And then there were four...

My parents were adventurous in spirit back in the late 1960s or perhaps they were just trying to "get back to the land." For whatever reason, they left all they knew in Massachusetts and moved north - to Maine. They bought a farm with 50 acres- they were city people. I wonder at times what they even knew about farming or animals or anything that had to do with "getting back to the land."  The huge wooden barn had stood solid for close to 70 years at that point. The farmhouse was just as strong (the second oldest farm in our town).

There was definitely some updating needed to make it comfortable. Just little things like indoor plumbing. The farm had not been lived in for ten years. Those first few years were hard I'm sure. My mother talked a lot about the large snake skin she found in the bottom drawer of the kitchen, pumping water at the sink with the old-fashioned hand pump, and the "two-holer" outhouse in the barn.

When they came to Maine  - mainly to allow their children to grow up away from the city and all of its issues - they had three small children - the "older three." My eldest brother was about 7, my sister 4 & my brother would have been 3. And me? I wasn't even thought of yet.

My mother loved children. Sadly she experienced three miscarriages and they can be spotted in the large gaps in age between the five of us. There were two between myself and my brother - four years older than I. I have to wonder if she was pregnant when they moved with a sibling I have yet to meet. Sadly, I can't ask her as she passed away about a year ago.

However, this is my birth story and how I was named.

I was about 11 months old here.

All photo taken of photos in my "All About Me" scrapbook.

I came in to this world a red-skinned, black haired screaming banshee - or so I'm told. Although I do have photos to prove it. In fact, my mom called me her "Indian baby." Yes, I know - it's not politically correct but it's part of my story all the same.

My grandfather holding me when I was about a week old.

I was born on December 3rd in a small town in Maine. On that very same day a little boy was born. Our mother's shared a recovery room. I went to school with that little boy from first grade to twelfth. I still remembering standing in the front of my first grade class while we were both serenaded with "Happy Birthday" by our classmates. As shy as I was back then, I found the whole thing painful to bear.

Thankfully I have been interested in family stories and history for some time and back in 1999 I bugged my mother for the reason she chose the names she did for all of us. Thanks to e-mail I have the original response from my mom - printed out and saved all these years....

You were Lisa out of a baby name book I had and no, 

I do not know which one it is, but I liked

the meaning of the name. (look it up ::grin) 

[I did - it is Hebrew for "God's promise" or 

"Gift from God." And now it suddenly hits me why 

the meaning of my name would have 

meant a lot to my mom]

Anne was after Anne Ovary a wonderful 85 year-old-lady 

[we knew]when you were born.

And you are a hyphenated child. 

[I gave her grief over this as I technically do

not have a middle name. ::grin::]

My three older siblings. I'm laying on the changing table

behind them. The funny thing about this photo...

they all had blond hair then. Now it's all darker brown.

I was born with black hair. 

Now it's light brown/blond. 

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I'm very thankful to have found this blog today - Mommy's Piggy Tales. Join us every Thursday as over the next 15 weeks we record our memories. Not for our sake - but for our children's.