HAPPY FATHER’S DAY

  To all the dad’s out there, and especially to my husband

Here are a few photos of him with our son, starting with our very first photo after he was born in 1979.

And here is father and son today. 

Happy Father’s Day My Love!

Thanks for looking and 

I hope you all have a great day!

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!

This is a photo I keep on our mantle in the family room of my Mother and me at my Christening in early 1951. Another I have shared before but when I looked at it again, I thought to put it up for Mother’s Day.  I still miss her dearly, always will.

“Half of the world  are women, the other half are their children.”

~Efu Nyaki~

“Pooh,” said Piglet quietly, “do you ever think about the ones 

who aren’t sitting beside us, but still feel close anyway?” Pooh

nodded very slowly. “Yes, Piglet. I think about them often.

Especially my mother. She may not always be with me, but I

feel her in every good thing I try to do. When I am kind, it is

because she taught me kindness. When I am brave, it is because

she told me I could be. And when I feel small and a bit lost, I

remember she always made me feel I was enough.” Piglet sat down.

So even though she isn’t here, she still is?” Pooh gave a little smile.

“Exactly, Piglet. Mothers are like that. They don’t stop being part of

your story, even if they are not in the middle of it all anymore. They

are in the way you see the world, in the way you hold onto hope,

and in the way you keep going when days feel heavy.” Piglet

sighed softly, a happy sort of sigh. “That sounds like love that

never ends.” And Pooh, still looking at the little picture in his

paws, whispered, “Yes, Piglet. That’s what mothers are - 

love that never ends.”

I wish those who are celebrating and remembering their mothers, and also who are celebrating their own motherhood...

A Very Happy Mother's Day. 

Dedicated with love and hugs 

to all the Mothers who made us feel whole.

JUST ME, BACK IN THE EARLY 1970's - PART 1

Still clearing through boxes in our 2025 downsizing project. Gregg came across these old photos of me, taken in the early and mid 1970's. When he put them in my hands, I could hardly comprehend that they were taken 50 years ago. Who is that young girl leaning against a snowbank? It's me! 

I decided to put them on here, along with the memories of each photo, so that our son could read them in the years ahead and hopefully have a chuckle. Hopefully you will too, or feel to skip most of it. I certainly won't be offended. 

In the next batch Gregg brings in, there were more of him when I asked. The photo above was taken on a walk on one of the trails around Seefeld in Austria. The name of where we stayed just popped into my head. It was the Hotel Hohe Munde. I don't remember what it looked like too much on the outside, typically Tyrolean I would say, but I remember the dance floor and the coffee shop and a wide staircase. I saved for almost two years to be able to go with a group of good friends, hotel and air fare included, plus skiing lessons and our evening meal.

I wasn't fond of the skiing part. In No.1 - it looks like I am trying to figure out which ski goes on which foot. No. 2 - I managed to stay on those feet for a while. No 3 - I finally gave up on the skis for a bit and decided to use this contraption. No. 4 definitely more my style. I would be the one being pulled instead of the toddler shown. I understood why there were skiers who looked so at ease, as if they had been born to it. I saw many a toddler attached to and straddling their parents' legs with their tiny feet resting on their parents' skis as they skied downhill, albeit more gently and slower than they normally would have done, and on the bunny slopes as they were called. The seeds are sown early.

In the next photo I am standing in front of The Golden Roof. It doesn't look so golden, but these photos have faded. I'm glad we found them when we did as they are deteriorating rapidly. What do I expect after not seeing the light of day for all these years?

In those early days, not long after we met, we were talking of places visited and found that we were in Innsbruck about the same time. Gregg was on an exchange tour with the British Navy and had time off. All his shipmates and friends were married and had gone home to be with their family. As it was a fairly short holiday, he had not flown back to the States and decided to see a bit of Europe. Innsbruck was on his itinerary. 

