Number 7

 When I was in college, my pickup was broken into. Must have been one of Eugene's finest crackheads because they took all my homemade CDs from high school, but left the designer jeans sitting on the backseat. When I was talking with my dad about how freaked out I was about the whole situation, his first question was - did they take your number 7?

My number 7 has been hanging from my rear view mirror since I got my pickup in 2002. Before that, it was hanging on a lamp shade in my bedroom. And before that, it was in a box of neck tags for dairy cattle in the milk barn at the farm. On my seventh birthday, I was in the milk barn with Papa Pete and he handed me a yellow neck tag with the number 7 on it. He told me to keep it and Happy Birthday.

A short time later, I was at the Studio (Grandma Barbara & Aunt Bev's quilting space) and they gave me some orange yarn so I could hang the yellow number 7 around my neck.

Would you believe my mother actually let me go to school in a Holstein black and white spotted shirt over leggings with that orange yarn/yellow 7 homemade tag necklace? I am kind of mortified looking back, but the only reason I remember it is because I was so proud of it and on the bus I can remember telling all my friends about how Papa Pete gave it to me for my birthday.

February 11 was the anniversary of his death and as I was driving to my mom's house for a meeting, I caught myself fingering the number 7 and thinking back to crazy and fun times spent with Papa Pete on the farm. I want to share a few memories I was thinking about Monday...

• Picking cherry tomatoes at Aunt Mary's house in Homedale - and how she would always send us home with a little baggie of salt to dip our fresh tomatoes in;
• Sitting on "the blanket" at various sporting events - none of that running around nonsense;
• Watching him bite Trixie (my first horse) on the ear after she bit me; and
•  The Grandparents & Grandkids Grand Trip to the Grand Canyon - how Papa Pete & Mama Pete handed all us kids on that trip still amazes me! 

There are plenty more in the memory bank, but those are for another day. Even though our time with him was cut short, there is something to be said for quality over quantity. The quality of the time spent with him was tremendous and I think it says a lot that to this day, people always have such wonderful things to say about him. It's also nice to think that he's riding along keeping an eye on me through the years.