The last photo...

The last photo...  I'm still working my way through my mom's belongings.  This afternoon I came across the little point-and-shoot digital camera she had for the last couple of years she was alive.  I'll be giving that camera away, but inside it I found the memory card, with about 400 photos on it.  I'm pretty sure those are all the photos she took during those few years; I don't think she ever figured out how to copy them to her computer.  Every time I visited her, helping her send photos to her friends was high on her list of things for me to do.  :)

My mom was a remarkably bad photographer, which given her artistic sense was a bit of a surprise to me.  It's the mechanics of the camera she never seemed to understand, from the zoom lens to the focus.  I'd guess that of the 400 or so photos, less than a dozen of them are properly exposed and in focus.  Probably 90% of the photos are of flowers; the remainder are split between people, bugs, and dead bats.

There was a surprise for me near the end of the photos, though.  Unbeknownst to me, she had taken a dozen or so photos after she arrived here in Utah.  Most of these were of people: some friends of ours who visited her to welcome her to Utah, the staff at the assisted care facility (she loved those folks), and so on.  One, however, was the photo above.  From it's placement in the camera's sequence, I'm pretty sure one of our friends took that photo, almost certainly at mom's request.  What you see there is how she looked during her happiest time here, just after she arrived.  It gave me a real start to see that.  In a good way, though.

Miss you every day, mom...

Mom would have been 82 today, were she still alive...

Mom would have been 82 today, were she still alive...  I stopped outside my barn for a bit this morning, looking up at the U.S. flag she made from some old picket fencing – and at the sunflowers growing around my barn (at right), which she would have loved.  She would also have loved the goldfinches (both Lesser's and American) that swarm all over these as soon as I'm more than 10 feet away.

I miss you, mom...

Dictionary dad...

Dictionary dad...  My sister Holly emailed me this morning, and something she said triggered this memory.  My dad had a larger vocabulary than you'd expect from a farmer – much larger, actually.  His spelling was nearly perfect, too.  These served him well in our word games (Scrabble, Boggle, etc.), which our family played a lot of.

When I was learning to read, I often ran into words I didn't know.  If I asked my mom about those words, most of the time she would give me an explanation, and only occasionally would she send me to the dictionary.  My dad was just the opposite, often sending me to go look up the word and then come back and tell him what it meant as a way of testing my comprehension.

As I worked my way into more adult books, I'd start running into words that the dictionaries we owned at the time didn't list – or listed with definitions that didn't make any sense in the context I was reading them.  This was happening because I had started reading older books that we had on our shelves, and those books were written in an older style, sometimes using words that had fallen out of common use.  I remember particularly running into this with some of Mark Twain's books, and with translations of Jules Verne.  My dad explained that to me, but without any more complete dictionaries the only source of information was my dad's memory – and often these would be words that he didn't know, either.

Then one day dad came home with a new dictionary, a gift for me.  I call it “new” because it was new for our household, but it was actually a lovingly used volume.  Lots of pages were dog-eared, there was marginalia, and a little stick-figure drawing on the inside back cover.  Most likely my dad picked it up at a yard sale somewhere, or perhaps a used book store.  Unfortunately I don't remember who the publisher was, or which edition.  I do remember, though, what it looked like: it was a hardback, with a bright red cover and embossed gold letters on the cover.  And it was huge – so thick and so heavy that at my then-age I could scarcely lift the thing.  The best part, though, was that it was a descriptive dictionary, like the OED, showing how words were actually used rather than laying out a “correct” definition.  I can't recall ever stumping that dictionary.  It became my “word bible” as my reading took me into more and more challenging texts.  It was also the start of a life-long relationship with dictionaries for me!  :)

Mom would have loved our afternoon meal today...

Mom would have loved our afternoon meal today...  Yesterday when we went grocery shopping, we picked up two pounds of fresh mahi mahi – one big fillet and one medium-sized one.  We grilled mine with some dill and garlic, then I made two enormous sandwiches out of it.  Besides the (quite wonderful) cheese-and-onion bun that Macey's bakes in-store, the only other thing on the sandwich was a bit of homemade tartar sauce.  Those sandwiches darned near made my brains fall out!

