Memorial Day, part III

At the parade today, we heard the poem “In Flanders Fields”, which got me thinking.  I started looking through papers and found this picture.  My great-uncle Werner died at age 27 on the Western Front (St. Quentin), March 20, 1918.  He’s on the right in the photo.  On the left is Aunt Trudy and in the middle is my grandfather Siegfried.  The band on his hat says, “Unterseeboots Flotille Flandern” (Flanders Submarine Flotilla).  And there we are back at Flanders (but on the other side).

Below is the family a few years before, in 1909, a year before the oldest daughter, Irene (seated) died at age 17.  So you can only imagine that with the photo above, my great-grandparents wanted a photo preserving their remaining children, two of which were in the war and only one of which survived.

A Bad Case of Stripes

I had to capture this lunch — Leo and his cousins all came down with a very bad case of the stripes .

And later, Sophie and I got to go to a book reading together at the Brookline Booksmith.  Piper Kerman was reading from “Orange is the New Black”, about her year in a women’s prison.  She grew up in Brookline  and lots of friends and family were there.

My favorite quote of the night:

“There’s nothing like reading your prison memoir in front of your A.P. English teacher.”

Springtime in Georgetown

Sophie doing her best impression of Toad from “Wind in the Willows”:  “POOP POOP!   FAT FACE!”

Leo thinks she’s pretty funny

Rainy day — cousins building an old solar powered K’nex set that I found at a garage sale.

Donncha Charles helping in the garden.  Soon we won’t remember him being this small.  I just know it.

Small boy.  Big trees.  I think it’s time for another People’s Choice Award — see this old post about Finn.