My wifes modeling career

[jdviole2]

On one of our trips to California we stopped overnight in Las Vegas. The main reason was that Helena wanted to see the Liberace museum. I must admit that the museum was interesting. It was filled with his costumes, cars, and gifts from fans (including a miniture piano made from Macaroni). We stayed at the Flamingo Hilton. That night we walked the strip stopping at some of the casinos. Helena liked Circus Circus the best though she liked some of the others too. We mostly just looked around that night. I gave her five dollars of my money to put into a slot so that she could say she gambled. She lost it all. That was enough for her. The next morning she went out by herself to shoot pictures and I went down to the casino in the Hilton. I put twenty dollars into a slot and before it was gone hit a jackpot for thirty eight fifty. I cashed out immediately and went out to read in the car. When she came back I told her how I did and when she told the story later to people she bragged that every time we went to Vegas (not telling them it was only once) we came home winners (not telling them how much). Years later as casinos began to open up across the country we went with my parents to one not too far from our home. Dad was a gambler and I guess I inherited that from him. Nickle video machines were big then so that is what she played. That first trip she came home a winner by a small amount. She really loved playing the games, especially some of the "bonus" games. She liked winning too, but did NOT like to lose money. Her way of gambling was to put 20 dollars in and if she won over that amount to cash it out immediately. She expected me to play the same way and it caused a bit of friction when I wouldn't do it her way. We usually played at machines separated from each other (at her request) so she couldn't see how dangerously (her opinion) I gambled. We made a rule that if she sat and watched me play (as she sometimes did when she thought she had lost enough) she was not allowed to comment on how I was gambling. She broke that rule once and it almost caused a fight between us. The bonus round on the machine I was playing (an Evil Kenivel machine) involved making motorcycle jumps. I made the first jump and won ten dollars. I could cash it out or go again depending on which button I pushed. I selected the next jump. Helen was not happy but it was only 10 dollars. I made the jump and was up one hundred and ten dollars. She looked at me and told me that now was when I should cash out. I put my finger on the cash out button and told her all I had to do was press it. She sat back happy and then I moved my finger and pressed the jump button a third time. I thought she was going to kill me right then and there. She began to read me the riot act. Some people at the surrounding machines were starting to take notice, maybe expecting a real fight. All the time she is yelling the bonus game is proceeding. It made her madder that I was ignoring her and watching the machine. You can guess where this is going. I made the jump and then cashed out for three hundred and fify plus dollars. As I expected the fact that I had won made no difference. The "discussion" continued while we waited for the attendant to pay me, while we walked to our car, the entire ride home and right up to when we went to bed. It went on for three more days before she quit talking about it. We went back many times to the casino and others and she never tried to tell me how to gamble again. Like I said she wasn't a good gambler. I guess, looking back, she probably figured she had gambled enough when she married an common seaman in the Navy with no prospects for employment when he got out. You would need to ask her how that gamble worked out, I'm too close to the situation to render an opinion. The first picture for today is one from her dad. This is another of the "graduation" set (you can tell by the short hair). This would have been in 1972. The second picture is Helena astride some kind of animal from a park somewhere probably in the late 70's. At the risk of it sounding dirty Helena just couldn't see anything like that without wanting to climb on top. The third picture is Helena and one of our friends cats in Colorado in the early 90's. They had a lot of cats and dogs and loved to hike like we did. The fourth shot is another of Helena taken by her dad. This was after we met in 1973. Next we have Helena at the beach. She got to see the ocean many times after that first "nude sunbather" experience. I think she might have been expecting to see others but we never did. (I did suggest that we visit a nude beach but that suggestion was rejected). This was taken in the late 70's, and note she is in those white pants I mentioned yesterday. The last one for today is a portrait taken during one the of the nude photo sessions in 1975.

[jdviole2]

On the many vacations we took together we went on a large number of hikes and climbed up many mountains. I think if you could ask Helena however she would probably tell you that her favorite climb was to the top of Saint Peters in Rome. At the end of her stay with me in Naples she was going to fly back to Munich to meet her mom and travel with her home. Instead of flying out of Naples we made her reservation from Rome. We did that so we could see Rome together before we had to part. Rome is only about 45 minutes away from Naples by express train so I had been there many times and I wanted her to see some of the city. (Once I wrote home that I was bored one weekend and went to Rome. My dad, who never wrote to me mom always did, sent a letter that had only two lines. He said "I got bored last weekend. I went to K-Mart"). We spent one day visiting the ruins of ancient Rome and the next day at the Vatican. She liked the museum (including the Sistene Chapel) and the inside of Saint Peters. She had dressed in slacks that day since there was and probably still is a kind of "dress code". No shorts or revealing clothes were allowed inside the church. Anyway. After we had seen the inside of the church I suggested to her that we go up to visit the dome. At that time (and maybe still today) you could climb to the top of Saint Peters dome. There is a charge but it was pretty modest. You first take an elevator to the roof of the main church. We walked to the front of the church and stood by one of the huge statues lining the edge, and looked down into the square. The scale of the building has to be seen to be believed. You are unexpectedly high up and everyone below really seem to be the size of ants. We then walked to the base of the dome and inside. At this point you are standing over the main alter area and at the base of the huge dome overhead. This is the whispering gallery. I had Helena stand next to the wall and I walked around to the other side of the dome. I leaned against the wall and whispered "I love you". I saw her jerk her head up and stare at me. The acoustics are amazing. You really can hear a whisper from across that space and even in a crowd, and recognize the voice. Next we began to climb toward the top of the dome. There are really two domes. The one you see from outside and the other inside. The stairway towards the top of the church is between the two domes. The stairway is a metal structure (of fairly recent vintage). You can see many of the details of the construction. Helena didn't have any background in building techniques but still found the experience very interesting. When you reach the top of the stairway the real fun begins. The final climb to the top of the dome is up a set of marble stairs. The stairs themselves are deeply worn in the center from the feet of all the many people who have made the climb over the years. I think that was one of the things that impressed her the most. She really got a sense of time past there. The marble staircase is a winding spiral and very narrow. There is no handrail to grab but only a thick rope hanging down the middle and fastened at the very top of the dome. The rope itself is worn smooth from the years of hands clasping it. Helena loved this part most of all. You really don't have any idea of time when you are at that point of the climb. There is nothing to tell you what year, or even what century it is. At the top you are in the cupola and you can go outside and stand and move around a narrow walkway. You can see down into the Vatican grounds and out over the city. You can see most all of the famous buildings and ruins from that viewpoint. We stayed up there for quite a while. We didn't talk much, she just stood with a beautiful smile on her face and shining eyes. Then we started down the winding marble stairs and retraced our steps back to the ground. It was funny, she never talked much about that climb but any time I would mention it she would get a far away look in her eyes, a smile on her face, and I knew she was back there again in her mind. I can't see a picture of Saint Peters today without returning there in my own mind. It is a very good memory, that makes me a little sad now, but one I wouldn't trade for anything. The first picture today is from Naples in 1974. Helena is in the parking lot of the hotel where we stayed while she visited me. An old hotel but with a bathroom in the room and a shower that was an open area with the shower head, no shower door. It was very large and highly recommended by me for newlyweds. Lots of room to get soapy and play. The next picture is Helena examining an exhibit in another museum, probably in California. This was, I think, in the early 80's. Third today is another butt shot (boy did I catch hell for taking those kinds of pictures, she never believed she had a nice looking rear). This is at Rainbow Bridge national monument. There are two ways to get there. You can take a horse or walk a very long way (it takes a few days walking) or take a boat up Lake Powell. We went by boat. This was on our marathon California trip. We took three weeks to get there and back so we could see many things on the way to and from. This was on our list of places to visit again one day. A list sadly that we never got to use. The fourth picture is another from her dad. Taken in 1973. It is somewhat rare in that she is wearing a long dress. She never did that much. The fifth picture is another of the public baths in Pompeii. She is sitting on the edge of what was one of the pools where hot or cold water was placed. Her companion is a friend from the navy, face obscured for privacy issues. This was in 1974. The last picture is of Helena and her mom being photographed by her dad at the Earl May trial gardens in Iowa, taken in 1976.

