Family Stories: Swimsuit Edition

74th Edition of the Carnival of Genealogy

Swimsuit Edition! Why should Sports Illustrated have all the fun? This is your chance to show off the bathing beauties in your family. Pull out the old photos of Grandma Moses in her seaside bloomers, Auntie Mae in her pin-up girl suit from the 1940s or 50s, cousin Paula in her psychedelic bikini from the 1970s, or even yourself in your Speedo! Let's have some fun here! Memorial Weekend is behind us and that means the start of the summer sun, sand, and lakeside season so let's get in the mood with summer fun photos. What? You don't have any swimsuit photos you dare to share? No problem! Tell us your best family beach stories instead! The deadline for submissions is June 15th. This edition of the COG will be hosted at Creative Gene.



And here is my Swimsuit Edition Family Story:


Our Ride Home From Big Bend in West Texas
My dad was famous in our family for taking the "road less traveled" when vacationing.  One time on the way home from a big trip in Big Bend in West Texas, my dad impulsively decided to take a "small" detour to a small motel located on the Guadalupe River called River Inn [which is still there today].  I must have been about 5 years old, or so, and as I've mentioned before, I was [and still am] the "Bonus Child" in our family.  My siblings refer to me as "the accident," but my mom always called me the their "Bonus Child," and I, for obvious reasons, prefer the latter term.  Now, my siblings always liked to give me a hard time because I was the "spoiled baby" of the family, and on this little side-trip that my dad had taken was no exception.  One of my older sisters, Terri was forever getting me into trouble and, of course, I never got her into trouble.  At this inn, there is a slide that is carved out of rock and cement.  It's not a very big one, but to someone who's 5 years old and doesn't know how to swim, it can look a little scary.  My sister Terri, though, was there for "moral" support.  I was just minding my own business, and doing my own thing...





Then, Terri decided that I wasn't having any "fun," and that I needed to go down the slide in search of the "fun" like everyone else.  She said, "Watch.  See.  Everyone's doing it, and you can, too.  It's not scary.  You're going to have so much fun."  She really was very persuasive.  I mean, she could sell ice to an Eskimo, and he'd be very satisfied with his purchase.  She went on to point out each family member as they went down the slide...









After seeing everyone go down the slide, I decided that, yes, I could do this.  After all, everyone else was doing it, and they were just fine.  However, I still had some reservations.  So, I agreed to go down the slide with my big brother, Joe.  Surely, it would be fun just like Terri had said it would be...



O.K., so it wasn't all that I had hoped for, and nothing like what my sister had promised it to be.  However, like any good, persistent, and successful salesman, Terri had not given up on my quest for "fun".  So, she sat me down, and proceeded to convince me that I needed to go down by myself in order to find my "fun".  She told me everything would be fine because I was wearing a life preserver.  So, like the loyal and trusting "customer", I bought her theory again...







I have to say at this point, I was not happy with my sister, but just between you, me, and the gatepost, it was fun, as my big smile indicates.  Below is a picture that I found of my family that was taken about four years before I hit the scene.  I'm not sure of the location, but if I had to guess [which I do], I'd say it was Canyon Lake, which is north of San Antonio.  My dad is probably taking the picture.  In the picture is my mom, my siblings, my Aunt Carole, and my cousins.  As you can see, they are smiling, but there seems to be something missing in their lives.  They just don't look as happy as they could be.  It's probably because they didn't have anybody to torture until...I came along!





Caroline