Yes, I am still going down memory lane. We have several computers, two at home, one at the office and one at my studio and it seems that on each computer there are different sets of photos I keep running across. We've scanned many, MANY photos over the years and I think it is time to get them in a cohesive place. Part of the reason I post these old photos and add story content is because at the end of the year I upload all to Blog2Print and print a hardbound book for my girls to have with what I can remember. I want them to know the history, the small stories that usually get lost over time. Now that Daddy is gone there is no one else to depend on to remember or even to ask about the stories.
Rattlesnake Hollow - Jay, Oklahoma, my great-grandparents home.
Granddaddy - Momma's father
OH MY GOODNESS...I love this. My little bro and me by the old chicken house in Jay. I don't even remember them ever EVER having chickens. We used to play there all the time.
Hmmm, I know this is the house on Main that we just sold. I didn't know they had dogs, my Granny and Granddaddy.
Awww, Greatgranny and Greatgrandaddy.
Okay this photo is what prompted me to start looking at all the old photos in the first place. This is Granddaddy's brother, Bob or Robert and his wife, Aunt Rose. I don't remember meeting any of the other siblings at all, barely remember meeting their mother, my great-grandmother. Uncle Bob and Aunt Rose had no children, no idea why. They were so sweet and Aunt Rose was funny funny and how she had to deal with their health issues I commend her. My mother got SO mad at Aunt Rose when Granddaddy died, thought she was interfering and just a busy-body. I don't really know what transpired but Momma was in a bad way when Granddaddy died. She was an only child and her father was her hero, her confidant, her champion and he was gone leaving her with her tyrannical, a bit crazy mother to deal with. My memory of Bob and Rose was mostly at Thanksgiving and Christmas. They would come to Granny and Granddaddy's for the holiday dinner, especially since they had no other family around. Uncle Bob was a pharmacist. He loved to grow roses and had an award winning yard full of them. He also was a beekeeper (hm...that just flashed back into my memory.) Granny always said that the chemicals he used on the rose garden caused his health issues. Uncle Bob had Parkinsons. I was very young when I learned about that horrible disease. I honestly don't remember Uncle Bob ever being normal like in this photo. He shook, he shook all the time and he couldn't really have a conversation with you. It even got to the point that he drooled. Aunt Rose would bring him to the family dinners shuffling in the door. He would sit in a chair and if he had to walk anywhere she would help him stand and then kind of give him a small push to get him moving forward. He had a forward momentum and just kept going once that soft push happened. Aunt Rose would put a bib on him and feed him like a baby. I loved Uncle Bob and just remember that this was normal.
Greatgranny (Maggie) & Greatgranddaddy (Grady) and Dan or as I knew him "Big Dan"
Oh, and remember the story about milking Pet the cow and the walk, well, here is the faithful Sandy. He would walk next to you and when on the bridge he would hug your side to keep you from the edge and end up stepping on your feet. It was amazing how heavy that dog was. This is my little Bro.
More house pictures. Momma and Daddy.
We had two couches in that house and where I was sitting was a huge metal office desk. Behind me was a nice blue couch. I was teaching myself how to type from Momma's typing book. See the Indian head there, that now sits on Momma's red secretary at my house. It's a bank but the stopper has been long gone. In the back left corner is Daddy's gun cabinet he made. We did toss it (1) because it stunk like gun oil, (2) the glass in the doors were so fragile that if it broke there would be splinters and shards. It was not made that well. I have the rose painting in the background that Momma found in the attic of the house we lived in when we were in Siloam Springs, Arkansas. She loved that painting as did I.