.
Here’s the last batch of old family photos I’ll share.
.

.
From right to left – my uncle, my aunt and presumably my father… theintrepid butterfly hunter.
.

.
My great aunt and an unidentified child, perhaps my aunt. From the look of their clothes, I’m guessing they were not ardent PETA supporters.
.

.
These next few shots are of the Henley Regatta.
.

.
Part of the English social season, the annual rowing competition originated in 1839 and takes place on the River Thames.
.

.
It also looks like a good excuse to buy a new hat.
.

.
My uncle and aunt. Because no well dressed toddler should be without a parasol.
.

.
My grandmother, still not smiling… with my aunt and uncle in their garden. Sadly, my uncle was another relative I never met. He was killed in a car accident on Christmas Day at the age of 30.
.

.
My grandfather in the garden.
.

.
And finally, another garden party shot of Wednesday Addams with my father and uncle.
🤣
.
What an archive, kinda wish I had really old family photos. Thanks for sharing.
LikeLiked by 2 people
They’re a lot of fun. Even if you have no idea who half of them are…
😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
Truly
LikeLiked by 1 person
Well, well it seems that you come from very high society stock River, lol. I don’t know anyone whose family participated in an actual regatta, come on now. I’m also thrilled that your related to Wednesday Addams, that’s even cooler Ha!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Aunt Wednesday. Who knew?
🤣
LikeLiked by 1 person
Want your kid to grow up tough? Send him out butterfly hunting and let the bullies do the rest. Glad they got him in some better clothes.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I know proper little English boys didn’t wear long pants until a certain age … but that outfit is bizarre.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I can read your grandmother’s mind, and it’s not pretty. It goes something like “Tell me to smile one more motherfuckin’ time” (In best Samuel L. Jackson voice). Notice that her left hand is concealed behind your Aunt’s back.
Man, your folks got started late. My dad was born in1938, and his dad in 1915. I was born in 1961, so 23 years between generations. It’s not unheard of, I guess. My best friend in Scotland’s dad was pushing a hundred when he passed away, sometime in my early forties.
LikeLiked by 1 person
My family tree, what we know of it, does not believe in 20 year generations. I was born in 1949. My parents were born in 1907 and 1908. Their parents, the ones we know, were born in the 1850s and 1860s. Seems neither side of the family ever rushed into having children. Of the 10 kids in our family, four of us never had children. My siblings with kids mostly had then in their 30s. Is there a gene against having children early, or not at all?
LikeLike
When it comes to things like this, one person’s vision of the right way to have kids is as good as anyone else’s as far as I’m concerned. I have four siblings and you better not be late for dinner. All four of them, sisters, have kids but we don’t. I don’t think it’s genetic, more of a lifestyle choice. I’ll bet suppertime at Rawgod ranch was a real laugh riot.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hmmmm. The “ranch” was a 4 bedroom house on a nondescript house on a nondescript street on the wrong side of the tracks. The ONLY humour allowed at the suppertable was what was prescribed as humour by the sperm donor. Words were not spoken unless directed to speak. No one left the table till all the food was gone. My mother never had enough food to cook to fill every belly, so the one belly that was always filled was that of the sperm donor. The rest of us ate what was able to be reached, annd no plate was not clean before the meal was over. Being the 9th of 10, my arms did ot reach much. I learned to live with a half-empty stomach.
Sorry if I sound like I am trying to pull at heartstrings, I am not. This was the fact of our lives.
We had our good times, but they were mostly when the sperm donor was not around. What made him happy was making our lives miserable. I do not know why.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I really wasn’t all that serious about this. I refer to my home as a hacienda, though it’s far from that, nice as it is. I said ranch because I thought I read once that you grew up on a farm. My father wanted quiet at the table as well, unless he had a question for one of us, almost never good. He was in the Navy, so he had the duty every four days and we would let it all hang out. I didn’t think you were engaging in competitive hardship. I’ve got it better than anyone I know and I know it, so I lose. I hope you feel the same way about your own life.
LikeLike
Wasn’t competing, just stating facts. I was reacting to the laugh riot. It just hit a nerve today. Other days I wouldn’t have reacted at all. So sorry if you thought I was out of line. I just don’t hold those things in anymore. Doing that caused a lot of unnecessary medical problems in my life.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Out of line? not at all. Sorry for pushing the button. Sometimes my sarcasm is a bit hard to detect, a thing you are probably familiar with. I have also passed the point where I can allow someone to abuse me and walk away. So all good, friend.
LikeLike
Wasn’t abuse either. I Kknew you were trying to e funny. It just turned into a lead zeppelin.
LikeLike
Oh, the humanity!
LikeLike
My husband is one of nine. I’m an only child.
My mother was an only child. Her mother was one of ten.
🤷♀️
LikeLike
Cathy’s an only child, too, as are both her parents. Christmas 1986, our first together, was like a gift- wrapped avalanche.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nothing wrong with that!
LikeLike
My father was 53 when I was born. His father was 42 when he was born. But I seriously doubt the word motherfuckin’ ever crossed grandmas lips. Or mind.
🤣
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m sure it didn’t, but it’s a funny little cartoon to roll around in your mind.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The garden party is a delight. To see, maybe not to attend?
LikeLiked by 1 person
All the attendees are dead, so I guess we’ll never know.
LikeLiked by 1 person
She DOES look like Wednesday!! 😂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I know. It’s a bit freaky.
🥴
LikeLiked by 1 person
Geez, she does look like Wednesday! My immediate family member numbers are small, but when you start to include all the aunts and uncles, there are a whole lot of people involved – big families like your husband’s. I will admit to being curious about the ancestors and who came before me, but I haven’t traveled down that road…yet.
LikeLiked by 1 person
A friend introduced me to genealogy a few years back, it’s fascinating and quite addicting. Once you go down the ancestor rabbit hole there’s no coming back. I traced my father’s line back to the 1100’s!
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s awesome!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wednesday Addams!! LOL
The hats. The dresses. The fur. They must have been hot most of the time, hence the parasols to try to block the sun.
So sad that your Uncle passed away so young.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Clearly there was no such thing as casual Friday back then.
😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love how grumpy everyone looks in old photos.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s bizarre. Surely they had something to smile about once in a while….
LikeLiked by 1 person
Of course, nowadays, people smile for photos even when they’re miserable inside (can’t look sad on Instagram, can we?).
LikeLiked by 1 person
I blog and am on Facebook to keep in touch with old friends. Insta seems the ultimate in narcissism, I can’t do it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nor can I. When I see some young self-absorbed woman in a ball gown at a scenic spot in Death Valley (which I did) having a guy take ridiculous pictures of her, she gets nothing but feelings of derision from me.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Social media has turned this generation inward. It’s all about me, me, me…. and how I fabulous I look in a ball gown in the middle of a desert.
🥴
LikeLiked by 1 person