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My brother and I enjoy a day on the green with the hollyhocks in our Larkspur, California yard. He's about 12, me about 3. Later, we may have played in the pretend city we built, which he precociously named Le Petit Orléans. All I remember about it are the roads and the telephone lines we made with string and wooden mock chicken leg skewers from Mother's kitchen. Much later, the area in the upper right was the locale of my model church. I also note that the gizmo between me and the hollyhocks appears to share DNA with the other gizmo I'm holding in this shot. My father had an adventure each summer trying to find the pipe in the lawn that held the umbrella (also green, for all you colorizers). I still have the diagram he made, triangulating from trees on the slope, but it never seemed to help much. If I ever write my autobiography, this will illustrate the chapter "You Never Had It So Good." My sister took the photo. View full size.
Sure look like homemade things, and from the same hands. My father's workshop projects were mostly from the late-50s onward and were almost always yard- and garden-oriented, so I'm going with my sister's theory that they're creations of my godmother's husband. Also, a close-up.
You have no idea how much I envy you and your brother, to have grown in California, in the '50s. I have always been drawn to the '50s era; I'm even restoring a '58 Plymouth.
For me, the late '50s in California must have been quite close to heaven: the era, the cars, the music, the beaches, the girls.
You had it good !!!
This is too wonderful for words. It truly sums up the idyllic '50s (at least, as per my in-laws). Thanks, TTerrace, for another thing of beauty!
as, we have come to finding heaven on earth. With the possible exception of Mill Valley. Then.
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