BABY TAKES WING...it's a category

I tell you, it's a category. Images of babies about to take flight. Rarely captured on film. So far I've only found them with their little engines revving. Tops on my bucket list: Baby in full flight. A simple dream I know, but let's see how many years it takes to find one.

I am a little concerned with the landing gear. The eventual landing might prove to be very bumpy since one gear seems to be facing the wrong direction during takeoff. Let's hope there was a good ground crew standing by.


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To see the first in the "series" click here.

The GHOSTS IN THE LITTLE FAMILY ALBUM: Gertrude with Mother

If you look at the very first post of this series you'll see an elderly woman seated in the foreground. I'm guessing that was mother Rich. I believe Gertrude stands behind the woman with the tie on. If this is indeed the case, we then have Gertrude with her mother in this photograph.


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DON'T SMILE for daddy

I generally avoid stand and pose shots unless there is something quirky or fun going on. It gets to the point when I'm sorting through a bin that I'm nearly throwing these "say cheese" shots as far away from me as possible. But then...something like this comes along.

Daughter and mother looking as bored as they possibly ever could. Was it a jolly home? Was this photo a fluke? Was there another one taken with both of them looking a little less wax figure-ish?


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The lady, the baby, and the WICKER CHAIR

I had a wicker chair very similar to this when I was a child. Mine had a tighter weave and was a rocking chair. This too may be a rocker.

The chair had been my dad's chair, then his brother's, then mine. Eventually it got passed along to my cousins who...let's just say the chair never looked as nice anymore and it no longer rocks.

I occasionally see similar chairs at antique stores and those old complex memories come back bathing me in a smile.

My mother always said that if she saw me sitting in the chair for too long it was time to get out the thermometer. I do remember sitting in my room rocking back and forth "reading" my books and listening to my Golden Records.

Speaking of Golden Records, there's a fun site worth visiting called Little Golden Records. This week Rockin' Jeff is featuring The Ballad of Davy Crockett. If you're of a certain age this will give you pause.

As to this real photo post card all I can say is I'm a bit confused.

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I can tell by the last name "Rich" that this woman and child were related to Gertrude Bowen since her maiden name was Rich. Other than that I'm simply confused.

"This is Frances Rich with Frances Rich."

Why do people do this? Why make life anymore confusing than it is?

This RPPC is from the Ten Buck Box.

When is MOTHER'S DAY?

It'll be 10 years this Christmas since my mother died. It was an ugly death from ovarian cancer and I'll never get over it. I hate that I can't hear her voice anymore or quickly see her face in my mind's eye. But I have photos to remind me, help to fill in the pieces, jog the memories.

We take photos of family members for granted. They get tossed around, stuck in odd places, forgotten. I try to imagine what it was like for people when photos for the common folk became affordable. When an image could be saved, maybe only one photo, that took them through their life. One photo, one scrap of paper, that was cherished because it reminded them of someone they loved who they would never see again.

We're so inundated with images today and people's egos have grown to where they expect to see themselves everywhere 24/7. It's almost too much. The quiet of a single image seems to be lost. There's always more to consume. Do people slow down enough to look at images of family and friends before quickly moving on to the next digital image? The same amount of care doesn't need to be taken because the images cost nothing. They're bits and bites and can be easily erased. 

I thought of this because I saw an ad in the newspaper for Mother's Day. I don't even know when it is. It's a manufactured "holiday" used to sell stuff. I remember as a child driving through Baltimore on Mother's Day and seeing young men standing on the stoops of their homes wearing carnations in their lapels and my mother told me that the white meant their mother had died, the pink or red that their mother was still alive. I never again thought of carnations the same way. I always remember those young men with their single white carnation. That has always been my image of Mother's Day.

I'm assuming this photo is of a mother and child, but I have no proof. It was purchased at an estate sale a few years ago along with some wedding photos. It's badly worn, but the image is still strong and meaningful. Someone kept it for years and then it was lost to a stranger, me. I posted another photo from this same estate sale in an earlier post of another little girl standing on a chair. It could be the same little girl, I just don't know. It's sad to think that this image became unwanted and just something to sell. At some point it was viewed by someone who loved and cherished these people. For now it's in my care. Their history reminding me of my history.

 

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