Thursday, September 8, 2016

Paradise Ward 3 High Priest's picnic...

Paradise Ward 3 High Priest's picnic...  A “high priest” in the Mormon Church isn't what it sounds like to non-Mormon ears.  The locals tell me that it's basically the older men in the ward, and in practical terms that's true: most of the local men over about 55 years old are high priests.  But if you read the linked article above, you'll see that it's a bit more than that.

In our local wards (at least; it may well be a church-wide practice), the High Priests of each ward hold an annual picnic.  Though we're not Mormons ourselves, we've been invited to four of these now.  Sometimes it's just me who's invited, as the gathering is men-only.  Sometimes the wives are invited, so we both go.  Obviously the picnics are open to invited guest as well, because we got to go!

A couple days ago, our neighbors Gary and Elaine invited us to the Paradise Ward 3 High Priest's picnic.  We actually live in ward 2, but the border between ward 2 and ward 3 is State 165, which separates Gary and Elaine from us.  The picnic was held at the Paradise town park, and the festivities started off with a blessing on the meal and some spectacular prime rib.  Gary (in photo at right) – who doesn't look like he could possibly eat a hunk of meat like that – ate two servings of prime rib, along with a healthy selection of the other goodies on offer: rolls, fruit, potato salad in several varieties, cole slaw, and about twenty kinds of desserts.  Debbie and I stuffed our faces very well.  I particularly enjoyed the prime rib (nice and rare like I like it!) and one particular potato salad made with lots of dill and homemade mayonnaise.  Yum!  Debbie destroyed a giant chocolate chip cookie for dessert; I was too full to partake.  Someone there made homemade chocolate sodas that were delicious.  The recipe was simple enough: club soda, a little cream, and some unusually good chocolate syrup (Ghirardelli Black Label Chocolate Sauce).  Good stuff, that was!

After the meal there were a series of people giving us a little entertainment.  First there was a sing-along to a song I didn't know: Homegrown Tomatoes.  Debbie and I sang along, but we noticed that not too many other people were. :)  After that, we had a reading of cowboy poetry – a funny poem about someone trying to tag a calf by pulling its head into the truck window.  It didn't end well, but it was definitely funny.  Then someone else read a short story, also a very funny one, about getting lost and survival.  All of it was great good fun, with lots of good-natured ribbing and smiling involved.  We got to see a few people we already knew, but a great many more that we'd never met before.  Even though we're not LDS ourselves (and therefore not a member of a ward), most of our neighbors belong to ward 2 and many of the things we get involved with are ward 2 activities – so those are the people we're most likely to meet.  That's a direct consequence of the concentration of LDS members here.  Our closest non-Mormon neighbor is about a mile north of us – quite literally everyone else within about a mile radius of us is a member of the LDS church, including, of course, every single one of our neighbors.

It's a good thing for us that the Mormons are so accepting of non-members in their midst, as we're seriously outnumbered!

Wednesday, September 7, 2016

Paradise ponders...

Paradise ponders...  Well, we had a bit of progress on our construction projects yesterday, a relief to see after a week of nothing.  Our roofers came over, marked and cut the roof over the mudroom where the new gable will go.  That means the framers can now frame the roof on the mud room, and then the roofers can come put the new roof on that.  Nothing else happened, though – the fellow who's going to do our sprinklers (and grading) is now two weeks late, the framers a week and a half, and the custom doors we ordered are now three weeks late.  After living through this (and far more) doing our barn, I'm kind of used to it.  Debbie's ready to shoot everybody, just on general principle :)

I stared working on the electrical part of the sun room project.  The first step on that was some simple demolition work: taking off the siding on the part of the exterior wall that's now inside the sun room (photos below).  Once I had it down to the bare OSB sheath, I pulled apart the electrical wiring from the two old lights and a GFI outlet to figure them out.  It was oddly wired (no surprise there!), so it took me a bit of work to figure out what they did.  There were two light fixtures, one one either side of the door.  The outlet was near the floor on the right, and the light switch was on the inside, to the left of the door from this perspective.  I'm going to be installing three light fixtures, one in the center high up, the other two on either side of the door but further out than they were.  I'm also going to install an outlet on either side of the door, and a three-way switch both inside and outside the door.  I was hoping to re-use some of the existing wiring, but after scoping it all out I've concluded that it will have to be entirely redone.  Oh, well.  To get the wire installed behind the sheathing, I'll have to remove a horizontal strip of sheathing so that I can drill holes through the studs.  I can “fish” the wires vertically behind the sheathing without much trouble, but horizontally I have to do it the hard way.


