Since scanning in photos is one of my retirement goals, I have to share one that DD asked me to scan and send her (which I haven't done yet, but I'll do it today, cross my heart). The seated young ladies are my great-aunt Irene (Girly) Gerst Brandau, Dorothy "whose last name I don't know but who was Uncle Oscar's third wife", and my grandmother Anna Louise (Babe) Gerst Stephan, who was Mom's mom. Grandma said that they attracted the largest crowds to their games because they were the only team that played in shorts instead of bloomers. Scandalous! According to the newspaper clipping taped to the back, the Eckler Girls were crowned the city champs by beating the First Baptist sextet 19-16 on the YWCA floor. Aunt Irene and Grandma Babe starred for the winners. Evidently I come from a long line of Rebel Girls. I'll have to tell DIL1 and LC.
While I sat here zoned out in front of the computer yesterday it never occurred to me to improve the time by also scanning in this stack of photos from our 1992 dive vacation on the island of Anguilla. (I'm doing it now. *stand up, change picture, press OK, sit down*, repeat between ** a couple hundred times--it's like aerobics) Anguilla is one of the Caribbean islands that got scoured by Hurricane Irma a couple days ago. I am glad to look at these shots again and supremely confident that nothing in them remains standing. *sigh* Makes me glad I live in the land of cold and snow and ice storms. None of which invade my house with water too deep to stand in or blow the roof off our house or fling trees and billboards at me.
While Durwood got his weekly Lawrence Welk fix I went downstairs and whipped up a travel tray for my TC roomie. I try to take a little handmade "something" for my roommate(s), either something sewn or something lotion-y, seldom something yarn-ish as knitting things takes the longest and I usually leave this nicety til the last minute.
After supper I took a walk around the block and then sat on the couch adding an inch or so to Sudoku Long Strip #2. I am determined to get the Sudoku Afghan done in 2017 so that the project doesn't carry over into its 10th year. This may be the last afghan I make until I hit my dotage, which the way my brain has been slacking off lately should be showing up any day now.
September 10--James Abbott McNeill Whistler, At the Piano. Janine ran her hand over the upright piano in the back of the Salvation Army store and thought about Mom at the piano when she, Janine, had been a little girl. Mom would play in the afternoons when Janine and Christian laid down to rest. They were too grown up to nap, they told her, but she said they needed a rest after lunch. She would see that their curtains were drawn, that they had a book to read, and they knew they were not allowed to go downstairs until 2 o'clock, which motivated them both to learn to tell time. Janine was glad that her room was closest to the stairs because Mom's music floated up to her, quiet at first like tiptoeing kittens, but soon the notes raced up the stairs like stampeding horses. She knew that Mom had gone to music college and dreamed of playing her piano on the stage but Grandfather said that no daughter of his would appear on the stage like some floozie. Mom got married to Daddy instead and had Janine and Christian but Janine could tell that sometimes Mom thought about what might have been. That's when the notes spiraled upstairs, notes so slow and sad that Janine could feel Mom's tears wetting her own cheeks.
There's a home Packer game today. I have high hopes that some loud fancy airplanes will fly over. It's really the only part of football I like. Stay dry, Aunt B.
--Barbara
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