all over me but I could not let go of the pipe. I put my left hand on to help pull the first hand free and now both hands were stuck with more pins and needles. My father came in at just the right moment to grab my clothes and yank me from the pipe. Upon closer examination of the system (by my father) found that an electric wire was touching the water pipe elsewhere on the property and the electricity was running on the pipe. This was fixed right away. But, needless to say I no longer cared how that thing worked.

At about the age of about 8 years, I tried sliding down a wooden ski slide in the summer. The slide was a jumpers' chute and it has a very special memory for me. Read more about this in my piece called "PLACE IN MY HEART"

My Drag Ride -- At about 10 or 11 years old, on a very cool, spring day with a cold wind, and I was wearing what I have always called a teddy bear coat. This coat was warm against the wind. I decided to ride on the drag behind my father as he smoothed the land. After Dad plowed and harrowed the 4 acre garden, we needed to smooth the ground for planting rows of corn. For smoothing we used a Drag which was a flat piece of wood made of several planks, about 6ft long by 8ft wide. My Dad and I stood on this flat piece of wood which was horse- drawn. I was standing on the back holding onto my Dad's frock. Dad was driving a horse names Jim. Dad had not had this horse long. I think Dad purchased this horse because it was identical to the horse that he had raised, named Dan. This pair was beautiful when seen together but were nothing alike. Dan listen to my Dad when he spoke to him. He would do whatever my Dad said: getup, whoa, back-back, easy, get over, watch the water, etc. Dan never liked the water or getting his feet wet. Dan would literally lean against the team mate to walk around a mud puddle. But he would let Dad wash him off with a water hose after a hot day's work. How funny! We were never sure why he felt that way. Dan, didn't like kids (girls) much either! He would let my Brother put his whole fist in his mouth when Dan was in his stall. Go figure! Dan would lay his ears back and snap his teeth together, and flap his lower lip, as a warning that we all took seriously. Dad would say "Dan, No". The ears would come up into a happy posture. Dad used to let me ride on him when he was driving him but I can only remember one or two times that that happened because you had to keep your eyes on him as he would try to reach around and get my toes.

When anyone was in need of getting down off a load of hay, we were instructed to do that by climbing down the wagon (lattice like) front until we could take hold of Dan's or Bobs tail and down on the trace chain, and then down to the floor.

We had another horse named Bob. Bob, was a big black work horse, who was so slow and moderate, that kids could climb on, ride without a bridle, using just the halter. Dad knew that like Dan, that Bob would never kick. Then Dad bought another horse and Bob was used as a single, by us kids, on the hay rake. A little girl that came to Maine and stayed with our neighbor. The little girl would sit and ride on the footboard of the single horse rake near my foot pedals, with me and BOB.

BACK TO MY DRAG RIDE! I was having a great time riding on the drag when Jim, the horse decided to take a look at what he was hauling, and that started a series of events that was so bizarre. The horse saw me, raised into the air, wrapping the reins around his neck. Dad could no longer control Jim. I started to run and could hear my dad "run Myra, run". I ran about 50 yards or so to a stone wall, jumped the wall and laid down on the other side, just in time to see the horse, reins, traces and parts of the drag going over my head. You see- I was in the direct line to the barn. Jim proceeded to the barn. Both of the very large doors of each end of the barn were open with only the center poles still in place. My brother was in the middle of the barn floor when Jim crashed through the center pole of the back barn door. My brother jumped into the silo as Jim proceeded through the barn breaking the center pole on the front doors of the barn, and into the front yard. A cattle dealer was just driving his large cattle truck into the front yard and headed right at the horse.

BOTH PUT THEIR BREAKS ON!. Jim whirled around, back into the barn and into his stall which he had passed by on his first trip through the barn, or he was going to fast. Needless to say I was told about the horse going through the front because I am not sure how long before I got up of the ground. Needless to say I never wore the teddy-bear coat out on the farm again

About a year later Jim got sick, he seemed just like the other horses. The vet came and tried to (kid speak) fix him. I stayed with him and cried until Dad made me come to dinner. When I went back to the barn Jim was gone.

However, about 20 years later, while looking at a pony for my kids. I was in the horse dealer's pasture, with a black and white, hooded fake fur jacket on. I was bitten, from the back, on the back of my upper arm, by a beautiful Palomino Stallion.

NO MORE FUR COATS, WHETHER FAKE OR REAL!

Now at age 84, after several saddle horses and ponies, I have not lost my love and fascination with horses of all sizes, colors, etc. They are all beautiful, and very strong. Very willing to love you. Just think of the Federal Gov't taking wild horses, from their native habitat, the plains of the Western USA and selling them for meat to places like Mexico. !!!!!!

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THINGS AND SAYINGS I LEARNED GROWING UP.


Dad said:


  1. My Dad: "If a horse bites stay away from that end",


  2. My Dad: "If a horse kicks stay away from that end",


  3. My Dad: "If a horse kicks and bites, don't buy him. If you own him, sell him".


  4. My Dad: "Don't walk across people's lawn when you go to someones door, as it does not belong to you. Use the driveway or walkway."


