I wore this patch on the back pocket of my jeans and then I believe I moved it (including the pocket) to a jeans-material backpack. I guess I was into castles.
It’s just one of thousands of things I have that I just cannot part with.
In 1977, shortly before he was to head back to England, my then boyfriend Jeremy, painted a North Woods scene on our garage doors in Elgin. It was his interpretation of the scene out the window of our vacation home in Hazelhurst, Wisconsin. The local paper even picked it up and for weeks people would slowly drive by the house to get a peek at the garage doors.
I’m not entirely sure the house was even built when Jeremy painted the garage doors — this might have been how he imaged it would look from inside the house. A fun follow-up is that Jeremy recently recreated the garage door images on a much smaller scale as a gift for my brother who now lives in the house. He even included portraits of our Mom and Dad on each door. I’m grateful we still have a connection with Jeremy. The paintings he made are priceless.
The article below, is not completely true. Jeremy did have a place in mind when he painted the image. It’s definately the view from the property.
It’s hard to see the bunny in the lower left corner on any of the photos of the complete door, but when Mom eventually had the doors painted over (we neglected to put any kind of weatherproofing on the painting) she left the bunny. Here it is with a real live bunny and a detail from the painting Jeremy made for Kevin.
Here are the paintings Jeremy created for Kevin.
When I was young and visited my grandparents home in Elgin I loved the room with the books. It was off the dining room and while the adults played poker at the dining room table the kids played with toys or read books in the book room. They had only a few books that kids would like, most were my grandfather’s books with titles like “Have Gun, Will Shoot”.
While I liked the Rupert Bear annual from maybe the 1930s, I always gravitated to the huge Ripley’s Believe it or Not book. First printed in 1929, it held illustrated stories of the strange, the next to impossible, the macabre. In its pages I learned about the man with two-foot-long fingernails, that Saint Patrick was not an Irishman, and I learned about shrunken heads. To this day I think about this book when reading clickbait headlines on the Internet.
My delight in this book was tempered with a small bit of shame. It seemed naughty reading this book and looking at the illustrations which were often off-putting. Close-ups of people, like the illustration of the actor who could make his hair stand on end or the man who buried his head in the sand for 9 hours.
And while thumbing through the book I came across something that I repeated to people as true fact throughout my childhood. I’d completely forgotten about until just now.
Maybe every era had its fake news…
Clutch Cargo Lips 