Old Pictures Unearthed During Spring Cleaning

Spring Cleaning Pictures

This post will likely have limited interest to most people, although it will probably be of great interest to members of my family.

If there is one thing that being forced to stay at home for longer than usual gives you, it is time. Time to do things that perhaps you have been meaning to do, but have not quite gotten around to doing just yet. For example, I have been trying - with some small measure of success, to this point, at least - to organize my writings. No, not the ones here, but my other writing projects, particularly the major ones. I figure if there is one positive that can come out of this whole coronavirus thing, it might at least be that it finally forced me to sit down and concentrate a bit more on the one major aspect of my writing, and hopes to becoming a published author someday, that has proven a weakness. Namely, editing, and particularly editing on a regular basis. 

But there are other things that I have been meaning to do, which until very recently - the past few days or so in particular - I just had not gotten around to. One of them is spring cleaning, and although I am not quite done with it yet, I have managed to organize some things more or less in the manner that I had been hoping for. That was a small and personal accomplishment that made me feel good, actually.

Another area where I have enjoyed success is in organizing pictures. These photos that I have added below are ones which I actually found in my old family home in West Milford. I bagged them as I did the cleaning. There are more there, I am quite sure of it. But in the interest of time, they were put in a bag, to be rummaged through and taken care of later, before my next big trip to my parent's still relatively new home in Hornell. 

For some reason, instead of keeping the pictures in that house in West Milford, something - some inner voices, perhaps - told me to bring them over to the apartment in Hillsborough. And this week, I was glad of that, because finally, I found some time to actually go through them.

What was to be found? Some real treasures, actually. Pictures of the family from all different points in our lives. Quite a few featuring both my brother and I. Some featuring one or both of my parents. One or two, in fact, where the entire family is pictured. There were pictures from various trips, which includes two from summer vacations in France back in the 1980's, particularly 1985 and 1987. 

The latter of those trips was one in which my parents also hopped across the Atlantic, and we as a family ventured to the Alps, to a small village known as Embrun. We spent two weeks at my cousin's summer place in that small city, and to date, I think that is the most amount of time that I have ever spent deep within an actual mountain range. We even took day trips to Italy and ventured into Geneva, Switzerland, although we did not spend long in Geneva, because it was too expensive. There were other places that we visited as well, including the beautiful little city of Annecy, which has a beautiful lake with the same name, as well as a medieval castle, a canal (it is known by some evidently as the Venice of France), and just general beauty within it's ancient, cobbled streets. We also visited Briançon, which was one of my favorite places during that trip. Briançon is a small, walled city high up in the Hautes-Alpes department of Provence-Alpes-Côte d'Azur. With an elevation of 1,326 metres (4,350 feet), it is the city with the highest elevation in France, and there is a stark drop that can be seen from atop the walls of the city. Somehow, despite being quite young, this impressed me a great deal.

There are pictures of our old cats. Our first cat was named Catso. Perhaps not the most original name. Yet, she was our original cat, and she was funny. She used to play ball with my brother and I, and we got a kick out of jumping on top of the ball, and then seeing her roll under the ball after pouncing on it. Somehow, the ball never popped.

Then, there were the two twin cats, who were named the Mec (French for "Guy") and the Zuch, or Zouch, or perhaps even Zooch (rhyming with mooch). Not really sure how to spell that name, but the Mec was the boy cat, and the Zuch was his sister. For about the first year or so, the Zuch was the bully, until the Mec realized, somehow, that he was bigger and far stronger and more athletic. From that point on, Mec bullied her relentlessly. Since he himself was bullied by the other neighborhood cats, pretty much anytime he went outside, he really took advantage of the one being in this world that he seemed to have complete dominance over. I still get a kick out of remembering how he tormented her with his bullying, exacting a measure of revenge - and then some! - from that first year of her bullying. She would lie on her back and expose her fat stomach, a classic way that cats show submission. And he would look for a spot to bite her or, failing that, he would jump on her stomach. She was defenseless, and just could do nothing to stop him. And each night, after the last of us went to bed, we would hear the two of them racing, mostly because the Mec would again bully and harass her. She would run away, from the tiny kitchen to our living room, back and forth, trying to get away from him. But he was faster and had far more endurance, and so he kept at it, never allowing her the chance to rest. It felt endless back then, but this torment really must have felt endless to her in particular.

