Daisy and Cloyd

Technically this is a Flashback Tuesday post, but I thought I'd disguise it today.  I've been slightly obsessed with ancestry.com for the past few weeks.   Late last month, I finally gave in and registered for full access to the site.  It's been totally and completely worth it.  I've LOVED getting lost in memories of my relatives.  Last week, I found a census record showing all of my grandmother's nine brothers and sisters. 

amazing, huh?

And then today, I happened to be digging through some boxes and found the mother lode of pictures.  Honestly, I have no idea how there could have been this many pictures in my house that I didn't even know existed.  And nearly all of them have names and dates written on the back!  (also amazing!)

That's my grandmother in the center and 6 of her brothers and sisters.

My grandmother was the youngest, so I didn't get to meet many of her older siblings, but I knew her sister, Gladys, and her brother, Cloyd.  

Uncle Cloyd and his wife, Daisy

Aunt Daisy and my dad

Uncle Cloyd and Aunt Daisy were my favorite.  And I think they must have been my dad's favorite, too, because we visited them a lot.  They lived fairly close to us when we lived in California, so we went there often.  They had a fairly modest home, but the backyard was huge.  It was long and skinny, and Uncle Cloyd had it completely filled with the tidiest, straightest, weedless, raised planter boxes full of vegetables and flowers.  They were high enough off the ground that he didn't even have to bend over to weed or harvest, and there were perfect gravel pathways separating each one.  At the end of the long rows, there was a HUGE greenhouse/garage where he kept his yard tools and starter plants.  I loved looking at all those baby plants, and admiring the meticulous way he took care of them.  I wish I had found a picture of that backyard because it was his pride and joy.  Everytime we came over, he would take us out to look at the vegetables.  I snacked on peas and tomatoes back there, and we always came home with a bag full of something.   

Aunt Daisy was delightful too.  She always wore dresses and a little strand of pearls.  Her hair was white and curly, like a little fluff of cotton on her head. And she wore cute little horn rimmed glasses.  Her bedroom housed all kinds of treasures and when my dad and Cloyd were distracted, she would sneak me back there and give me some beautiful little trinket to take home with me... jewelry or a little jar of lotion, or my favorite...a paper doll book!  (Oh man, I can remember with vivid clarity cutting out those little tabs...this was BEFORE perforated kind...and carefully folding them so that they would fit just perfectly on the doll.  Please tell me you know what paper dolls are...)  

My dad adored Daisy and Cloyd and therefore, I did, too.  I haven't thought about them in years, but all of a sudden, after seeing Cloyd's name on that census, I've had floods of memories come back.  Little reminders of them have been everywhere lately, and I have loved going back to such a happy place in my head.  I am so grateful for the family I grew up with and all the things they did to make my childhood so amazing.