Those Awkward School Pictures!

School pictures.

Back in my day there was no "retouching" option.

Back in my day, it meant sleeping in pin curls and my bangs taped to my forehead the night before. 

Back in my day ...

Ok, it's kind of embarrassing, but I'll show you a few of my school pictures.

First grade was the only school picture I really liked.

This was one of my favorite dresses.
My bangs weren't looking great - but then again I have always been challenged with my hair.

I have a very high forehead with a widow's peak.
My mom used to call it a "heart shaped face".
My hair is really fine and really straight and there were no curling irons back then.
Hence, the pin curls and tape.

This photo was either 2nd or 3rd grade.
The pin curls didn't work out well this year!

But my bangs were a little longer.
The slight curve at the bottom of the bangs was achieved by taping my damp bangs to my forehead
before I went to bed (with scotch tape!) so they would dry that way as I slept.

I used to like this dress with the red bow and peter pan collar.
My huge honker front teeth had come in - but they came in yellow instead of white!
Why does that happen that way?
All in all, this picture wasn't that bad.

When I saw this picture, I knew I had sunk to an all time low.
My mother should have stopped trying to make my hair curl every year!
This year it looked frizzy!
The side part was not flattering either!
Neither was the space in between my two front teeth
   or the "snaggle tooth" sticking out on one side!
I hated the "jumper" and red shirt.
Fourth grade was just NOT a good year for school pictures!

Fifth Grade.  Or maybe 6th.
I felt I made a come-back compared to the disaster of 4th grade.
I had grown out my bangs.
We should have given up on the curls too!
We had moved on from pin curls to hard, pink plastic rollers that I had to try to sleep in.
This plaid dress with the Nehru collar was "in" at the time and I loved it.
Little did I know that by next year puberty would have hit
            and gone would be the flawless skin of youth!

I think this was 7th grade.
My face was probably covered in clearsil.
It was ALWAYS shiny too!
But the curls are gone!
My "snaggle tooth" is still there - I never did get braces!

I didn't like this picture either.


I had thought 4th grade would be my all-time least favorite
school picture, but I was wrong.
It was 8th grade.

The center part was popular - but didn't do anything for me!
My complexion was not good.
My hair was so oily I had to wash it twice a day sometimes!
My teeth were dingy yellow - I didn't whiten them until I was 40 years old!
My purple striped sweater was very hip, I thought.
I think I wore it with my purple skirt.
I'd like to believe I really didn't look like this.
But I probably did.


I don't have any school pictures from high school.
Thank God!

I'm Trying to Understand

I got really angry at my parents this past week.

I know they loved and cherished us.
I know they were good parents.
They would have laid down their lives for us - I have no doubt.

As I went through the old photos, I was particularly interested in finding pictures of ME when I was a baby and toddler.

When I found them, I noticed that most of the pictures had something in common.
It made me angry.
It made me scared.
It made me sick.

Here I am drinking from a baby bottle.
Do you notice anything else?

How about in this next picture?
A cozy family shot, with me sitting in my mother's lap.

Let me zoom in a little closer...

Here's another one.  

Notice the baby on the right.

If you haven't figured it out yet, here is a picture of my father.

I'll never understand how they could possibly think it was ok.

 

But in all fairness, I did a little research.

I was born in 1959.

In 1950, more than half of the people in the U.S. were smokers.
In 1950, a major study found a link between smoking and lung cancer.

I found this quote in a website documenting the history of cigarette smoking.


"Is the new evidence against the cigarette really valid, really conclusive?
Has tobacco been found guilty of endangering health and even lives?
Or have many of us been scared, unnecessarily scared, by sensationalized stories about limited, inconclusive and controversial research? 

Fortunately, for those of us who love to smoke, the latter seems to be the case. Some scientists have, tentatively, indicted tobacco. But a tremendous gap exists between such tentative indictment and a full-scale conviction shared by all scientists. This doesn’t mean that you ought to sit back and laugh if your doctor suggests that you cut down on smoking. Tobacco—like fat foods, lean foods, exercise, lack of exercise, too much sunshine, too little sunshine, and a host of other factors—may be undesirable from a health standpoint for some individuals in certain circumstances. On the other hand, if you have nothing much wrong with you, tobacco—despite all the scare stories—probably is the one indulgence least likely to send you reeling toward the hospital or the grave. . . ."

In another study published my the American Medical Association, doctors at Columbia found

"when they take their heart patients abruptly off their tobacco ration, mild depressions often ensue. 

They find that among their neurotic and nervous patients, the denial of cigarettes often produces outbreaks of other, and far less desirable, nervous habits. Such people unable to channel their energies into puffing, become face-pickers, foot-tappers, icebox raiders.

