Say Prunes?

 

Simon & Augusta Fritzemeier - Randy's great grandparents - 1905

Say CHEESE! It's the ubiquitous expression when we're trying to get everyone to smile for a photo.

But say PRUNES? That's a new one for me!

Photographers have relied on the magic of cheese for decades — just mentioning the word is enough to turn up the corners of our mouths into a picture-perfect grin. But the earliest photographers utilized a different food to help purse their subjects’ puckers: prunes. According to Christina Kotchemidova, a communications professor and researcher, British photography studios of the past encouraged people to say "prunes" in an effort to tighten their lips, a look that was more socially preferable than a wide smile.

My great-grandparents with their first three children, including my Grandpa Shelby Neelly

I saved the information from Interesting Facts last week. With Easter coming up, I figured there would be photo opportunities. And there were. On Easter, I took several photos at church of my sister and various combinations of their family. 

My sister, Lisa, and her husband, Kyle with their eight grandchildren.

And I knew I'd be taking plenty of photos of Kinley and Brooke during a post-Easter visit to Topeka. So I suppose the article peaked my interest. 

Brooke & Kinley during our trip to the Topeka Zoo on Monday.

These days, we are all smiles when it comes to photos. But most 19th- and early 20th-century photos show subjects with a solemn expression, a look that’s often attributed to the long exposure times of early camera. Holding a neutral expression for several minutes was easier than maintaining a smile.

My grandparents on their wedding day

But social norms also played a big role. Stern faces remained popular even after photo technology had improved well enough to easily capture smiles by the late 1800s,. Some historians say that smiling was once considered improper. 

Randy's grandma Laura Russell and her sister Mildred Russell - undated

Beauty standards of the time called for mouths to have a subdued appearance. Kotchemidova’s research suggests people were expected to have "carefully controlled" mouths with small pouts. 

I guess the little boy in this undated photo - Randy's uncle Alvin - didn't get the memo, though his grandparents, Alvin & Laura Ritts did have pleasant expressions. I also noticed that his grandfather gave a small smile in their undated wedding portrait.

Alvin & Laura Ritts - undated

According to one study of nearly 38,000 high school yearbook photos from the 1900s to the 2010s, smiling in photos became more popular by the mid-20th century. That may be true, but here are my Great Grandma and Grandpa Neelly in their 50th anniversary portrait in 1950. They look pleasant, I suppose, but still no big smiles were evident.

1950

Some historians believe the switch was influenced by two factors: dental care and home photography. Without widespread access to dental care, missing or rotten teeth were common a detail many wouldn't wanted to feature in their portrait. Dentistry became a more established field in the early 1900s, the same time period when Kodak was marketing its amateur cameras as a way to capture life's happier, spontaneous moments - smiles included. 

Randy's dad, Melvin, and Melvin's little sister, Gloria, were smiling in this undated photo, so perhaps the tide was shifting for children by the 1930s and '40s. 

 Nowadays, Grandma Kim can be counted upon to document activities with plenty of photos. No saying "PRUNES" on my watch! So far, the girls are still cooperating.

 

Kinley, Brooke & Summer the Labradoodle

Does it look like the dog is smiling, too?

Family Photos

All photos in this post are by Demiurge Photography, Manhattan, KS

You know the worst thing about family photos?

They look just like me.

I'm kidding - sort of. 

 

I love taking photos, as evidenced by the thousands on my computer hard drive. 

I'm not as fond of being on the other side of the lens. 

 

However,  Jill arranged for a family photo shoot this fall, and we really appreciated being included. I love getting new photos of everyone else. I'm just not as wild about the process for myself. 

But as one of my favorite sayings goes, "It is what it is."

The weather didn't cooperate for the first try. But our second attempt was a perfect fall day. And I'm thankful for the updates to the photo frames scattered all around my house.

Isn't this one fun? It took several attempts to get everyone in the air and looking at the camera at the same time.

But I love all the more traditional poses as well. 

Kinley is 8 (almost 9). Brooke is 6.

I'll leave the rest of us unlabeled.

 

"Photography takes an instant out of time, altering life by holding it still." 

Dorothy Lange

 

 

A Legacy of Love

"I want to take a picture. Can you guess why?" I asked Randy.

