[photopress:MountRushmore_710.jpg,thumb,pp_style] By Nettie H. Francis
I served a full-time mission in Japan. The volcanic mountains, speckled with terraced rice paddies and sloping steeply down to the blue ocean, were a new sight to a girl from Utah. I quickly fell in love with the beauty of the islands and the many people there. In the less-populated areas, mountain trails—carefully marked and laid with cement pathways and wooden steps—insured that thousands of visitors could reach the peaks to enjoy precious bits of untouched nature. I soon became accustomed to crowded streets and cities, and tiny houses crammed into every feasible living space.

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[photopress:piano_610.jpg,thumb,pp_style] By Nettie H. Francis
I’ll never forget that family night. My Dad taught the lesson. He sat down at the piano, raised his hands in the air, and then brought them down hard on the keys, banging out an awful sound. We all covered our ears and frowned. The noise was terrible.

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[photopress:Taj_MaCoop_510.jpg,thumb,pp_style] By Nettie H. Francis
Yes, it’s true. I have chickens in my kitchen. I’ll admit
that our dining room is spacious, but when we have eight people at the table, two babies perched in their high chairs, and ten chickens pecking around in their little home, things get a bit crazy.

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[photopress:mom___son_410.jpg,thumb,pp_style] By Nettie H. Francis
There is no such thing as “my space” for mothers. I’m not referring to the virtual opportunity to share personal information with the cyber world. I’m talking about the physical reality that no one but women fully understand: Mothers have no personal space. They are NEVER ALONE.

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[photopress:gloves_310.jpg,thumb,pp_style] By Nettie H. Francis
When I was young, my family held a special “Garden Family Council” early each spring. Sitting around a big table and with Daddy acting as scribe, all thirteen of us would shout out everything we wanted to plant in our family garden that year. Tomatoes, beans, corn, carrots, lettuce and radishes were regulars. Some years we were more daring, adding cantaloupe, big blue morning glories, and Jack-Be-Little pumpkins to our garden wish list.

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