The Women Before Me

Left to Right: Margaret Ann Lambing (baby), Dorothy Margaret Fife, Elizabeth Fife, Mrs. Bonnekamp at Leasburg MO, 1942

Recently, my mom loaned me a photograph of four generations of women who came before me.  I look at the firm lines of their mouths and I can see the grit in their craw.  People only crossed these women at their own expense.  Truly.

Mrs. Bonnekamp came to Leasburg MO with money in her pocket and a general store which she ran in this whistle stop of a town.  Her daughter, Elizabeth, married a tall Scotsman named Fred Fife and the two of them ran the local tavern.  Elizabeth and Fred Fife had five childern, but only one was a girl, my grandmother.  Dorothy Margaret Fife was spoiled by her father, brothers, and grandmother.  However, Margaret and her mother would often fight, which always ended with Margaret hiding under the bed and Elizabeth poking her with a broom to get her out.

Margaret's own daughter, Margaret Ann, is my mother.  I knew only my grandmother and mother, but I like to think I must have something in me from my ancestors.  Maybe I got a love of shopping from Mrs. Bonnekamp whose first name I don't know.  And I am sure I got my friendliness from Elizabeth.  I have been told she loved the constant stream of people into her tavern and that she never met a stranger.

Today as I say happy mother's day to all the mom's in the world, I also say thank you.  Thank you to the women from which I am descended.  Thank you for giving me the genes which have come down in my DNA to help make me who I am.  And thank you for teaching me to not frown so sternly in photographs.  Those faces are so rigid, I have to wonder if their gridles were killing them.

From the Burbs to the Sticks!

After a weekend in the Burbs I had to out do myself by going to the country. Leasburg MO to be exact. My family had a birthday/graduation party at my cousin Jean's country estate. Okay, it was a house on a largish pond.

I love this photo of supposed bucolic bliss, the recliner on the banks of the pond. What you can't see is less than 50 feet away is a sewer pipe from the house. It isn't the septic tank, just the dishwater and such, but still it was fragrant. The kids fished on the dock right next to the drainage. But we can pretend my cousin spends her leisure hours reclined in this chair smelling only clean country air scented with roses. Okay these roses are in the front yard, but since I am spinning a yarn of rustic bliss, I might as well use the photo.

My family was out in in force and we all had fun visiting and eating. If a vote was taken I would say the eating part would win. The mosquitoes did their share of eating too. My arm has a few itchy spots.I am including a photograph of my cousin who is getting ready to go to college at Purdue. He is the young man talking sitting next to his grandmother. Not the best shot of him, but worthy enough to put on my blog so my co-work Cherry, who is also off to Purdue in the fall can get a gander at him. I want her to get an idea what boy looks like. I want the two of them to be best friends at Purdue and this way I can show him off to her at work.

Anyway, the country was actually better than New Town, at least here I wasn't worried they would try to re-make into some stepford version of myself.

And there were lots of dogs running around. My brother's dog, Pecker, kept peeing on people's bags. It was kind of cute to hear my little niece calling to the dog, Pe-cha. I also loved that my brother showed up in his 1950s, green dump truck. He assured me it gets 15 miles to the gallon which is actually a little better than a hummer. I meant to snap some shots of the dump truck, but just didn't get to it. So instead you will have to settle for photos of Pecker.