I've been walking with the puppies every day, generally on a route that takes us for a two mile round trip with about 700' of elevation change.  This is great exercise for both me and the puppies!  Yesterday morning on the way out, I spotted some interesting shadows (see photo at right, click to embiggen).  The giant sprinkler my neighbor was running spewed spray over a roughly 125' long swath.  His barn (yes, that's a barn in the photo!) casts shadows from the morning sun right into that spray, where they had an interesting three-dimensionality about them.  Meanwhile, our blue spruce nicely shaded my camera lens to make it possible for this almost-straight-into-the-sun photo.

Tuesday, September 6, 2016

More memories...

More memories ... from my mom's collection of photos.  All of these photos are modern copies of older photos; I do not have the originals.

On the back of this undated photo, in my mom's handwriting: “Grandmom Johnson”.  That means this is my great-grandmother Johnson, my mom's mother's mother.  I have no memory of that face; I don't know if I ever met this woman.  I don't remember any of the parents of my mom's parents, which makes me think that none of them were alive by the time I was four or five years old.  I have no idea of the location.

What a photo!  It's undated, and on the back, in my mom's handwriting: “Don - Elinor Janet Myra & Kay”.  Dapper Don would be my mom's brother Donald, my uncle.  My mom is second from the left.  If she's 7 in that photo, this would be '42 – wartime.  I have no idea who Janet, Myra, and Kay are, but I'm pretty sure they're not my mom's siblings.  This would have been taken in either Locust or Highlands New Jersey, where my mom lived as a child.

This is undated, and on the back in my mom's handwriting it says simply “Elinor”.  So this is my mom as an infant, probably in '36.  That carriage appears to be made of reeds, like a basket.  She's smiling as though she has no idea there's a Great Depression going on, which of course she wouldn't have.  I can only guess that this was taken in Locust or Highlands, where her family lived.

This photo is also undated, but has a longer note in my mom's handwriting on the back:
Don MacLaughlin & Elinor & German couple who worked for Henschel's early '40s – they were put in concentration camp during World War II.
The girl on the left is my mom.  She looks to be about 5 or 6, which would put this in '40 or '41, just before the U.S. entered WWII.  That's her dad whose lap she's sitting on, my grandfather, looking very much younger than my memories of him.  I don't know the German couple at all.  I hope they fared all right during their incarceration.  My mom's hair looks very light – blond – in this photo.  I wonder if it really was?  I don't know where the photo was taken, and of course I have no clue why it was taken.  Did the German couple have some sort of relationship with my mom's family?  Friends, perhaps?  I don't think I'll ever find that out...

This could be here, except for the f-bomb...

This could be here, except for the f-bomb...


Monday, September 5, 2016

More memories...

More memories ... from my mom's collection of photos.  The four photos here are modern copies of older photos; I don't have the originals.

I think this is my mom, at 2 or 3 (so '37 or '38).  I have no idea where the photo was taken.  There is no date on it, but in the back, in my mom's handwriting, this:
Oh - oh -
Donnie's name for me stuck with Dad
I have no idea what that actually means, nor what name stuck with her dad.  I'm inferring that this is a photo of mom from that note.

This is the woman we called “Aunt Kitty” (though really she wasn't related), and the child is my mom's younger sister Bonnie (my aunt).  It's undated.  I'd have recognized both, but my mom's note on the back clinches it: “Aunt Kitty & Bonnie”.  Interesting that my mom called her Aunt Kitty, just as we did!  If Bonnie was around 7 in that photo, it would have been taken somewhere around '46 or '47, toward the end of the war.  Is it just me, or do Bonnie's head and arms look too big for her body?

 This one, according to my mom's note on the back, shows “Vivian, Betty, and Lillian Audey”.  Betty was her older sister and my aunt.  Lillian was another sister (and my aunt).  I don't recognize Vivian and Audey as sisters, though they both could be – I didn't actually know my mom's family all that well, and other than Aunt Betty and Aunt Bonnie, we didn't see them very often.  I don't know the date or the location.

