I dreamed I was telling someone that my in-laws' family farm in Wexford, Ireland, supplied milk to Yoplait, who only accepted the highest-grade milk. (This part is true, not a figment of my dream world.) It got me to thinking that so much hard work and pride in one's work would produce the best. And so, I made this collage, as a tribute to the gentle, quiet man I called Da, who, when times were very tough in the 1950s and people emigrated, stuck to the family farm and persevered.
I "inherited" the family photos and ephemera. This piece will end up back at the family farm. I may have lost my husband, but I never lost his family, my family. There are families who drift apart after deaths have occurred, but not this family. They have held me to them all these years.