(With apologies to those of you lacking ties to the great state of Indiana--)
I think I've told Alicia (and everyone else I know) about this gift at least three times this week. My brother and his family gave me this for Christmas. It's a 1935 program from the bucket game, beautifully mounted and framed. So here it is, Alicia and anyone else who's interested, in all its deco splendor.
This is totally going on the wall next to my desk. (Even though Purdue lost that year. S'ok, we still lead the series.)
To keep this vaguely tied to writing, I present to you the very minor poem which donated the name of the trophy.
- How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood,
- When fond recollection presents them to view!
- The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wild-wood,
- And every loved spot which my infancy knew!
- ...And e'en the rude bucket that hung in the well—
- The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,
- The moss-covered bucket which hung in the well.