Childhood memories, photographic. I don't have anything left from my childhood except this little 2.5"x 2.5" book of 16 photos that my mother gave me a few years before she died. I used to have a note to Santa that I wrote in the first grade or so--had it for many years, in fact, but that's gone. It read, in part, "Dear Santa, I have been a jood girl." (As IF....) The little black doll I'm holding in the Omaha picture is gone, too. It was a present from Sister Mary Mark, my dad's oldest sister, who was a nun. I had maybe three dolls when I was growing up, and they're all gone to doll heaven. I can't say I liked playing with dolls, although my mother always handed one to me for photos.
The picture on the left is of me in front of our big house in Omaha, my birthplace (and excuse me while I smile....It always tickles me that I was born in the middle of nowhere.) The photo must have been taken when I was about 18 months, just before we all took off to live in Fargo. My dad and the older boys took Pal, dad's black labrador hunting dog, in the car and drove up, stopping at Mom's brother Henry's farm in Canby, MN. Mom, Paul, Gene, and I took the bus, I think. (Or maybe Paul went in the car, too.) There isn't a train running north & south between Omaha and Fargo.
The photo on the right is the first picture in the little book that I remember being taken. It may have been around my birthday (snow on the ground). I'm wearing a new green woolly blanket-material snowsuit that my mother made. (This garment later went to my oldest niece, Susan, who came along just 10 years later.) My nose was VERY COLD that afternoon when my mother hauled me out in front of the house (our first one in Fargo) and had me pose. I am holding a little rubber Porky Pig, which I'm surprised didn't shatter in the cold. I was glad to go back in the house when the photo session was over.
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