I have a photo to upload as I don't see it in the photos here. The picture really does tell all but is currently packed away while we remodel which may take several months. Here's a synopsis: one Christmas at the Muckes', Uncle George, who always teased, saw my mini skirt and went in for a closer look. I'm sure his comment was something like, "What skirt?? I don't see any skirt!" Cathy was standing near me & we both laughed our heads off.

I was always trying to teach him how to take a selfie. We never really mastered it.

My condolences to the Roper clan.  I think all of us who did some growing up on the Roper Ranch think of it with fond memories.  It wasn't just the open space, smell of mint and eucalyptus leaves, or that great big root ball from the fallen giant down the hill that I used to climb on.  It was all the things learned there.  Like, if I picked blackberries, Aunt Tootie would turn them into spectacular jam.  Or the big bins that Uncle George built to "grew worms" (who knew??).  What about the sweet taste of fresh pea pods picked right off the vine, or finding my pick of cool carrots in the garden?  No one ever compared to Uncle George's tales told after dinner - sound effects and all!  He was probably a huge reason I studied to be a Sound Engineer.  I learned so many things during my time with The Ropers, and I'm sure he helped to pass all that knowledge down to me.  I was grateful for the chance to have a few conversations, as an adult, with him, about economics, investing, and World affairs.  I thoroughly enjoyed those moments, and I treasure them to this day.  He was, in many respects, a father figure for me, just as my cousins were like siblings.  I spent many weekends and holidays with The Ropers, even before they moved to Watsonville.  I loved to watch him weld miniature oak trees to polished pieces of wood - I wish I had one of those now.  Uncle George is the reason I have chess sets in my home.  I'm also going to get one of those cool clocks he had on the mantle, with the little ball that swung from pole to pole.  He had a huge laugh, and was bigger than life.  He seemed to understand that I was a small kid, but a human being just the same.  I felt lucky to be invited on a few camping trips (except for that damn, red canoe which my cousins loved to tip over), and especially being invited to sleep in the camper at the Voigt's home in Sacramento during hot summers.  Thank you soooo much for including me into your family, your dinner table, and for sharing your life.  You will truly be missed.

We lost my sweet grandfather at 88 years old. He taught me to be curious. He showed me how to care for farm animals. I fell in love with the ranch they had in Northern California when I was growing up and it inspired me to have my little farm today. He loved good martinis, documentaries, cards games and being with his beautiful bride (as he called grandma). He loved long talks at the dinner table after a good meal. He was so smart and loved to tell stories. My grandparents were married for 68 years. Thank you Grandpa George for creating our family and for being such a good man.