This motto makes so much more sense to me now than when I stitched this sampler!
The top story in this week’s issue of the original Boomerang makes a great bookend to a post from five months ago (here), which had to do with “falling back” (for the first time in the US!) AND with a robbery! That robbery was of tomatoes; this one is of a bank (!!). And in this issue, time is springing forward … with the comical consequence of the Boomerang Man getting to report that in church, ” when the preacher announced the hymn for opening, he said, ‘Let us both sing No. 261.'” Hee-hee!
In the story entitled “A Delegation from Indianola,” the “delegation” is made up entirely of Hasties. These were all cousins (first mentioned here). Father and mother were (William) Alex Hastie and Louie Hastie (née Loper); all the children are mentioned here: Wilhma, Helen, Herbert, and Bernice. (See census record for 1920 below.)
… and while I’m at it, here’s the Loper family, showing Louie (not to mention Mary), in 1885 (compare to the family members listed in the 1870 census here):
That’s probably enough commentary on this issue; readers of this Boomerang will have to check out the bank robbery story for themselves — and note that Beth and Harold are still going out for drives!
It was the second day in a row here of temperatures in the 40s and even quite a bit higher; might we be climbing out of the winter of 2014? Stay tuned! In the meantime, in addition to its featured window box pansies, this is another photo of a window reflecting windows …
Nothing like the number three for symmetricality!
Just one installment in an installation work called “Paper Chase” by Alice Aycock currently gracing the medians of Park Avenue. Read all about it (and see a better photograph of “Hoop-La”) here.
Daffy down dilly
has come to town
with a yellow petticoat
and a green gown.
… brave of her, what with the howling arctic wind all day today (sunny though)!
Today was the 103rd anniversary of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire (read about the 100th here). The sashes on the ladies’ blouses give the names of the (mainly) young women who died because of the conflagration.