I had gone with a group of friends but decided to take a bus trip to Innsbruck one day, which the travel person at the hotel had recommended. I don't remember going with anyone else and maybe a tourist took this photo of me. The facts seem a bit fuzzy of how-tos after all these years. 

So, there was Gregg looking around the city moreorless at the same time as I was, and fancifully thinking, it was almost as if the fates were trying to tell us something. Two months later we met in my hometown. 

A little bit of history, the Golden Roof was completed in the year 1500 and was decorated with 2,657 fire-gilded copper tiles for Emperor Maximilian I, to mark his wedding to Bianca Maria Sforza. The Emperor and his wife used the balcony to observe festivals, tournaments and other events that took place in the square below. The rest of the history can be read here. Seefeld, the town where I was spending my vacation, was only about an hour. 

I was closer to home in the next few photos, 12 hours plus by car from my home in Devonshire. Friend Moira and I are sitting next to a cannon on the battlements of Edinburgh Castle. This time I was away for a week's holiday. Moira's Dad was going on a business trip to St. Andrews in Scotland, and Moira suggested the three of us (also our friend Geraldine) spend a week in her dad's tent a little further north, and he dropped us off.

 

I had never been camping before and was eager to try it. I seem to remember my parents rolling their eyes when I told them what I was going to do. Dad occasionally would call me a hot-house flower, I liked my comfort too much he said. He couldn't imagine his youngest daughter going all the way up to Scotland and sleeping in a tent for seven nights in some strange place. Mum would fondly nod in my direction, agreeing with Dad. "Are you sure you really want to go camping?" with emphasis on the last word. Except for one long weekend on Dartmoor with a bunch of workmates the following year, I never went camping again. Definitely a hot house flower but that week up in Scotland, I wouldn't have traded that for the world. Enjoyed it from start to finish.

The photo above shows us playing cards in that lovely tent that was our home for a week, by a lovely windy loch, anchored to two strong, solid oak trees. None of us had been camping before and didn't really know how to do a simple thing like pitch a tent. It blew down that first night in pouring rain. Did we care? Not really! We couldn't stop laughing as we struggled to hoist it back up, pouring down with rain, catching all the flapping parts and digging them firmly onto the spikes which we hammered into the ground. Lesson learned, it stayed up for the rest of the week.  

There was a pub down the road and a small general shop. I seem to remember the pub people owning the camping ground. We went to two castles, Edinburgh and Stirling. There was a public bus once a week, which is how we got to these castles I suppose. Fuzzy memories on the hows after all this time. 

We walked down to the pub each night and one evening we were adopted by a young local couple we had gotten to know. The next night they invited us to go to their home for the evening. It was one of those self-entertainment get togethers, where the husband played a guitar, the wife sang Scottish folk songs, which we were invited to sing along to, and another of their friends recited Scottish poetry. We ate bread and cheese, ate crisps and drank pop. The hospitality was outstanding. Didn't want it to end and didn't leave until we were dropping off at well after midnight. Our hosts were only too ready to keep the evening going.

We were the only ones at the camping ground so we could take our pick of spots. We never found it boring. I don't remember much about the meals, but they were simple enough. We cooked spaghetti on a burner with lots of delicious bread still warm from the oven and freshly churned butter from that small shop not too far from the pub, all within a short walking distance. The pub always seemed to be quiet when we were there, with only a few locals.

On the last day when we were waiting for Moira's Dad so that we could start the journey home, a group of army lads turned up and started pitching their tent. They had some free time they said and decided to come up here from wherever they were stationed. We girls looked at each other and rolled our eyes but just as well we were leaving I suppose. A flash of my Dad’s disapproving expression just came to me. Gregg often says I have that same expression. I can hear my Mum saying, “Oh Stanley!” as she wrung her hands with worry. They needn’t have been concerned, but we are parents so we know how it goes. Dad gifted his girls with good head sense and taught skills that I still have today. I also have always had an overly cautious nature. Anyhow, those lads seemed very nice. We waved to them from the car as we headed south. It was a great feeling getting home, the same feeling I get now. Great to see my Mum and Dad again, and my Mum was particularly relieved I had such a good time but was now under her roof. Dad just rolled his eyes as I rolled mine and we had a bit of a laugh. Our dog Jason was filled with joy and his tail was like a whirlybird. He wouldn't leave my side for several days. Yes, it was good to get home.