[jdviole2]

I have been thinking a lot about all the illness and injuries Helena suffered in the years we were married. The first and up to her death the worst came in the mid 90's. We had been in our second house for only a few years when I got a call at work. It was Helena and she told me she felt funny. She sounded strange to me so I started immediately for home. When I got there she was sitting on the edge of the couch leaning back and stiff as a board. She was out and totally non responsive. Our cat was sitting by her side licking her arm and hand, trying to get a reaction. Her mom had told me before we were married about the bleeding in her brain she had when she was just a teen. I knew that there was a chance it would happen again and I think I suspected that this was it. I called 911. At the hospital I met with a neurosurgeon who told me that she had an AVM (Arterial Venous Malformation) basically a tangle of blood vessels that she was born with. It was leaking and she needed immediate surgery. It was our good luck that he was a professor of neurosurgery on a teaching rotation in the hospital. When she came out of surgery she went to Intensive Care. Half her head was bandaged with a drain hose coming out. They had shaved half her head. She was unconcious. She stayed out for almost 6 days. Finally my mom got her to open her eyes and she began to wake up more fully after that. What the bleeding and surgery had done to her brain was unknown. She might not be able to speak, she might not be able to read, she might not even remember who I was. It was very hard waiting for her to wake. She couldn't talk since there was a breathing tube down her throat. Before all this we had been discussing that fact that I did not want to wear contact lenses anymore. She wanted me to continue wearing them and I did not. It was a heated debate. One day I went in to her room and she was fully awake. Up to now I didn't know if she even remembered me or not. I went up to the side of the bed and before I could even get any words out she pointed to my glasses and waggled her finger back and forth. She was continuing the discussion. I was so relieved I almost burst into tears. She remembered me, enough to nag me about the glasses. She couldn't talk so I brought a small pad of paper and pencil with me the next time I went to see her. The doctor and the nurse both were skeptical that she would be able to write at all. I handed her the paper and pencil and she began to scrawl words on the paper then gave it to me. The spelling was bad but I could read the words "you came home". The doctor was sure that her cognition had been affected and was very surprised when he saw me smile. I told him that the note refered to her call to me when she had the bleed and the fact I came home to her. Not only could she write but she remembered what had happened just prior to passing out. She spent a week in the ICU, two weeks in Post Intensive and another two weeks in a regular hospital room. Then she had to go to stay in a rehab facility for a month. The place she was sent for rehab was actually a geriatric facility that had some available beds and were looking to make some more money by doing rehab. Helena was the youngest person there and the person closest to her age was over 30 years older. She had not had her hair washed for two months and was anxious to get that done. She moved in on Monday and they told us that since bath day was Sunday she would have to wait a week before she could get her hair washed. She was really pissed. The next day when I got over to see her I noticed that her hair had been washed. I told her I was glad that they had washed her hair. She just looked at me and grinned. I then realized that she had gone into the bathroom and washed her own hair in the sink. I knew then that she was going to be OK. And she was. While she was in the ICU I wanted to take a picture of her so she could see how banged up she was. Everyone, my mom, the doctor, the nurses, all told me that would be a horrible idea. Soon after she got home from the rehab she casually mentioned that one thing she wished I had done was take a picture of her with all the bandages and tubes so she could see what she looked like. That was my girl. Todays first picture is of Helena outside of Disneyland. Taken in the late 70's this was her third separate trip to Disneyland. The second picture is of her and her mother at a viewing stand at the trial gardens. The third shot is Helena (from behind again, I must have really loved her butt) crossing a field of slick rock. I don't remember exactly where or when this was taken. Note the small pile of rocks just to her left. This is a trail marker. When in this type of terrain you need to leave markers like this. The idea that from each marker you can see the prior and the next marker. I taught Helena this and then she took the lead on the hike. The fourth picture is another one from her dad taken in 1973. The next picture was also taken by her dad in May of 1974. This was taken the day before our wedding. And, yes that is me in the picture. The last shot for today is another "resting on the trail" picture. There are so many of these since it was the only times during the hikes that she was still long enough to get really good pictures. Probably in the early 80's for this picture and in Colorado.

