Down Memory Lane

I have always...at least as long as I can remember...loved trains. So a trip to Chicago to visit my Aunt Cora AND to catch a visit with my son, Joe, needed to start with a train ride.

After an early start, I rested quite a while, but woke as we were passing fabulous recycling facilities. There were car bodies stacked 5 high on pallets, engines, wheels. There were piles of crushed concrete, chopped up rubber, glass, sewer piles, and lampposts. I saw mobile home frames and camper shells, cardboard and plastic smashed into giant cubes cubes and stacked in rows. I LOVE recycling!!!

Later, a gray view of Lake Michigan while I read a novel. Yes, me, reading a novel!
I LOVE NOT DRIVING to Chicago!

I spent the day with my Aunt, and after some goodbyes the next morning, I headed into the city via the commuter train line to visit my son and his friends that he was visiting. Joe and I took a little trip to the neighborhood where my grandparents lived. In my previous post, there is a picture of my family standing in front of my Grandma and Grandpa's home in 1956. Here it is about 57 years later. It felt so familiar!

My Grandpa Jim had had it built to his specifications in 1940. The stone around the front door, the bay window, the decorative set of the bricks along the corners, and the glass block windows. I am honored to be the keeper of the original blueprints and purchase records. I spent a lot of time in that house and yard as a child. It was a real treat to go back and see it again and to see how well it has been kept.

The next day, Joe and I went into the Loop via the "L" and the subway. This is something I used to do often with my grandparents when I was young.

I would stand in the very front of the first car and look out the window. And since the sound was deafening when the train was moving, I would sing at the top of my lungs with no concerns of being scolded for being too loud!

I'm so grateful to have had the time and help from others to be able to get in some family visits and a trip down Memory Lane just before Thanksgiving time. Thank you, everyone!

Happy Birthday, Grandma Gertie!

Today, in honor of the 110th anniversary of my Grandma Gertie's birthday, I hung my laundry in the basement. As a child, I spent many a rainy day roller skating in my Grandma's basement to the music on the Victrola, weaving in and out of her freshly washed clothes all hanging on the lines. She had a fabulous wringer washer; nothing more that a tub with an "on and off" switch for agitation and an attached wringer through which she would feed the dripping wet clothes repeatedly until they were ready for the line.

Grandma Gertie, aka Gertrude Anna Murray, was born on November 18, 1893 in Chicago, Illinois. She was my mother's mother, and the Grandma I knew best. She married Grandpa Jim in 1919, then raised two children, ran the household, and later often cared for all 5 grandkids. Here we are in April 1956. My mom is on the far right with Grandma next to her. I'm the short one, about 3-1/2 years old. Then my half-brother, Brian, three cousins: Kathy, Marge, and "little Jim" in front, and my Grandpa Jim on the far left. Grandma's hair may have still been brown then, but I only remember it all gray.

Grandma Gertie was always old to me, yet ageless. She had a great humor, loved to play the fool, would sing and dance in the kitchen with the broom, burned the toast every morning (no automatic toasters then) and made fried chicken unparalleled to this day. Here she is in 1982 with my son, Joseph. Not sure who was having more fun!

This is my last picture of Grandma Gertie taken in November 1985. She died in December that year. I've long studied this picture. At first glance she seems tired; like she was ready to go. And yet there is the tiniest hint of a smile, I think, like maybe she knew some secrets that only someone who had lived a full life of 92 years could know. Hey, Gram, would you whisper a few of those secrets to me in my sleep tonight?

Goodbye, Panasonic

Anyone who knows me at all, knows that I have a thing about getting every bit of usefulness out of the things I own. So it's no surprise that the vacuum that was bought on June 12, 1986, was with me until today.

This old Panasonic vacuum worked well until 2003 with few repairs. Then the motor just wore out, and it was no longer advantageous to fix. But did I get rid of it then? Of course not! I knew that the vacuum at Morning Glory cabin was a twin of my vacuum, so I saved mine for parts. And I used quite a few over the last 10 years.

During my cleaning frenzy today, I realized that there really wasn't anything more that could be scavenged that would be helpful, so I said goodbye...mostly. The motor and a few other parts will be going to metal recycling later this week!

It may not be too long before a similar fate befalls my VCR, also from 1986. Of course the Maytag washer and dryer from 1974 are still hanging in there, as is my 2001 Saturn which now has 266,880 miles on it as of today. Eventually, they'll all end up with most of them going to metal recycling. They have all served me well, and owe me nothing at this point. Thank you, old mechanical friends!

Band Competition

This post is especially for my daughter, Karen. Around 20 years ago, I remember standing at my upstairs bedroom window in Ionia, MI, at 8 am hearing the high school band practicing on the field that half mile or so away. I loved the sound, just because I love music, but also because it warmed my heart and made me feel connected knowing that my Karen was helping make that music I was hearing.

To the present...So a few weeks ago, some of us from choir went into Reed City for a local band competition. I lost the program and don't know the area schools that well, so this first group shall remain unnamed for now. Enjoy!

This one is Cadillac High School. I remembered because I couldn't imagine, as a mom, dealing with white uniforms!

It seems band performances have changed over the last 20 years. Many were much more like a show choir performance than what I think of as a marching band performance. But don't get me wrong, I like the changes! It was wonderful to enjoy after all these years, to think back to those sweltering hot and freezing cold performances of Karen's, remembering her forcing her long hair to all fit under her shako (band hat), and just the excitement of seeing my daughter marching down the street or across the field with her bandmates.