Mec was very athletic. Probably the most athletic cat that I have ever had, and likely by far, at that. I used to make him leap high after a shoelace, and also make him run in circles after that same shoelace. Sometimes, he would be panting afterward, clearly because I did not know when to quit. Apparently, neither did he. 

My third grade class picture from Maple Road School in West Milford. Mrs. Stackpole was my favorite teacher for years. 

My brother and I in Liberty, New York.

Graduation Day, June 27, 1992. 

A picture of my brother and I wearing Camp Brae Bank t-shirts. How old is this? I think it is from the summer of 1984. In any case, Camp Brae Bank (in Kinnelon, New Jersey) no longer exists. 

My brother and I feeding either ducks or geese at Ringwood Manor, New Jersey. We were both wearing these New York Yankees raincoats, which were reversible. On one side, it was yellow, and on the other, it was dark blue. Obviously, we are wearing the two different sides of the matching raincoats. 

My brother's class picture. Not sure which year it would have been, possibly from his junior or senior year? Obviously, he had his long hair already.

My brother and I sitting on the rusty swing set that we used to have in the backyard in West Milford. My guess was that this was taken around the mid-eighties. 

My aunt (the same one who took us in for those summers in France) with perhaps my brother? 

Here is a picture of my mom and my brother, who clearly had very long hair by this point. They used to battle about him cutting his hair all of the time. It still causes me to chuckle just thinking about it. My brother still has almost this same head of hair to this day. 

A baby picture. Was it of my brother, or of me? Cannot be sure. 

My mom's college graduation picture, taken at the University of New York in Albany.

My aunt's (mom's sister) graduation photo, taken, I believe, in Elmira, New York. 

This is a great picture of my mom from sometimes in the eighties. It looks almost like it was professionally done.

A picture of me from sometime in the eighties. That is a Dallas Cowboys jersey that I got from the days when we lived in Lodi. Yes, I had been flirting with being a Cowboys fan at some point, but stuck with the Giants, ultimately. 

 An antique picture of someone on the French side of the family. Do not remember who this is. Anyone? 

A baby picture. Who is it? I cannot say with any degree of certainty. 

The house in West Milford:

Pictures from 1985 Summer Vacation in France:

Kids enjoying swimming in the pool during the summer of 1985. I am just behind my cousin, Nicholas in the above picture, and my brother is kind of cut off. He is pictured more completely in the below picture. The baby's name is Caroline. She has grown since. 

Members of the French family. Guy, Marie-Claude, Nicole, and, I think, the young girl would be Fabienne (although it may be Fredérique, although that would make less sense), if I am not mistaken. This may have been from the summer of 1985, or possibly the summer of 1987. Pretty sure it would have to have been one of those, although maybe, again, my parents and/or my brother might know for sure. Not entirely certain where this picture was taken, for that matter. 

Pictures from the Summer of 1987 (July - August, 1987):

My parents sent my brother and me to France, where my aunt (my father's sister) took us in, during the summers of 1982, 1985, 1987, and 1989. Each one was special in it's own right. In 1982, I was very young (seven years old) and had little memory of having actually lived in France. So everything felt new. I remember how excited I was to see the Eiffel Tower for the first time, even though it was tinged with disappointment because of the nets hanging out of each level (they were painting it). In 1985, other family members took us in, and we stayed in different towns, including Taverny and Leffond (with the aunt I already mentioned), Marly-le-Roi (our family town in France, with our other aunt), Villepreux (our other aunt), and Saint-Pathus (with yet another aunt). We also took a few days trip into Belgium, with a few hours excursion just into the borders of some small town in Netherlands. In 1989, it was the bicentennial of the French Revolution, and we went to Paris during the celebrations. It was very memorable, with some great fireworks, and a very festive atmosphere.

But the trip that I seem to come back to the most and which seemingly I remember most fondly, was the summer of 1987. That was the only one of those summers where my parents met us there, maybe two or three weeks in. We visited the Alps, which was the most amount of time that I would spend in any major mountain range until at least the 2010's, when my son and I took trips out west. We visited some beautiful cities and villages, and even took day trips into Italy (Suza and Turin), as well as an afternoon in Geneva, Switzerland. I was happy to be in Europe, generally, and France specifically. As I recall, it felt like the perfect age, being 12. It was the last summer where I seriously was into collecting toys, and Europe had a virtual treasure trove of toys, many of which would have been virtually impossible to obtain in the States. Yet, despite this fixation on toys, I was also starting to finally be old enough to appreciate some of the beauty and grandeur that Europe offered. That, plus the mixture of the abundance of natural beauty in the Alps, made that summer particularly memorable, and it seems that I remember this trip not just more fondly, but also more often than the other summer trips to France of the eighties. 

