Watching Trains and Taking Pictures

            Jenna had taken an art class last week. We’ve been taking TRAX of course.  It’s funny about that form of transportation.  Streetcars could be seen in downtown Salt Lake back in the late 30s.  I don’t know when the city decided to rip all the rail lines out.  So many changes have taken place through the years.

For over half a century the streetcars and rails had been done away with in downtown Salt Lake. The garage that had been used to house the trolleys has since been turned into a shopping center.

Meanwhile the rails have been re-dotting the Salt Lake map for the last two decades. Some existed from when the Union Pacific was built (I think) but most have been added by Utah Transit Authority.

The Union Pacific Building gradually changed from cargo trains to Amtrax.  (I remember having gone to it a few times to meet my grandma) The building  is now the entrance to Gateway Mall.  

For the most part we had come home as soon as class was over, but on Thursday we had gone out to see my sister and her kids.  Roland works late on Thursdays and so I am never in a hurry to go home. 

Jenna and I had been reading a book and had neared the end.  I asked her if we could finish up at the library and turn the book in.  On our way to the train Jenna felt the need to play in the water and I felt the need to take pictures. 

Jenna took this picture of me in front of two dead trains.  That really is the end of the line – though the tracks are a couple of yards from where the train station is located.  Trains don’t generally go that far.  In fact, I hadn’t ever seen trains behind the sign until the past year or so.

            Trains had pulled into the station announcing, “End of the Line – as far as we go” and then would remain stopped for 15 minutes – which was kind of nice.  But now the train stays four minutes max before it pulls out again – which I think would make it more convenient for UTA – but as a passenger I think I preferred the 15 minute stopover.  But I do think it is less costly for UTA to just leave and not stop for 15 minutes.  But that is just a guess on my part.

            I have seen up to three cars on a blue line train (the first UTA train line that was created) but it has always been just two on the green line.  I have never seen three nor have I seen just only one – until shortly after the above picture was taken.

            Jenna was playing in the fountains and drenching herself while I watched the train cars pulling in and out of the station. I noticed a single car on the opposite side of where we usually catch it.  I thought since there was only one car that it would be pulled into the spot behind where I stood (where the dead trains were parked).

            A two car train pulled in – or perhaps there were three. I hadn’t counted.  I had told Jenna that the train was coming. Just then Roland called and offered to come get us – which thrilled Jenna to no end as it gave her more time to play in the water.  She should have been a mermaid.  

Because Roland said that he would come and meet us, we had no reason to walk to the train. I was surprised to see the longer of the two trains (the one we would have walked toward) pull around and head to where the dead trains were.  I heard a voice announce that the green line train would be departing and watched passengers board the single car before it departed out onto the street. 

            “How weird,” I thought. I’ve never seen a single car with passengers.  But than again, I don’t generally ride nor watch the trains that late.

            The two or three car train that had gone toward the dead trains was heading back to the station – this time with five cars attached.  I’ve never seen five cars attached to a UTA train – ever.  I tried to get a picture, but could not manage all five cars in just one frame.  

            Jenna had moved herself from the fountain stairs to the mechanical river – which was actually closer to the library where Roland said he would meet us.  The final dead car pulled out around about 8:00 or so.  We should have been home already.  I have never hung around Fairbourne that late and don’t know if it’s a regular routine or if I was seeing something out of the ordinary.  I know the trains run later than 8:00.  Perhaps as it was getting later, only single cars were needed and that the rest had been returned to the train yard or the garage.

 

            Perhaps on Monday we will collect Jenna’s cousins and take them to Fairbourne to play in the fountain for a while.  I will have to tell Kayla to put their swim wear on beneath their clothes so that they are somewhat dry for the return home.  That is generally when Gary goes to sleep.  And sometimes Anna, too.

Mommy, Take My Picture!

She seemed fascinated

with the toilet.  I thought

she’d train early. 

She didn’t.

She took off

after she turned one. 

How cool to

move herself

with her feet, to go

from room to room. 

To explore. 

                                                      She collected balls and rocks.

Whenever we’d go

out walking she would climb

on fire hydrants and

pick up anything

she found in her path. 

She loved roly-polys. 

They resembled small balls. 

She did attempt

to put one in her mouth.

                                            She collected whatever she could carry.

She started preschool

when she was three. 

We’d walk to school. 

She would balance

on the way, walking over walls

as though she was on a tightrope. 

I would entertain her

with imitations of circus music

and emcee her “daring moves”

and I would take her picture

She dawdled

as she explored every yard

between our house and the school. 

                                                    She collected rocks and pinecones.