Over 20 years ago, Debbie and I flew my mom and dad out to Hawai'i where we spent a really fun two weeks with them.  It was on that trip that we discovered Cafe 100 – the locally-owned fast food joint in Hilo.  They have many delicious items on their menu, but my mom and I instantly spotted the one for us: grilled mahi mahi sandwiches.  Those were made with perhaps 4 or 5 ounces of fish, on a slightly sweet bun that Cafe 100 has made just for their fish sandwiches.  There's a bit of tartar sauce and maybe (I've forgotten) a lettuce leaf or two.  But that's it; nothing to overpower the delicate flavor of that grilled mahi mahi.  We visited Cafe 100 multiple times, and once when I was very hungry after a big hike, I ate four of those sandwiches.  My mom never ate four of them at one sitting, but she did have two on several occasions.  She talked about those sandwiches for years afterwards.

Well, the mahi mahi sandwiches I had today were the first ones I ever had that beat the pants off the Cafe 100 sandwiches.  A new bar has been set!  Plus, these were monster sandwiches by comparison.  I can't believe I ate so much fish!  Sure was good, though...

Debbie fixed her mahi mahi as an add-on to a lovely salad: greens, cherry tomatoes, avocado, and that mahi mahi.  She looked quite happy as she ate it. :)

More memories...

More memories ... from my mom's photo collection...  Today's photos are all taken from a small photo album I discovered amongst her things.  None of these photos are dated.  They appear to be photos of her older sister (my aunt) Betty Over (nee MacLaughlin) and her family.  I don't know where they were taken, or when – or why my mom even had the album!  All of them are 2" x 2" snapshots, of the kind that the classic Brownie cameras made.  On each photo, left-to-right, top-to-bottom:

1. This photo was unlabeled.  The subject looks a lot like my youngest brother Mark, but I'm guessing it's actually one of Aunt Betty's (many) children.
2. My aunt Betty, my mom's older sister.  Her appearance here matches most of my memories of her, so I'll guess it was late '50s or early '60s.
3. Labeled “Mike”, so I'm guessing that this is Aunt Betty's son (my cousin) Michael Over.
4. Labeled “David and Gregory”, and I recognize the younger one as my cousin (Aunt Betty's son) Gregory.  I remember him as quite a bit younger than I was.  I don't remember David or his relative age.
5. This one is labeled “crashup” and it intrigues me because I don't actually recognize any of these kids!  The second one from the left looks like it might be my brother Scott.
6. Labeled “Gary” and I have no memories of him.

Conspicuously missing from these photos are Aunt Betty's daughters. 

More memories...

More memories ... from my mom's photo collection...

Here's my mom (in the center), with my nieces Tami (left, the daughter of my brother Mark and his first wife Rolana) and Amber (right, the daughter of my sister Holly and her husband Warren).  The photo is dated (by the lab) as February 1986.  I'm guessing that my mom made the matching outfits.  The photo was taken in the living room of the house I grew up in, looking east.  Mark and his family were living at that time in the field off to the east, in a house that formerly belonged to my uncle Donald – a house that I helped build when I was nine years old, in 1961.  The door behind  my mom was our rarely-used front door.  The holly table I've mentioned before is to the right of it; it's now in my sister's home.  The rocker visible mainly in silhouette in the windows to the left is now in my barn.  In my dad's printing on the back: “Marci, Elinor, Tami”; my sister Holly wrote to tell me that this was wrong and gave me the correct IDs.  Marci wasn't even born in 1986!  She also notes that so far as she knows, this is the only “matching girls” outfit mom made that included one for herself.

