Oh my....the snow, the snow. We're supposed to get up to a foot, and although I'm usually skeptical about such predictions, this time I think I believe it.
Three other notable photos (taken neither by Catherine nor by me):
This picture just cracks me up. On the back, Catherine has written "Catherine goes nuts! May 1987." She's freaking out over getting her M.A. thesis done, and well she should freak out, because it was about three times as long as mine, so it must have taken her forever. Notice the article in the foreground and the calendar on the wall--both Thomas Moran.
For some reason, this photo of me and my roommate Mary in Pavlosk was in the same box as Catherine's photos. This is the first summer I was in Russia (it was still the Soviet Union back then). The notable thing about this photo, though, isn't the location, but rather the absolute lack of flesh on my bones. I'm twenty years old, weigh probably 118, and feel fatter than I had ever felt in my life.
I only went to Leningrad that summer because I was kicked off a paleontology team for being too fat. I had spent the spring raising money and volunteering as part of a student group that was going to spend the summer in Montana on a dinosaur dig. I had taken the classes, earned my money, done my time, and was ready to go. But the professor in charge thought I couldn't hack it, I wasn't in good enough shape. I pointed out to him that I was on UW's Tae Kwon Do (competitive) team, and that I cycled 20 miles a day, more on weekends, but he said he would only let me go if I could prove my dedication by losing 10 pounds.
Well, I tried, and I failed. And looking at this picture, I think, "No freaking wonder I couldn't lose any weight. Where would I have lost it from?" Stepan used to just berate me about my efforts to lose weight, and now I see why.
(An interesting side note: this prof. was the first person who ever mistook me for a boy. I turned in some papers to him before class one day, and during class, he asked if the young man who had given him the papers would come back and see him because he had neglected to write down his name. Yeah, that was me, that young man.)
The ironic thing is: I probably lost the ten pounds while I was in Russia. This picture was taken shortly before I became deathly--and I mean deathly--ill with bronchitis. I probably lost a lot more than ten pounds by the time I was over it, and I didn't have that kind of weight to lose. But when I got home, everyone thought I looked great. Freaks!
And finally, this photo was in the same box. Here I am with my brother at Long Bay in Skagway, Alaska. It's 1976, and the notable thing about this picture is that my brother's hair is a lot longer than mine!
We were looking for a video, but came across a box of miscellaneous photos, so we stopped and spent an hour or so with old pictures last night.
Before I met Catherine, she was a photographer. A really, really good photographer. As part of our move across the country, we sold off her enlarger, her developing trays, etc. We've talked about building her a darkroom, but it has never seemed very practical. But looking through some of her old photographs last night, I decided that the darkroom idea has to be realized. If I move my weight bench, I could put up a partition wall and she could have a little area under the stairs. Catherine points out a partition wall isn't necessary, a temporary wall of storage bins is good enough, and would protect her equipment from any errant hockey pucks. The washer and dryer used to be in the basement, so it wouldn't be very difficult to get her some running water.
So, this will be my project for the new year: putting together some place for Catherine to develop photos, and replacing all her equipment.
Here are a few photos that I found last night that I really liked. Unfortunately, I have a low-end scanner, so I'm not doing them justice.