Not long ago, when my daughter was here for the weekend we looked through pictures. I thought it was interesting through the generations that over and over, we strike the same poses. We stand the same way. The kids always look peeved because they don't want to be there. The adults are solemn and stoic. This picture is my brothers and me in front of the house where we lived in about 1958. Weren't we a charming bunch?
This is the house hunk and I with our brood at Grand Canyon around 1980. It was August, but only about sixty degrees there that day, cloudy, rainy, and the kids were freezing. Naturally since the hunk was holding the little one, he didn't notice that her blanket was down around her tushie.
This is a picture of some ancestors ca 1850. Don't they look like a happy bunch? Two of the girls and the little boy (on dad's lap) married into another branch of my family. I figure that's the way to make sure you don't feel like an in-law.
These two are man and wife, last name Farmer ca 1840. They lived in Arkansas when it was a territorial frontier, long before it was a state. He was a blacksmith. When I look at them, I can readily imagine that they had the perseverance and gumption to stick it out. Times were tough. They had what it took to make it.
I wonder what my descendants will think when they look at my pictures after I'm long gone?