Nancy Merrill’s Photo a Week Challenge: Traditions
IN A NEW POST CREATED FOR THIS CHALLENGE, SHARE ONE OR TWO OR MORE PHOTOS SHOWING A TRADITION YOU HAVE.
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Did you check the bathtub? Look in the closet! Behind the couch!
Under the table!
When my two children were growing up (and even when they were grown up and home for a visit), Easter morning meant hunting for Easter baskets.
During the Easter Bunny era, it involved more and more intricate hiding places as they got older. The thrill of the hunt was paramount.
The E.B. had to get extra creative (hence the bathtub)…or else the search was over in ten seconds.
After all, the E.B. filled four baskets with carefully selected jelly beans, chocolate bunnies, candy eggs and small stuffed bunnies. As the years went by…basketball cards, little books, stickers, trinkets & puzzles were added…
…so let’s make it a challenge! (thought the E.B.)
The E.B. was usually successful…and a sweet family tradition was born.
1988
1988
1989
1993
The sister and brother team eventually figured out where to look…every time.
I dug into my massive collection of family photos for this challenge…and immediately thought of my grandmother Oma. I remember her closet full of shoes – stacked high on shelves in carefully labeled shoeboxes. Coordinating purses piled nearby. Many with small matching coin purses. Mostly black. She once told me that her favorite color was black – because it matched everything…of course!
As a child I never saw her without makeup on. Hair styled. Stockings (or “hose” as she called them) and heels. Always a dress or skirt.
I used to be a flapper she once told me. It sounded so glamorous…and so cool…and so not the grandmother I knew. Mysterious yet thrilling.
One photo was taken in 1927 at a 4th of July picnic. Twenty year old Oma is in the middle with a girlfriend on either side. (Plus a guy trying shenanigans or photo bombing behind them)
All wearing the latest swimwear (?) fashion.
1927
I admit to being curious about the shirt emblems. Perhaps the CAC stood for Cincinnati Athletic Club…since they all lived in Cincinnati. But I know that women were not allowed as members until over 75 years later (I spent too much time online looking that up…my inner Nancy Drew at work). So were they wearing their boyfriend’s shirts? Or suits? I know there’s a story there.
Apparently for whatever reason, Oma was stylin’ in something completely different.
Somehow I’m not surprised.
Another photo highlighting the fashion of the era is undated, but I would guess mid 1920s as well. My great grandmother and Oma showing off some festive hats…
circa 1920s
And not to leave out the men, I found a photo taken in 1923. A group of machine tool salesmen posing after a meeting. I think my great grandfather worked for this company, so he would be the man pointed out in the back row.
1923
It doesn’t appear that men have veered too far from this suit and tie fashion combo in the years since then.
Our second day at the Shelburne Museum was blessed with sunshine, warm temperatures and…flowers…everywhere I looked.
Camera in hand, I staked out butterflies at the Owl Cottage Garden with its glorious path of zinnias.
I sat on the steps and waited.
Another visitor with a macro lens had just had success, so I kept the faith. Tiptoeing next to collections of oranges, reds, yellows, purples….I spotted it.
The lone butterfly I hoped to capture (in a photo that is) appeared.
I assumed it was a real butterfly. It wasn’t as colorful as the ones I had seen the day before. But it cooperated…and gave me time to focus.
I am not sure what kind of flowers these are, but I was attracted by the massive butterfly presence. We are spending a few days in Vermont at the amazing Shelburne Museum. The grounds at this museum are full of gorgeous flower gardens. Yesterday the butterflies were everywhere.
I finally was at the right place at the right time. Camera focused.
This could also qualify as the “Butterfly of the Day” if there was such a challenge.
Inspired by Lens-Artists Photo Challenge: Precious Pets
…We have a dog. Her name is Kaki. She is a beagle…
Kaki
That was the grand announcement in my diary for January 1, 1965 for the first (and last) dog to appear during my childhood. Three scrawled blue ink sentences interspersed between waxing my new white bike, describing my parents’ Open House and watching The Addams Family and Gomer Pyle that night on television.
Kaki’s arrival actually happened on Christmas Eve 1964. I imagine she was supposed to be a Christmas present for me and my 3 younger siblings…
…We have a surprise for you all!
The front door opened and a small dog broke loose from my father’s grip. She started running – taking off down the hall through the kitchen and into the dining room. From there she ran straight into the 4 of us waiting in the living room. Where a fully decorated Christmas tree was standing in the corner. All hell broke loose.
