Photo Gallery: Summers Go Round
- A Young Tristan, Suited Up for his Aunt's Wedding
- Tristan gears up in his scooter gear
- Tristan David on the Stella
- A lone tree in a field on the farm Nathan grew up in
- My family's graveyard, some very old headstones...
- Two of the newer stones, where lays my uncle and grandparents.
- A grand old stone - this has been our family graveyard for generations
- Lines of wooden crosses and stillborn stones
- Grand old Mustangs and other sportscars at the Wheels n' Wings Festival in Ebensburg
- Some of the motorcycles in town
- Tristan, recently haircutted, flys in an aeroplane
- Olivia traying to catch fish with a handmade rod
- Lake Rowena, Ebensburg, PA
- The firepit behind my dear mums' home (pictured)
- My friend Chad getting the fire stoked
- My sister, Flood and ourselves at the Harris Grill in Pittsburgh, PA
- The girls at the table are wowed and astonished by something barside.
These photos are from the town my mom lives in, Ebensburg PA and Pittsburgh while the three of us couchsurfed away our Junetimes. Some of the cooler ones, if I may say so, are those of the old graveyard. When I was young, we lived on a farm and everyone within a 5 mile radius or so was related to us. It was a very old school, small farm kind of life and no fonder a memory do I have than riding BMX bikes through the dirt paths or making maps of the forests around the farm. While I was young, though, the cemetery was very overgrown and there were only really old gravestones, a handful of actual stones, mostly just wooden crosses mixed in with unmarked stones to indicate the death of a baby. The oldest marked stones dated back to the late 1800s, but no one had been laid to rest there in a few decades. It was this cool / tabboo area that no one really knew if we were allowed into or not, and was incredibly creepy. It’s spooky enough being out in endless fields and forests with stories of black bears and white vans, let alone add mossy old stones in a secret graveyard.
Eventually, my family cleaned it up when Uncle Alvie, who for some reason we all called Uncle Jed, died in a trucking accident. Later my grandparents were added when they passed on, and now it’s been completely resurrected as a well kept, beautiful piece of my ancestry, complete with a little grass path leading down from the old dirt road to Grandma’s.



















olivia
10 Jul 2009 11:26 pm
I loved that little fishing rod you made me. Beautiful memories babe :)