finding the proper title goes a long way

Both Hubby and SIL backed up the recent advice of a reader to add an external hard drive to my constipated PC to better store my photos and music files, rather than trusting them to CDs. I’m grateful for good advice, so I’ve begun the tedious process of transferring the files one by one. But this time I’m taking the time to better organize them so I’ll have less problems losing things. I’ve been looking for a certain photographs for months now with absolutely no luck.

So that explains how I found a peculiar folder hiding in some obscure file and I couldn’t explain in a month of Sundays how they found their way there at all. I had taken the time to title each one, however, and that in itself is a little out of the ordinary for me. Most of my pictures have titles like Image050 or Image050 (2) and the like. It’s understandable, therefore, that it takes a mite longer for me to sort and find the pictures I want to put into a post.

To add to all the other problems, last week I found several old pictures from 2004 that I couldn’t for the life of me figure out. I saw a bunch of little squares with different colored squiggles instead of the familiar little thumb sized pictures that usually identify a picture. Even if I weren’t looking for a particular photo I was so deeply intrigued by the titles on some these pictures that I could hardly wait to open them and find out what treasures I’d hidden away with titles like “sewers” and “undressed ladies.”

Alas! It was not to be a mystery quickly solved, as my photo program didn’t seem to want to open any of those puzzling files. My eyes scrolled quickly to the last photo in the file and I read “dressed up ladies afterward,” making me all the more curious. I tried all the picture software on my PC; there are many. When my Image Express flat out refused to open it, I was beginning to wonder if my PC knew something I didn’t. Like maybe somebody had somehow managed to slip a file of, you know, sizzling pictures into my family oriented stuff.

This morning, determined to filter out whatever evil fiend has gotten hold of my PC, I decided to try once again every photo processing programs I’m privy to. Just for more aggravation, I suppose, I decided to try one more time. I practically fell out of my chair when the picture I’d clicked on opened almost immediately. Finally the mystery was solved with the revelation of this first picture of the sewers:

See? When you half have your mind in the gutter already, and you see a file like sewers, you might think toilets and latrines and the like. But in this case you’d be wrong.

These are the sewers. As in seamstresses. (Click on each picture for a larger view.)

These are some of the ladies who were participating in a pioneer program at the Spring Mountain Ranch State Park just outside Las Vegas near Blue Diamond, Nevada that year–2004. I’ll bet you can hardly wait to see the naked ladies, now, huh?

The pioneer program takes place once a year at the ranch, in the fall, and the docents there take the opportunity to do a little fund raising for a few extras for the cash-strapped state-run park. It’s a good place for the kiddies to learn what it was like living way out in the desert when the west was still being settled, maybe assist in washing a few clothes in a washtub or making lye soap, or talking to a slew of mountain men demonstrate black powder rifle shooing. The dolls are part of the fund raising.

When I saw them lined up on a couch back at the ranch house while seamstresses worked furiously to make more clothes, I couldn’t resist taking a picture. Apparently it takes a little less time to sew the dolls than it does to make the clothes. You know how ladies are, wanting things to match and all.

These five lucky ladies are already dressed up prim and proper and ready to go out to the cabin store.

My title on the photograph naked ladies worked rather well in enticing me to open it so I could see what I had. Now I need to work on those photo files I’m transferring to the external HD and give them all equally intriguing titles, so I’ll be able to find exactly what I’m looking for in those 11,209,487 pictures waiting for my attention.

Just one more note. We’re at day 28 of our month long daily posting adventure. Only two days to do. Maybe my last post for November will be about the number of cialis and viagra spammers were caught by wordpress’s anti-spam program. That might make an interesting post, huh? With any luck I’ll be finished in about 19 years.

time stalkers and other sunday memories

Wow! You have to leave home from time to time to appreciate how good it feels to be home again, back to your own bed, clothes from a closet instead of a suitcase, and the electric toothbrush you left behind in favor of the hand-held one in your quest to pack lightly.

For the past 17 days or so Hubby and I have been doing a little stalking of a sort, going back in time 32 years or more and somewhere around 2500 hundred miles in distance. It was a very interesting step back, catching up on old friends. A little depressing, considering how you feel when you learned who developed what illness and comparing it with your lot and, strangely enough, feeling lucky in spite of those pills you have to take and IV’s you have to endure every eight weeks. At least what you have can be treated successfully and you’re not dead. We learned several of old colleagues and friends are.

On the other hand, many–like the couple we visited and some who came to lunch with Hubby the day after we arrived–are still going. Naturally we tried to talk them into retiring. The reasons we heard–“what would I do with myself all day” or something like that–made me begin to think Hubby and I should write a book on retiring successfully, a blog to say the very least! I’d hate to have fear keep me from the wonderful life Hubby and I are living doing as little as possible unless we want to.

To keep this entry short, however, in keeping with Sunday snapshot memories, I thought I’d post a photo Hubby took in 1966 when we were spending a lazy Sunday afternoon on Daytona Beach in Florida where he was then a graduate student at the University of Florida. I know now of course that he’s very energetic and hates standing still very long, but I didn’t know him well at the time, but it explains–sort of–why he borrowed my camera and said he’d be back in a little bit.