These two photos look older than they actually are – the lab dated them as November 1969, but they look more like the '50s to me. :)  Both of these were taken in the living room of the home I grew up in.  They're showing a group of women quilting.  I remember seeing this a couple of times, and this photo was taken while I was still living there.  The only woman I recognize is the second from the left in the second photo; that's my aunt Marian (my uncle Donald's wife).  The woman just to the right of her, in a blue blouse, might be Mrs. Evelyn Denholm (and that's confirmed by my sister Holly), a family friend.  None of the others ring any bells at all, and unfortunately the photos are not annotated.  Since my mom isn't in them, I'm assuming that she's the photographer.  Holly tells me a story about one of these get-togethers, in which everyone was invited to bring some baked goods.  Our dog, Boots, “taste tested” every one of them by nibbling off the edges of the treats.  That must have been funny!  Holly also tells me that one of the quilters was Mrs. Kiernan, the first grade teacher that she, Scott, and I all had.  I have no memory of her appearance, so I can't identify her (and neither could Holly).  In the first photo you can just make out a thermometer mounted outside the large picture window.  That was an alcohol thermometer that a landscaping customer (I've forgotten which one) gave my dad.  He asked me to mount it, which consisted of screwing two screws into the outside window frame.  Sounds easy, but it was actually quite difficult: that frame was made of oak!  I didn't know about pilot holes back then, so I screwed those two screws straight into that oak and got a couple of blisters on my hand for my thanks.

This photo is undated, and is marked on the back in unfamiliar printing (large and crude): “Town Road”.  I've no idea where it was taken, by whom, or why; I include it here mainly because my mom kept it in the same envelope as some of her favorite photos of her dad.  Perhaps one of my siblings can give me a clue?

What a smile!  My mom printed “Marci” on the back, then scratched it out and printed “Tami” above it.  It's dated (by the lab) January 1987.  I can't quite make out what her shirt says – maybe “I’m a little Chillie”?  My sister Holly thinks this might say “Phillie”, but I think that spelling is actually “Philly”, and there's no sign of an “s” for “Phillies”.

The lab dates this as December 1958, and that is our Christmas tree, in our living room with the big picture window in the background.  I remember my mom taping those cards to the window a couple of years; the alternative arrangements was to have strings of them high on the walls.  I remember that coffee table well; I had to repair the legs on it several times.  Those legs screwed into metal brackets that were in turn screwed into the bottom of the tabletop; those screws kept stripping out of the soft pine when too much weight was put on the table.  The photo was apparently taken at dawn or dusk; you can just make out some of the scenery outside through the window.  In the distance there's a white house.  That would have been to our west, and it must have been the Ball's house, though I don't remember it as being so close.  I remember that big pot.  It must have been a gift for her that year.  I don't remember it as a gift; I remember it as the source of some of my favorite dishes. :)

Finally, here's one that's a bit of a mystery to me.  The photo is undated.  On the back, in very neat but unfamiliar printing:  “Took this at Mt. Ranier (sic) two years ago I believe Fawn Lily.  Remember?”  Google shows many images of similar flowers called Fawn Lily, so I suspect that's correct.  My father knew any number of people who might have taken such a photo, and who might have visited Mt. Rainier.  I found the photo in a pile of photos of nursery stock (plants in pots), where it stuck out like a sore thumb...

More memories ...

More memories ... from my mom's photo collection...

First up, three studio portraits of guys in the U.S. Navy.  First up is my old friend Joe Trembula, then my brother Scott, and finally me.  I have no memory of that photo being taken, but it must have been in boot camp – at no other point in my Navy career would anyone have even proposed such a thing. :)  I'm actually rather impressed with the quality of these, except for the color fidelity on Scott's.  Mine and Joe's would have been taken in '71, Scott's likely a couple years later.  Joe's captures his intense visage very well; it's exactly as I remember him looking nearly all the time.  Scott, just as you'd expect, looks completely unreasonably happy given the circumstances. 

And here's another boot camp photo, this time Army, though.  On the back, in my mom's handwriting: “Bernice ‘90”.  I assume that means Bernice Dill, my brother Mark's good friend – who must have been in boot camp in 1990.  I'm struck by how much more serious and, well, threatening he looks than we three sailors.  If I was a bad guy, I'd be much more concerned about Bernice than those sailor clowns! :)

This photo brought back all sorts of pleasant memories for me!  On the back, in feminine printing that I don't recognize:

Sept. 2013
Joe   Rita  Clara  Jeremy  Amanda
Tina                                Paul (19 mo.)