She loved each season

and enthusiastically greeted

anything that was new. 

The wind,

crunching leaves,

sleds,

snow banks,

blossoms,

snails

 fascinated with

every part of nature. 

                                                    She collected rocks and leaves.

Today she dawdles

much as she did when

she was three.  She explores

whatever God has created. 

She climbs trees and

snow banks and continues

to make snow angels. 

She continues to

balance on walls as she did

when she was three

and asks for me to make the sounds

of the circus as she performs

on her “tightrope” and ask

"Mommy, Will you take my picture?"

                                             She collects Pokémon cards and rocks

She will stand on top of

 rocks and stumps and ask me

to take her picture

lying on balls and

fire hydrants still exploring

as she had when

she was three

                                                        She now gives her rocks faces.

Perhaps the Background Will Tell You

I’m a close-up – zoom-in-on-the-face type of gal.  But as I tackle my new project of cropping over 900 photos (It might be to a thousand) I have caught myself looking at things in the background.  Particularly in the old photographs.  Dads Bel Air Coupe, the yard we’re standing in, the couch before it was reupholstered, when there was a kitchen wall with window and no back room, etc.

Sometimes the background will offer a clue as to what year it was taken.  And if there is a Christmas tree, I would say it’s safe to guess the picture was taken in December.  And if I find a date or place on one photo and I see we are wearing the exact same things in another, I think it’s safe to assume the two may have been taken at the same time.

My paternal grandmother designed her house – created the way she wanted it to look.  And then one day she had to give it up and move into a condo that was closer to where I lived.  I could and did ride my bike to grandma’s condo on occasion.  I missed her house though.  I missed the space.  I missed the discoveries.

Grandma sold her house after my baby brother and cousin were born.  We have pictures of them both wearing yellow – babbling in turn as though they were having a conversation.  Although only one month apart, Edmund was twice as big as Corey.  Corey looked more like a doll next to Edmund.

I wish my younger cousins and siblings could have enjoyed grandma’s house and be able to share in the same memories as Patrick and I as well as two of our cousins.  When you’re little, you somehow believe things will last forever. Even when you’re not so little.  When you’ve had something as part of your life on a daily basis that you somehow take it for granted that it will always remain.

And now I face the same nostalgic challenge with my own mom’s house.  The house I grew up in.  The house that will belong to somebody else and become more of a distant memory for me and my sibs and our children.  Kayla’s two children won’t remember it at all.

We used to have a door with a window built into it.  I’d forgotten about that.  I was reminded when I looked at a photo with some ugly curtains hanging over where the window was.  I loved that window.  I was sad when we had to replace the door.  A peep hole isn’t near as exciting as an entire window.

Often it is the backgrounds that help me decide when the photo might have been taken.  I know approximately when we added the back room.  I don’t remember when we replaced the back door – or why.  

I had included this picture in an earlier post.

You know how sometimes you can get your picture taken at a certain attraction and you can obtain a copy of that photo on t-shirt, keychain, mug or what have you.  Back when this picture was taken, the draw was to have it made into a postcard.  It was through this photo that mom recognized the same background as the one in possession of my neighbors.  Turns out that his dad and my great uncle were pals.  Because of the background and putting the pieces of the puzzle together, we were able to identify who each person was.  Before the background discovery, our neighbor’s had never known who the little boy was on the grandfather’s lap.  Turned out to be my uncle Dick.  And this is of my great uncle and paternal grandmother.

I had also found a photo of Patrick in which he was sitting at a pavilion which to me looked like Hogel Zoo – but as there are several pavilions all throughout the world, I had no way of knowing for sure if it even was a zoo or a park or family vacation or a day trip or what.

As I continued through the photos, I found one of Patrick, Kayla and me in front of the seal display.  Patrick was wearing the same ugly shirt which he had been wearing in the pavilion.  So I think it is Hogel Zoo – and Kayla appears to be five or six and so that gives me an  year.

We may have felt stylish in the 70’s – but we weren’t.  It seems somewhat embarrassing to look at what we wore. ALL of us – even our conservative dad who kept his crew cut for many years and had not parted with his plaid sports coat until death.

I’m sure there’s more to come as I continue to crop and organize and rename and file.  Driving myself down memory lane.  Smiling occasionally with each memory while shedding tears with others realizing it will only be a memory now.  The house hasn’t been the same for the last year – especially for mom. It hasn’t been mine for over ten years now.  But now it’s more permanent.  It won’t belong to any of us.  It will become a thing of the past.