On the back of this photo, in my mom's handwriting, this:
Elinor Donnie Bonnie – "Bum" Steven Hauxhurst (neighbor in Locust)
From this I'm inferring that the two older kids are (left-to-right) my mom and her brother (my uncle) Donnie, and the two younger kids (left-to-right) are her sister (my aunt) Bonnie, and a neighbor kid Steven.  The dog I'm sure is named “Bum”; mom told stories about that dog, but I'd never seen a photo of him before.  I'm also assuming it was taken in Locust (given Steven's presence), though the house behind them isn't the house I knew in Locust.

Philae has been found!

Philae has been found!  Details here.  Congratulations to the Rosetta/Philae team for the successful detective work...

A morning walk in the country...

A morning walk in the country...  With Mako and Cabo.  They're getting noticeably better with each walk.  This time, though, we did have one small catastrophe: Mako freaked a little bit when our neighbor's horses came running over to see us.  Somehow he managed to wrap his leash around my leg in such a way that it ripped my iPhone right out of my belt pack, and it went tumbling to the concrete in front of our neighbor's barn.  My screen now has two big cracks across it. :(  Everything still seems to work fine, amazingly, so for the moment at least I'm just going to ignore it as strictly a cosmetic issue. 

Today the horses were brave enough to approach us (which caused the little freak out on Mako's part), and the puppies were brave enough to approach them.  Noses were touched, and tails were wagged.  Cuteness hung in the crisp morning air. :)  Some photos:


Debbie made it to Inspiration Point...

Debbie made it to Inspiration Point...  And she saw about 15 Rocky Mountain goats, including 5 or 6 babies.  Woo hoo!  The trip wasn't nearly as hard on her knee as I was expecting.  In fact, the worst part about the trip for her wasn't the rough road – it was the simple length of the trip (five hours).  In that time her left foot got quite swollen and painful.  This is normal for a foot that's not being walked on, and that issue will go away once she starts putting her full weight on it while walking.  It looks like the practical limit for a drive for her is about three hours until that happy day.

We left around 4 pm, and didn't get home until after 9 pm.  When we arrived at Inspiration Point, around 7 pm, it was quite dark from thick clouds overhead, and there was a light rain.  The visibility wasn't the best, and the mountain goats weren't as near by as when Tim and I were here earlier in the week – but they were still closer than any we saw in the San Juan Mountains two years ago, and we had great views of them through binoculars and telescope.  No photos, though.

We left Inspiration Point for home around 7:30 pm.  Within a half hour or so it was dark enough that we needed our headlights – and by the time we reached Mantua it was pitch black out.  I used the overhead lights for most of that time; really appreciated the visibility all that light (four high-power headlight bulbs) provided.

The road was incredibly busy with traffic on the weekend.  Lesson there: never go on a weekend!  Despite the high volume of traffic, though, there weren't many people actually at Inspiration Point.  That part, at least, was quite pleasant.

We took Cabo and Mako with us for their first four-wheeling trip, and for the new altitude high for them (9,400').  They did just fine.  Mako was either asleep or sleepy for nearly the entire trip.  Cabo was awake, observing, and sniffing like mad for nearly the entire trip.  Both were good car riders, with (as with all our other field spaniels) not the slightest hint of car sickness or fear.  I walked them once, at Inspiration Point, and despite having other people and even a dog around, they didn't get afraid or overly excited.  Good puppies!

There were some pretty scenes as we headed back, looking west:


Sunday, September 4, 2016

More memories...

More memories ... from my mom's collection of photos...

My brother Scott in a photo dated (by the lab) February 1959.  It looks like he's standing in the field that was east of our house, but at the east side of it (near US 130).  These hollies were all dug out and removed within a year or two of this photo; later my brother Mark had his house in that field.  This is the fourth photo I've found like this, where either Scott or myself was standing next to a holly tree.  I'm guessing my dad took these photos, and likely for inclusion in the catalogs and brochures he was printing for his mail order business.  A professional photographer he was not. :)

This is me, in a photo dated (by the lab) February 1959.  I remember that wire basket, though I haven't thought about it in probably over 50 years.  My parents sold small bags of oak leaf mold in paper bags at their retail nursery.  We'd fill those bags by opening them into this wire basket, shovel in the leaf mold, then close the bags with gummed tape that we had to wet before applying it.  Looks like those bags held about half a six year old kid! :)

Here's my brother Scott (left) and me (right).  The photo is dated (by the lab) March 1955; I'd have been two and a half, Scott just over a year old.  He sure looks like he's enjoying his bouncy horse!  That photo was taken in our living room, looking to the northwest.  The picture windows, sans its later “picture frame” surround, is visible at left.  Between us in the photo you can see what appears to be an unfinished wall – later there would be a small closet there, where we kept our games, playing cards, etc.  That overstuffed chair I remember very well.  For some reason, the memory that immediately comes up is my dad sitting in that chair, me on his shoulders, brushing his hair while he groaned in delight.  We kids loved that...

