Photos · Weekly blog post

Trains of old

It was during a trip in 2014 to Toronto, Ontario that we came across a group of retired trains.  Polished and lined up in the central yard here they stand silent as if they were quietly waiting their last run out.

Encompassing the yard are the old spiral tracks leading back to the large doors that once served as their homes.  Time has long since passed since these engines left the yard, but their memories of travels still remain.  The numbers above each door designating the train it held.

train doors-1

Photo Challenge: The Daily Post, Numbers

Rambling thoughts · Weekly blog post

The 5K Mother’s Day gift

If we were having coffee you’d see me stressing over the money being spent today as I listen to the roofers banging away while they fix up the leaking roof of our 90 year-old house.  When we purchased our home a little under ten years ago I knew it would come with some repairs; I just didn’t think the roof would be one of them so soon.

Cracking and peeling ceiling

Having plaster walls we seldom give little concern to the subtle cracks that constantly appear. Last weekend though things began to look rather bleak.  When my husband and I returned from the trailer our daughter informed us that her bedroom ceiling had been leaking through the night during the heavy rainfall.

My husband had a roofer come look yesterday morning to determine where the problem might be. Upon inspection they both immediately spotted where the leaking was coming from.  Shingles were missing creating a way for the water to get in.  We don’t know how long this had been going on since spring rains have just started here, but we had been noticing shingles on the ground since last fall.  We have a neighbour with a bad roof, and assumed that they were his.  I guess we were wrong.

This isn’t the first time this old house has leaked.  We have an on going issue with the mysterious leak in the mudroom.  This roofer says he knows how to fix it though.  I’m hopeful he does.  We have already had that roof re-shingled once before.  The issue with it seems to be a result of bad flashing between the tiny roof and the house.  He assures me this will be done properly, so that there be no more waterfall effects in the doorway leading to the kitchen when the rain comes.  The dog will be thankful since that’s right where her bed is.

I’m trying my best to keep on the positive side of thinking knowing the leak is being handled before today’s rain.  Also, that as I watch the workmen outside, I feel assured that it isn’t my husband up there trying to do the repairs himself.


Rambling thoughts · Weekly blog post

A little dose of cat hair

If we were having coffee the first thing you’d notice is our oldest cat Big Ben, or Ben for short.  I think he’s around 18-20 years old now.  We don’t know his real age because he was a rescue with a sad tale of abandonment.

Cat laying down
Ben – that adorable black mark on his nose

Don’t you worry though.  For the last 15 or so years he’s enjoyed the good life.  He’s an indoors man, who gets to bask in the warm sunlight and eat all day long.  He sleeps comfortably wherever he wishes.  He’s a talker too.  Open up a cheese slice, and he chatters non-stop.  Unfortunately he can’t have the treats like he once did, but he does manage to talk you into a just a wee bite.

Ben is a very loving cat.  The down side to his love is his thick coat.  The white hair is everywhere!  No matter how much I vacuum it still remains.  I have to warn people all the time that if they begin to pet him, they will leave with part of him.  His hair clings to everything.

We love Ben! He’s the most interesting cat in the world, and we will be sad to see the day when we have to say our good-byes to him.  Hopefully that won’t be anytime soon.

Daily Post · Rambling thoughts

Love letters are dead

It’s spring!  Well it’s supposed to be by now, but here in Sarnia, Ontario we received six inches of heavy wet snow.  Just two days ago we were all wearing sweaters.  Yes this is a typical Canadian spring.  The weather reminded me of how quickly things change, yet stay the same.

As the weather warms our natural instincts to clean our “nests” kicks in.  We inevitably sift through the dusty buried boxes found in our antics, alcoves and closets; checking for what is good, and what is ready to be donated. Stored away we will discover items drawing us to memories from days gone. Some items will filled our hearts and eyes with tears of joy, or sadness as we let our mind meander back to yesteryear.

Are love letters dead?  Have they disappeared like most everything else with any human touch in this modern world of technology?  Our written words have been replaced with blogs, emails, the simple single letter text like “K”, and emoticons.

YouTube video: Young couples attempt to write a love letter.

Handwriting is becoming a lost art!  Children in grade school are no longer taught how to write cursive, let alone how to read it.  Instead everything is typed out on computers.  The emotional sense of pouring your heart out in words onto paper has been replaced with machine driven corrections such as, the back-space key, and the auto corrector (which is not very smart).  Missing are the tears stains, the misaligned words as they leap off the predesigned lines in hasty writings, the scribbling and crossing out of words as our thoughts race across the paper.  Gone is the sense of personality behind the curve of the characters.

As the age of technology has brought us closer around the world, it has left us without the emotions derived from holding the words written by our loved ones.  The physical touch of the paper.  The yellowing stains that tell us that this was a piece of our history, all gone.

I wonder if in 100 years from now if anyone will know how to write in cursive.  Will it be some new historical lesson in our schools for scholars to study like ancient text?  I hope not.

Keeping memories alive

Receiving a simple handwritten letter from anyone is something to be treasured.  I hope if you undercover one you remember the importance of the words written.  Do not place these delicate memories back inside a darkened box, only to be forgotten; instead place them in a frame and hang them on the walls of your home.  For those words hold a special message written just for you.  The length of the letter isn’t as important as the words contained with.  This person wrote to let you know of their intention.  Be it about love, sorrow, loss, dreams, an invitation or something else, the message was personal.  It was written for your eyes.

Spring is here!  Let’s bring back the old before it is too late. Write a letter to someone, anyone.  I know postage for a single stamp is 80 cents in Canada, but for that few pennies a lifetime of memories can be made. Isn’t it worth it to our loved ones to keep our history alive for generations to come?

Read more about Handwriting on The Daily Post