Nostalgic Reminders, Scanning Photos

          Shortly after my mom had Corey, she went to a Relief Society activity where the sisters were making ceramic picture frames.  They were decorative white oval frames with gold spray touch up.  They would then house all of the 8X10 school (and pre - school) portraits which came home with us.

In order to make them fit into the frame, mom would cut the corners of our school photos and tape them to the back of the frame.  By the time Kayla came along, another frame had to be added.   

It wasn’t quite the same.  The mold itself seemed to match but rather than white with gold spray, it came out more like white and gold mixed producing an antique white or an ugly urinated looking almond/cream type color.

The frames were arranged in a circle.  I think I was at the top.  My brothers at either side and Kayla’s yellow frame at the bottom. Over the years mom would update the photos – even after we each got married and left the nest.  For a while they were displayed over the stairs.  Unfortunately each of us seemed to bump into them.  Eventually one did get knocked down and broke. 

A new frame was purchased.  But it wasn’t ceramic. It was still the same oval shape as the rest.  But it appeared to be wooden – though I don’t think it was (is).  Patrick’s photo was put into the new frame as he had been responsible for the broken one.  His picture hung at the bottom.

Kayla’s frame got moved to be over my photo which remained at the top with Corey and Kayla on either side.  After we added a room to the house, the photos and frames were moved to a wall next to the sliding door and remained there until last week – just before the move to assisted living.

Sunny had taken down all the photos to put them up in mom’s new room.  Sunny did an awesome job with decorating and arranging the photos.  It is one of her MANY talents. 

Corey wanted the photos and photo albums and shoeboxes of photos and so forth.  I offered to scan them for everybody.  I have found most of his school (and before school) pictures.  I had scanned most of mine already – though not as many 8X10.    

Many of those school portraits came out with a more butchered shape than some others.  Funny to go through them now and have all these cornerless school portraits.  I’ve scanned them as they’re the largest.  I find the wallets don’t always transfer with the pixel difference.

There was a power surge last night.  The breaker switch went off twice.  I stopped scanning after the second time.  And now my machine doesn’t want to scan.  I hope Roland’s got the magic touch to make it work.  I still have so much left to scan.

I’m not going to do all the baby pictures of me.  Good grief!  How many baby pictures does one need?  I mean – I realize that babies grow fast and are forever changing.  But that’s day to day – week to week.  I just don't find it necessary for me to hang onto 27 photos that were obviously taken during the same 12 minutes.

For the most part I enjoyed being in the spotlight.  The camera became my friend and I embraced it.  Perhaps I hogged in the glory as I do believe there may be more pictures of me than my other three sibs put together.  I know for a fact that there are many more pictures of each of us than of Patrick.  If it weren’t for school pictures, we'd have even less.

As a child, Patrick hated getting his picture taken.  Or maybe my parents just got bored with photographing their baby on a daily basis.  It is uncanny how many of his older photos look just like Kayla’s two children.  It is also weird to see how major blond we both were.  I don’t even remember Patrick ever being blonde.  But we have evidence.

The photos are not being scanned in any certain order.  I will sort it in the computer – except for the ones I don’t scan – and there have been lots.  And with the mother lode of baby photos I just retrieved of myself – I certainly don’t want to scan all of those.

Corey said he wanted the originals, but I ended up with seven piles – three which I’d be giving to him.  Anything related to Kayla in one pile, anything to do with Patrick and his family in one pile, anything to do with me or my family, every other photo went into a box (for Corey) after I scanned it.  

 And then there was the pile of either scenes or unfamiliar faces that I didn’t scan that went into an envelope marked “Not Scanned” and the final pile went into the garbage initially – but Corey said he wanted ALL of them.  Oh, right.  We’ll just see about that.

Mom was horrible at marking photos.  HORRIBLE.   She doesn’t remember things.  How could she possibly identify the people in the photos now?  I did manage to scan some photos last night (before the power surge/scan mess up) of a group of people on the beach.  I don’t know how many total.  I chose a few of them to scan and email to a few of mom’s friends to ask if they could identify the people in the photos.

One has not only answered, but enthusiastically thanked me for the trip down memory lane.  So I now have names for Corey. I don’t know that having the names will have all that much meaning for him.  He may not want them.  If that’s the case perhaps I should send some of the originals to Erin?  I wonder if she’d even want them.

I’m not through.  I haven’t even made a dent.  It would take so much longer if I weren’t so selective.  I would have started out more selective if I had taken the time with it.  This project I’ve assigned myself is huge.  But I think it will be worth it.