In any case, here are some recently unearthed pictures of that summer of 1987:

This was a picture taken somewhere in France, although I am not sure where. Perhaps my parents, or maybe even my brother, might have a better memory of this place?

Le Pont de la Caille connecting Allonzier-la-Caille to Cruseilles in Haute-SavoieCruseilles, France

Another picture of some city in France, but which I could not identify at the time that I published this. However, the most recognizable cars in this picture are the iconic Citroën 2CV's. My very favorite model is the Charleston, and you can get more or less a glimpse of the maroon and black color scheme. Love those cars! If money were no object, I would have one of those as a weekend/leisure car.

Embrun:

The summer before this one, I earned the nickname "Spider-Man" from the kids that I shared a cabin with at summer camp in Frost Valley, New York. That was because I used to climb up and around the beams near the ceiling of the place, with remarkable confidence, and apparently with a sense of invulnerability.  I still had quite a bit of that during the next summer of 1987. Here I am, engaging in one of my favorite activities during that summer, climbing the side of one of the stone supports on the side of the house that we were staying at in Embrun. It almost looks like I am floating, at first glance. In fact, I am delicately balanced on the edge of some stones, with any notion that I could fall and hurt myself really not given much consideration. It almost makes me nervous today, in retrospect, just seeing this image. Yet, I never did get hurt. Obviously, I used to walk around barefoot quite often in those days. Strange kid, eh? This very well may be one of my favorite pictures from my childhood, as it reminds me of that easy frame of mind, and the instinctive, almost unthinking athleticism which seems to be the exclusive domain of childhood.

Annecy

Obviously, this is a picture of a postcard of Annecy. Below are the pictures that my father took, presumably:

Other pictures from the Alps:

I do not know what church this is, with the beautiful stained glass.

I think this might be Lac Annecy, although this might be confirmed by either my parents and/or my brother. 

My brother and I in front of that lake, with me climbing the tree. Loved to climb back in those days!

Lavoir, somewhere in France. Everyone knows that Europe has charming villages and old churches, castles, and cathedrals, as well as some other grandiose sights. Sometimes, however, pictures of smaller things like this (a lavoir, which is kind of an outdoors communal waterhole, where people would get their water and/or wash their clothing) also have considerable charm. Again, though, not entirely sure where this one was located. Maybe Leffond?

Leffond:

The Gaulois were brothers who were friends of the family, and who owned a local restaurant either in or very near Leffond.

My uncle would host these large parties, which were more or less outdoor barbecues, often with fireworks at night. They would roast a pig or lamb, I think. There would be a large campfire. These are some pictures of the one from 1987, which I think was held on or around la fête nationale (often referred to in English as Bastille Day) on July 14th. 

My brother with my cousin, Jean-Louis. He and my uncle both were pilots at a nearby airport in Gray. The triangular structure on the table, I believe, was part of one of those planes, which were known as ULM's. 

Taverny:

A picture of my parents relaxing in my aunt's house in Taverny. 

This is an evening that I remember fairly well. My cousin, Christian, played the guitar well, which made this evening particularly memorable. That is me, presumably looking at Christian. In the background are my father (with the mustache) and my aunt (his sister). 

My brother and I from the summer of 1987. Not sure where this is, but it appears we were riding some kind of touristy train, possibly through some gardens somewhere in France. My brother was already growing out his hair, as it looks long, although it would get a lot longer than that before too long. 

Pictures of Cats From the Past and the Present:

Catso:

My present day cat, who is imaginatively called "Baby," picking up a plastic bag full of recyclables with her teeth, as if it were some kill from a hunt. It was just a funny looking image with her carrying it around, and so I took the picture. These are not old pictures, having been taken on April 16, 2020. But they were cute nevertheless, and so I added them here:

The Mec and the Zuch:

The twin cats eating from the same dish in our kitchen. Remember these floor patters from the seventies and eighties? This picture was blurry, and it did not come out much better with this copy. Still, you get the idea. I think judging by their size, that they were still more or less kittens by this point, although they were probably on the older end of being kittens. 

The Mec. 

Yup, that's a picture of me with the Mec and the Zuch. Probably from the first half of 1987, as this picture was developed in June of 1987.