We all chased her. She ran faster. Repeating the circular path around the main floor of the house. Kitchen-Dining Room-Living Room. My parents yelled. The next thing I remember, our new dog ran into the tree and grabbed ornaments in her mouth. Glass ornaments. The tree may have tipped over. I was petrified. She’s swallowed glass. She might die!
My remembering gets murky after that. I think my father finally caught her and checked her mouth. Gave her bread to eat, which was supposed to stick to the shards from the ornament. Perhaps the actual drama was shorter lived, but it was scary for all of us – Kaki (named for her brown colored ears) was probably the most scared.
It was my mother’s well meaning idea to give us a dog. I think it completed her dream of the ideal family unit: mother, father, 4 kids and a dog. In her dream we would all help take care of it. Without complaint. The dog would, of course, behave perfectly. There would be no peeing on the floor. No chewing on furniture. Eating the pompoms off the tablecloth. Throwing up on the rug.
Unfortunately for Kaki, she behaved about as perfectly as the imperfect children in this less than ideal household. She was a sweet dog, though. I enjoyed walking her around the block. Searching the neighborhood (repeatedly) for her when she escaped out the front door…not so much. I wonder now if my parents ever brought her to obedience school.
Several years later (4 or 5?) my parents gave her away to a single guy (I think he was a veteran) who wanted a dog. I don’t remember why or when or how.
When I had a family of my own – including a daughter and a son – the subject of getting a dog came up a few times. My husband and I decided we had enough to do with jobs, a house, kids and activities. I saw first hand as a child…dogs are a lot of work and take a lot of time. And sometimes it doesn’t go according to plan.
When you grow up, you can have your own dog!…was our standard answer.
And they did.
My daughter and her husband adopted a rescue dog in 2014. Lutra is a well loved (and well trained!) member of the family. She loves squeaky chew toys, cheese and helping out with crumbs below the chair belonging to the newest human member of the family. She does not like squirrels or cats and lets them know it too.
My 3 year old grandson considers Lutra to be his dog.
Lutra
My son finally got a dog of his own this past February. He and his girlfriend also adopted a rescue dog. It had been found lost on a highway in Arkansas with no chip or ID. They discovered him on an adoption site online and he arrived via a freight truck at a rest area nearby. We went with them to pick up their new pet.
They were understandably a bit nervous – after all they lived in a small 4th floor walkup apartment in Boston. A high strung barking dog would be a challenge. The agreement included a 2 week trial period, but as it turned out…they had nothing to worry about. It was a perfect match. We could see it that cold day in the parking lot as they met for the first time….
IN A NEW POST CREATED FOR THIS CHALLENGE, SHARE ONE OR TWO OR MORE PHOTOS WITH NATIVE OR ADDED TEXTURE.
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Friends of ours live in a home with a wood burning fireplace. Not a wood stove, but the old fashioned version where you build a roaring fire on a snowy winter day. Where flaming sparks crackle and fly when you toss more wood in to keep it going. The type of fireplace with the chimney for Santa. A real life yule log.
It’s for keeping extra warm while enjoying a book from the local library in the comfy chair nearby. Or while watching a Patriots game on television.
During one hot summer day, I noticed their growing collection of wood logs…freshly cut by our friend himself. Stacked very carefully in the backyard as they age and dry out. Waiting for the cold.
Inspired by Frank at Dutch goes the Photo. The prompt: City
My favorite vacation destination city is San Diego, California. The place for shopping at Horton Plaza and Seaport Village. Or checking out the museums at Balboa Park – including the Hall of Fame Sports Museum (now closed). The San Diego Zoo and Spreckels Organ performances. Sightseeing and getting a family photo taken dressed up in “old time” outfits in Old Town.
And of course theater! And delicious food and drink (one memorable dinner at China Camp is part of family lore).
Coronado is just over the bridge from San Diego …
It’s where I took this photo of the San Diego skyline…one sunny day in 2006.
San Diego, California
Fun Fact: Traveling across the Coronado Bay Bridge is a unique experience. When we visited with our 2 kids, we rented a minivan. While driving from Coronado to San Diego and back again, I knick named it the “scary bridge.” I insisted we stay in the middle lane and avoided looking out the side window. Sitting up higher in a minivan means you don’t see the bridge side barriers.
As I recall, the kids thought it was quite exciting.
This is a video someone else posted of this scary drive.
one letter UP ~ diary 2.0 