[jdviole2]

On our many vacations we visited many different hotels and motels. Some were very nice. The motel in Flagstaff Arizone, Little America was the most over the top motel we ever stayed in. The walls were covered with red velvet flocked wall paper and the room was filled with elaborate wood furniture. The only thing that freaked Helena out about this motel was that in the bathroom was one wall with a floor to ceiling mirror. She loved getting dressed and then being able to see top to bottom how she looked but the down side was that the wall was oposite the shower and the toilet. She told me that sitting on toilet and facing herself in a crystal clear image was more than she could take. She said she had to look at the floor the entire time. I must say I agreed with her. It is very disconcerting watching yourself doing something like that. The Hollywood Holiday Inn was another of the good hotels we stayed in. The rooms were just the basic but the people made up for it. We stayed there three times over 7 years and had the same waiter in the dining room each year. He actually remembered us from year to year. The most amazing to me was our final stay. It had been 5 years since we had been there, yet when we sat down our waiter came over with the drinks we were going to order. He remembered us from five years previous. At various times we saw celebrities there (I even rode up in the elevator with Donna Summer, anyone remember her?) There were some really bad places we stayed also. We stayed in a place in Palm Springs California that looked very nice and was a national chain. We had to move out of our first room due to the smell. Something had died and rotted in or very near the room. It smelled like a dead body. The next room we were in looked ok. There was a noise in the hall and I went over to peek out the door to see what caused the sound. You know how they have those peepholes in the doors. You can look out and see a wide angle view of the hall but no one can see into the room. Well the lens in this door was reversed. You couldn't see into the hall but from the outside you had a perfect view of the entire room inside. Helena wanted to change rooms but I just took a wad of chewing gum and blocked the hole. The worst place we ever stayed was a place called Ruby's Inn just outside of Bryce Canyon national park. At the time we were there it was the only place to stay within 30 miles of the park. And boy did they take advantage of it. We were on the second floor and you went up the stairs and along a outside walkway. The walkway creaked and groaned and actually sloped sharply toward the parking lot. It was on the edge of collapse. Then there was the restaurant. They had a salad bar. You got a small desert plate and were allowed only 1 trip to the salad bar. There was a choice of two salad dressings and you had to pour them out of the bottle. I don't remember the main course but only that it caused Helena severe upset of the stomache and an agonizing trip up the stairs, down the walkway, and into the room before spending a long time in the bathroom. The topper to the whole meal was the "homemade Hot Fudge Sundae". They had small dishes of soft serv ice cream already made in the freezer. The took the plastic wrap off of these and poured a little Hershey's Syrup right from the can over the top. That was it. It wasn't hot, it wasn't fudge, and the only thing home made involved an ice cream machine and a can opener. We were only there one night and both swore that when/if we came back to the park we would stay in the nearest town (30 miles away). The place is gone now (probably collapsed) and there is a Best Western (also called Ruby's Inn) in its place. If Helena were still here I'm sure she would tell you that even as a Best Western she wouldn't be staying at any place called Ruby's again. There are so many stories about so many places. Like the Red Roof Inn we stayed at in Kansas City that had a leaky roof. (Love the Irony). There was the motel in Estes Park Colorado that we stayed at that advertised itself as being out of the way and quiet and serene. The second time we stayed there most of the motel was occupied with college age men and women that were working in Rocky Mountain National Park. The night we arrived they had a huge party, real noisy. In the morning I was putting our camera equipment in the car and met two of the young women. They were very apologetic about the noise and told me that they didn't know anyone else was at the motel. I told them that was OK as long as the next time I got an invite to the party. (That part did not go over well with Helena. I was accused of being a flirt, she always accused me of flirting.) I told Helena that I was only joking and of course I wouldn't go to any party like that. She didn't buy that for a minute. Before we get to the pictures one last story. This also occured in LA at the Hollywood Holiday Inn. For our first trips to LA we flew and then took cabs, and public transport. We checked out and were getting into our cab. The driver asked us if we minded sharing the cab since he had some people that needed to get to the airport as soon as possible. Helena agreed, reluctantly, she like alone in the cabs with me. The driver put her in the front seat and I got in the back. The driver told me it might be a bit crowded and he hoped I wouldn't mind, then gave me a "dirty grin". I saw why. Dallas had been in town for a football game. We were going to be sharing a ride with four of the cheerleaders. Three of them got in the back seat with me (pressed very close). Then the fourth one asked me if I minded if she sat on my lap. I looked up and the only thing I saw were Helena's eyes. They looked black, like in the movies when the demon had possessed someone. I said sure and then began the best and worst ride I ever had in a cab. The best part can probably be understood by each of you. The hardest part (no pun intended) was to keep my face perfectly blank showing no emotion at all. Because I think that Helena spent the entire trip half turned in the seat making sure I behaved. She carried on a conversation with the girls and she told me later that she thought they were very nice. She enjoyed the ride, partially for the conversation, the other part for my discomfort. We got to the airport and checked in. We got on the plane and took off. Somewhere over the Rocky Mountains with no advance warning she turned in her seat and said to me "Well I just bet you are proud of yourself". That was the only mention of the cab ride for weeks. Later on of course it became a part of "family lore". She actually embelished the story more than I ever would have dared to. In her version of the story I was drooling and panting for the entire ride. In her version they were dressed in their cheerleader outfits (not true, damnit, just normal clothes). In her version I got a kiss goodbye from the one that was on my lap. I actually prefered her version to the truth. On to todays truth. The first picture is Helena in front of Manns Chinese Theater. I posted another similar picture but this is actually in the courtyard where the footprints are. This was probably the same trip with the cheerleaders, sometime in the late 70's. The second picture is another from her dad's shots. The third shot shows Helena sitting at trailside getting her camera ready. This was in the late 70's in Colorado. I'm not sure where the fourth shot is taken (possibly Silver Dollar City) but is probably from the mid 80's. The next picture shows Helena examining part of Hollyhock house in LA. This was a house designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. This was in the late 70's. The last picture is the last of the shots of Helena dressed to go out and our Tulips. In the late 70's.