Tina was my sister Holly's girlfriend the last few years I lived in my parents' home, late '60s and early '70s.  She was a very sweet young thing at that time, and the subject of, er, less than pure thoughts on my part. :)  I don't believe I've seen Tina since then, but I still recognize her in that photo.  I'm guessing that Joe is her husband, Rita, Clara, Jeremy, and Amanda her children, and Paul her grandchild.  My sister can verify that for me, I'm sure.

Then there's this portrait of me, another undated studio portrait that I don't remember.  This one is printed beautifully on quality photo paper.  From my apparent age, I'd guess this was taken in '57 or '58.

And finally, here's today's mystery photo.  The lab dates this as December 1959, earlier than most of my parent's color photos.  On the back, in my mom's handwriting (in fountain pen): “Bearberry”  This is the kind of photo my dad might take, though there's no indication that he did.  Generally his early color photos were all on Ektachrome slides; this is printed from a Kodacolor negative – so I'm not at all sure this was taken by my dad.  What makes this slightly odder than it otherwise might be is that this photo was in an envelope that otherwise contained only photos of me and my siblings.  It could simply be a mistake, but I'm wondering if this photo had some special meaning for my mom...

More memories...

More memories ... from my mom's photo collection...

I start with a bit of a mystery today.  I have no idea who either of the people in the photo at right are; it is undated and there are no notes on it.  It's obviously a studio portrait, presumably of a married couple.  The man is wearing a U.S. Army uniform; the insignia indicates he's a Master Sergeant – that's an E-8, the next-to-highest enlisted rank in the Army.  He has 7 “hash marks” (the stripes on his left sleeve), indicating that he has somewhere between 28 and 31 years in service.  Do any of my siblings have a clue who these people are?  Update: My brother Scott recognized the man as “Bernice” a friend of my brother Mark.  Mark then identified him as Bernice Dill, and his wife Sherry Dill. He's still in the Army, and the two of them still visit Mark and his wife Gina in Maine every year.

The woman at right is Rolana, my brother Mark's first wife.  The sweet young thing at left is one of her daughters, Tami.  The photo is undated, but must be from the early '90s.  I have no idea why it's black-and-white.

On the back, in handwriting I don't recognize: “1/10/98 I sunk 2’ (feet) (sleet) when I took this picture of a camp on Long Pond”; right below that, in my mom's printing: “Old Camp - tear time - many, many good times here”.  Truer words I cannot find.  That's the back (i.e., away from the pond) side of my family's old camp on Long Pond, now long gone.  What you're looking at was built in four stages: first the main cabin (the part with the tin stove pipe sticking out of it), then the front porch (not visible as it's on the opposite side), then the bedroom extension off to the left, and finally the bathroom and storage room closest to the camera.  There used to be an outhouse just to the right of where the photographer was standing, and there were more trees (I'm not sure what happened to all of them).  I've only seen the camp once in the winter, in '73 or '74, while on leave from the U.S. Navy.  When I saw it, there was much more snow! :)

For some reason my dad annotated this one: “Grandma + Marci”.  The photo is undated, but I'm guessing it's from the late '80s.  I have no clue where it was taken; I'm not familiar with that merry-go-round at all.

I know this place well – it's the front yard of my maternal grandparents' home in the '50s; the place I remember them the best.  On the back, in my mom's handwriting: “Dad & Sliver looking over the nursery”.  On the left is Sliver Sturgeon; on the right my mom's father (my grandfather) Donald MacLaughlin.  Behind the photographer was their home.  They often had parties on that front lawn, usually involving cards, beer, and highballs.  That hand-dug well with its massive bluestone cover was often my perch on our visits when I was quite small.  My grandmother once chalked some squares on that sidewalk for us to play games on, games that she taught us.  My memories of those visits are mainly all about the happy faces, laughter, and general high spirits of the people there – including, especially, my mom.  My grandfather's retail nursery included the stock field across the street that they're looking at, but most of the facility was left of the photo's field of view.  Down there was some parking, the greenhouse, the potting shed, and several display beds under some grand old shade trees.

