Dick Foran Singing "My Little Buckaroo" (1937)

During my first NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) in 2007, I gathered many stories from my mother by phone that I incorporated into a first draft of a novel. During those daily telephone sessions, songs and music would often come up and spark her memory. On one occasion when she was talking about her early days as a new mother after World War II, she mentioned that my Dad would often sing this song to my eldest brother when he was a baby.

My Mom thought that Dick Foran was handsome and reminded her of my Dad, both in looks and in his singing voice. My Dad could croon a tune. So, a lullaby for all of the little buckaroos out there, a memory from my Mom....

Circa 1955

 

My Mother, my brother, and I, circa spring 1955. My Mother was pregnant here, probably with my brother who was born in August 1955. I always seemed to have a doll at hand in childhood photos; my brother is proudly holding his stuffed toy chimpanzee, "Zippy".

1950's Interior

Uncle Buddo, My Dad & My Oldest Brother, originally uploaded by confections.

More from the family photo archives: a living room gathering of my Dad's cousin, my Dad, and my brother, probably taken in 1950 or 1951. The biggest clue: the radio is still prominent (directly behind my Dad), and there is no sign of the television which came very soon after this.

My Mother says the drapes were made of beautiful tobacco-leaf-print barkcloth. The chair that my uncle is sitting in was turquoise and the couch (not seen) was a soft gray-green.

There are lots of storytellers in my family, and when my Dad and his cousin Buddo got together--as they did often during my childhood--they were two of the best.

My Grandfather & My Brother, 1956

My Grandfather & My Brother, 1956, originally uploaded by confections.

My paternal grandfather, age 71, and my little brother, about 8 months old, circa April 1956.

I love this tender study of my grandfather holding my baby brother. I remember this corner of the dining room very well. Usually there was a rocking chair at this spot, where both grandparents would rock the babies of the family.

My grandmother would sing "Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean" or "We are Marching to Pretoria" or "Are you an angel, my glad heart sings, are you an angel, where are your wings? Are you an angel, are you an angel? Tell me, dear."

My grandmother's indoor plants are visible on the little side table. Her glass-front china cabinet was in the opposite corner, and the sideboard that held the cookie jar was just to my grandfather's right.

I loved exploring the contents of that sideboard reverentially. In addition to the cookie jar and lovely embroidered linen scarf beneath it, the drawers and cubbies of the sideboard held many treasures. I recall thumbing through my grandmother's yellowed copy of The White House Cook Book which she kept on an inside shelf.

Above and behind my grandfather was a photographic portrait in an oval frame of my grandmother in high-button shoes at about age six--lost to posterity as far as I know.

My grandfather's preeminent realm, however, was the basement (in my child's mind, at least). He had an old-time crank Victrola and an extensive collection of 78 rpm records. We played a lot of foxtrots, as I recall, and danced around.

Every year he made sauerkraut in huge crocks, following a tradition that I'm sure he learned from his grandfather. I have a vivid memory of going with him and my parents to Trax farmstand in Allegheny County, Pennsylvania, to buy bushels full of cabbage in preparation for this ritual.

He made potent red wine that aged in the cellar where my grandmother kept her canned tomatoes and piccalilli and homemade ketchup. He, alongside my father, built a cabin in the Pennsylvania woods that served as a hunting and fishing camp and family gathering place.

He and my grandmother cultivated flower and vegetable gardens and five strapping boys and lived to celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary, a grand fest which was documented on 8mm film by my uncle.

I'm still trying to solve a family mystery about the identity of my grandfather's father. I have a few clues, but no hard primary data. The genealogical research continues.

I know I have mentioned this just recently, but I reiterate: please conduct oral history interviews with significant people in your life. Future generations will thank you.

Jessie Willcox Smith & a Little Contest

 

 

 

 

One of the rare images from my Green Tiger Press archive is the one shown here by Jessie Willcox Smith, "Washing Day for Doll Clothes". The sentimental way in which she captures moments from childhood reminds me in this particular instance of the illustrations from the "Dick and Jane" readers that I grew up with as a child of the 1950's.

Vintage collectors know that often we try to collect the essence of our childhood, what we delighted in at Grandma's house, the favorite casserole dish of our Mom. I suppose my attraction to the Green Tiger Press images that led me to collect them close to a generation ago could be explained in that way. I love classic children's books and their timeless illustrations and have surrounded myself with them all my life.

What do you collect that reminds you of your childhood? Please leave a comment below and at the end of the week (next Sunday, August 23rd, 2009 at 11:00 p.m. Pacific Daylight Saving Time), I will hold a drawing with a number generated at random.org and send the winner an image from my Green Tiger Press archive.

Hint: in addition to answering the question about your personal collections, please mention a favorite fairy tale or character from children's literature, and I'll do my best to select a Green Tiger Press card that complements that theme for the winner. Thanks, and happy reminiscing!

My Maternal Grandfather as a Baby (Restored Tintype) [two]

My Maternal Grandfather as a Baby (Restored Tintype) [two], originally uploaded by confections.

My maternal grandfather was born 130 years ago today on July 25th, 1878. I never knew this grandfather except through photos of him as an adult and my Mother's stories. I had never seen this small tintype photo of him as a baby until I visited my Aunt Margaret on her farm in Muncie, Indiana, at Thanksgiving 2001.

She generously let us scan some family photos, including this image. The original tintype was a bit faded and damaged. When I posted the scan on flickr, one of my long-lost Galbraith cousins saw it and restored it to the state you see here. Thanks, Al! The original photo is shown below and a sepia version is included as well.

Vintage Effanbee Doll Collage (New Dress)

Vintage Effanbee Doll Collage (New Dress), originally uploaded by confections.

My vintage Effanbee doll (which I introduced in my April 19th blog entry) has been duly newly clad in a calico dress. She doesn't look nearly as forlorn as she did a few short weeks ago. Clothes make the doll!

I raided my stash of quilting calicoes to find the appropriate complement to my circa World War I era doll. I believe she is a prototype of the "Baby Dainty" Doll produced by Effanbee at that time. I found a reproduction Simplicity doll pattern for the bodice piece and gathered a rather long skirt to it, accented with a deep tuck. It's been donkey's years (oh, I miss Princess Diana!) since I have made any doll clothes.

My first major foray into sewing as a grade-schooler was cranking out Barbie doll clothes on my mother's vintage Singer treadle sewing machine. Barbie doll clothes are on such a tiny scale, they are quite tedious to sew, I think. Baby Dainty is about 14 inches tall and her chest is 10 inches in circumference, so sewing her dress was a breeze by comparison. She was all dressed up and I had promised to take her to a tea party, so off we went to meet up with my girlfriends and sister at Tea-Upon-Chatsworth for a delightful high tea and furrawn (per Anais Nin: soulful conversation that is deeply intimate).

My girlfriends each brought along a doll and a picture from their childhood. I shared one of me with my Ginny doll from the mid-1950's (shown below). Ah, sweet bird of youth!