From a backwoods dairy farm to the wilds of Los Angeles, it was the beginning of how far you push the envelope. Dianah and Daniel traveled from coast to coast, every state continental USA. Real estate being the mainstay, no property was too large or too small. Research and thinking outside the box never ceased. The door was open to any variety of ventures. Dianah’s recreation embraced painting, reading, travel, time in the kitchen with Daniel, and being with the children. At the age of 79, the piano keyboard and reading music are being self-taught, plus writing the next book, keeping just enough energy for building and landscaping a forest home.
Each day always starts with a great cup of strong coffee.
Inquiries dianahdisandro@email.com
Me and Daniel
Memories, Volume II
by Dianah Disandro
Me and Daniel
Memories, Volume II
by Dianah Disandro
Published Apr 30, 2024
291 Pages
Genre: BIOGRAPHY & AUTOBIOGRAPHY / General
Book Details
A life worth living
From Richard, “An excellent read.”
Many readers asked, “When will the next volume be ready?”
Sandra said, “I read until late evening, couldn’t put it down. I’m ordering this book for friends.”
Book Excerpt
Volume II
Me and Daniel
1981
And now the rest of the story.
We have just left Central Wisconsin with a goodbye to Dianah's parents and siblings.
The mobile home park purchased for retirement is in the hands of management. It's winter, a cold November; the two are back on the icy road, over the mountain passes, caravan style headed west.
Daniel, in his blue and white Ford truck, was towing a 21 ft. boast loaded with household possessions, and I, in my gray Fird LTD, also packed to the roof, driving Highway Interstate 80, destination Seattle, just before Thanksgiving Day. The weather has blown in upon us.
We have trekked through the snow and ice and the closer we get to Seattle, the wetter it gets. It is so cold, and the rain has been continuous for miles.
The car heater works well but is not enough to get warm. And the water on the road, as the downpour hits the car, removes any stability to the highway. The long-haul trucks speed by, whipping the rain onto the windshield with enough force to obscure any vision. All I see in front of me is a river of water running down the window. It's like falling into the ocean with only the sound of the truck tires as high as the car roof and only inches away. I pray that no one decides to stop or turn; the big rigs know they rule the road.
Traffic is bumper to bumper at 70 miles per hour, and going through the city still takes much longer than my stamina was prepared for.
I'm alone in the car and say, "Dianah, this was your choice, so get yourself together; there is no one else blame."
When I told Daniel I couldn't live in Wisconsin any longer, he asked where I wanted to go, and this was my choice, so don't weaken now.