The Evolution

Just scanned a few more photos because I was having trouble coming up with a topic to write about today. Brain is semi on the fritz. Here is a photo of my mother and her brother, Richard in Nebraska. He already has his own pair of overalls.

Mom to the left, squinting into the sun while tall, older sister Margaret stands by her, also squinting. I imagine that mom's dress is a hand-me-down.

I call this one talking, because it looks like I'm holding forth on something. I started talking early and really have never shut up.

My first nude shot.

This is my cousin Charlie and me--looks like he's still in diapers. I think I'm about 2 or 3 years older than him, though I always felt much, much older. See how I have my hand on his knee, as though prepared to take care of him? Looks like he just finished eating a Swanson's meat pot pie. Those tins were excellent for making mud pies too.

A terrible, terrible, no good, very bad haircut. I remember getting that hair cut, I think. The lady was talking a lot and she accidentally cut my ear. I had to wear dresses for like 6 months so that people didn't keep calling me "boy."

A little waif. This was our last Christmas at Grandma's for a long time.

And a jump in time. This is when my hair was long and I couldn't decide if I should get it cut or not, but I wanted it to kind of look cool, so I would let one side hang down, as if it could be a stand in for like a feathered cut somehow.

Then, in seventh grade (I think?), I finally relented and got my hair cut off into what I hoped was a glamorous, Charlie's Angels type cut; and it worked in so far as I look like Sabrina, the least glam. I also was taking a political stance for part of that year to not use hair spray (ozone layer), so I would spend 35 hours every morning before school curling my hair into craziness, and then by second period gym class, it would be flat again. Not my prettiest moments.