Today is my mother's birthday. She would have been 89. She led a good life, a hard life. She had such a lovely name, Genevieve.
She didn't think it was a hard life then. She just thought that was the way life was.
In a way, she worked for the lumber camp herself, setting the long tables with plates and eating utensils. Putting syrup, molasses, salt and home made jams in the center for the pancakes while her mother cooked up the big pans of bacon and eggs fried in their grease.
So she could find work as a housekeeper, mother sent her off to live with her older, married sister.
Those are just some facts about my Mom's childhood, shared for no particular reason except today is my mother's birthday and these things have come to mind.
The first photo is my mother as an infant with her mother and aunt, and work horse.
Second photo was taken the year Papa died.
The third photo was taken when Genevieve was 14, when times were better.