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most of the produce while it was fresh, but my mother also bottled some
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            – along the fence constituting our joint property line. When I was nine,
            Laurine returned home from Philadelphia on a summer visit (1930).
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            me. This is area was on the south side of the house and was about 8 by
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            PH  , SODQWHG P\ ¿UVW QDVWXUWLXPV  Dad was interested in what I did. The
            next spring he said, “Vegetables are cheap. Why don’t we put in a big
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            other side of the driveway where, for many years, he planted tomatoes.
            Uncle Frank Ostler was a rose fancier. When he moved from our neigh-
            borhood he left a number of rose plants. Dad obtained these for us and
            we planted them beside the back lawn. Sam was raising rabbits at this
            time. The rabbits got out of their pens a few times and decimated the
            roses, so they were dug out, to our regret.

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            others at local nurseries. My Dad would have me decide what was to be
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            would be planted in individual beds. I liked marigolds and it was easy to
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            my youthful favorites. Later I was very attracted by gladioli. I studied
            sources carefully and purchased corms from a specialist grower up in
            Oregon. They grew superbly in our garden, which was fertilized with
            the chicken manure/straw that we dug in each spring. Having admired
            regal lilies in a garden in Berkeley, I persuaded Dad to buy a group of
            lily bulbs. These were rare in Salt Lake. I imported them from Oregon.
            Within a couple of years the lilies were three feet high with stems loaded
            with blooms. Their fragrance at night was entrancing.

                   I could hardly wait for the long winters to end in Salt Lake. The
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            or), which I planted in a triple row next to our wire fence at the street. In


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