This is Jason, our golden labrador. He was my baby. He didn't like other little dogs though, and we had to be careful taking him on walks. When he was a puppy and we hadn’t had him for long, we were on the high street in Totnes, and a passing terrier jumped up and bit him really hard on the end of his nose and wouldn't let go. He bled and bled and bled and was in such a state, poor pup. We had to keep him away from small dogs for evermore. I loved him dearly, a real sweet boy and he loved everyone who came to our house with even their dogs, but not terriers or other small dogs.

It's been a bit of a ramble and am sorry it's gone on for so long, but those photos started the memories flowing.

I have more photos and memories to share but I will give you a break and split this post into two parts, sharing the other in a few days or so.

Thanks for visiting and thank you for indulging me in my ramble. Have a great day!

 

PHOTOS INTO PAINTINGS

 After Sandra showed the photos she turned into paintings here, I was curious and did the same with ours. I don’t think they look like us, none of them do exactly but it was a fun playtime. 

We were married in my village church in December 1975. Even if you don’t like the painting results, hopefully you will enjoy the old photos. I have shown a lot of them before 

No explanation needed. 

We had this photo taken at Pennys in the early part of 1980. An impulse decision when we were walking by the store and saw their advertisement. A studio photo opportunity was in the future we thought, when our little boy was a bit older, but we just happened to come across it that day. I am now very happy we took it earlier than we had intended.

My dear other half says these 'paintings' aged him about 10 years. He may be right.

In the following photo son and I were visiting our family in the UK. One day they took us to the Malvern Hills in Worcestershire. I remember taking this photo so clearly. We had just climbed up a very long path to the top of that very high hill, and it had glorious views all around.

The closest face likeness I think.

A navy ball back in the day, early 1980s.

I went with a friend to get the dress. I remember not being sure about it and thinking it too old-fashioned but she loved it, and time was marching on. I needed a dress after all the dilly dallying. I had looked at many already and I was getting tired of this dress shopping. I never liked clothes shopping. That hasn’t changed much!

The following is an event where later that evening we had been sitting at a large round table with other couples. As he was sitting down, hubs knocked one of the table legs and sent everyone’s glasses of red wine flying (story also told before). I have never seen so many ladies kick away from the table at lightning speed in perfect choreography! Fortunately, not one evening gown was splashed. They gave him the side-eye all evening, daring him to do the same thing as he sat down, but all had a good sense of humor. We still chuckle about it even after all these years.

My dress was altered in the copy below. The original dress had pencil straps and had a matching silky scarf around the neck, in a silky material with a pattern of small cornflower blue flowers. I loved that dress! The photo was fading though. I almost asked for large red wine splashes to be added, but that would have been a bridge too far and yes, having a bit of a chuckle.

My grandparents on my mother’s side of the family, on their wedding day. Not sure of the year, early 1920’s perhaps.

I never met my maternal grandfather, but my mother and he were very close. She used to tell me lots of stories, and I felt I knew him through those. I have passed a lot of them onto our son. His great-grandfather was a soldier.

The following photos were taken of my parents a couple of years before they were married.

I love these particularly and have had them framed for years. Dad served on HMS Jamaica for a time, but after naval service, was on the police force for 30 plus years. 

Their wedding in the 40s. 

And this one I added a frame of Cala lilies, the same as Mother's bouquet. Cala lilies were Mum's favorite flower.

Last two and a lot of water has gone under that bridge, says I with a smile.

This was from my birthday get together with the family a couple of days ago. I will be sharing regular photos as soon as I can put something together. We had a great evening with our son and daughter-in-law. Son took our photo.

