WPC – Time

“How did it get so late so soon?”
― Dr. Seuss

I remember playing for hours at a time and the days seemed endless.  Looking back it was dream like and it was called childhood.

“Time is a game played beautifully by children.”
― Heraclitus, Fragments

When my son was in his teens I remember him asking me very seriously, “When did time start moving so fast?”  A very good question.

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As for me, I think I instinctually knew this.  I started capturing moments when I was in Junior High.  Now that’s a term that will date you.  I still have photos from then.  I carried on through my family.  My youngest referred to me as the Paparazzi before he renamed me the Warden.  But we all love pictures and how it captures Time.  Moments of Happiness and every other emotion.  Pictures of our youth.

“Time is what we want most,but what we use worst.”
― William Penn

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There were always photos in piles around the house and visitors and family would flip though them and share memories and laugh and sigh over the passage of time.  A photo of my father when he was still functioning okay (Huntington’s Disease) with my son and me.  Grandchildren, weddings, births…

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I have always referred to the boards above as photo boards, but it could also be the timeline of my life.  The people, places and times that have touched my heart.

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When my grandchildren and children come to visit, they always make a point of visiting the boards.  The grandchildren will pick a photo out and ask questions or laugh because they remember when it was taken.

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Many times I will find one of my children examining the board and hear a chuckle and hear them call over one of their children and share a memory. This is my own personal Facebook and it covers the memorable and lovely times in my life.

As usual, I think Dr. Seuss said it best:

“How did it get so late so soon? It’s night before it’s afternoon. December is here before it’s June. My goodness how the time has flewn. How did it get so late so soon?”
― Dr. Seuss


I remember…

Fourteen years ago today… it was a Tuesday.  School was in session.  There were 5th graders in the computer lab.  We were busy at work, students chattering on task and off.  A typical morning.  And then Sister walked in.  My first thought was she was here to observe, but something about her demeanor clued me in it was more than that.  She hurried over and in a whisper asked me to turn on the television.  The television was located in the teacher workspace and was facing away from the students.  I turned it on and was immediately confused and horrified.  Was this really happening?

On the screen I saw the scene we all have etched in our memories.  The Twin Towers under attack.  One of the towers had already been hit.  There was smoke everywhere.  We stood speechless.  Watching.  Horrified.  Helpless.  Not believing what we were seeing, but knowing it was true.  And then, another plane seemed to slowly plow into the other tower.  We both cried out and the students looked up.  I went over to them and moved around the room checking on their progress.  Needing a few minutes to compose myself.  The students finished their work and filed back to their classrooms.

Sister and I stood together and watched the horrific scene unfold.  News of another plane in Washington D.C.  And another airplane unaccounted for.  What was happening?  One airplane is a tragic accident.  Four?  Are there more?  How do we handle this with the students?  Do we make an announcement?

Luckily, the school was a Catholic School, located next to a church.  We were encouraged to make use of the Adoration Chapel to reflect and pray.  And we all did.

I also remember how it was in the months following.  The unity, the caring, the sharing of a country unified together.  It is sad that it takes a tragedy to unite people together.

I remember…

Share Your World – Week #32

I have to say, I love the questions this week.  Thank you, Cee!

  • Are you a collector of anything?  While one could say I am a collector of fabric and yarn, I consider that stash.  I could part with them and it would cause me no pain… I would, however, have to go out and get more so I could continue knitting and quilting.  The truth is, I am a collector of memories.  Whether through photos, or just in my mind.  I am very good at pulling up tidbits of moments in the past.  My  grandchildren like it.  They like to hear about those moments when their fathers were young and, of course, made mistakes.  I have had school friends that wonder how I remember all of the moments.  I thought everyone did.  It is a gift this ability to collect and share memories.

“Memories, even your most precious ones, fade surprisingly quickly. But I don’t go along with that. The memories I value most, I don’t ever see them fading.”
― Kazuo Ishiguro, Never Let Me Go

  • What is your biggest fear or phobia?  While I am not overly fond of spiders or snakes or the necessary “icky” inhabitants of our world, it is definitely not a phobia.  I’m not sure I have one… at least nothing pops immediately to mind and I would think a phobia would.  I long feared losing a child.  I would watch the path of a plane on the computer until I knew it landed safely.  I worried when they were young that something might happen that I could not control and they might be hurt.

“Lucy: Do you think you have Pantophobia, Charlie Brown?
Charlie: I don’t know, what is pantophobia?
Lucy: The fear of Everything.
Charlie: THAT’S IT!!!”
― Charles M. Schulz

  • Do you prefer reading coffee table books, biographies, fiction, non-fiction, educational?  I would have to say yes to all of them.  I read almost anything.  I usually have two to three books going at a time.
  • Complete this sentence:  If I Must Be Reincarnated In the Next Life I want to Be…   This is so easy… a Weatherwoman.  No pressure.  You can be right and you are a hero or you can be wrong and it’s not your fault… nobody has any expectations of you being right.
    Oh, I need to be serious?  Well, in all seriousness I have faith that I will be put where I am needed to try and learn what I need to learn and to teach and share what is needed.  Life is an adventure and to live it fully we must accept gracefully what is given and work our way through it and enjoy the good moments and learn from and improve those not so great.
  • What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?  I am always grateful for my family and good friends and their continued good health.  I am grateful for meeting new friends.  I am grateful that my younger brother is in a good place being taken care of by people who care about him.
    I am looking forward to seeing some of my grandchildren this week and spending time with them.  I always look forward to the little surprises that pop up and make your day.  I hope that I can bring some joy or peace to someone I know or haven’t even met yet.

“Cultivate the habit of being grateful for every good thing that comes to you, and to give thanks continuously. And because all things have contributed to your advancement, you should include all things in your gratitude.”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson

Weekly Photo Challenge – Beneath Your Feet

Even if you’re on the right track, you’ll get run over if you just sit there.

