polkadotzi

The school bus driver I fell in love with. Just one of his many talents as he put himself through college.

I have always loved this photo. Look at all the hats. How stylish! Most likely the men had them too, just in their hands!

These cute little twins are sitting here for a professional photographer who came to their house for a "photo shoot."  The story goes that little one on the left would not  stop swinging her feet. So photographer finally gave up and took the photo anyway. See the blur? This past weekend was their 80th birthday, and their kids gave them a big, double celebration up north. Wish we could have been there. Happy Birthday "Aunt Twinnies!"  

My mother is standing in the foreground with her two little twin sisters, in their driveway (not sure where the next younger sister was). I remember so well this intriguing house across the street with the turret. Some old lady sisters lived there as I remember.  The ______  Sisters. I don't remember ever meeting them, but there is a dim recollection of entering their darkened parlor. This photo brings my grandparents' house to mind, and all the fun we had as children when we'd spend a week there very summer.  This photo sure makes it look like my mom is the leader, and in fact she was, being the oldest of four girls.  It makes me think of myself, as I tend to be an "in charge" kind of person, though I don't really like that about myself. I'm glad I have the ability to organize things, but there's great relief when someone else takes over.

It doesn't seem that long ago that our family plus two men climbed into this laden-down VW bug for a trip from the high hills of La Paz, Bolivia, over the Altiplano down into the Yungus Jungle. From snow to sweat, all in a day, over what is known as the world's most dangerous road . Mind you, Spouse is 6'6" tall. Not sure how he made it into the back seat, but I know he did. He loves to tell how his leg was well bruised from my clenching it as we passed over hairpin turns from heights that I could not believe. At one point we were so high in altitude, the little bug, with all its weight of barb wire fencing being carried on the top, simply quit. We got out to look under the hood and eventually to push for awhile, and that is what this photo is about.

I remember my grandfather playing the harmonica. Very dimly, as all my memories are of my grandfather. He died when I was seven. This photo of him playing with his brothers was taken long before I was born. I've seen a movie clip of this exact scene so I can see how they fooled around before they actually played, with people passing by in the background. There was no sound to this old home movie of my grandfather's but I can imagine the sound just fine.

Another mystery I have about my father is his love for horses. I've always heard about it but never actually saw him with a horse. Not sure where this photo came from, but he seems happy to be with a horse. I have seen a photo of him on a horse on a hunting expedition in Colorado when he was young, but that's the extent of it. I know my mother has told of her love of horseback riding when she was young. Just one of those things I kinda wish I had asked about when I had the chance. I'm sure there would have been stories to hear. 

The story goes that my great grandmother climbed up into the cupola of her house to ring the bell on the day World War I ended. She was more than thrilled that the war was over, at least over for the western world. She was totally thrilled that her son, my grandfather (who had boarded a ship to be deployed that very day into certain danger) was coming home. My great grandmother was a quiet, unassuming person. Not the type to draw any attention to herself. But apparently she lost a bit of her inhibitions in her excitement. What better thing to do than to let the neighborhood know her joy. According to my mother, who told the story, she rang and rang and rang it for quite some time before climbing down. My mother loved to climb up there as a child, but never knew her grandma to ever climb there. Of course my mom wasn't yet alive when this story took place, as her father, the soldier coming home, was only engaged to her mother.  It apparently was one of those stories passed down thr

I can picture exactly what was happening in this photo. My grandmother was standing serenely somewhere, minding her own business, when her grandson, John the artist, came up and startled her with a hug and a kiss on her cheek. It might have be a chilly, rainy day. Why else would she have been wearing a "babushka," as we used to call them. I'm sure she laughed and was pleased with the kiss. My grandma was a good sport, always. Photo sent by a cousin who is finding and scanning in old photos, to the delight of us all.