I was on a date last night with a very nice man when he asked about my dad. Switzerland came up in passing and my date wondered about the connection. I told him about how Dad was raised there then came back to the States. How Billy stayed in Switzerland. I told him who in my family was still in Switzerland, about cape cod, and about how Billy died two Februarys ago. We moved on to another topic but I felt distracted.
“You’re still thinking about your uncle” he observed thoughtfully.
I was. I am. I do.
I have had a very long, nice weekend which essentially started on Wednesday. I have been “putzing” around my house, tidying and doing, emailing, and watching stupid TV. Joined a lovely Thanksgiving at my brothers’ which I contributed to with two pies, went to the movies Saturday with Amanda (Wicked 2, For Good), got a painful but necessary deep tissue massage Saturday morning, had my nice date that night. Picked up leaves.
You know, the usual stuff.
The other day, my brain ran away from me and I stumbled on a treasure. It was one of those scenarios that have become familiar to me;. It goes something like this;
I am cross stitching and need different colored thread. So I go upstairs to the cabinet where the thread is stored, notice a sweatshirt on a pile that I will be dumping into a textile collection bin, then remember a sweatshirt that I ordered online. Wondering when it will arrive I head to my computer to check on its delivery status. Thread forgotten or maybe stuffed in a pocket to be remembered later.
I notice the incredible coating of dust on my desk and decide that cleaning now is as good a time as any. I start putting things away then go get a dust rag to clear the dust, sneezing as I go.
While tidying I see a short stack of photos on my desk and pick them up. Will I give these away, or find the bravery to recycle them because no one really wants prints anymore? I think of another project I am working on for my parents’ house and remember that there are specific photos that I want to find for that project. Do I still have them? I have not come across those since I started digitizing all the photos in my albums in an effort to clear out my shelves.
I go to my closet where I know there may be one more box of photos. I did a serious editing of the collection years ago and there is less to cull through now. I find more envelopes than I expected to, many dated, and I started flipping through.
Photos from the last 1990s.
When I wrote an entry following Billy’s passing (see, I did eventually circle back to my point!), it included “In the mid-1990s, he worked with me to take a carefully composed still-life photo at Scott’s End. In it was a hat, mirror reflection, window light, flowers. Unfortunately, I cannot find the photo which resulted, but I do remember it was shot on black and white film.”
It was a lesson in depth of field, I remember. The challenge being to get botht eh hat and the flowers in focus despite their differing planes.
As I flipped through those 1990s snapshots, a stroke of luck. An image I thought was lost for good was not in my hand. Two prints of it in fact! On the back it reads “4×5 still life” and POLOROID. It must have been taken with Billy camera. A 4×5 camera.
BEAN'S BABBLETORIUM 