[jdviole2]

Before I go on today I forgot yesterday to mention one of the motels we stayed at that Helena really got a kick out of. We were at Lake Powell to see Rainbow Bridge. We had made reservations based on reviews we read in the AAA travel guide book. The motel we selected (a Best Western if I remember correctly) among other amenities boasted a lake view. Now Lake Powell is a huge lake, for those who don't know. And it is surrounded by motels. We got to Page Arizona and turned on the correct road (according to the guide book) to take us to our motel. We drove past at least 20 different motels but did not see ours. We kept driving. (NOTE: be sure to check distances when refering to the guidebook). We soon left the populated area and were driving in a semi desert area. Sand, scrub brush, no trees, just flat FLAT land. We drove for another 5 minutes or so when Helena noticed a building on the horizon surrounded by absolutely nothing else. It was all alone. With a perfect movie reference (she loved movies probably more than any thing else) Helena said "Oh look the Bates Motel". You guessed it, as we got closer we saw the sign that proclaimed this was our motel. To be fair it was an excellent motel, clean, fairly newly built and well maintained. The usual procedure for us was that Helena would stay in the car while I checked in and then we would go to our room. In this case though as soon as I stepped into the office I turned right around and got her to come in with me. The reason was that the office area was filled with cats, 2 dogs and about 15 parakeets flying loose. I know you're thinking 15 loose birds, tons of bird crap. Wrong. The manager kept the place spotlessly clean. Helena was enchanted. While she played with the cats she had two birds on her shoulders. Normally she did not like birds but you just couldn't not like these. We got our room assigned (on the second floor) and went up. Like Ruby's that I mentioned yesterday, the entrance to the room was from a walkway outside of the building. Unlike Ruby's this walkway was stable and sturdy. The only thing was that no matter how hard we looked we couldn't see the lake. There was a range of low hills on the horizon that blocked our view. I let Helena into the room and went back to the office. The manager laughed when I asked about the lake view. She gave me directions. I went back to the room and had Helena follow me. Turns out that if you walked to the very end of the second floor walkway and leaned WAY out over the rail you could just peer between two of the hills in the distance and see a small patch of blue water. So they didn't lie, it did have a lake view. When we were at the motel Helena spent a lot of time in the office playing with all the animals. Moving on for today just a few words about painting. Like I said a long time ago experts say you should never do any painting project with your spouse. Causes nothing but trouble. In our case that was not true. We loved working on things together and probably painting most of all. When we were growing up neither of us got to do any of the actual painting ourselves. We were both delegated to the cleanup and fetch and carry details. So actually getting to do the fun stuff was heaven to us both. Helena was a joy to work with. Anything that needed doing she could do and do well. Whether it was masking the woodwork, mixing the paint, or cleaning up afterward. A couple of todays pictures involve our painting. The only problem with us working on projects together was that there might be occasional interruptions. (A word of advice. Making love on the floor surrounded by open cans of paint and paint filled trays and wet brushes is a logistical nightmare. We never did spill anything but I did end up with a uniquely colored body part. She thought she was so funny.). We painted both inside and outside both our houses. Anything that needed doing she was game to try. In a lot of ways she was braver than I ever will be. OK on to the pictures. The first picture is of Helena and the 40th birthday decorations that she tried to avoid by vacationing. This was in 1991. The next two pictures are of Helena in the midst of painting our second house. The first she is masking the bedroom window and in the second she is standing on a built in desk in the spare bedroom doing the actual painting. Both are from 1990. The fourth is Helena in Arches National Park in the late 80's. Another of the outfits I really like, those "short" striped shorts and the blue top. I always thought she look great in blue. The fifth picture is a proud Helena in her brand new car, just before her 40th birthday in 1991. The last shot is an unusual, for Helena, try at an artsy portrait. I don't know when this was taken, but most probably in the early 90's.

[jdviole2]