In those days you had to wait until you’d finished using up all the film and took it to be developed at the photo shop, or the thriftier method of mail order processing, before you could see the pictures–sometimes that would be weeks or months. By the time I saw the picture you’re seeing here, we had progressed from “new acquaintance” to “best friends.” Turned out while I was lying on a beach towel, my new friend was out stalking:

florida beacg 1968

Forty-some years later, we find ourselves in New York visiting our daughter and her significant other when we decided to take the trains to Brooklyn so we could walk across the Brooklyn Bridge to Manhattan and take in the views. It’s not such a lazy day this time, but after clouds and rainy days the city is shining. We were lollygagging along like people with no jobs to go to do crossing the bridge, stopping to take pictures along the way: the distant Statue of Liberty and views of lower Manhattan and other points of interest. This time I controlled the camera.

brooklyn bridge 2009

You probably wouldn’t recognize him, but guess who that is 👿 with the backpack on his back?

Years may come and years may go, but some things just never change, do they ❗ ❓  Talk about time stalkers!

Have a great week, everybody!

seeking subliminal creativity props

Today I was privileged to attend a special presentation of antique quilts housed in the hospital at the LDS Heritage Park. A member of the Salt Lake Quilt Guild gave an OSHER group presentation explaining the connection of quilting to our American society and to the Industrial Revolution. Quilts dated from the 1820’s to the 1940’s. While I would love to show them all to you here, I’ve managed to cull the file down to ten. Some are particularly unusual and many were hand quilted as well as hand pieced.

IMG_0001Behind the glass is a flowered applique, and the two on the right varieties of the pineapple motif. Below is an authentic Amish quilt from Amish country in Pennsylvania.

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IMG_0019“Sunbonnet Sue” has always been one of my favorites. My mother made one for me not many years before she died, and it was my very favorite of all my quilts, but there’s a sad story behind it now. Not long after we moved here in fall of 2005, it disappeared. Hubby did not agree with me that we should change all the locks on the entry doors because there were so many of them he thought it was cost a fortune to replace them all. And he assured me we needn’t worry about locking up because we’d moved to Salt Lake City in Utah which was probably one of the most honest places in the country! The house had many prior occupants and there was no way to know how many keys were floating around at large, but I could not convince him.

After several quilts and a blanket had been missing for months, he still insisted I’d misplaced them, even though I keep all my quilts together in one display cabinet. We both looked high and low several times, but they never showed up. He’s a good man, my hubby, except he’s far too trusting for someone who’s been in this country nearly 40 years! I don’t even have a photograph of it, but now at least I have this one. 😥 One final twist to the story: when we finally had the locks redone, it cost $50. For me, the three quilts were priceless.

IMG_0025It’s too bad the detail isn’t better in this one. The design is made of one-half inch squares! by hand! Many of these fancier quilts were usually stored away and brought out to adorn the beds when company came. After they left, they would be carefully rolled up and put away until the next guest.

IMG_0029My first thought about this one was “Eeewww.” But then I got closer for a better look. The design is made with irregular shaped pieces of textured fabric with fur in the center, making it look like little animals in the center. I think my granddaughter would like this one. I could imagine stroking the fur as you lay under it on a cold wintry day.

IMG_0030And of course no quilt collection would be complete without the crazy quilt from the Victorian era. Some of the fabric scraps are shiny and textured and all are embroidered down the seams in fancy needlework stitches.

IMG_0036The building where the quilts are kept is a hospital from the pioneering era of the mid- to late 1800’s. The rooms are large, and the beds–several of them–are placed close to the walls. The next two pictures show how it might have looked during its hey day.

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This quilt (below) is much plainer, probably made from random scraps, and tied rather than quilted. I have one similar to this hand-stitched by my grandmother with my father’s WWII-issue wool blanket as the filler material.

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I rather like this one myself. It’s a unique way to use up those old silk ties to use as a table cover. It’s also tied rather than quilted.

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There’s usually a method to my madness, and there’s a special reason I went to that quilt presentation today. You see, I have two quilts I’ve started–one is a sampler quilt of 12 blocks, and I’ve finished nine. The tenth is sooooooo difficult I’m stymied. The other is a simple four-inch-block rag quilt, lap size, made of flannel. I’m looking forward to having it closeby one of the Utah winters! But it’s so boring doing the same block over and over and therein lies the rub.

Anyhow, my daughter and I went to see Julie and Julia (the movie) a few weeks ago. We saw the last showing for the day and if it hadn’t been nearly midnight when it was finished, we would have gone out to eat straightaway; it made us so hungry! Now I’m still feeling the effects of watching two women on the screen, one of whom so enthusiastic in her life and cooking and the other determined to learn to be.

One of the scenes near the beginning showed Julie grilling French bread slices in gobs of butter and serving Bruschetta. Next day the subliminal message was still so strong,  nothing would do until I went out to buy a French Baguette to bring home for a Bruschetta snack. And then I started remembering some of the simple but delicious foods I used to cook back when I thought I liked to cook. And Hubby became so inspired to see me fiddling around in the kitchen again that he learned to make homemade yogurt! We are so inspired, and now he wants me to see Julie and Julia several times a year. Maybe we’ll even buy it when it comes out on DVD.

Who knows? The quilt show might work, too, inspiring me to finish those quilts before I die. The way I figure it, if I’m learning through Julie and Julie to enjoy cooking again, even a teensy weensy bit, it could happen! Anything’s possible.