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| This is my mother's mother, Lulu. The picture was probably taken around 1913, in Denver, Colorado. The story goes that, abouit this time, my grandfather proposed to her. But, she had another fella who was a very good dancer, which my grandfather was not, so she turned him down. His job took him away from town for a short time, and while she thought he was still away, a messenger knocked on the door with a package. Inside was a silver-backed comb and brush set, a Christmas gift from Grampa. Grama, bless her heart, changed her mind. The silver comb and brush set, and the gift tag that was on the package, are still in the family. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| This is my very own self. I was four or five, and we lived in Montana. It's our pre-TV days - you can see our radio/record-player combo - that wonderful purveyor of music, laughter, dreams, and drama - in the background. The item that looks like an ottoman, on the right, is actually the end of our ookey-green sectional (Mom said it looked blue in the store lights - she always hated it, but the cushions made really fine pretend-horses). That dress was light blue taffeta. It was very noisy, but it also made me feel very grown up. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| To my family and friends, to those who touched my heart, mopped my tears, made me laugh, and whose creativity inspired me... | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Custom Sara greeting courtesy of: |
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