Corey’s got the largest house of my mom’s four children.  He has no clue what he’ll be doing with everything he took back – or is taking back rather.  He’s still on the road right now.  Still in Utah, I’m sure.  And may be for some time.  He still has to drive through that icy canyon.  The department of transportation said they haven’t seen this kind of weather for over 30 years.  I don’t recall ever having seen it – not in Utah anyway.

Well, those are today’s thoughts.  I will be going through pictures and labeling the backs of them and sorting them into what will be scanned and what won’t.

I’ve also come across an attempted biography I had done on my very first word processor.  A "Brothers" that I truly loved.  The printer was less than desirable.  It seems almost humorous to look at the print right now. 

Perhaps I will challenge myself and typing skills and type it into Word.  I saved it upon floppy disc initially.  But I don’t have access to a Brother’s Word Processor so that I may open it.  Well if I still had one.  I find that floppy discs haven’t worked out all that well for me.  I had saved many throughout the years.  I threw them all out just a couple of years ago.

More to come.  May not be soon, however. It is kind of fun going down memory lane. But some things that were saved have turned out quite pathetic from my point of view.  My 50 year old point of view as opposed to my naïve twenties.  Boy, was I clueless growing up.

Thoughts for Today’s Post

          I took Highness for a walk for the first time this month.  Poor dog.  (I've been going to mom's, trying to assist at Jenna's school or the cannery and Biff has taken on two full time jobs leaving Highness somewhat neglected)
          The weather has been awesomely beautiful once the sun is out.  When it’s down, it can get quite cold. But during the day – I often get hot and will turn the heat off and open a window.

                                                    

          I don’t recall a November ever where I could get away with wearing just a sweatshirt over my clothes.  But then we had wonderful weather last Christmas.  I took a picture of Jenna in some new clothes that had been sent – she was outside by the pine tree.  No coat. 

          I was taking pictures on a daily basis for about a week and had posted them to facebook with date attached.  It snowed hard by nightfall on the 26^th and some pictures looked like the typical postcard Christmas of Utah.  But we had lots of “no coat” days as well.  Now that was bizarre.

          I remember a few Aprils when it had snowed.  There was one day in 2003 when there was quite a bit of snow actually.

          Ooki had come to us at the end of August 2002.  He asked if he would need to buy boots for the winter.  We’d been experiencing craziness of weather for the last decade at least, and I told him that if he made a purchase toward some boots that he might not ever need them, but if he didn’t buy the boots, then he would definitely need them.

          Ooki chose to ease the hardship of shoveling snow and whatever else is hated about the winter season as he bought himself not only a heavy coat but a pair of boots as well.  He did use the coat for four or five months – often with his flip flops, but only wore the boots twice that I remember.  And I don’t remember if that day in April was one of them.

          I took my three boys to the park. Ooki did not go with us – I think because of other obligations.  Ooki was rarely at home just to be home.  If we had something specific going – he made effort to be there.  But our going to the park was spontaneous.  And perhaps he just didn’t like the idea of the snow.  I can’t remember.

          We didn’t have a toboggan.  The boys took a long piece of cardboard, some plastic covering that had fallen from our covered car port, and Randy’s dune buggy (that one I still don’t understand) and used them to slide down the hill.  And I took a couple of rolls of pictures (though digital did exist – not in my possession) and probably would have tons more if Ooki had gone with us (he took tons of pictures; even posted them on his website which I don’t think he even has any more)

         The snow had completely melted by the next day.

          I really wish there was a way to stop the weather the way it is right now – and just keep it all year round.  Nothing warmer.  Definitely nothing colder.  No snow – at least on my roads.  No ice.  Spectacular elements.  That would really be sweet.

          Yesterday I was at my mom’s.  She must own a thousand books.  Over a hundred in her backroom.  And I would guess more than twice that in the spare room.  Some in her front room.  Some collectables.  Though not most. 

          I think there are three or four members who would be willing just to throw them all always – not even donate them.  Just get rid of them.  And I’m certain there are tons that Corey would like to have.  And he is probably the only one who would have room to house them.

          My main interest right now is the Norman Rockwell book that is too big to be shelved and too heavy to put on one’s lap.  If Corey can make a nice home for it, he can have it.  Otherwise I would like it.  I really like Norman Rockwell.

          On Friday mom and I will have lunch with a friend that we haven’t seen for over 30 years.  I don’t think mom will remember her.  But maybe once we get to talking?  She and mom used to watch each other’s children.  Or her two oldest girls would come over and babysit Patrick and me.  Corey doesn’t remember as he was only a toddler when they moved.

          I guess that’s all I have to say right now.  I have some organizing to do.