On the back, in my mom's handwriting (in fountain pen): “Sliver Sturgeon Lincoln Maine”.  The photo is an original, but unfortunately undated by the lab.  It's on cheap off-brand photo paper, so I'm going to guess it was processed by someone in Maine.  From Sliver's appearance, I'll guess this was taken in the early '50s.  Note his cap and plaid shirt: he and my grandfather (my mom's father) dressed quite similarly.  He was a great friend of my grandfather, and to a slightly lesser extent, to our extended family; I have lots of memories of him laughing, joking, playing cards with my grandfather and the rest of us.

This is a duplicate on photo paper of a slide I posted before.  The color fidelity on this print is better than the slide, so I'm posting it again.  This is Doc Johnston; follow that link to read about him.

Finally, this is my brother Mark and his wife Gina, along with their two dogs, outside (I believe) the camp on Long Pond in Maine.  I say “I believe” because I don't recognize the stairs.  I suspect this photo was taken after Mark took possession of the camp (in the early '00s) and fixed it up; I've never seen it.  That certainly looks like Long Pond behind them, and the floating dock is right.  I certainly don't remember a lawn in the front, though!  The two of them look very happy in this photo, don't they?  Several things in this photo jump right out at me.  For one, the neatly edged gravel walkway – I can't even imagine such a thing when my grandfather owned it! :)  Then there's the lattice work hiding the crawlspace; again, that would never have happened (it was a total mess under there; we loved to explore it as kids).  But most of all, the propane tank and grill (presumably that's what's under the cover): we cooked meals inside the house on a wonderful wood-fired cook stove.  Grilling on a propane grill?  Get out of here!

More memories...

More memories ... from my mom's photo collection...

Here's a pair of undated and unannotated photos taken at the same time that must be (from appearances) from the late '80s or early '90s.  I have no memory of the get-together that allowed this to happen.  I think these must have been taken on my parents' farm in Robbinsville, from the yard where our clothesline used to be (I think!), looking toward the east-northeast.  The left photo has (starting at the lower left and working clockwise) my brother Mark, my sister Holly, my brother Scott, and me.  Scott looks like John Denver in this photo, doesn't he?  The second photo has a more extended clan: Mark, his then-wife Rolana, Scott, Holly, Debbie (my wife), me, Amber (Holly's daughter, with arm outstretched), Tami, and Marci (next to Mark).  The last two are daughters of Mark and Rolana.  In that second photo is the clue that let me know where this was taken: a car zooming by on US 130, and a utility pole and wires running alongside it.

I love this photo!  On the back, in my dad's printing: “Tami + Marci trip with granma and granpa to tip of Schoodic Peninsula in Maine”.  That would be Schoodic Point, a place I remember very well from visits as a kid.  The lab dated this photo as August 1995, and that fits the apparent ages.  I like the way the fog there makes the others in the photo fade out, and keeps the girls in the foreground – and being photo-bombed by a seagull is pretty cool!

Here's something that isn't a photo, but an actual artifact: the half of a railway ticket from Naples to Capri, presumably taken by my dad when he was stationed near Naples, Italy during WWII.  I searched for information about the organization mentioned or the Bagnoli Railhead.  Other than simple mentions of their existence, I found nothing.  The date is interesting – it's just three months before my dad demobilized at Fort Dix, in New Jersey, and a year after the German surrender.  I hadn't really realized that my dad had over a year in Italy after the war ended.  I knew, from conversations with him, that he had traveled extensively all over Italy, especially along its west coast and the northern mountains (including one brief trip into Switzerland).  It seems he had plenty of time to do that!

