This is me and baby Jim visiting the Lake from California. Warning: Some rough personal revelation(s) ahead. Again, I must mention that this blog though in honour of my grandparents, is in fact part of the story of my life.
Don’t be shocked. I’m deliberately keeping my hair over my eyes here. They’d both been blackened the-night before my trip. :/
Going up there without the person who’d blackened my eyes was the best thing that could have happened for baby Jim and me. It solidified my tentative plan to get out–and that I did 3 months later.
1984~ James Dalton McCrackan, James S. F. McCrackan, Cynthia Leigh McCrackan, James Daniel McCrackan–photo by M.V. McCrackan
I know this is going to sound shocking but I have never made a video with my camera and in fact have not shot video of any kind in about twelve years. Not shocking? Huh. ;)I’ve purposely stayed with still pictures because I wanted to ‘get good’ at taking them and the format appeals to me more–usually. But to get a little slice of the Lake for my parents, who were not able to go this year, I broke down and took a couple of short videos. “Not that bad,” you say? (‘Cept the audio–holy mackerel what’s with that?) You should see the outtakes. lol.
5:30 a.m., Aug 10, 2005
That same morning...
Head Lake, Haliburton, Ontario
(This photo and ones that follow are by my spouse.)
Lake Kashagawigamog, Ontario
Ritchie Falls, on the Drag River, Ontario
(Don’t forget to click the photos to enlarge them.)
Until I became an online entity my name was Cindy.
Much like the Debbie’s Vicki’s, Sandy’s and Susie’s of the world, my parents gave me a full name, Cynthia, then promptly used a sort of “diminutive” of it in its place.
There’s never been anything very “small” about me and though being called Cindy didn’t bother me, I reverted back to Cynthia in grad school and in the work world after graduation.
While I was growing up I never insisted upon not being called Cindy even though I knew that…
Dad, Cindy, and Pug in the Fall at Maple Lake
…”Cindy” was first my parent’s dog’s name.
When I was old enough to halfway comprehend that I was named after someone, I understood “that” someone was Cindy the dog and I would unintentionally puzzle people when I told them that “I use to be a dog named Cindy.” I’m sure Mom and Dad got a few chuckles out of it and eventually I figured out what being named after someone meant (though I suppose, since Cindy died before I was conceived, I could be her ( she?) reincarnated).
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I don’t know why but whenever I think of my Great Aunt Jessie, I think of her in this blue suit–and it’s not because of this pic, either. I can see her in my mind’s eye sitting at the table in the porch of the main cottage carrying on a conversation with another family member. This was after her sister Alice (my grandmother) had died and I remember feeling a mixture of sadness and gratitude that someone that resembled my grandma was still here with us.
Even though she was visiting us at Maple Lake, one would never see Jessie in shorts like her sister. She was quite a lady. Both of them were, in fact.