This photo is also dated (by the lab) March 1955, but Scott (foreground) and I (background) are dressed differently than the previous photo – it must have been on a different day, same roll of film.  The setting of this photo is just to the right of that in the last photo.  You can see the same chair at left in the photo.  This one clearly shows the nook (where that table is) that was later filled with bookshelves.  Oh, I remember those bookshelves so very well – once I was able to read, I devoured everything on them, several hundred volumes in all.  That little “window” was a serving window that led to the kitchen (which you're seeing through it).  I remember that table well, and it's been in several other photos I've posted.  The baseboard has not yet been installed here, and several other parts of the house would have been unfinished at that point (especially the “new” bathroom).

This is me on the little-used front porch of our home.  It's dated (by the lab) April 1955, when I was two and a half.  It looks like I had a cigarette (!) in my mouth, which is at least possible as my mom was still smoking at that point (she quit in 1964 when the Surgeon General announced that cigarettes caused health problems).  If you squint a little, you can see my brother Scott behind me, through the open door.  It must be my mom behind Scott, though I can't make out her face.  That wooden crate on the right would be valuable today; crates like that were common on our farm in my youth, as were bushel baskets.  I saw an old-fashioned bushel basket, just like the ones we had so many of (for apples and peaches) in an IFA (farm store) here not long ago – being sold as an antique, with an asking price of $259.  If only we'd known!

I love this photo of my brother Scott!  I can't quite make out what that box says, but I'm guessing it's some sort of model.  The photo is dated (by the lab) December 1958, when Scott was five.  Most likely this is just after Christmas, and the model was a gift.  I can make out a boat on a trailer in front of his arm, and it looks like he's holding another part in his right hand.  Such a look of concentration on his face!  Behind him is an old-fashioned rotary phone, sitting on a small cabinet that I remember (mainly I remember those drawer pulls!).  That's the local phone book underneath the phone.  My younger friends have probably never seen a phone like that, made out of heavy, thick Bakelite plastic and practically indestructible.  Those things had old-fashioned carbon particle microphones that you had to loosen up (by banging the mouthpiece against the table!) every so often, or the person on the other side of the call wouldn't be able to understand you. :)  I remember that old formica round dining table that Scott was sitting at; it had an aluminum extrusion that wrapped around its edge, with two joints in it.  Those joints were sharp, and I always tried to sit away from them.  The table is in our home's kitchen bay, and the camera is pointing just north of east.  Through the window behind Scott you can see the field east of our house, and rows of trees in it.  Those were hollies that we grew to a saleable size.  In the distance you can see utility poles; they were along US 130 that bordered our farm on the eastern side.  Across that highway, though not clearly visible here, was a large apple orchard belonging to a family named Sadley.  That land was (much) later gifted to the Catholic church (the Sadleys were Catholic) for the purpose of building a nunnery.  The church decided to sell it instead, which really upset the family.  Mr. Sadley had died at that point, but his widow renounced the church; I was told she never attended church again, nor received any priest.  One of their sons, Joe, was a school friend of mine; he also renounced the church.  Isn't it amazing what memories a photo like this can call up?

More memories...

More memories ... from my mom's collection of photos...

We'll get the really embarrassing photo out of the way first.  Left-to-right, this is my brother Mark, my sister Holly, me, and my brother Scott.  This was taken in the kitchen of our parent's home on the farm in Robbinsville, New Jersey.  My mom wrote “Mark Holly Tom Scott late ‘80s” on the back; the photo is otherwise undated.  The photographer was facing north, looking out the kitchen's bay windows.  A painting by my mom hangs on the wall.  The octagonal table we're sitting at was in our family's cabin in Maine, then moved to New Jersey, then to Virginia, and now it's on the way back to Maine (if it's not there already).  I don't have any memory of this gathering of the family, but it must have been during the period when I was running Epoch Technologies (a company that sold practice management software to optometrists and ophthalmologists) – Mark was our best salesperson, and my mom helped with the sales process.  Mark was making an awesome career change, from auto body repair expert to software salesman – quite a change!  My mom knew we were struggling, and just wanted to help (which she did, very much).  Check out those giant round glasses on Holly!  I sure hope they were plastic lenses, otherwise they must have weighed a couple pounds. :)