This is my brother Mark and his daughter Marci.  On the back, in my dad's printing: “Mark + Marci 1987”, and the lab dates it as November 1987.  Mark is wearing his “uniform” shirt from his days as an auto body repairman.  I believe he's in the house he lived in for a while, placed in our old field to the east of my parents' home on the farm in Robbinsville.  That house used to belong to my uncle Donald (my dad's brother).  Mark had it moved to a new location when my uncle sold his part of the farm.  I helped build that house the summers that I was 9 and 10 years old ('61 and '62), learning a lot about construction from my uncle.  His adopted son, my cousin Jonathan, wasn't interested in helping (which I was amazed at, because it was fun), and characteristically my uncle didn't force the issue.  Years later I found out (in conversations with my dad) that uncle Donald had an awful childhood – never measuring up, in his parents' eyes, to his older brother Earle.  He suffered through a lot of discipline and coercion, and vowed never to do the same with his own childhood.  The result was ... not good, but that's another story for another day...

I believe I've posted a lower-quality version of this photo previously, or one very similar to it.  I found a better copy, and here it is.  On the back, in my  mom's handwriting: “My wonderful Dad, at work in his nursery”.  This is a modern copy of an older original that I don't have (or at least, haven't found yet).  My grandfather looks a bit younger here than my memories of him, so I'm guessing this was taken circa '50.  The plaid shirt and cap are characteristic.  I don't recognize the field, but there aren't many visual cues here.

Here's another modern copy of an older original, and again I think I've posted something like this earlier, but not of this quality, so here it is again.  On the back, in my mom's handwriting: “Elinor & Bonnie Lee 1943”.  My mom would have been 10 or 11, and the war was raging in both Europe and the Pacific.  I don't recognize the house behind them, but I'm guessing it was the Highlands, New Jersey home that I believe her parents had at that time.  Bonnie Lee is my mom's younger sister, my aunt. 

More memories...

More memories ... from my mom's photo collection...

This morning I opened up a file folder I hadn't examined before, and found about 25 large-format original photos.  Some of these I've posted before, from copies (and usually much smaller) – and these usually had new annotations as well.

On the back my mom wrote: “Mom at camp 1952”.  That's her mom, my grandmother Mable MacLaughlin.  She's standing on the stair landing, just outside the screened porch of my family's “camp” on Long Pond, just north of Lincoln, Maine.  That camp is gone now, and my brother Mark is building a new one.   That porch stood on pilings that moved nearly every winter; the whole camp was perennially out of kilter.  We really didn't care, so long as it didn't slide into the lake (which it never did, though there were a couple of close calls).  My grandmother is facing Long Pond; there were wonderful views of it from that porch.  The photographer must have been standing on the plank walkway that led to a floating dock, just a few steps away.  So many wonderful memories of that place!

This is my mom's dad, my grandfather Donald MacLaughlin.  The back of the photo is stamped “ASBURY PARK PRESS PHOTO Asbury Park, N. J.”.  My grandfather was an active bonsai artist, so I'm guessing this was from press coverage of one of the contests or exhibitions he entered.  He's wearing the heavy plaid shirt and felt cap that I remember so well.  From his appearance, I'd guess this was taken in the mid-'50s.  I remember him looking exactly like this, when I was small.  Two of those bonsai are in the traditional Japanese low clay pots, something I saw bazillions of in Japanese arboreta.  I don't know what the venue was here.

I've posted a smaller version of this one before (this original was 5x7).  On the back, in my mom's handwriting: “Me Age 18”.  This was taken in 1951, then, just before she and my dad were married (when she was 19).  She's on a swing I remember well, at my grandparent's house.

