[Making sense of history]

The prompt for the everyday photo community this week is to take a photo of a photo. A lot of people are taking shots of things framed in their homes & offices… but I don’t have anything like that. I am unsure what that says about me. I have a few albums my mom put together for me, though, so I went through them last night. In a lot of ways it was a thoroughly depressing experience; especially in the older shots of me, I was so clearly unhappy. Some of the tiny shots are cute, though.

Me and my little brother, October 1979. He would be a few weeks old here, and I would be coming up on two years in January. I think this is a fairly typical shot: he is screaming his head off and I am very much “GET THIS THING AWAY FROM ME.”

More after the jump…

Me at Christmas, I *think* 1979. Yes, that is a crocheted housecoat. Of granny squares. I have a professional shot of me in it somewhere, which is *ridiculously* cute.

Birthday!

My dad & I reading the newspaper in June 1980. I still have those off-white recliners. They are *crazy* comfortable.

My second grade picture. Oh god, the teeth. Two years of braces to fix that monstrosity.

And my second grade Camp Fire group. I’m the one with the sash and the ridiculous expression, my brother is next to me as lord knows no one would babysit him, and Lily is the one kneeling in front of us.

Nick’s best friend through primary school, Anthony, at the Museum of History & Industry. I laughed SO HARD when I found this. I have to hunt down his email address and send it to him.

From my first trip to Minnesota in 1989. That’s my sister, DeDe, her daughter Katie, and me. Obviously. On the couch at my (paternal) grandparents’ house in International Falls, a few blocks from where Tammy Faye grew up. For serious.

My maternal grandparents quilting in their garage in Quincy, Washington. (My grandmother is my only remaining grandparent.) I walked past a gas station in Ballard earlier this week, and the smell of gas & oil & dust called up an amazingly strong memory of visiting Quincy.

And finally, the picture I posted to the community. My aunt & uncle, with my mother in the foreground looking vaguely disapproving. I think I actually took the original of this shot. I like how the film was spoiled.