The Carolina Cherry Blossom 1959

I found this picture in my journal box. Behind is my Ninny, to my right is my Aunt Gay, the beauty of the family and 18 at the time. To my left is my aunt Kathy, incredibly, 14, the only redhead in the family, and possessor of multiple graduate degrees. I’m the short one. My mother took the picture. It was Mother’s Day and she had been given one of those nifty Polaroid cameras, where you peeled off a strip of exposed film and stroked developer across the print. Really cool. Mama is always up on technology. I guess I got that from her.  Oddly, I look more like my aunt Gay than my mother.  About 20 feet to my left, was the cherry tree my father planted at my birth and the one from which he fashioned my “Journal without words” when I graduated from college.

In the coming of fall, I thought of that warm sunny day, “A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…”

mothers day

3 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Bernice
    Sep 21, 2013 @ 13:54:42

    What a great picture and memories. 🙂


  2. David Emeron
    Sep 30, 2013 @ 23:56:58

    Adorable!! What a hellion you must have been! Did I say that? I meant “sweet thing.” Truly, you look like a little doll! And according to what I have gleaned from other writing of yours, you have not grown much taller. little Wren?

    I have a picture of my sweetheart with a similar dress and shoes. Similar, but from a different era. I suppose a proper gentleman should not say which. And it was one of the few times she had bangs like that as well!! Her hair was longer. And she was not winking. And her socks were some kind of cable knit leggings–it’s cold in England.
    Please do not be shy to post links when you can. People often feel it to be shameless promotion; but really it is just courteous I think. That is why I try to do so. Although wordpress seems to have monkeyed with my ability to search my old comments–those made on other sites–or changed the interface in such a way as to confound the infirm and easily confused, of which it seems I am now a member. This is why I had to paraphrase the discussion of formed vs. formless poetry that I had with the young middleschooler in New Zealand.

    Amazing! I do love photographs for their ability to stop time. My sweetheart forbids me to post the same of her. Perhaps she can be convinced at some point. I am ever hopeful. She is quite difficult to photograph, so few have managed to do an effective job of it. I am very lucky to have a few such gems sitting on my desk.


    • kanzensakura
      Oct 01, 2013 @ 19:29:24

      Hellion is correct. I was adorable, but I was…..a hellion. My poor aunt Gay every weekend would struggle with her crinolines 9and they were lovely ones) to starch, hang on the line to dry, and then iron. She had gone off to her part-time job on Saturday. I was wandering in the backyard and my whole being became entranced with THE many layered crinolines – pale yellow with pastel rosebuds and ribbons. I plucked the crinoline from the line and stepped into them, pulling them up to my neck. Oh glory I was beautiful. I danced and pranced around the house and then of course, began to climb trees in it. she came home and stepped off the bus to find me plié=ing across the front yard. Oh my. with lightning in her eyes, she ran across the yard. I picked up my skirts and ran in the opposite direction. She chased me twice around the house with the family assuming neutrality. I finally shinnied up a tree where she could not get to me and then dropped the crinoline, basically on her head. and of course, she was going to wear those very crinolines on her big date with her boyfriend: Zipper Legs = he of the extremely tight peg legs pants, DA, and owner of a Corvette convertible. She did forgive me though. For Christmas, she gave me a beautiful set of crinolines for my own.


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