I was watching a program on HBO last night and the host was talking about he and his wife having their own Five List. He was talking about a list of the five people that your mate would allow you to have sex with. A surprising number of couples have something like this. Of course the lists are only a fantasy. Usually they involve movie stars, sports stars, other famous glamorous people. Helena and I both had our lists, though she refused to admit that having sex was involved at all. She called hers her fabulous five. The people on her list changed frequently. All were movie and TV stars. Brad Pitt, Johnny Depp, Mark Whalburg all made the list at one time or another. I told her that my list was more like the fabulous five hundred. Mine were also mostly movie and TV stars. She assured me that I could have sex with any of them that asked me secure in the knowledge that the likelyhood of that happening was approaching zero. Periodically she would ask me if a certain person was on the list or still on the list. I would ask her the same. She once surprised me by asking if a girl who was my best friend in High School was on my list. I had talked about her to Helena before because I credited Sara Jo with my asking Helena to marry me. I did not date in high school. Too shy and insecure. Sara was dating a friend of mine and we became friends. When he dumped her because she wouldn't sleep with him we remained friends. I fell for her bad. Her friendship built up my confidence to the point that when I met Helena I was able to take the last steps and ask her out. I told Helena that Sara was not on my list. Helena said she would have loved to meet her and thank her for all she did for me, whether she knew how important that had been or not. I then told Helena that I only had two regrets in my life. The first was that on the last day of school I did not tell Sara that I loved her. The second was that I did not ask her if I could kiss her goodbye. Helena leaned over kissed me and told me she understood completely. And I really believe she did. When I tell the stories about Helena I sometimes I worry that I come off as a bit cruel to her. All the practical jokes I played on her. All the tricks. Well what I never mention is that she gave as good as she got. Her family, as I mentioned, did not joke around so she was not good at it at first. My father, however, was excellent at it. He immediately threw his alligence to Helena and helped her put over some great tricks on me. Once she gave me a box of expensive chocolates. We carefully ate one each at night so they would last. One night I went out to get our chocolates and the box was gone. I found only three chocolates left in a dish in the cupboard. Helena explained that my parents were over visiting that day and she had given them some to take home with them. Finally she couldn't take my moping around anymore and admitted that the rest of the chocolates were hidden in another cupboard. (My father was the creator of the joke, Helena his willing pawn). An ongoing prank I pulled on Helena involved our hiking. The places we hiked usually had a restroom at the trail head and from then on you were on your own. When the call came you picked your place and took care of it in front of the birds and bees. The very first time she needed to go on the trail Helena, very crossly, told me to put my camera away. She didn't want any pictures taken. Well that was a challenge I couldn't pass up. I took a picture. From that point on I would sneak pictures of her peeing in the woods, the rocks, the trees, where ever. She never saw me do it. When the slides were developed I would put them into trays and we would have a slide show. Sooner of later the picture of her peeing would come on the screen and she never failed to squeal and swear at me. We would then invite my parents and her dad over to see the slides. As the show started she would always ask me if I had removed the shot of her from the tray. Every time I would assume a shocked expression and apologize to her saying I forgot. She would then sit there fretting until the show was over. After everyone had left she would confront me and I would have to admit that I had removed the offending picture. I put them in a special place in storage. I found those pictures yesterday. Ah the memories. Today our first picture is one without Helena. I include it because it was the site of an especially Helena moment. Picture one is the Circus Maximus in Rome. I know it doesn't look like much today but if you picture the chariot race from Ben Hur you will get the idea. It was where the chariot races were held in ancient Rome. Nothing would do but we have a footrace. Helena and I ran the length of the track (one way) her laughing all the way, hair flying out. The second picture is Helena at Disneyland. This would have been in the early 80's. The third shot is another from her dad and shows a 17 year old Helena in her school uniform. Due to her medical problems she had trouble in high school. The local public schools were not able to do anything to help so the nuns at a local Catholic High school took her as a student and she graduated from there. This would have been in 1969. The fourth picture is one of my finds from yesterday. That buttcrack between the trees is Helen taking care of business in the mountains of Colorado in the early 80's. The fifth picture is also from yesterday. Helena posing outside in her bikini. This was in 1975. I found this in a box of slides with other shots of her, mostly portraits. It also contained pictures of me that I had forgotten her taking. At the time of the nude posing she felt I needed to pose for her too. Not nude (we should all be thankful for that) but in a very skimpy bathing suit she bought especially for my photo session. A lot of the shots were outdoors but a couple were inside and were copies of some of her nudes with me and my bathing suit. Those pictures will never see the light of day (or the internet). There is about twice as much material in a common wash cloth as there was in the damn suit. I think she really got a kick out of making me pose in that thing. The last shot is from a series of portraits taken in the mid 70's. I had forgotten taking these. Enjoy.

[jdviole2]

I know I have mentioned before that Helena was a movie fan. She loved going to the movies. Early in our marriage we went to a movie almost every weekend. There are people who can only watch a movie once and never again. That was not Helena, she could watch movies again and again. Her early movie going experiences were around Shirley Temple. She just loved Shirley. In fact since I began painting and drawing portraits she only requested one from me, and that was Shirley Temple. (I could have shot her, those damn curls took forever). We bought one of the first VHS player/recorders on the market. I bought some of her favorite movies on tape for her so she could see them whenever she wanted. Though she started her love of movies planted firmly in the "kiddie" realm she didn't stay there. One of our first outings after we got married, before I had to return to Italy was to go to a movie. I asked her what movie she wanted to see. She didn't say at first. I couldn't imagine what the hell she wanted to see that was that bad. Turns out she wanted to see The Exorcist. (Hey I grew up on Saturday night Creature Features so that suited me fine) My mom gave me hell when she found out. She felt that was totally inappropriate for my new wife. I never did tell her it was Helena's idea. She grew to love scary movies. She had limits though. She didn't like "wet" movies (her term for overly bloody movies). We went to scary movies, musicals, dramas, comedys. Thankfully she didn't like Romantic Comedy/Drama movies so I was spared having to see that junk. She especially liked the scary ones though. I remember when we went to see the original Halloween. There is a scene where the heroine escapes from the house and Michael Meyers is chasing her. She is trying to get into the house across the street and the kids aren't unlocking the door. The bad guy gets closer and closer. I felt something moving beside me and when I looked I saw Helena had drawn her feet up off the floor and was trying to run herself. Kind of like when a dog dreams he is chasing a animal and his legs move like they are running. She really got into the movies. She also loved comedy movies. She didn't like the sophisticated type of comedy though. Give her a good fart routine and she couldn't stop laughing. As the technology moved ahead so did we. We had a laser disc player (sort of a forerunner to DVD). We bought a DVD player. I made it a tradition that each time she had to spend time in the hospital I would upgrade her TV/Video before she came home. Her TV screens got bigger and bigger. High Definition Blu-ray players came on the scene and we bought in. Each upgrade I would replace her favorite movies with the newer technology. As the years went by her hearing faded a little. She never needed a hearing aid but wanted the sound on the TV played pretty high. So high in fact that we blew her speakers out. I replaced the speakers with new/bigger/stronger ones and promptly blew out the amplifier. So I replaced that. She had a pretty much state of the art system by the time we were finished. She professed to hate "old" movies. What she meant was Black and White movies. For some reason she thought they all sucked. I would occasionally start a black and white movie and ask her to just watch 10 minutes of it. Usually she would stay for the whole movie and love it, but she still would tell people that she hated "old" movies. When she came home for the last time from the nursing home I had been downloading movies for a year or so. For the next 12 months she would name a movie she wanted to see and if we didn't have it (and we had over 1500 titles, both movies and TV shows on disc) we would rent or buy it online. The last two months she was alive she drew into herself a lot and finally settled on only one movie that she watched everyday. (Heaven help me it was a Disney film the old Pollyanna). The single exception was just a week before I had to put her into Hospice. I told her we were going to watch A Million Ways To Die In The West. It is a comedy and there is an extended scene where a gunfight goes wrong when the bad guy has uncontrollable diarrhea. I didn't even know if she was aware of what she was watching or not when I heard her making a strange noise. When I listened more closely I realized that she was laughing at the bad guy. Movies were a big part of her life and something that we shared. I tried to watch one of our favorites last week but couldn't. Not yet. It is still too soon. In our first house we had a lounge type of chair that we both could sit in when we watched TV. That was a fun chair. We could cuddle and smooch during the dull parts of the movie. Our new house didn't have a place for that chair so we had separate chairs. Not as much fun. That "banana chair" as Helena called it was where I learned a valuable lesson. The lesson was that if you tickle a very ticklish woman, and she tells you to stop or she is going to pee, you'd better listen to her. I didn't and got my first and only "golden shower" from my wife. From that day on when ever I would start to tickle her she would just say the words "banana chair" and I would stop immediately. Funny isn't it the places that your mind takes you. I started with movies and ended up wearing a urine soaked jogging suit. So on to todays pictures. Helena's favorite movie star, even more that Shirley Temple, was Marilyn Monroe. This is a picture of her taken outside of the Hollywood Wax Museum with a statue of Marilyn This was in Hollywood in 1977. Next we have two of Helena taken by her dad. The second of today's pictures is from her Graduation Photo shoot. The next shot is Helena in a long dress (very rare) taken in 1974. The fourth shot today was a surprise to me and hopefully will be to you as well. It is another "Helena nude in the bathtub" shot. I don't have the slightest idea which motel this was taken in or when it was taken. Sorry. The fifth picture is Helena resting at 11,000 feet just at the treeline on her way to Blue Lake, her favorite lake in the Rocky Mountains. This was probably in the early 80's. The last picture is another recently discovered portrait. Probably from the mid 70's.

