PURELY PERSONAL... 
1 
Many of our old-time cus- 
tomers will remember how 
my father used to report 
pictorially the progress of 
the “younger generation” as 
my sister, Elizabeth; brother 
Carleton and I gazed at the 
‘glads, dug dahlias or sam- 
pled strawberries. 
Seems as if time goes gal- 
loping by so fast these days 
I never accomplish more 
than a fraction of the things 
1 intend to do. Have wished 
to introduce the third gen- 
eration in this Long story 
for several years. 
Last Summer, just about 
the time she was turning 
her fifth birthday, I per- 
suaded daughter Margaret 
Anne to pose with her poor 
old pappy in a planting of 
pretty Pandora glads. (Pan- 
dora is a deliciously delight- 
ful shade of pink which we 
are listing this year for the 
first time.) The iris is Sun- 
set Serenade. It Sometimes 
forgets the calendar and 
blooms at glad time. 
Wanted to get Margie’s 
mother in the picture, too, 
but she was a bit bashful 
and insisted she should work 
the camera. Did a good job, 
too, for you will notice in 
background she got in some 
of the Continental Divide 
peaks, whitened with the 
first fall snows. 
It is from these high 
mountains that we get the 
irrigation water that en- 
ables this otherwise dry 
country to bloom so beauti-. 
fully. Takes trouble to irri- 
gate, but we can do a fine 
job on our plants and bulbs 
by having the water avail- 
able when needed. 
Leaving the mountains 
and getting back to Margie. 
I’m happy to report that she 
has enjoyed her first taste 
of school this year in the 
kindergarten class. Started 
out in the Same school I 
used to go to Some years 
back. Then after Christmas 
she and the other young 
children in this part of 
Boulder had the pleasure of 
going to a brand new ele- 
mentary school just com- 
pleted. 
Makes it mighty handy 
for Margie. The new school 
adjoins our gardens on the 
west, so it is only a block 
and a half from our house 
to school. In another few 
months when things start 
to bloom, she can'kKeep an 
eye out for rogues in the 
plantings as she skips back 
and forth from home to 
school. She got a big kick 
out of helping us check the 
glads last summer. 
And so did her father, 
Everett C. “Ev” Long. 

