Articles by Ray Adler

I can’t remember when Mom told me this story. She was small, blond, vivacious, full of questions. She followed my every step like a faithful dog. And I liked it…

Mother told this story of the day the aroma of freshly baked bread filled our kitchen. Its heady smell greets anyone who opens our door. Does anything smell better? Once…

Here’s more of my mother’s wit and wisdom. One of my friends never had a doll. Those who are too young to remember the depression cannot understand that. Children now…

If pictures don’t lie, my mother’s aunt was a very beautiful young woman. Also very neat. Very clean. Hard-working. She had one daughter. She had all of her mother’s good…

My mother had this story. Daughter is twisting my arm. “Write your memoirs,” she says. That sounds too final, too complete. Besides, what interesting memoirs do I have to write?…

My great-grandmother Howard passed down instructions on raising chickens. Here are her instructions: All livestock requires seven-day-per-week, 365- or 366-day-a-year care. Owner is tied to home base or has substitute…

Here’s Mom’s story about our dogs. Many years ago before there were any children to keep me company, Dad bought me a pup. I forgot where we went – seems…

My older sister had a playmate named Ponteen when she was very small. Ponteen lived in the corner of the kitchen along with a broom and mop. I always had…

We often say in the office you can’t make these stories up. One time a friend, who was to provide cooking services at the Strawtown Auction Mart, was unable to…