My childhood friend Dan is writing a book and he wanted photos of my parents from during WWII and man oh man, I knew there were a few around somewhere but you know how it is when you find yourself tripping over something at every turn until you are actually LOOKING FOR IT! Where? I could not find them. I have scans on my laptop but the resolution isn’t high enough.
So, we were up in the yooperland closing up the moomincabin a couple weeks ago and I knew there were some photooos there and the next thing I knew, I had a whole trunk full of photooos and 8mm film and letters from my moom to her dad back in WWII, the guy I called Funny Grandaddy. The photos? Can I just say RANDOM? Old photooos of me when I was a kid, the Veteran Greenhorns, my grandma at various ages, the beach urchins, crummy photos of the parents’ trips “across the pond”, my uncle Austin with Mitt Romney’s moom (yes, really), all kinds of awful moominbeach sunset photos. Back in those days, everybody had film cameras and you didn’t throw anything away, even the bad out-of-focus photos with part of your hand in front of the lens, etc.
And there was this photooo of my childhood house, which was not the house I sold back in September. Humble, isn’t it? So was the house I sold but marginally not as much.
I’m not sure when this photo was taken but by the time my memories gain clarity about the details, there was more vegetation around it. A big bushy flowering crab tree on the right and a spruce tree on the left. Boy oh boy, do I know that house. My parents’ bedroom was behind the two little windows above the front door. The downstairs window on the right is the [small] living room. On the left is my bedroom from age six until I left for college and my parents moved to the Dillon house. The short window is the bathroom (no shower), and behind that is the dining room (and underneath that is the window into the Silence of the Lambs room… I mean that it was the part of the basement that scared me the most. (Are all kids afraid of the basement?) What the heck? Sometimes *I* am *still* afraid of the basement. I mean the Landfill Dungeon of course.
My brain is bouncing around tonight, thinking about how to process all of the photooos that my parents left behind, some of which I care about, others I do not!!!! So here are a couple of photooos of the interior of the Superior Street house. First, The Commander working at her stove in what was actually a pretty cool kitchen for such a humble house. I vaguely remember the stove in the photooo. I have clearer memories of the stove that she replaced it with, which had a light saying that “Units” were on. I loved bugging The Comm with, “Mooooom, units is on!” My moom (and that stove) must’ve been ahead of their time because Gertrude does a similar thing. The Commander would’ve LOVED Gertrude!!!
And here is me in my bedroom. I don’t know exactly what I am doing at that yellow table. I kind of remember the table but I have no clue about what I am doing. I did not have a closet so that rack of clothes behind me was where I hung my clothes but I would have to think for a while whether or not I remember any individual items, including what I’m wearing…
Lots of photoooos and other media to sort out. Including my own iPhoto…
P.S. Hey, there’s Medicine Duck kind of thrown over there on my bed. He’s yellow. I still have him!