age and a righteous purpose we approach Armageddon. We hope and believe 
the Victory may not be long in coming. 
Our leaders ask us to realize that there may be casualties. But note several 
things. Have you not observed the extreme care given to protect the lives of 
our soldiers? To reduce casualties to a small fraction of our total forces? 
Sometimes I feel that the bomber pilot above Berlin is almost as safe as the 
automobile driver in the mad medley of a New Year’s celebration in Los Ange- 
les, Again, have you noted the frequency with which our leaders reverently 
mention the name of God? Because they do sincerely realize that we are in the 
hands of Him, agents to accomplish His purpose. 
Friends, before I write you again in our Fall Catalog, I believe that we will 
have crushed the evil power of Hitler. We will if we remain strong in every 
sinew. But if we do not, Victory will be delayed. 
Food Fights For Freedom 
In 1948, Americans have fully demonstrated their ability to cooperate in 
the production of food. It was necessary that we should grow more vegetables, 
and fruits, raise more chickens, rabbits and food producing animals in order that 
more food could be sent abroad to our fighting forces and to our allies who are 
unable to produce enough. We did it. I do not need to mention facts or figures. 
This has been done. But I can tell you what the Houdyshels are doing and in- 
tend to do because there is still more that we all can do. ae 
The Houdyshels raised more sweet corn, tomatoes, potatoes, beans, peas, 
squash, turnips and chickens than ever before on this Rancho de las Flores. A 
backward season in spring and lack of labor made us a little late in planting 
but we had sweet corn and green beans until Dec. We still have a few living to- 
mato vines with ripening tomatoes in Jan. We have green peas now as they 
are a winter crop here. The Avocado was almost a failure but we had enough 
and some to give away. We had plenty of oriental persimmons, enough peaches, 
berries, a few walnuts ete. 
- Our chickens have been coming along fairly well with a few set backs due 
to our inexperience. We have had our fried chickens and our eggs. We have 
even had eggs to share with our good neighbors at the wholesale ceiling price, 
as we feel that this is not time to take the advantages of a “seller’s market.” 
But we must admit that we did not have enough of those stamps which were 
first red but now brown. I can eat very little starchy food, not rationed, and must 
eat more butter and oils, all expensive in ration point values. 
Butter, peanut oil, (as good as butter almost) crisco, meat, etc., all require 
brown stamps and we often ran out too soon and did without some things. We 
were willing to do without if necessary but also intent on the discovery of ways 
and means to avoid it. We did. 
Before Pearl Harbor, I weighed 165, Last summer I got down to 142. I now 
weigh 152. I have never stopped working mentally and physically but there have 
been times when I reached my capacity for work too soon. 
I Got A Man’s Goat 
It may seem like a divergence, wholly out of place, to tell you a joke at 
this point of a serious discussion. But it may not be such a joke after all. I 
believe you will all admit, when you consider the circumstances that I was justi- 
fied in getting his goat and the fact has never given me one moment of regret. 
Nor do I have any sympathy for my victim because he still has another goat 
and a cow. 
So I got his goat by giving him a check. The goat’s name is Peggy. Altho 
not in the most productive part of her lactation period, and already bred she 
was giving over 2 quarts a day. We are now milking irregularly but she insists 
on giving about three pints a day. 
I have had goats before. Perhaps 18 years ago, I bought several goats, First 
a Toggenberg, then a high bred Saanen and later others. I whipped the ulcers 
and I weighed up to almost 190. But I have been on milk diets and more milk 
diets and seem to resent it, wholly psychological. So I began to fancy I could 
notice a goaty flavor and sold the goats. 
Last August at a family dinner party my brother, G. A. Houdyshel, Box 81, 
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