1975 was an eventful year....

Not only moving into our first house, but followed almost immediately by our first dog. Taffy Bach y Ty Mawr (which translates from the Welsh as Little Taffy from the big house) joined our family and it wasn't long before she and I were roaming the woods behind us. Taffy was about ten weeks old when we got her and lived to 17. She was a delight, thoroughly spoiled and extremely snooty. I had another change of pace in my life too, in that I joined the local chapter of BPW (Business & Professional Women). I actually had joined in 1774 but got very active and involved from 1975 on. I loved the meetings and especiall enjoyed the conventions:

Dick has always teased me that Gerald Ford and I tore up the ladder at the same time. For you young folks out there, Gerald Ford was speaker of the house, when the vice president was forced to resign (Spiro Agnew) and followed quickly to become President with the resignation of Richard Nixon. I joined BPW late 1974, was asked to be program chairman very quickly with the sickness of the one that held the title. Fall 1975 was made Vice President and became president the following year. The above photo was taken at the Las Vegas Convention.

The third major event of that year was bringing my mother out to spend three months with us - she came in October and stayed through into the New Year.

We also added another dog to our family. I wanted a companion for Taffy, so followed up on ad for another papered cocker spaniel. What I found was a poor dog that had never been off the leash tied in the yard and with heat sores all over his back. Even though he was not exactly what I wanted, there was no way that I could leave him there, so Andy Capp joined us and even though we only had him a short time (he was killed by a motocycle), he did father Taffy's only litter of puppies.

I took time off in November and she and I set out on a 5,000 mile trip across the northern route to California, where Dick flew out and met us while we visited family. Then she and I came back the southern route, with stops at Las Vegas and the Grand Canyon. It was a major trip and one that my mother never forgot. She was in awe of everything - especially the vastness of our country.

My sister, who has visited many times, in Florida, California, Missouri, Oklahoma and Arizona, always comments on the size of the country. Her favorite phrase is to say that no matter where you here, even if you are on a street in a town, you are somehow aware of the vastness and size. This may sound odd, but I know I have the exact same feeling in reverse every time I go back to Britain. Even when I am in the country I have a 'claustrophobic' feeling of the smallness. Strange what the mind can do isn't it?