more old photos at last

Yes, finally. I’ve scanned bazillions, but keep not posting any. Just for the record, I’ve made a "vintage photos" chapter so they’ll be easier to find. Because I’m sure the whole world is breathlessly waiting to view my old family photos! It will make it easier on actual family members who might not want to wade through all the other random stuff, anyhow.

Speaking of random stuff, I keep having the weirdest dreams lately. My favorite so far was last night, when I dreamed that we were somewhere with a whole bunch of other people – it had something to do with the repair shop where my car is; we were all gathered at the shop like it was a restaurant – and I realized that Lou Reed was sitting at a nearby table. I was just thrilled, and wanted desperately to take a picture of him, but I didn’t want him to see me do it because he was obviously trying to relax and enjoy himself at this… auto repair restaurant. Or whatever it was. He had a bunch of doting followers at his table. I had the EOS with me and didn’t know how I could possibly take a photo without anyone noticing. I could have probably sneaked one with the Powershot, but the EOS is pretty obvious. I finally just went ahead and took one really fast, and although he totally ignored me, several people at the table glared at me in disgust.

I can’t imagine why I was dreaming about Lou Reed. Although he is going to be at the Orange Peel in Asheville next weekend, so perhaps it had something to do with that. I’m not even a huge Lou Reed fan, nor is Baker B, although he does like Metal Machine Music. Take a walk on the wild side, I suppose.

Okay, back to the point of my post.

My grandparents, looking quite young. I don’t know what they were sitting on – looks like a rockslide.

HL in World War II.

This is one of my favorites, and it’s yet another one I had mistaken assumptions about for years. I always thought it was my grandfather and my uncle  – HL – but not too long ago my father said no, it’s Mr. Pope and my grandfather. I’d never realized how much HL looked like my grandfather. Mr. Pope was a neighbor. His son Paul was Daddy’s best friend. Paul was a heavy drinker and died when he fell asleep smoking a cigarette and his trailer caught fire. I barely remember that happening.

Mabel, Merle and Jean. According to the back of the photo, they were 20, 24 and 18. I love how they’re all dressed up.

Merle and Mabel – taking care of a shoe crisis, apparently.

My grandmother’s mother. I started to say I don’t have many pictures of her, but my father has an old album that HLs wife gave him of photos from when they were very young kids, and maybe there are some of her there. I’ve got to sit down with him and get him to tell me who everyone is. The pictures are glued into the album, so if anything was written on the back it’s long gone.

Daddy, Merle, Mabel and Jean. I love this one because they all look like they REALLY don’t want their picture taken. And they’re way back there behind the flowers, which I’m sure were beautiful in reality but aren’t quite so impressive in black and white.

This is another one I thought was interesting, because it doesn’t seem like people took a lot of candid shots then. Probably because it was expensive. Merle in the background, Mabel in front clutching her skirt, and I don’t know who that is on the porch. I’d love to know who’s coming up the road – maybe Aunt Merle will remember.

And I’ll end with this one – Mable with her suitcase and car, looking ready to take off on a trip. I’d also love to know where she was going. It was 1958 – there’s a date on the bottom, like they started doing sometime in the 50s when they developed the photos. Very handy. Now a couple of houses have appeared – the one on the left is my parent’s house. And I do believe those two teeeeeny little bush-like things in front are the "dwarf" pines they planted, that turned out to be huge trees. They grew way taller than the house, and blocked the view out the front window. One is still there – they tried to transplant the other one and it died. It’s weird to see them as teeny little things.

OH, and for everyone who wondered how on earth an 18 or so month old child dies of hairballs? Well, apparently she doesn’t. I asked my father about that last time I was home, and he said she didn’t die of hairballs. He thought maybe it was pneumonia. Then he said he guessed anybody who would know for sure was dead by now themselves.

And I’ve come to the conclusion that my cousin Mike told me that. Mike was forever telling me things that weren’t true, and I always believed him. He told me there were ghosts in the linen closet at my grandparent’s house – it wasn’t really a closet, but a kind of recessed area with shelves and a curtain in front of it instead of a door. And ghosts. I realized when we were cleaning out the house after Mabel died that I STILL feel great apprehension around that part of the house. SO I’m sure that Mike told me Elizabeth died of hairballs because that’s exactly the kind of thing he’d tell me, and I’ve believed it for 40-some years.