I am feeling a lot better and thanks for all the get-well wishes. I will be visiting soon.  I have missed catching up with you all. 

Thanks Sandra at Madsnapper. It was fun to see what turned up.

And thanks for looking everyone. 

Wishing you a great day!

A COUPLE OF OLD PHOTOS FROM 1973 AND EARLY 1980'S AND A FEW MEMORIES.

 I have mentioned that we've been downsizing, getting into the closets, into the garage, into the basement, etc. Oh boy, I knew this would happen. We have been finding things that we have forgotten all about, and it has slowed us down to a snail's pace today. Memories come flooding back as they do, and we have been having fun looking at old photos, old passports where I found the photo below, and goodness knows what else will be waiting for us when we start again. In the meantime we have boxes everywhere, and are gradually sorting things out. 

But, we did get rid of a few garden odds and ends that were of no working value to anyone. Off they went to the trash center, as well as three large plastic bags of 'no-one is going to want to do anything with those'. 

Two of the photos we found were getting a bit worse for wear, but I couldn't throw them away. Our son put the photo of the three of us through his tidy-up app. The old passport photo was taken when I was 23. It's been in an old Rubbermaid box in the garage for longer than I care to say, long forgotten. I paid 60 pounds sterling for that passport, which was more than I did for my 10 day-holiday in Austria, and it was a real nice hotel. I saved up the whole year and then some for that holiday.

A group of good friends and I were off on a skiing trip in March 1973. None of us knew how to ski but the package included skiing lessons. I wasn't a very confident learner. Once I remember ending up hanging over a fence at the bottom of a nursery slope, looking into someone's private home. True story and this proved to me that I was not built for speed. Very embarrassing but fortunately no one came out to see what was going on, and there was no damage done to their fence. I had a feeling I was not the first unintentional visitor over their not so very tall wooden fence. I wasn't very good at skiing, and I remember my skiing instructor not being too pleased with me. But, fun times with a bunch of great friends, and we used to look out for each other. One of my friends brought her husband along. He was/is the sweetest guy and looked out for all of us. I still keep in touch with them.

I remember the hotel vividly, where we danced all night in their nightclub, went to the coffee shop (also in the hotel) in the early hours of the morning after dancing, and then to our rooms to grab a couple of hours sleep, and to the slopes to learn how to ski, again. We were in a town called Seefeld, surrounded by snow-covered mountains (the Austrian Alps) and it was gorgeous! We had fun walking around town, doing a little shopping and souvenir hunting, small gifts for our families back home, then back to get dressed for a night of après-ski, more dancing till four o'clock in the morning, back to the coffee shop, back for a couple hours of sleep in our room, to start the process all over again. 

One time we caught a train to visit another area one of our friends had always wanted to see. It was many miles away which involved an overnight stay. Finding ourselves on a train going through the most incredible scenery, we didn't really know which stop to get off at, but a kind Austrian man who spoke English overheard us and said, here is your stop. 

Off we got, found a hotel (no ahead booking) stayed one night, had a good look around and back on the train again to finish off our holiday. I don't know how we did it and my parents would have had a conniption if they knew, especially my dear mum. Oh boy! Anyhow, here is my passport photo, a little worse for wear but yes that's me.

We went two years in a row on our skiing holidays. In subsequent years my friends met their life-partners, and two years after my last trip I met Gregg, which leads me to the second photo.

It was taken in the den of my in-law's house. That den was a haven for not only my in-law's but all the family and friends who visited. It was a happening place. There was always someone there, they knew no strangers. 

A big picture window looked out on the back of their garden. My dear mother-in-law sat doing her crossword puzzles, with a pair of binoculars on the end table. She used them to watch the birds coming to her feeders and had a book to identify those she didn't know. She was very good at identifying her birds, she didn't need the book but rarely. We both had fun watching them and I remember her squirrels too. 