[jdviole2]

This may be the most difficult of all my posts to date because it is the most intimate. I have been considering this for long time now and I have decided to briefly talk about Helena and sex. While it is true that the subject isn't one that I ever considered talking about, I realized that I would be doing Helena a disservice by not telling the story and showing the enormous depth of her love for me and what she was willing to do for me. This will not be a tell all (Sorry folks no graphic details). I will end with a fun story about Helena and one of her "kinks". I briefly mentioned once about her being molested by a male relative when she was just a little girl. I spoke of inappropriate touching. Like many people this experience colored the rest of her life. (If he wasn't already dead I would be tempted to look her relative up for some severe, physical "attitude adjustment") She had a vision of what it meant to be a loving wife. Our "undress rehersal" for marriage (mentioned in an earlier post) proved to both of us that we were compatible in bed. Helena was pretty conventional though. She prefered sex in the bedroom, at night, with the lights off. There were exceptions, when emotions overwhelmed her. I mentioned, the other day, that time on the floor when we were painting the bedroom (though I guess technically that qualifies as conventional since we were in the bedroom at the time). One other memorable occasion was at our first house, on the floor in the living room, with the front door open (don't ask). That time her dad showed up and knocked on the screen door to borrow something. He saw nothing and I don't think he even knew we were doing anything. She deeply wanted to be creative and daring but the past kept interferring. We tried oral but I could see she was getting very upset. She told me that this was something he forced her to do to him. Since she didn't want me doing anything for her that she couldn't give in return to me oral was out. Things were fine for a few years until she developed endometriosis. This caused even normal missionary intercourse to be painful. Surgery didn't help. (It was supposed to help but the doctor, in attempting to "tighten up" things overdid it and made pain a permanent part of the act). The poor kid kept trying. She worried a lot about her not being able to keep me satisified. Movies, TV, and friends had left her with an unrealistic sense of the importance of sex in a relationship. She worried that I might become so unhappy that I would leave her, or start an affair. I tried to tell her that an affair was just too damn much work so she didn't need to worry about that. Of course the joke fell flat. We would go to bed (at her urging) and she would try but it was apparent that she was in pain so we would stop. The year we were trying to bake a baby was very hard on us both. (It is very tough to make love to a woman who is crying in pain the entire time.) One day I came home from work and she was sitting on the couch waiting for me. She told me she need to talk to me about something. Her eyes were red and I could tell she had been crying. That wasn't like her and I didn't know what the hell was going on. She told me I couldn't say anything until she was finished. She then told me she thought I was unhappy with her, and she understood. She said she knew she wasn't satisfying my needs in bed and then said, in a soft whisper, that if I wanted to find a prostitute for that it would be OK with her. I started to talk and she told me to shut up. She said that she thought if I found someone, a pro, who could do all those things that she thought I must want and she couldn't provide then maybe I would be satisified enough to stay with her. She started to say "All I want is..." she then started to cry and finished with "just please always come home to me." Talk about feeling like crap. I pulled her to me and we just lay on the couch for a long time, not talking, until she quit crying. I assured her that I had everything I needed or wanted right there in my own home. She wouldn't or couldn't believe that. She said I deserved someone better than her. She went on and on. Finally she ran down and it was my turn. I told her there were lots of things we could do that didn't involve regular sex. I told her that the only important thing was that she enjoyed what we were doing as much as I did. If she wasn't happy and having fun then I couldn't either. We ended up thinking of a whole menu of erotic things we could do that wouldn't hurt her (or me) and would make both of us feel content. For some reason the "twisted sicko" (my name for him) had never used his fingers on her or asked her to manually finish him. So that activity didn't have a bad connotation for her. I reminded her again that sex was supposed to be fun and we should just play. So for us foreplay turned into five, six, seven, or eightplay. We would spend a very very long time building up. Then we would take care of each other. Then, surprising to me, what turned out to be the best part of all, we would spoon and cuddle and talk. I never felt slighted or deprived. To this day the thought that she loved me so much that she would willingly send me to a hooker to get what she couldn't give me chokes me up and makes my eyes burn. I never had the desire to take her up on her offer. She was more than enough woman for me. Now I don't want to leave you with the idea that our sex life was boring. Just because she couldn't and didn't experiment much didn't mean that she couldn't surprise me occasionally. One Saturday afternoon we were in the bedroom, not even undressed yet, and Helena asked if I would do something for her and not think she was weird. I had no idea what was coming. She blushed a deep red and whispered that she wanted me to spank her. With no hesitation I grabbed her and flipped her over my knee and smacked her jean covered butt. She yelled for me to stop. I expected her to appologize and tell me that she had thought she wanted that but guessed she really didn't. And that would have been OK with me. But she surprised me. She turned her head and blushed an even deeper red (I was surprised that blood wasn't seeping through the pores of her skin). In a really soft voice she said that what she really wanted was a bare butt spanking. I complied. Helena didn't want to be hurt just to have it sting a little. It never was a regular part of our playtime but periodically before we would get undressed she would look at me and start blushing and I knew just what she wanted. I would yank her pants and panties down, put her over my knee, and turn her cheeks red. To this day I am surprised that the neighbors never called the police about the abuse, since I'm certain they could hear her screams clearly enough. There were a few other things related to sex that her relative hadn't ruined for her but I'm afraid those will have to remain my secret. Todays pictures start with a shot of Helena at lunch in the Rocky Mountains. Remember I told you she hated to eat there because of the mountain Jays that wanted some of our food. If you look just above her head you will see a Jay sitting on a branch hoping she will leave some food unattended. Probably taken in 1978 or 9. The next picture is from Helena's dad. She had just turned 18 in this picture and has part of her school uniform on. This was in 1969. The third picture is Helena sitting in front of an arch in Arches National Park. Sometime in the early 80's. The next picture is Helena in Disneyland from the late 70's. the fifth picture is another of the "Helena peeing" shots. She is just getting ready here. She never did hear me any of the times I snuck up on her to take these pictures and so they were always a shock for her to see them in the slideshow. I don't know what year this was taken. The last picture is another of the "lost" portrait shots from mid to late 70's.