This undated photo is of my brother Scott, with my dad napping on the couch behind him.  My dad loved naps, any time of day or night.  It's taken in our living room, looking west out the picture window, and obviously at night.  Several things to note here.  First, there's a freaking bird cage left of the picture window.  While I can certainly imagine my mom keeping a bird, I have no memory of this at all.  I wonder what kind of bird (or birds) it was?  I do remember that rocker and hassock.  I'm guessing Scott is about two in the photo, which would place this in late '55 or early '56.  The picture window is missing the “picture frame” surround that was installed later.  It's hard to make out, but you can also see that the bookshelves that would later be installed in the nook (to the right of the couch in the photo) have not been installed yet.  There's also a great view of that rug that I simply have no memory of.  I must have played on that rug a lot – funny that I don't remember it at all.

This is my uncle Donald MacLaughlin, my mom's older brother.  The few memories I have of him are of a much younger man.  The time stamp on the photo dates it to February 16, 1997, and I have no reason to doubt it.  On the back, in my mom's handwriting, it says “Don & Marian MacLaughlin”.  I don't recall ever meeting Marian, but I could be wrong about that.  I don't recognize the place where the photo was taken.

This undated photo has on the back, in my mom's handwriting: “Donald MacLaughlin Son of my brother Donald”.  The original is a badly processed print with a color balance far worse than what you see at left after my corrections.  This lad is my cousin, if I've worked out the relationship correctly.  I don't remember ever meeting him, and unfortunately I have no idea where he might be today.

A slightly different walk in the country...

A slightly different walk in the country...  With Cabo and Mako.  The puppies, on just their second long walk on leashes, were much better.  They're learning to avoid my big boots, and generally they're not pulling all that hard.  They're not learning to stay on one side of me, so I'm still getting leashes wrapped around my legs sometimes.  Oh, well.

It was a very pleasant morning, around 60°F, and fairly clear.  There's still some smoke in the air from far away forest fires, but the air is much clearer than it was last week.  The sunflowers are in their prime, all along the walk.  An alfalfa field about a third of the way along our walk is a week or so from cutting, and is vibrantly healthy; the plants are about 18" tall.  As we walked by this field, I spied a bit of unexpected color about 75' from the road.  I stared at it for a while, couldn't figure out what it was, so I walked out there to find out.  The puppies were hopping over the alfalfa, very cute. :)  When I got close, I saw that we had a child's pool float – quite an unexpected thing in the middle of an alfalfa field that's over a half mile from the closest house with kids!  I picked it up and hung it on a gate post (as you see in the photo above, with the field I found it in in the background).  On the way back home, I grabbed it and hung it on a post near our driveway entrance.  Hopefully the owner will see it and take it home.

On the way back into the house, I stopped to snap the photo at left.  It shows the sad condition of our beautiful copper whirligig.  Actually, the whirligig itself is just fine – but the thick copper post that held it is bent very sadly.  Last Wednesday, while Debbie and I were on a trip to Ogden, one car rear-ended another right next to our driveway, and the car in front ran down an embankment and right into our poor whirligig!  Thankfully nobody was hurt in the accident.  I'm a little surprised that nobody left their name and phone number with us, so that we could call and make a claim for reparations.  Now I have a repair job to make...

More memories...

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

I would not have recognized this photo of my maternal grandfather; only my mom's “Dad” handwritten on the back identifies it for me. The photo I have is a bad copy of a badly damaged original.  I'm guessing that the original photo dates to the mid-'60s, after he had bad symptoms of emphysema; I only saw him a few times after that.  I don't know where the photo was taken.

Here's one of my dad that I'd never seen before.  It's dated (by the lab) February 1952, a few months after my parents were married.  On the front, in my mom's handwriting (in pencil): “my wonderful husband Tom”.  On the back, also in my mom's handwriting (in fountain pen): “Tom & Lassie”.  I've heard stories about Lassie, our first dog, but I have no memories of her.  Our family home had not even been started at this point.  I'm not certain of the photo's location, but I think it was taken from the entrance to my paternal grandfather's shop, looking westward and capturing the northern side of their home from that perspective.  My dad looks so young in this photo!