On a Saturday Morning she and I would watch old Westerns, TV shows and movies. We both enjoyed those. Gregg and his Dad would be in the garage where father-in-law worked on his old cars.

 On a Sunday morning Henry delivered the New York Times and she would get stuck in with her crossword puzzle, but first we'd have a chat with Henry who was older than my in-laws at the time, probably only a few years older than I am now. He had bought the Sunday newspaper for years and was always invited in for a refreshment of some kind. He had become a good friend and was a fixture in the neighborhood. Everyone knew Henry, a friend to everyone.

Memories of 4th of July Picnics, Thanksgivings and Christmas', and everything in between. We lived in Washington DC for a couple of years when we were first married and drove down every second week or so. Later we lived nearby for a couple of years when Brad was about four years of age. Memories of Brad in his paper tricorne hat we made him out of Henry's newspaper once read, beating on the drum with his Nanna marching in front of him, with them both singing a good old marching song. She was wonderful, and so much fun!

Now, I wonder what we will find in the next clean-up session?

Enjoy your weekend everyone and thanks for listening.

OLD FAMILY PHOTOS FROM A TRIP TO NORWAY BACK IN THE SUMMER OF 1987

Rooting through my archives I found these old photos of our trip to Norway in 1987. My dear husband had put out to sea for six months and I used the opportunity to visit my family. The first part of our holiday was with my parents in England, and the second half of our time we visited my sister, brother-in-law and niece. They lived in Norway for a few years. Son was eight years' old.  

On one of our daytrips we were out and about with my family. You never knew what you were going to see around the next bend of the road.

We had a longish journey to see the sights and stopped to look at the views. I had turned my back to look in another direction for a few moments. You can see son climbing on all these logs left for pick up. I had my camera in hand when I turned around and this gave me a start, but even as I was walking quickly towards him, I snapped a picture. A moment in time captured. I was heading over to tell him to come down, but he was already getting ready to jump to the ground after his little climbing adventure. My son was a climber, just like his mum I might add. One memory is of me at three years' old climbing to the top of the window-cleaner's ladder to the upstairs window. Mum was paying him she said years later, and turned her back for a moment. I frightened both of them apparently, but still remember that adventure on my ladder. As for son and his climbing all those logs, I suppose I was a bit of a nervous mum myself.

One young kid making friends with another young kid. We were at an outdoor living museum but I can't remember the name of it. Great place for all ages.

He is with a much larger one this time and they were both looking in my direction which I found amusing.

He loved the goats, as did I. There were dozens of them. On the back of one of the photos I had written: When we got out of this enclosure, my brother-in-law read a sign that said, 'Don't run around the goats, don't approach the goats at break-neck speed, don't make loud noises.'  Son was so excited he had done all of these but fortunately was not head-butted once.

This little one was quite at home climbing on the side of the rock wall.

In the following we were at Norway's Folk Museum in Oslo. It is a marvelous place. You can click on the name to see great photos and info. If you are ever visiting Oslo, I can highly recommend it. Years later Gregg and I went there. Son was an adult by this time and long out of the house. But, here you can see him with a young lady who was very nice to him and patiently answered all his questions. She was bilingual and spoke perfect English.

A sign in Norwegian. We were visiting a silver mine, (though I have no recollection of this place). 

Another one of him walking by these lovely boats, a sign on the first one read, 'Drive the Viking Way'. This is a marina in Kristiansand, Norway. 'Kristiansand is a city in southern Norway that's known for its beaches, parks, museums and festivals. It is also a major industrial center and a popular summer destination.' I found all this online. 

Here are two maps the second showing Kristiansand's red location marker in Norway, and the surrounding countries.

Below he is taking care of his cousin with us not too far away, following behind them. We were at one of the many lakes we visited. At the time our son was eight and our niece was 20 months' old. 

Probably my favorite photos from our time there.

I may have put one of these photos on this blog somewhere. 

Enjoy your day and thanks for stopping by.