[jdviole2]

I think for most married couples the most memorable times are the "firsts". For example. Our first Chistmas in our first house. Helena loved Christmas. There were three kids in the family when she grew up and her dad wasn't a rich man so many of the gifts were practical and only a few were "useless toys". But she loved decorating the house. We didn't drive at the time and both of us were just proud (and stupid) enough to not want to call our parents for rides. Cabs were out due to the expense (my first year my salary was not very high) so we used public transportation and walked where ever we needed to go. We were in walking distance of grocery, drug, and other stores. That first year we walked together to a nearby mall and bought an artificial tree and ornaments. By the time we got home we were both worn out. After resting for a little while we went out again and back to the mall. We finished buying the ornaments and lights and cards to send (another first as a couple) and trudged home again. We had one more trip to make that day this time by bus to a more expansive mall to start shopping for each other. We never set limits on ourselves as to how much to spend. We took whatever free money we had and split it 50/50. Then we would head for the mall and both go our own ways. We would store our purchases in lockers at the mall and then when it was time to go home would retrieve the gifts and divide up the bags to carry home. The next day it was back to the mall again and more shopping. I can't remember how many days we spent shopping both for ourselves and parents/friends. That first year Helena wanted to set up the tree early. So, setting a precedent for further years, we put the tree and other decorations up just after Thanksgiving. Oh did we have fun. Watching Helena decorate a tree was a pure joy. She would agonize over placement of each ornament and would sometimes change positions a dozen times before she was satisified. She was so happy. It took almost the whole day to get the tree the way she wanted and the rest of the decorating in the living room just perfect. Then we shut off the lights, turned on the tree, and cuddled together on the couch and just admired her handywork. That may well have been the happiest we ever were. I know Helena always used that as the example of a perfect time we had together. Then we would spend the next several weeks wrapping and placing the presents. Both of us would tease the other by only putting one or two gifts a day under the tree. That first year her big gift was a synthetic star sapphire and real diamond ring. It was her favorite of all her jewelry. I probably saw that ring on her finger more that any other. And there were many others. Helena loved jewelry. I always wished I was a rich man so I could have covered her in jewels. As it was I would buy her a new piece of jewelry for every Christmas. Some were genuine stones some were man made. All the diamonds were real. She owned over 50 rings of all kinds. Two months before she died she spent an entire afternoon taking each of the rings out of their boxes, cleaning them, and putting them on. The second Christmas I bought her a stereo. She loved listening to music while she worked. The good news was that we were within a mile of an electronics store. The bad news is that speakers are HEAVY. That is one time I should have taken a cab but didn't. It took four trips. One each for the two speakers and one each for the turntable and amplifier. I hid those in the basement until Christmas eve and then after she was in bed brought it upstairs and assembled it so it was there in the morning. She kept adding traditions to our Christmas until the complete celebration took over a month, start to finish. For Helena the saddest day of the year was the day we had to take down the tree and put all the decorations away. Helena's birthday was another occasion that over the years got more and more elaborate until it became a "birthday week". (Helena wanted to go for Birthday Month but I finally put my foot down). The "week" included special meals, and fun things to do, culminating in the grand present opening. I tried each year to top the year before but that became very hard to do. One of the years that she really loved was the great treasure hunt. I hung balloons all over the living room and gave her a pin. One at a time she had to pop a balloon. Some were filled with confetti so they threw stuff all over the room. Some contained hand written gift certificates good for dinner, or a movie, or something else I knew she would like. Then some had hand written clues as to where she would find one of her presents. It took hours to finish the treasure hunt. In some of the balloons were parts of a map. She had to accumulate all the pieces to find her ultimate present (I tried each Birthday and Christmas to have one "great" gift). The map directed her to the garage where she found two 6 foot tall curio cabinets to display her collections in. She hated that fact that she never could seem to come up with anything like that for my birthdays. I always told her (and meant every word) that each day with her was like my birthday and Christmas rolled into one. That sounds sappy but I meant every word and still do. Just waking up in the morning facing her and seeing her sleep made me happier than any gift ever could. No matter how crappy my day at work I only had to see her smile and it all went away. Like I talked about yesterday she always worried about my happiness being married to her. If she could see me now I think she would finally believe what I told her for all those years. I'm not happy now. Not happy like I used to be. What I wouldn't give to feel her in the bed next to me, to see her sleeping there, to hear her snore again. (Yes Helena, I said snore. She denied it but she could wake the dead with that snore.) It feels more like I am visiting this house how instead of living there. It doesn't seem like mine, because of course it wasn't mine, it was ours. Half of me is gone, never to be replaced. Well lets get to the pictures. First is Helena near a restaurant (I think.) in Michigan (I think) in the early 80's. The second picture is one from Helena's dad in 1974. Third is another shot of Helena in Arches National Park from the late 70's. Number four is Helena and the fall color in Colorado from around 1979/80. Number five looks like Helena is attempting some weird yoga position but is simply trying to take a nice, quiet, unobserved, pee. As usual I was there to document the occasion. The last picture is what maybe the final bikini picture. Though I think there is at least one picture of her in a bikini I made for her, I can't seem to find it. This is from 1975.

