Poppy, the Lap Dog

 
Verona, Wisconsin, January 11, 2014. Poppy is just as sweet as the Yorkie. 

UPDATE: See here for the back story.

The Prayer Book

Two years ago, I posted a crumpled photograph my paternal Grandmother, Tatjana, had carried with her when she fled the Russian Revolution. She had slipped the snapshot into a Russian-language prayer book. I have the prayer book, and I had planned to post images of it. I forgot about that idea until yesterday, when Althouse linked to the original, "Fresh off the Troika," post. 

That "Troika" post reminded me that I don't usually connect Tatjana with her Russian-religious roots. After Tatjana emigrated to Lithuania, she thoroughly assimilated. Tatjana became a devout Roman Catholic. She grew fluent in the Lithuanian language, worked at a Lithuanian library, and—while a Displaced Person—organized a Lithuanian-culture exhibit.

The only item that occasionally called us back to Tatjana's religious roots was the icon she used to bless family members.

When I looked at the prayer book today, I realized it is a Roman Catholic, not a Russian Orthodox, missal. The text includes the dialogue for a Mass written in Latin and Russian. I read only a few words in Russian, but I was able to make out that the title page states that it is a book for "Russian Catholics" (my Mom, who does read Russian, confirmed my hunch). Why did Tatjana already have a Roman Catholic prayer book when she fled Russia? There's an explanation. Tatjana met and married her Lithuanian husband, Vytautas, in Russia, while he still was serving in the Russian Imperial Army. It's likely she converted to Roman Catholicism before the wedding. The custom in an interfaith marriage—at least at that time, in that part of the world—was that the woman was the party required to convert to the man's religion.* 

The prayer book may have been an item Tatjana received from the Roman Catholic Church when she was studying for the conversion.

*Our family held this belief through the twentieth century. When a male family member married a Protestant, my Parents were miffed that the wedding ceremony took place at the bride's Protestant church. They insisted that a marriage must be consecrated in the man's house of worship. To Americans, this tradition is as peculiar as the custom that parents cannot attend a christening.

The book is in bad condition. The spine is gone. Dad must have created a book cover for it (I assume the cover is modern because it is secured with "invisible" tape).

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Here's the title page. "для русских католиков" means "For Russian Catholics."

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It looks like Polish clerics coordinated publication of the missal.

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These pages show the Latin text alongside the Russian text.

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This is the topper that decorated Tatjana's wedding cake. It's a crown: how interesting, because Orthodox wedding ceremonies use crowns.

Thanks to my Toronto Cousin for making a photo of the cake topper available to us.

Poppylink

Via Althouse: Poppy watches Abby.

A Friend of the Blog

My friend V and I met because of Amber Reunion. This is the second or third time that I've connected (or reconnected) with someone because of a blog. (The first time was when a beloved, high school friend spotted me over at Althouse. Ah! This also counts as a surprise of sorts.)

V, an active, life-long scout, had been searching for historical photos of Lithuanian scouting. She stumbled on this blog, but she did not see a direct way to contact me. Instead of commenting, V wrote to one of the Madison Lithuanians after she saw occasional references here to Wisconsin life. My friend and former folk-dancing teacher, Nijole, put V in touch with me.

V and I have been email pals ever since that original connection, and I am delighted to report that we will be meeting in person this summer.

Indiana, about 1965. Here's V with her Mom. Mom's folkdress is of exquisite quality. The book is about Lithuania's first President, Smetona. You can read more about Smetona here.

Thanks to my friend V for making this photo available to us.

A Matched Set

Last year, I posted a photo of a fair-isle tam that I knitted for a friend's birthday. Although I generally don't like to knit small things—namely, socks and mittens—I sometimes make tams for birthday gifts or as gestures of friendship. 