Even the appetite-depressing effect of cigarettes, which seems to be scientifically well established, is now being recognized as not by any means always an evil. The smoker who starves himself into malnutrition is an extremely rare, if not a totally nonexistent, phenomenon. But the man who smokes to stifle a tendency toward overeating is familiar to most doctors."

And it took another 36 years after that to recognize that second-hand smoke was harmful.

I know my parents smoked around us when we were young, when we were teen-agers, when we were adults.  Unless we were in the car, we were able to get away from it somewhat.  We didn't like the smell.  We were afraid for THEIR health.

But for some reason, I believed they had the sense not to smoke around their babies!

As I'm sitting here writing this, I can smell cigarette smoke in my nostrils.
As I look at these pictures, I want to pull the cigarettes out of their hands.
Not around your precious babies, Mom!
You're smarter than that, Dad!

I'm trying to understand them.
I just can't.

I am soooo thankful to live in a world where my right to breath clean air is now protected.
And I'm thankful that my children have never been exposed to cigarette smoke.

Scanning the Past

I've spent much of this week in the past.

I've watched my mother grow into a beautiful young woman.
I've acquainted myself with family members long gone.
I've reacquainted myself with uncles and aunts.
I've witnessed the beginnings of my parent's love.
And so much more.

I'm finally tackling a job I've been meaning to do ever since I took home a huge rubbermaid bin full of family photos and memorabilia  from my parent's house after they passed away.

I bought a good photo scanner to make matters easier.
For the past two days I've been scanning old photos
                  to digitalise them.

I THOUGHT I was going to pick the best of the best
to minimize the work.
But no.

I find it hard to leave anything out.  I'm doing it all!
And not only scanning, but restoring them as much as possible to their original state.

It's amazing what Photoshop can do!

And I'm having fun taking away all of those distracting specks of dust that were on the film, the creases and tears across the faces of my loved ones, and restoring vibrance  to the photos.

This photo of my mother's Uncle Harry was not in good shape.

 But now he's good as new!

 I made some photos brighter...

And made other photos darker.

I also couldn't help but note family resemblances...

The little girl in the photo (above) is my mother.
My niece (left below) looks sooo much like her with her smile and dimples!

 Just as my sister (right above) looks amazingly like my mother in the picture below!

 And then there's me...

I can't help but see my dad  (on the bike) in me (below). 

But when I look at this picture of my mom (below), 

I think I look very much like she did at about the same age!

 

So, I will keep plugging along until I'm done.
I'll talk to my relatives and try to identify those
             who are unknown to me.
Then I will attempt to put together the story of my family.

And pass it along to my children and future grandchildren.
Maybe one of them will recognize my face in their own one day!
Hopefully one of them will carry on
      and continue writing the story!

Green Beans and Life

As a parent,  you watch your children grow.
They go through "phases" that come and go.
They learn about life.
They change.
They become.

Sometimes, though,  there is a certain quality
that is so much a part of their being
that you see it appear again and again in their lives.

Yesterday, I was reminded of this with Adam.

From the time he was a little boy,
Adam has had a gentle, caring spirit.

When playing with his sisters,
there was rarely a fight because
he tried to make his sisters happy.

If there was an insect in the house,
he would capture it and take it outside
to continue its life.

He was happy to forgo birthday gifts
to donate to the local soup kitchen.

Another priceless example of his kindness
even extended to his vegetable garden when
he was 13.

He picked his first two green beans and named them Steve and Sherry.

But he hated the idea of cutting them and putting
them in boiling water.  So Kerry helped him out!

In college, it makes him happy to volunteer at a food pantry in Middlebury.

And at the end of last semester he brought in pastries and coffee for a breakfast in his dorm for the students to meet the custodial staff and let them know they are appreciated.

Currently, he is studying abroad in Rome.

He tries to write a little bit each day about his experiences in an online blog

asawamura.tumblr.com

It was yesterday's post that reminded me once again of his kindness.
It reminded me of the depth of his caring.
It made me proud.

Here it is:

8th Mar 2012

Last night, I walk by the train station on my way home. (Confession: I’m not here intentionally. I’m lost and looking for a bus stop). Across the street, I see heaps of blankets piled on the sidewalk under the eaves of the station. I quickly realize that under these blankets are people, huddled together for warmth.
I’ve been told that the senzatetto (homeless) come here at night to sleep, but the sight of it elicits in me a visceral reaction, as if I’d just been punched in the gut by some cruel invisible fist. The image sears itself painfully into my memory.
Today, I’m out walking (this time, I’m not lost) and am amused by the three young kids strolling ahead of me — perhaps seven years old. They seem to be alone, maybe walking home from school, chatting, giggling, and enjoying the sunny afternoon.
They proceed past an elderly woman, begging for money. After continuing a short distance, I see them collectively hesitate, then pause in unison. Wordlessly glancing at each other, they reach into their pockets. Several moments of fumbling around for change, and one of kids manages to find a coin. Together they turn around and gingerly drop it into the feeble old woman’s cup. I’m grateful to be privy to this scene. It etches itself redemptively into my memory.

