Before I was born

I am in the throes of planning a family reunion, it is a lot of work, but one of the best things about it is that I get to learn so much family history. I am amazed at the way that our early generation lived and made their way in the world. It is truly fascinating. These people were living breathing humans and with out them, I wouldn't be here at all. I am putting a book together of photographs and I keep being taken aback by the fact that most of these people are gone, and some of them (like my grandmother, most of her sisters and two of her brothers) are still here, just much older. As I look at each picture, I want to know more and I am somehow nostalgic for a time and a place I never knew. Maybe because I can see the resemblance in some of the pictures to me or my kids, or because I have heard so much about most of these people that I feel that I know them. Who knows? But I have to say it is haunting work. What happened after these picture? Were these people happy? Are these babies dead and gone now, and how did they live their lives? The other haunting thing is that I know some of the stories and how things turned out. I look at a picture of my grandmother's sister when she is young and I know that she died of breast cancer, or that my great grandfathers twin brother drown in a stock pond when he was five. What will our children and grandchildren learn and know about us? Will we leave enough behind to put the pieces of our lives together? A little deep, I know. Especially for someone who puts all her photos in an acid ridden shoe box and positively quakes at the suggestion of making a scrapbook. But still, I can't help but wonder.

This is a picture of my great grandmother and her daughters (I think the baby is my grandmother). Doesn't it look all dust-bowlish in this picture? My great grandparents on their honeymoon in 1925

And these are my grandmothers siblings before she was born.

I am leaving tonight for Denver and then bright and early for Chicago tomorrow. I am pretty excited, but I think I might be in some sort of guarded excitement, because I am waiting to make sure that I am out the door before I believe that I get to go...

I am taking the angels rest sock with me, but I doubt there will be much knitting because I will be busy shopping. Yay! Not that the sock will mind, I haven't touched it since the temperature reached the mid eighties and I decided it was too hot to knit. I am still trying to find my other size two needle, but I have a grave suspicion that it ended up in the trash, because the last time that I saw it, it was perched atop a stack of papers and junk that was leaning precariously toward the trash can below it. It isn't too far outside the realm of possibility that it may have fallen over and landed there in the trashcan. Now the question is, do I get a new set of needles to finish the sock or do I reap the natural consequence of not putting it away in the first place?

Ok, I'm off to pack and get out of dodge! See ya when I get back.