I made Randy pause during one of our calf-working sessions this week to take a photo of a particular ear tag. It took him awhile, but he figured it out. 039: Yes, today (March 28) we will have been married 39 years. When I saw the ear tag rise to the top of the pile, I couldn't resist. (Randy will tell you I don't need much of an excuse to take a photo anyway. You probably know that, too!)

For those of you who are math-challenged, the year was 1981 and the place was the Pratt United Methodist Church. It rained so hard during the drive to Pratt that my mom pulled over on the highway to wait until we could see again. A few guests coming from out of town were late because of the deluge.

But by the time we walked down the aisle, the rain had stopped. And, as I've said many times, rain for a couple of farm kids was a good omen. The sun was shining when we left the church after the reception. (Thankfully, we had brought Randy's car instead of mine, which was stashed 15 minutes away in one of my dad's sheds. Randy's FarmHouse "brothers" had put milo in Randy's car's vents. For someone with allergies as bad as Randy's, it would have been a long trip to Colorado.)

Thankfully, the weather in 1981 wasn't like it was in 2009. We woke up to almost 2 feet of snow on March 28, 2009. I don't think either of us would have gotten to Pratt from our respective farm homes. Randy grew up 2 miles north of our house on the County Line. He wouldn't have gotten out of his driveway. That's our car buried under all that snow in 2009. My Pratt County farm road wouldn't have been any more navigable.
We will work our final group of baby calves this afternoon. I've put steaks out to thaw and I'm making a blueberry pie. (Randy prefers pie over sappy cards, though he gave me one.)

For old times sake, I should wear this apron that we got at one of our bridal showers. They were made by Sue Thole, a Stafford farm wife who's still a matriarch at our church.

With the coronavirus, we won't be going out to eat or going to a movie. After a day of working together, that would have been the extent of the celebration anyway. Eating at home isn't out of the ordinary for us - Covid-19 or not. And working together in a family business is something we saw modeled for us.

I've thought about it a lot this week. We were both blessed to grow up in families whose parents and grandparents modeled a legacy of love and hard work.

 

Randy's folks - Melvin & Marie (Ritts) Fritzemeier - were married April 29, 1951, at the Stafford UMC.

We still walk down those church steps - at least when not kept away by social distancing.

My parents were married August 12, 1953, at the Byers United Methodist Church.

But the legacy goes back even further. I don't have wedding photos of all of our grandparents. My Grandma and Grandpa Neelly were married May 20, 1934, at her parents' farm home.

My dad's parents - Lester and Orva Moore - were married January 24, 1932. There was no photo of their wedding available, but my mom included these photos in a history book.

They lived on the family homestead. However, Lester Moore died when my dad was only 9 years old in November 1943.

 

Orva Moore married the only grandpa I ever knew on that side of the family - LaVern Leonard - on December 28, 1952.

Randy's grandparents - Clarence & Ava Fritzemeier were married March 4, 1926. I found a photo from the wedding of one of Clarence's sisters, so I don't know why I couldn't find one from Clarence and Ava's special day. But I did find a certificate and a bridal memory book (copyright 1919).

Marie's dad, Alvin Ritts, was a Methodist minister, so he - along with Randy's grandma Laura (Russell) Ritts - lived a life in parsonages, different from the farm upbringing of the rest of our family. I don't know their wedding date, but I found a photo from what I assume is their wedding day.

Alvin & Laura Ritts - undated

Like my dad, Marie lost her father at a young age. Alvin Ritts died from a heart attack when Marie was only 12. The family moved to Stafford, where Laura took care of elderly family members. And the rest, as they say, is history.

When I was digging through old family photos yesterday, the oldest wedding photo I found was from 1905 - Simon and Augusta Fritzemeier - married in 1905. They were Randy's paternal great-grandparents.

Simon & Augusta Fritzemeier - Melvin's grandparents - 1905

Most of our grandparents were at our March 1981 wedding.

From left: L.C. & Orva Leonard; Shelby & Lela Neelly; us; Laura Ritts; Clarence & Ava Fritzemeier.

I couldn't resist including another couple of photos I uncovered. They are practically antiques - but not quite. 

 Taken at a bridal shower back in 1981

Taken at our first house. It was "fancy." We had a dressing room. OK - the truth. The bed was the only thing that would fit in the bedroom. Even then we could barely walk in the door of the room. We had our dressers in the next bedroom.

Marrying Randy was the best decision I've ever made. I'm thankful every day for this life we live together.

From the combine, wheat harvest, June 2019