This photo is dated (by the lab) July 1964, and on the back, in my mom's handwriting, it says “Tom Tommy Holly”.  Left-to-right the people are me, my dad, and my sister Holly.  I was 11; Holly 9.  It took me a while to figure out where this photo was taken.  The key clue is the driveway visible just above my dad's right elbow.  That's the driveway that led from my paternal grandparent's home east to the front of the farm and US 130.  To the left of me in the photo is the southwest corner of their home, where my grandfather's office was.  I should have recognized the white shutters immediately, but I didn't.  My great-grandmother's wing is just out of the photo's left.  The right side is all out of focus, I'm guessing because someone's thumb was in the lens (easy to do with those old cameras).  In that out-of-focus section there appears to be some sort of structure, but I think that's an illusion, as there was nothing there (especially that high).

 My brother Mark, in a photo dated (by the lab) June 1965, when he'd have been about four.  He's sitting on the marvelous swing we had outside our back yard, off to one side of where we usually parked our cars.  It hung from a large limb of a beech tree, around 15' off the ground.  I remember my dad and our farm helper “Chalky” putting that swing up.  Chalky knew how to tie a rock onto the end of some twine (an old sailor's trick), and the two of them threw that thing up several dozen times before they got it in the right place for the first rope.  The second rope took them even longer! :)  I was pretty young when they put that up, probably in '57 or '58.  By the time Mark got to use it, those ropes were nearly a decade old – and still holding.  It's probably a good thing they were so thick!  This was taken when I was almost 13, and Mark's general appearance here is how most of my memories of him are.  Just a few years after this, I left home to join the U.S. Navy, and I saw him only infrequently until the late '80s.

Finally, here's a photo that's a bit of a mystery to me, as I don't recognize any of the people in it.  Adding to the mystery is the fact that the photo is undated.  On the back, in my mom's handwriting:
Grampops wedding day
Harry Johnson
Taxi driver Highlands
30's 40's
My maternal grandmother's maiden name was Mable Johnson, so I'm presuming that Harry Johnson was her father (and my mother's grandfather, and my great-grandfather).  If so, I don't recall ever meeting him – and I'm not sure he was alive when I was born.  Highlands is a town in northern New Jersey.  I have no idea where that photo was taken, nor when.

A walk in the country...

A walk in the country ... with our two puppies.  Yesterday afternoon I took a walk on the back road near our home, for the first time in about five months.  While I was caring for Debbie, my mom, and two teensy puppies, I ran out of time for such things.  These days it's possible to find the time, and with a little prodding from our breeder (who told us the puppies needed more exercise), I'm starting those daily walks back up.  I expect to be out again this morning.

The photos below are from yesterday's walk.  The rose hips are on the wild roses growing near our driveway entrance; their sunlit bright red is startling.  In the last photo, little Cabo has discovered the delights of a leaking irrigation riser.  If you look closely, you can see the jet of water spraying out from under the left side of the rubber stopper.  Cabo got her head soaked trying to figure that out, but she finally learned how to capture the stream by tilting her head so that it struck the roof of her mouth.  She got a good drink that way.  Mako never figured it out, and didn't seem at all excited by getting wet! :)


More memories...

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

This photo isn't dated and has no note on the back.  It looks like me, around 7 or 8 years old, which would put it in '59 or '60.  The location looks like Acadia National Park (in Maine), though it could certainly be somewhere else as well.  I've got binoculars in a leather case slung around my neck; I remember these well.  They were certainly not the world's greatest binoculars, but we sure made good use of them!  Behind my right arm it looks like the detritus of a picnic, and that's exactly the sort of spot that my dad would have loved to hike to in order to eat and relax, perched at a good viewpoint from which to observe nature.

This photo is dated (by the lab) December 1955, and on the back in my mom's handwriting (fountain pen, again!) it says: “3 Gorgeous Kids”.  I think my mom might have been a bit biased in this judgment. :)  Left-to-right it's my sister Holly, my brother Scott, and me.  At the upper right in the photo you can just make out a wrought-iron strap hinge.  I remember these hinges, but I can't remember where they were in our house.  The knotty pine paneling means it was in our living room or a bedroom, but I can't think of any of those rooms that had a knotty pine door.

