One Picture, One Post

I've decided i can talk about just one picture per post, and this is the result. This is a picture taken by granny/mom/marion off the back porch of my gramma Morrison's house, in Vermilion, Alberta. A lovely wee hoose, i remember it well. Funny thing, it's easier to guess David's age than my own in this picture. Though the photographer would certainly remember more detail than i. So, in the plainness of listed identities, starting from the left, we have, my Gramma Morrison, Christina Graham nee Wilson Morrison. The best gramma i've ever had. (Sorry, snipped that from dad, always saying, "Min, this is the best supper i've had today"...what a card), my gramma who when babysitting me once dealt with me having stepped, in bare feet, on a nail , in a board, in the backyard. Why it was there, i would think there had been recent carpentry on the houseward post for the clothesline, and i walked into another accident. Prone, even. The nail went through the top of my left foot, dragged the board into the kitchen, granny m. extracted it, disinfected the wound, very little bleeding involved, missed anything vascular, patched it up, and i was good as new. Good old Scottish medicine. Didn't need any shots, to heck with that, i survived. Good old Scottish immunity. I still rely on it today.

Sitting on the porch, hanging on her great gramma, is Melanie Anne Francis Fredette, my oldest niece. It's so interesting, she still has that welcoming, loving face to this very day. She (probably comically) calls me her favourite uncle. That might mean she's a bit like me...kooky.

Then there's my second eldest sister, Judith Anne Naylor, you'll hear more about her some later post, she's a lot of memory to me. Suffice it to say, she saved me from being called 'Russell', at birth. THANK YOU, SISTER JUDY.

And in her lap, her second child, my nephew, David Arthur Joshua Fredette. I request mom/granny to comment regarding Davey boy, she knows most of us better than we know ourselves. I would rather hear her insights regarding Davey than imagining my own.

Next, to the east, is my brother, David Andrew Naylor. (The house faced north, thus the bright sun lighting this picture). The youngest one of our sibling group, with the olive complexion few others had. We used to tell him he was found on the doorstep, and/or, he was indian. Native Canadian. Nice, eh? Poor, poor Davey. Never, ever, ask to be born last. And in the fine tradition of Naylor practicality, he's wearing tan cotton pants that i wore some years before.

The slinky boy is me, looks like the slinky just came out of the box, as you can see, it wasn't my first slinky. But the slinking down the stairs trick was more interesting than the hand to hand spring travel. Here though, i seem rather interested. The shirt? From a matching set, made by mom for me and my dad. The pants? I don't remember them much, but they came from a store. Very stylish early 70's. I still match prints and stripes. I blame it on the slinky.