I recently expanded my pool of giftable items: I designed a cowl to match one of the tams that I had knitted last year. Here is the result:

Verona, Wisconsin, January 2013. I didn't decrease the number of stitches to achieve the narrowing at the top; instead, I reduced needle sizes, moving from a 3.5mm at the bottom to a 2.5mm at the top of the piece. When I blocked the cowl, I also soaked the top four inches in a cup of boiling water to narrow it further.

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Verona, Wisconsin, January 2013.  I used nine shades of undyed (natural sheep colors) Jamieson's Shetland Spindrift. I bought the yarn from Janine Bajus, the Feral Knitter.

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Madison, Wisconsin, January 2013. The cowl meets the tam. My Mom thought the cowl looked like a micro-mini skirt!

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Althouse models the matched set (photo by Meade).

Campaign stop.

The University of Wisconsin—Madison will host a presidential visit—no, wait! As Althouse notes, even the institution now openly casts the event as a campaign rally.

Do you want to get to work or to a class? Read the memo.

The "staging" began today on Bascom Hill:

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Madison, Wisconsin, October 2, 2012. The heart of campus prepares for the presidential visit.

 

It doesn't look disruptive? Not yet. Here's how things looked two years ago, when the President made a campus campaign stop:

 

 

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September 28, 2010. "Influence the results!"

Dinner Reunion

Thanks for the lovely dinner.

Madison, Wisconsin, March 17, 2012. Steenbock's on Orchard, at Wisconsin Institute of Discovery.

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Madison, Wisconsin, March 17, 2012. Our hosts, Meade and Althouse, frame Mr. Irene.

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Madison, Wisconsin, March 17, 2012. Jumbo Prawn over fettucini, tobiko, and lobster sauce.

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Madison, Wisconsin, March 17. 2012. Treescape inside the Wisconsin Institute of Discovery.

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Madison, Wisconsin, March 17, 2012. Mr. Irene and Althouse explore the echo properties in the "Round Forum" of the Wisconsin Institute of Discovery.

Addendum: The Picasso

I was reading a post at Althouse today, and I realized I'd neglected to publish a photo of the most identifiable landmark of Daley Plaza when I wrote about the 1970 Simas Kudirka Protest.

So here it is, the "Chicago Picasso," with placards under foot:

Chicago Loop, 1970. This is a photo from the only time my Dad participated in a political protest.

Adorable Interactions Reunion ...

… at the Sleeping Poodle Café.

Come on in!

Welcome, new readers. If you haven't visited here before today, then stay and poke around. This blog is about old photos and history. I talk about the experiences of family members in pre-war Lithuania, their times as Displaced Persons, and their lives as immigrants in the United States.

I also talk about myself.

Suburban Chicago, Spring 1963. The back steps down from the kitchen again serve as a ramp for the clever diva. I'm wearing an "evening gown" fashioned from a slip that belonged to my paternal Grandmother, Tatjana.

End-of-Gun-Deer-Season Reunion

The gun-deer season ends today. We're happy that most of the deer in our neighborhood appear to have made it through another November. I know, they're pests, but I am always excited to see them.


Verona, Wisconsin, March, 2007. The White-Tail family reunites in the yard for a happy greeting.

UPDATE: Welcome Althouse readers. Ha Ha! I always wanted to say that.

Just Like Mom

This photo landed on Althouse several months ago because my Mom is wearing one of those mink stoles with the animal's head and paws dangling at the piece's ends.

This is one of my favorite snapshots because it captures both my Mom's warmth and my attempt to mimic her from the tips of my fingers to the bottoms of my toes. The expression I made here—the turned up nose and the pursed lips—is one that I regularly struck when Dad got out the camera. I remember thinking that is was a "grownup face."

You'll see that expression again as I post more photos.

Suburban Chicago, April 1963. My Mom and I pose for an Easter Sunday photograph. I remember that outfit. The hat was white, and the coat was powder blue. We are sitting on the patio in the backyard. Those wicker chairs lasted many years. My parents installed the chain-link fence when I was a toddler because they couldn't keep me from running out of the backyard.