Sybal's Front Door

The Burden of Old Photos

For years the question of old photos has weighed down my mind. I have toted a box of loose photos with me from place to place for decades. “To keep or to pitch, that has been the question.” Looking at pictures of those who once were and now are no longer creates a strange and unnameable feeling: is it nostalgia?

At any rate, the photos have taken up space in my closets for decades. It’s been on again and off again about what to do with them. Finally I have decided to store them with Amazon Pictures “in the cloud.” For a while I will be inflicting photos on readers of the Front Door. So take pour yourself a stiff drink, or take two aspirin and take a nap because the photos are here.

The Janssen Sons and Daughters of Lorraine Kansas

The above photo is of my father and his brothers. Although they are not in the photo, two girls “bookended” the boys. Belinda (who later used the name Eleanor) was the first child; Evelyn was the last. She was the unexpected afterthought and grew up as an only child with six siblings.

My grandmother was well educated for a farmer’s daughter from Kansas. She was an avid reader and something of a romantic because she named her sons after famous writers of the day. My father Wallace was named after Lew Wallace of Ben Hur fame. Gordon was named after the poet George Gordon, Lord Byron. Paul was named after the prolific writer of Gospels. Leigh was named after the poet and essayist, Leigh Hunt, and Homer, of course, was named for the poet of the Illiad and Odyssey.

For whom (or for what) the daughters were named is mere speculation. Belinda was the central figure in Alexander Pope’s satirical narrative poem “The Rape of the Lock.” Belinda is also the gentle and kind protagonist of the novel “Belinda” written by Maria Edgeworth. On the other hand, Belinda is also a kind-hearted sow who speaks pig Latin. As she is a Disney character she is far too young to have been my aunt’s namesake.

You have been introduced to one side of the family. For now I am out of photos. Excuse me while I scan some more on the world’s slowest scanner.

Three-Digit Fahrenheit

Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday going outside as the sun goes down in order to water the frazzled plants. Once upon a time, if you lived in the Bay Area, there was no central air in in the houses. After all, Mark Twain said, ” the coldest winter I ever spent was summer in San Francisco.”

The “City by the Bay” is grousing about the heat, as are the denizens of the in land counties of Napa, Sonoma, and Mendicino. The Sonoma vineyards are in whatever stage of life that requires men and women to be working among the vines. All the workers wear hats with big brims to cover their neck and tie water soaked kerchiefs around their necks.

Summer of the Sad Tomatoes

My tomato crop is sad this year; the plants were puny. The Early Girls are the size of cherry tomatoes, instead of normal tomato size good for making bacon and tomato sandwiches. The cherry tomatoes are sized right but lack flavor. The grape tomatoes are growing all their fruit on a single stem. Conversations with my sister, who is a master grower of tomatoes, diagnosed insufficient fertilizer, and lack of water. I watered faithfully, but just realized it was just draining away to water the guest parking spaces instead of staying in the soil to nourish the roots. On the other hand, the basil is thriving. Time to try my hand at pesto sauce.

Game Day Sunday

Had a lot of fun playing that grand old classic: Clue. Professor Plum, did it in the hall with a wrench!