"There is nothing so strong as gentleness,

and there is nothing so gentle as real strength."

                ~Sir Francis de Sates

29:59

Have you seen a poster or Facebook status lately that looks like this:

KONY 2012

At first, I just assumed it was another political candidate
that I've never heard of.

But after reading a few angry Facebook statuses,
I was intrigued to investigate further.

After I did, I felt I should do my part to spread the word.

The following film is 29 minutes and 59 seconds long.

When I saw this, I never thought I would watch the whole thing.

I didn't have the time.

I intended to watch just enough to find out what it was all about.

I watched all 29 minutes and 59 seconds of it.

When Vance came home today, I wanted him to watch it too.

He was in a hurry - had work to do.

He agreed to watch a couple of minutes with me.

Before I knew it, he had pulled up a chair.

He watched all 29 minutes and 59 seconds too.

So did Kerry.

It is extremely well done.
It is extremely informative.
It is extremely interesting.
It is remarkable.
It is extremely important.


KONY 2012 from INVISIBLE CHILDREN on Vimeo.



How long did you watch? 

Going WEST to EASTman

Annie and I left on a road trip on Sunday 
for her first college visit.

 We headed about 5 hours to the West.  The sunny day turned to snow as we neared our destination.

 Rochester, New York.

Rochester is home to ...

We walked into the main building, home to the Eastman Theater and Kodak Hall.  The Rochester Philharmonic Youth Orchestra was midway through a concert.  As visitors to the school, we were let inside to listen to an amazing concert and see the amazing concert hall!

 

Everything about the school was grand.  

Everyone we met couldn't have been friendlier, from the students, to the faculty, to the custodial staff.

They went out of their way to be helpful.

There was a newer section of the school with state of the art recital halls and

a bright modern feel.

The 3 story library had stacks and stacks of books devoted to one topic - music.

It was really cold, so we decided to drive around the city to see what it had to offer besides Eastman.
There was a nice skating rink and warming hut in Manhattan Square Park.

The rink was next to the Museum of Play. 

 This picture demonstrates why it's so important to look at the surroundings whenever you take a picture!

We felt that perhaps Rochester was not at its finest on a dreary
winter day. We could only imagine how it would be in other
seasons.  A small campus in the middle of a city is so different
than Adam and Kerry's experiences in Vermont.

But there is no doubt Eastman would provide a top-notch
music education.

So we will continue to visit more music schools and use our experience at Eastman as a basis of comparison with the others.

With our first college visit under our belts,
we headed to Ithaca, NY to tour Ithaca College
and see what it has to offer.

No Ifs, Ands, or Butts

I know it's not right to BUTT into other people's lives.
I can't understand why they do the things they do.
I don't know their situation.
I do know there must be a better way to deal with it.
Butt then again, they do too!
Everyone does nowadays.

I had my furnace cleaned and serviced yesterday.
As I ushered the nice young man to the basement
where the furnace is located, it was VERY evident.
He is a smoker.
As we chatted for a few minutes, it took almost all of
my willpower not to say something to him.

As I am waiting at a traffic light
and glance to the driver in the car next to me
and see a young girl with her window
cracked open so she can blow the smoke outside,
I want to get out of the car and shake her.
But I don't.

When I go to a doctor's appointment near the hospital
and I see nurses and doctors standing outside smoking,
I want to get out of the car and ask them why.
I feel angry inside, but I drive by.

I'm not angry at them.
I know they would rather not be smoking.
They are nice people.
They are smart people.
They are caring people.
I'm not judging them.

They can't stop.

It's just that the sight or smell of cigarettes immediately
bring me to places I don't like to be:

-  Where I am a little girl riding in a car with my
    turtleneck pulled over my nose, trying not to
    gag on my parents' cigarette smoke.

-  Where I tell my parents the only thing I want for
    my birthday is for them to quit smoking.

-  Where Mom repeatedly tries to quit smoking
    but is never successful.

-  Where I get a call from my father telling me
    Mom went to the hospital last night because
    she couldn't get her breath.

-  When Mom in NOW able to quit smoking.
    And so is my Dad.  A little too late.

-  When Mom can't go anywhere without her oxygen.

-   When Mom dies from throat cancer at the young
    age of 78.

-   When Dad has a stroke and dies less than 2 years later.

-   When I would really like to share something with my Mom
     and Dad and I remember they're gone.


When I see these young, healthy people smoking,
I want to ask them:

If, in the next moment, you couldn't take another breath
without an oxygen tube attached to your face,
would you be able to quit?

If so, why not just do it now?
No ifs, ands, or butts.

Your kids and future grand-kids would thank you for it.