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Well, I am not really planning to take any pictures today, so that would be an easy topic. However, I'll put up some old family photos that I scanned yesterday instead, some from the Olden Days, some from my babyhood.
First, from my father's family tree -- his father was a postman, and I put up a photo of him a while ago. This is his uncle, also a postman, though he started a few years earlier in an older iteration of the US Postal Uniform.
This is my mother's maternal grandmother, who apparently liked babies very well, but really could not bear kids once they could talk back, and who was not very nice to them.
This is my mother's paternal grandfather, grandmother, teenaged father, and his two sisters, in the late 1920s at some train station. I love pictures of women in cloche hats. The woman in the cloche hat, by the way, was a lesbian and spent a lot of her life with an Venezuelan woman, Tika (Margarita Madrigal, who authored some well-known "Learn Spanish the Easy Way" type textbooks), the daughter of a Kansas City consular official.
And this is World War II, my mother and her father, in New York City. My grandmother and her two sisters all spent WWII in Greenwich Village in New York, which I think cultivated some amount of bohemianism in them all.
This photo explains me a bit, I think.
Me at happy, happy age two or so.
Me at three, next to my grandmother's Volkswagon Beetle
Me, almost four years old, deer in the headlights look because, baby sister.
I kept telling my niece that we all used to wear hippie dresses, but she didn't believe me until I unearthed this photo. There's another one a couple years later when my sister is older when all THREE of us were wearing hippie dresses. But I haven't found it yet.
First, from my father's family tree -- his father was a postman, and I put up a photo of him a while ago. This is his uncle, also a postman, though he started a few years earlier in an older iteration of the US Postal Uniform.
This is my mother's maternal grandmother, who apparently liked babies very well, but really could not bear kids once they could talk back, and who was not very nice to them.
This is my mother's paternal grandfather, grandmother, teenaged father, and his two sisters, in the late 1920s at some train station. I love pictures of women in cloche hats. The woman in the cloche hat, by the way, was a lesbian and spent a lot of her life with an Venezuelan woman, Tika (Margarita Madrigal, who authored some well-known "Learn Spanish the Easy Way" type textbooks), the daughter of a Kansas City consular official.
And this is World War II, my mother and her father, in New York City. My grandmother and her two sisters all spent WWII in Greenwich Village in New York, which I think cultivated some amount of bohemianism in them all.
This photo explains me a bit, I think.
Me at happy, happy age two or so.
Me at three, next to my grandmother's Volkswagon Beetle
Me, almost four years old, deer in the headlights look because, baby sister.
I kept telling my niece that we all used to wear hippie dresses, but she didn't believe me until I unearthed this photo. There's another one a couple years later when my sister is older when all THREE of us were wearing hippie dresses. But I haven't found it yet.