On the back my mom wrote: “Dad in his nursery”.  That's her dad, my grandfather, standing up holding a spade and a cigarette.  I don't know who the other two men are, but most likely they were hired hands.  I recognize the field and the building in the background; his greenhouse was to the left of that building.  He looks younger than my memories of him, and I see a car from the '40s in the background, so I'm guessing this was taken circa the late '40s, likely post-war.  The nursery business was practically dead during the war, as you might imagine.  The photographer has his or her finger on the lens – something my mom was particularly good at with the old Brownie-style box cameras.  Therefore I'll say there's a good chance that she took this photo. :)

Oh, I remember this photo so well!  It (or a copy of it) used to hang in the camp in Maine, and a framed version stood on my mom's dresser in our home in Robbinsville, New Jersey.  That's my mom's dad, my grandfather, Donald MacLaughlin.  I don't know when this was taken, but I'll guess the early '50s from his appearance.  That's Long Pond he's one, and the fish he's holding up is pretty big for there.  He's wearing his characteristic plaid shirt and his felt fishing cap.  Such a happy expression on that beautiful face, and that's exactly how I remember him – as a very happy man.

Finally, here's a photo I posted a small version of earlier.  This original is an 8x10 and in great shape.  On the back, in my mom's writing: “Dad in Masons - bottom row right end - He was 32 degree Mason - How handsome!”  I'd have guessed that was my uncle Donnie, but instead it's a younger version of his father, my grandfather, Donald MacLaughlin.  There's some information about 32nd degree Masons here (“Sublime Prince of the Royal Secret” – what the heck is that?), though it doesn't help me very much. :)  I'll guess this was taken circa '30.  I still have no idea what those scarves mean, or why they have different letters and numbers on them...

More memories ...

More memories ... from my mom's photo collection...

This is an undated modern copy of an older photo; I don't have the original.  In my mom's writing on the back: “Aunt Mattie”; someone my mom mentioned often, but whom I don't recall ever meeting.

This photo is also undated, but it's an original; looks like it was taken with an old Brownie or the equivalent (from the square aspect ratio).  My parents owned an actual Brownie when I was young, so I'm guessing that's what took this.  There's no note on the photo, but from the knotty pine paneling and the bed, this must be the bedroom that my brother Scott and I shared as kids – and that's Scott in the photo.  He looks to be about 3 or 4, so this must have been taken '56 or '57.  I don't remember the stuffed dog at all.

Now here's a real mystery.  I found this photo buried amongst a bunch of family photos.  There's no note on the back, and it's undated; it's an original printed on old-fashioned thin high-gloss photo paper.  I don't recognize the location at all.  Someone's shoulder is partly obscuring the peacock, but I've no idea who that might be.  I especially don't know why my mom decided to save this one!

This is another undated modern copy of an older photo that I don't have.  My mom wrote on the back:

Family Picnic
Ralph - Lillian - Pat Paterson - Marilyn - Ralph - Mom's cousin (don't remember her name) Buster + Mom

This annotation isn't as much help as it might have been, as her sequencing is a bit ambiguous! :)  I'm guessing that it's clockwise starting with the young man at the lower left.  That's certainly her mom (my grandmother) at the lower right.   I like the eclectic collection of chairs they assembled. :)  I can't tell where this is.  My grandmother's appearance is a bit hard to make out, as the photo is of pretty poor quality – but she looks roughly like my earliest memories of her, which would put this around the early '50s.

Like the preceding photo, this is an undated modern copy of an older photo that I don't have.  In my mom's handwriting on the back: “Mom + Paul Jay”.  I sure wish I knew who Paul Jay was!  That's my grandmother on the left, looking like she's about to whack Paul Jay over the head with a shovel or something.  He's doing something with bricks – perhaps he was a mason?  He must have thick calluses to be handling bricks like that, without gloves.  He's puffing on a big old stogie.  Nothing about the scene looks familiar.

Finally, here's one last undated modern copy of an old photo I don't have.  In my mom's handwriting on the back: “Bonnie”.  That would be her sister (my aunt) Bonnie, and at a very tender age.  Sure wish this was dated!  The other things in the photo sure look old-fashioned, don't they?

More memories...

More memories ... from my mom's photo collection...

