Marj's Original Christmas Cards - Part 2

The original Christmas cards my mother made every year growing up continues today.  Again, like I said a couple days ago, I can remember the assembly line-like process of of making the patterns, cutting the felt, gluing, drawing and putting a recent posed picture of the boys and dog.   The dining room table would be full of these boxes, stacks of reindeer, sprinkles, ink bottles for quite a while.

I can remember, too, one unfortunate incident involving a particular year's picture taking.  Presumably I was responsible for the destruction of the pictures when I opened the camera while the folks were gone, thus exposing the film.  Needless to say, Marj was very upset and I recall the dread that ensued from that event.  I thought Christmas was going to be ruined and that Santa would never find me, or even worse, that I would be placed on Santa's "Naughty List."  I think it is safe to say, Santa did find me.  

I also recall using George Washington's line when interrogated by Marj, thinking it would save me from harm, "I cannot tell a lie, it was me."  I thought she would applaud my honesty, when in fact, this only escalated my problems.  Only later did I learn that old Georgie was a liar.  I should have blamed the Wombie.  And just where was the supervision, anyway?

Archie still participating in the pictures.  Great old dog. 

Damn long-haired hippies.  Looks, sadly like Archie has passed away by this time.   I remember the morning - It was summer and I was heading out to Uncle Ed's for work and noticed Archie on the front sidewalk in obvious discomfort.  Marj called Doc Kingry and he came over to administer a shot.  Sometime before I had built a wooden box to put her in, and Doc, good guy he was, dug a hole and placed her remains by a tree int he back yard.  Mind you, she was the only dog we had as kids, so it was a tough time for us.  Excellent, pooch, she never ran away when outside and I recall she would be waiting in Arminta's yard waiting for us when we got off the bus every day from school.   

Unfortunately I do not have these cards in chronological order and, there she is, Archie, reappearing.  Phil broke his foot either playing basketball or in an auto accident, I'm not sure.  

My other brothers, no doubt, have more cards preserved and maybe someday, I'll get a glimpse.  I only have these, so it'll have to do.  As usual, you can click on the picture to enlarge.  These cards are a lasting tribute to her creativity. 

People don't do things like this anymore.  Cards have become a thing of the past, and although I still get some every year, the number is no where like it was in the 70's.  Perhaps it's a generational thing, maybe the cost, maybe people have just moved on to other forms of media.  There is no denying the personal touch of a handmade card with this year's newest picture of the kids, that made what Marj did stand out amongst all the other cards, which makes a blanket Facebook "Merry Christmas" seem so impersonal.  Progress isn't always enchanting.