  5. My Dad: "If you do not own it, then it automatically belong to someone else, so keep your hands off it."


  6. My Teacher: "Be careful when you reach down to pick someone up that they don't pull you down."


  7. My Teacher: "My youngest daughter used to plead with me to bring a little friend to lunch, day after day. Finally, I agreed and Freddie came to dinner. When Freddie left I asked my daughter "why didn't you tell me he was black?" My daughter replied "Oh, is he? I will look next time I see him."


  8. My Dad always read the Portland Press Herald every evening after the 14 to 16 hour day. I wasn't very old, maybe ten or twelve, when he showed me a picture of a black woman sitting, broom in hand, beside a cot of a sleeping young boy with a bandaged foot. Dad said to me "when you think your house isn't as nice as someone else's remember this picture." The caption read "Guarding son against rats in housing development, as he had already been bitten badly on his foot once."

  9. I HAVE NEVER, NEVER FORGOTTEN.


One day, through the sliding glass door to my deck, I saw a hot air balloon taking off on ridge, on the other side of the Mousam River. You can see the bird feeder hanger on my deck in the foreground. Having been up myself in a tethered hot air balloon I got the same rush looking on.

What a beautiful sight! I have never seen this before, in the approximate 80 years, that I have lived on this farm. The balloon took off from the West Kennebunk side of the Mousam River.

This was so fascinating! This beautiful purple thing was stunning! I became consumed with excitement.

WOW! This is so fascinating! I could see some people in the basket. WOW! They are coming closer. I suddenly became frightened by the fact they might hit the house or the barn which was taller than the house.

I suddenly found my sight glued to the plate glass window, and all the while watching the balloon go up, up, up and no sound and I breathed. They made it up and over our house and barn, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

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I loved this town as I can still remember how it was when I was a child, a teenager, and as a young person. This town was so wonderful.

We had three Drug Stores on Main Street: Bowdoins', Fiskes', Murdocks', with Soda Fountains, where we could get everything from Asprin, Prescriptions, Greeting Cards, Cokes, Milkshakes, Frappes (called "cabinet" by Canadians), Floats (Coke in a glass with a scoop of ice cream), and sundaes with any of several toppings (hot fudge, marshmellow, strawberries, wet nuts (chopped walnuts in maple syrup), raspberry, pineapple.

We had four or five grocery stores on main street: A & P, IGA, Red and White, and Macalister's, plus several convenience stores, such as Tomlinson's, Benards, Guthier's. We had several clothing stores, Nichols', a two story System Store with children and ladies' on second floor with mens' on the street level, Mariers Mens'. We had a Nichols' ladies dress shop. Now we have to go to the one large grocery on the outskirts of town. It's different now, so full of cars, especially from June to late August, which makes it difficult to get through town. Now, I don't go thru town in the summer. I go around West Kennebunk to the ME. Turnpike, to go North or Route 99 to Sanford to go to Walmart.

When I was in High School, my Dad used to take our class on horse drawn hay rides. Now that would not be possible because of the cars and their speed.

When I was eighteen I went into the US Air Force and went to San Antonio, Texas for basic training. Was glad too leave. Too hot.

Went to Francis E Warren Air Base in Cheyenne, Wyoming for supply schooling, that was better. It was March, lots of snow. Although, it was the first time I ever saw it snowing horizontal because of the wind. We had ropes between barracks that ended at the dining hall. The ropes were so we could find our way to the dining hall during a snow storm without getting lost. The spring was great, cool with wide open spaces and many, many horses. I was in Cheyenne, WY. during "Frontier Days", when it was "ride a horse or walk". I love horses so I was in heaven.

Then, I was sent to Norton Air Base in San Bernadino, CA., and I did not like it. Much to hot, hot, hot, to many people, and no horses.

Now, I am back in my home town of Kennebunk. It is different now (almost monthly changes). I used to know everyone name, almost. Now they are mostly strangers. The strangers say Oh we have this or that were we come from, or we do this, this way. The sidewalks are wider, the drive lanes are narrower, and a stone pedestal or (Christmas tree stand) is in the middle of town that took out seven parking spaces on Main Street and partially blocked the entrance to a one way street. I avoid the main street of town, by going West to Walmart in another town to avoid the traffic. I don't believe you can buy a needle and thread in my home town. I don't like all these changes. I think that is why I love genealogy which takes my brain and sense of being back to a better time!!

The pictures above are of the annual Kimball Picnics at Rogers Pond in Kennebunk, ME. This is the extended family of Ernest L. and Jessie M. Kimball. Many are Children, Grandchildren, and Great Grand children. In addition to the Kennebunk Kimballs, many are from Rochester, NY., Webster, NY., Southington, CT., Wells, ME., Manchester, NH. We have a Picnic or get-together every Summer.

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This is a great lesson on knowing the facts before repeating.

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Many thanks to Copy_It Owner and all of the Copy-it Staff . They can and have done many wonderful thing for me and for the Kimball Family Asso. They do more things: sizing, enlargement, very small size or very large(blueprints) copies, lamination and more. See the phone number and tell them I sent you. 482 Elm St. Biddeford.

I worked in the above drug store in 1954. This picture was way before the time I worked there.

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