[jdviole2]

Today I am going to expand on my descriptions of the photos and tell some short Helena stories in connection with each of those. The first one does not include Helena but relates to yesterdays post. It shows one of our Christmas's together. The hangings on the wall were hand made by Helena and I and the three angels on the right side of the picture were ceramic's that were hand painted by Helena. Looking at this picture I can't believe all the gifts we used to buy each other. (Yes those ALL are for just the two of us.) The shot is in the living room of our first house. The window behind the tree is the one that Helena was standing naked in front of in one of her nude photos. You can just see the edge of the diamond shaped mirror (on the left side of the picture) that also figure into some of her nude pictures. The couch that she posed on is against the wall on the right but was positioned under the hanging light for her nudes. The second picture today shows Helena washing her hands in a stream in the mountains. The dog walking along the stream is Houligan. We had some friends that moved to Colorado. Before they moved they ordered a dog from a local breeder. When the puppy was old enough Helena and I decided to pick up the dog and drive him halfway to Colorado. We met our friends at a reststop on the interstate and made the transfer after lunch. Helena hated to see him go. She had held him the entire 200 miles we had to drive while she slept in her lap. She had fallen deeply in love by the time we got to the reststop. Our friends already had one old dog and they brought her along. She got along great while we were having lunch but our friend told us that on the way back to Denver the older dog kept staring at our friends almost like she was saying "Hey they forgot their damn dog. Don't tell me WE have to take him". The two dogs ended up being good friends. Helena loved getting to see him when we would go out to visit and hike. The third picture is of a much younger Helena. It was taken at a local fair in Michigan where she grew up. She had once told me about having cotton candy that was half as big as she was. I, of course, figured she was greatly exagerating the size of the goodie. When her father died we took all the family pictures home with us. While looking at all the pictures I found this one and showed it to her. She looked at me with a very smug expression and said "I told you so". I couldn't argue. While not half as big as her it is awfully close. I have many pictures of her at that fair or others like it. Riding the rides, and eating of course. I even have her first "nude" photos. Taken when she was about 2 standing up in a bath tub. Of course I can't show you those. I have some others that I will post at a future time. It is interesting (to me at any rate) to see the expressions that I saw everyday on such a small, young face. The fourth picture shows Helena in one of our motel rooms (in Colorado) eating breakfast before getting ready for a mountain hike. Though we both loved to eat a good breakfast (a full English breakfast, as they say) we never did if we were planning a long hike. The round tin on the bed is full of brownies. My grandmother, and after she passed away (at 99) my mother would make brownies for us to take on vacation with us. Homemade fudge brownies, with a marshmallow topping and a swirl of chocolate frosting. We ate them at breakfast and for a snack. Helena is drinking her morning coffee. We used to take an imersion heater with us and she would have to have her cup of hot coffee every morning. I hate hot drinks and settled for a cold coke. The thought of that almost made her sick. The somewhat sour expression on her face is her normal "morning" face. Helena was NOT a morning person. (She wasn't an night person either). She functioned best from 10 AM thru 9 PM. Any other time, forget it. I, on the other hand am a night person (I always claim to be part vampire since I don't really come to life until after sundown) but am able to function well in the morning too. From waking up to full speed ahead only takes me about 5 minutes. Helena hated that. The next picture is Helena and our first cat, Scamper, when he was just a kitten. She had wanted a cat for a long time but I wasn't sure. I had two bad experiences with cats (scratching and being bitten in the neck) and really didn't want to take a chance again. Finally though I realized that she really wanted a kitten. We went to a pet shop near us (we were driving by this time). Helena only insisted on two things that the cat be a short hair and a female. The shop had a batch of kittens sharing a open pen. All of them were running around and playing, rough housing each other. All except this one cat that was sitting at the edge of the pen looking up at us. Helena fell in love. Obviously this cat was more interested in people than in the other cats. I pointed out to her that the cat was a long hair. She thought for a minute and decided she could handle that. Then I took a look. I told her that the cat was a male also. (FYI sexing of kittens is VERY hard to do. No genitals are visible yet and you are dependent on judging the spacing between two openings on the cats bottom. I know kind of gross). The owner of the shop, in a very superior sounding voice, informed me that I was wrong and it was a female. There was a lot of back and forth between the two of us. Finally I told Helena that the cat was a male and if she could deal with that then she could have him. If she really didn't want a male then we weren't going to take the cat. The owner of the store freaked out and kept insisting it was female. I told her she was wrong and should just keep quiet while Helena decided. She kept quiet but I think it was more out of shock than anything else. Helena said she thought she could deal with it. So we brought him home. She named him Scamper because of the way he "scampered" around the house. We took him for his first health check. Helena asked the question, "male or female". I had all fingers and toes crossed. The vet looked and without hesitation said "oh obviously a male". I was right. She did all the scratching post training, and other training. (Side note here: I had house broken many dogs and was not looking forward to doing the same with the cat. When I watched as he climbed into the litter box and went by himself I was sold on cats. After that I always refered to it as the cat being "preloaded with software".) He was with us for fourteen years. If this was a pets thread I could write for hours about him but I guess I need to return to Helena. The next picture is Helena relaxing in the front room of our second house. This is kind of a hard picture to look at. I am staring this very minute at the same pillow she is resting her arm on. The glass she is drinking from is in a cupboard in the kitchen. It came from her mom and dad's house. I still use it. Though the picture hanging on the wall is not there anymore it is stored in a closet in a spare bedroom and I see it from time to time. The smile is one that I have seen many times and still is the expression I most see when I dream of her, which is almost every night. One last bonus picture. This was taken by Helena's dad in the summer of 1973 the day after we got engaged. I had come over to ask his permission to marry Helena. He wanted to take our picture and I'm glad he did. I don't have many pictures of the two of us together and this is one of my favorites. By the way even though she was 22 and didn't need permission it just seemed the right thing to do. And thats it for today.