I don't know the whole story behind this undated photo.  This is a Polaroid, of all things, and the chemical packet left enough room for my mom to annotate it on the front.  I don't think my mom ever owned a Polaroid camera, so someone else probably took this photo and gave it to her.  Also, I think this donation likely occurred sometime after her last visit to Maine.  I remember the bell at the camp; it was a Sears & Roebuck bell very similar to the one we used to have on the farm I grew up on, except the one on the farm didn't have the big ringer pulley (it had a clapper handle instead).  Also, the one at the camp was perhaps 50% larger than the one on our farm.  Maybe one of my siblings will know the whole story?

This undated photo has my mom's handwriting on the back: “Donald MacLaughlin, Elinor MacLaughlin Dilatush”.  In addition, scribbled out is “Joe Lounsberry”.  That Donald would be my mom's brother (my uncle) Donnie.  I don't recognize the venue and I have no idea what the occasion might have been (quite likely, simply a get-together).  From my mom's appearance, I'll guess this is circa mid-'90s.  I have no idea who Joe Lounsberry was, or why his name would have been written and then crossed out.

My sister Holly spent a year or two in South Korea teaching English to Korean students.  On the back, in my mom's handwriting it says “Holly & Students ‘04”.  The camera dated the photo as January 23, '94 – and I suspect that means that my sister didn't know how to set the date and time on her camera. :)  I'd not seen this photo before, and having traveled quite a bit in Korea myself (and having several Korean friends), I'm struck by the appearance of several of her students – they don't look like the Koreans I've known.  The boy with the blue shirt, and the girl on the far right do look like Koreans I know; the other three do not.  I'm not sure what part of Korea my sister was in, but it appears to be an area ethnically distinct from the areas I know.  But I've glossed over the really important question here: why is my sister wearing a lobster hat?  Also, why is a flat of bean sprouts being displayed in an English class?  There are mysteries here...
Update: my sister responds:

It was not 1994, but 2003 or 2004?... After I had attended a conference in Baltimore, MD, and purchased my crab hat!

Baltimore is quite proud of its crabs.

These were kids in Charlottesville, at a school where I taught ESL (few months, substitute position), a couple of years before my trip to Korea.

The students were learning science words related to how plants grow. Hands-on science projects were part of the methods used to help reinforce learning, make learning more fun, make assessment a bit more 'real'. [Interesting memories stirred up by that photo]

Here's a photo I remember – a larger version of this photo, framed, hung in our camp in Maine.  On the back, in my mom's all-caps printing: “SLIVER STURGEON, LINCOLN, MAINE”.  Sliver's holding up that tiny white perch and I remember that there's a funny story behind this ... but of course at this remove I've completely forgotten the story.  Maybe one of my siblings will recall it.  Sliver was a fanatical fisherman; the very idea of him catching and keeping such a tiny thing is faintly ludicrous.  Most likely he's on Long Pond (where our camp is), near Lincoln, Maine.  The photo is a modern copy of an older original; it's undated and I don't have the original.

This one is a real memory-jerker.  This is taken inside our camp in Maine.  On the back, in unfamiliar handwriting (with a felt-tip pen): “Scott Joyce Tim Donny Tom Elinor Dilatush after supper their camp 8-85”.  So that dates this to 1985, and my mom and dad's appearance is consistent with that.  They're both seated at bottom left.  Joyce is just behind my mom; my mom's portrait of Doc Johnston is hanging behind Joyce, and left of her is my brother Scott.  I don't remember Tim and Donny, but that must be them playing guitars.  The camp's inside is festooned with plaques and photos and paintings, as I remember it.  The manic expression on Joyce's face was one we often saw. :)  So many good memories from that camp.  Damn it, now I'm bawling...

Finally here's Loni Sturgeon (Sliver's wife) in an undated photo.  I'll guess this is circa mid-'90s.  On the back, in my mom's handwriting: “Loni Sturgeon & ?” The question mark is the lady holding up the blue napkin to hide herself; Loni is the lady smiling away.  I don't recognize the venue.  I know that Loni and my mom were good friends.  On a visit to Maine that Debbie and I made in the '80s, she was one of the people that my mom very much wanted me to meet.  We had lunch, my mom, Loni, and I, in a little cafe in Lincoln.  The entire idea of a cafe in Lincoln was rather startling. :)