Here's another photo of Irene and Sliver Sturgeon, undated.  On the back, in my mom's handwriting: “Sliver + Irene Sturgeon, Lincoln, Maine”.  There's an out-of-focus kid in the background that I don't believe is from our family.  Behind the kid is my maternal grandfather, Donald MacLaughlin, with a characteristic cigarette dangling from his lips.  He smoked between three and five packs a day for many years; the consequent emphysema is what finally killed him in 1968.  I remember my mom receiving the phone call (I'm not sure from whom) to tell her that her father had died.  Her grief was piteous, and to me (at the age of 15) not entirely comprehensible.  It is much more so today.

My parents would probably be arrested these days for hosting a party like this: three little boys, swimming in the nude in full public view!  This photo is dated June 1955 (by the lab).  In the back, in my mom's handwriting: “Jonathan, Tom + Scott”  That's my brother Scott sitting, my cousin Jonathan making a face, and me standing on the right.  I'd have been about two and a half, Scott about one and a half.  Jonathan is older than I am by a year or so.  we're in the back yard of our home, going by the fence and the swing set I've seen now in many photos, but still don't remember.  It appears the photo was taken facing roughly to the east.  Seeing that inflatable pool reminds me of just how new mass-manufactured plastic items were back then.  Today precision molded, high-tech plastics are all around us, and our artifacts are increasingly made of them.  That was not so in the '50s – while there were plastic artifacts, they were far from ubiquitous and often still marveled at.  Also, the older alternatives were still easy to find.  For instance, we owned a car (a '48 Dodge) that had a steering wheel made of wood.  That wasn't because of the appearance of wood (this was not a luxury automobile :) – it was because a wooden steering wheel, at the time it was designed, was an inexpensive way to get the characteristics one wants from a steering wheel.  Today you'd only see a wooden steering wheel as an expensive add-on to a luxury car, as plastic is so much cheaper (and, in many ways, superior).  I still remember my dad marveling at the plastic bags he bought for retailing oak leaf mold.  They were primitive bags by today's standards, made from thick non-linear polyethylene.  He paid more for those plastic bags than he would have for the old-fashioned burlap bags (man is that different today!).  He liked the plastic bags because they were airtight, which meant that leaf mold bagged for retail would retain its moisture (and weight!), even after months in storage.

The lab dates this photo as December 1958, and I'm sure it was from Christmas Day.  There's the cardboard locomotive my dad put together in our basement late on Christmas Eve.  He's inside, smiling, apparently having forgotten the trauma of assembling it.  My sister Holly is in there with him, and that's me on the pedal tractor in the foreground.  I can only be grinning because I have no idea how much work the real tractor will bring me in later years! :)  The photo is taken in our living room, facing east.  You can make out our front door behind the locomotive, and the edge of our flying squirrel cage to the left.  On the holly table there's a box labeled “Totem Pole Kit” – I have no memory of that or of any resulting totem pole.  I wonder what my family's totem would have been?  Surely some species of loon!

Finally, here's another snap of Scott's off-Christmas birthday party in 1955.  The lab dates this as December 1955, but in my mom's handwriting (fountain pen, again): “Scott’s July “birthday” because he always missed the excitement in Dec.”  That's a reference to the fact that Scott was born on Christmas Day, so the celebration of his birthday – a celebration all about him – was subsumed by the general celebration of Christmas.  This shot is a little wider than the previous ones we've seen of this party.  My brother Scott, birthday lad, is behind the cake on the table with his head turned looking left.  I'm on the ground holding that roll-around toy.  My cousin Jonathan is to the left of me.  I don't recognize any of the other kids.  At left in the photo is a roll-around cart that I remember, with (at least) three more cakes on it.  My mom must have been afraid of running out!  Or perhaps some other moms brought cakes as well.  Sitting on the back porch, his right hand on the back of his head, is my uncle Donald (my dad's brother, and adoptive father of Jonathan).  In later years it was a rare thing indeed for him to visit our home, so it's slightly jarring to see him in this photo.  I don't recognize the other man in the photo.  To the left of the back door you can see a few things hanging on the wall.  The white vertically-oriented object is a thermometer – an old-fashioned glass capillary and colored alcohol type, with a white-painted metal backing and a printed scale.  That was a north-facing wall, and my dad placed it there because it was a cool, sheltered place that was easy to get to.  The main use he had for that thermometer was knowing how cold it got at night.  In the summer, the afternoon sun would strike it, and the reading was crazy high – but that didn't matter for his purposes.  Below it you can see an old-fashioned wooden hand brush that had very stiff bristles – that we used for cleaning the mud from our boots.  The alternative was to suffer the wrath of mom.  :)  I don't remember what the vertical object next to the brush was...