Will Rogers

This week’s photo challenge is “Beneath Your Feet.”  My mind immediately raced to the railroad tracks in our downtown area.  Railroad tracks have been the subject of some of my best growing up stories.  Trains and tracks create imagery of mystery and adventure.

Train Tracks in downtown Waxhaw
Train Tracks in downtown Waxhaw

I grew up in a railroad town located on the banks of the Mississippi River.  At certain times of the day you knew you would be sitting and waiting at the crossing light unless you could get to the one bridge in town that crossed over the tracks.  When I was young I didn’t mind waiting and I would play games like guessing how many train cars there were or trying to hold our breath until the last car crossed.  Sometimes we would try and spot a hobo or freeloader.  When I started to drive the last thing I wanted to do was wait for a train.

I spent many hours walking the tracks.  As a 13 year old adventurer a friend and I climbed down the bluffs and were walking along the tracks and picking up stones to try and skip in the river.  It was a narrow path.  The Mississippi River on one side and the steep bluffs on the other.  We had never thought about a train…. we had an “oh s#$t moment and my friend started to climb up the bluff and I slid down into the water holding onto a tree.  It was long, slow freight train and I was freezing in the late October wind and water.  Finally, as the caboose lumbered by I drug my wet self out of the water, covered with mud and jeans soaking wet.  My friend was hanging onto a tree about 15 feet above the track.  We started screaming and laughing like we had cheated death and rushed home as fast as my squishy sneakers  and numb body could go.  We washed our clothes and relived our adventure over and over.  We never told our parents….lol… makes me wonder what my kids haven’t told me…. don’t want to know.

Train bridge
Train bridge

Another fond memory was of three friends and I walking across the train bridge from Iowa to Illinois.  There was an area on the bridge you could move to if a train came across so we were sure we were safe.  What we didn’t think about was a barge. We tried to run for one of the stationary sections when we felt it moving, but fear of falling through the tracks found us hanging on and trying to act like we planned it that way.  As it turned out we did enjoy ourselves.  There were a couple of people on the barge that saw us and waved and laughed and we thought we were very cool. Oh to be young and stupid… and to live through it.

My favorite memory is the sound of the trains at night in the distance.  Wondering where those tracks were taking the trains.  The tracks that disappear into nothing.  Such a soothing sound.

There’s something about the sound of a train that’s very romantic and nostalgic and hopeful.

Paul Simon


Beneath Your Feet

The Art of Play

“An unbridled imagination is the fountain of youth; it’s what keeps us young at heart.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich

There are mornings I wake up and wish that my body was as young as my mind.  It takes a little longer to limber up the body and prepare it for the day.  It doesn’t help that I have a wonderful back porch that beckons to me and says sit, have some coffee and enjoy all the morning activity,   How can you turn that down?

What does get me moving is the prospect of family visiting.  Not too long ago I had a young visitor.  One of my grandsons.  We saw a play at school, ate lunch and brought him home with us to play.  I have a huge collection of toys that belonged to my boys.  Legos, PlayMobile, Brio and G, my grandson, has the imagination to bring them alive.

G playing with some of his father's toys that I have kept over the years.
G playing with some of his father’s toys that I have kept over the years.

He sits in my upstairs work area and plays while I sew.  There is a quiet rhythm to our work/play.  He quietly talks through the activities of his play while my sewing machine hums away.  I remember the acting out of play.  Much of it was spent assigning tasks and actions and what everyone would do or say.  Listening to him brought up so many childhood memories and I was so happy to see real play hadn’t changed that much.

Eventually we needed some some outdoor play.  Part of me hated to leave the cool interior for the meltdown that was outside, but I also remembered children are more immune to the heat than those of an age.  We went to a wonderful little park located in a shady part of our small little downtown area.  It is his favorite park and he always wants to visit.

Walking across the plank bridge,
Walking across the plank bridge,

There is a playset there that has all sorts of imagination built into it.  Again, I listen as he adds a storyline to his play.  What a marvel is a child’s imagination.  Looking through their eyes brings back wonderful memories and refreshes the child within.  He conquered the rock wall like it was the highest mountain.  Look, Nana!  We clapped with joy.

G on slide in park.
G on slide in park.

Every slide was explored up and down.  Talking the whole time.  It was a lazy summer afternoon… until…

One very unhappy boy!
One very unhappy boy!

One very unhappy boy.  The face was so comically unhappy I wanted to laugh, but he was seriously unhappy about something.

The lecture.
The lecture.

And before I could ask him what was wrong, this happened!  I choked so I wouldn’t laugh.  He was lecturing a bee for upsetting his fun and not just moving along.  Needless to say, our park time was over and even with the heat it was wonderful fun.

“It is a happy talent to know how to play.”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson

Weekly Photo Challenge – Mine

I can’t help it, the first thing I thought of when I thought of mine was my son.  From the moment I found out I was pregnant he was mine.  All through his childhood I photographed his every smile and accomplishment.  He was mine.  I knew one day someone else would come along and steal his heart, but the little boy would always be mine.  He is a grown man now and not so much mine anymore… and that’s the way isupposed to be.  He now has a wife and a son with curly blond hair, a winning smile and I know he looks at him and wonders  “he’s mine!”


For other “mine” photos follow this link.

Baby Techies

My youngest grandson is growing up a techie and he doesn’t even know it.  His favorite baby toy was an iPhone and he loves the iPad.  He skypes with us on iPad and loves to carry us around his house with him… quite a dizzying experience and not recommended for weak of stomach.

I grew up dreaming of this technology, wanting to believe that we would all be living like the Jetsons one day.  If you aren’t familiar with them Google them, and that word (Google) was not a verb, let alone a word.