I took a trip to GW the other day. In my trunk was this amazing 60 year old roasting pan. It was a painful trip, reminding me of the time I took my dad's clothes to GW. I am impossibly sentimental and all I could think about were the many, many turkeys my mom had made in that pan. I just can't keep it anymore, and probably will never make another turkey big enough to warrant keeping it. I tried to find someone of the younger generation to take it, but there was no interest. It's a true work horse and hopefully someone will see it's value and take it home to use for many more family meals. One of the things I think of when I remember my parents is the wonderful cook my mother was. She was a nurturer extraordinaire and cooking for her family was part of that. So I said goodbye to a piece of my life and tried not to look back.
I was much happier about this old nail keg. The story goes that it was my grandfather's,
and ended up at my father's house. My dad was a builder-turned-preacher,
but my grandfather was a builder all his life. If you were to travel around the Philadelphia
area you would see many wonderful stone houses, banks and churches built by his company.
So the nail keg meant a lot to me. I was delighted when my nephew's wife expressed
interest in it. It's now an umbrella stand in her front hall!
I'm struck by this attic scene: the old nail keg next to the pack n play,
Windows and doors are my favorite things to photograph. For me they are sort of framed anticipation, either looking in or looking out . . . . Or even a pretty frame in itself. This amazing door is in a leprosarium built-to-last in the 1920s. The building stands strong though a little paint
is needed. It now appears to be mainly used for storage as part of a larger
TB and leprosy (Hanson's Disease) center (Addis Ababa, Ethiopia).
I used several cameras while I was photographing our time in Addis Ababa. Ethiopia so
I can't tell you what camera this was, but most likely my little Canon "point and shoot."
It was the rainy season so we rarely saw the sun. When you see a window up high you love,
don't you wish you had some scaffolding for a moment? This window is over the door shown above.
From a little bathroom in the guest house where we stayed, looking out
on the tin roof, shanty houses, and sky scrapers.
I loved all the wood in this guest house built in 1950, and this door in particular,
opening out to a pretty yard filled with flowers.
A door opens to a whole new world inside, or closes it to the world outside.
And you never know what all you'll catch in a photo as you "reflect" on it
later. In this case you can see the tall Gardener reflected in conversation.
A beautiful church in Addis Ababa, with wood imported from New Zealand.
All of us gathered around the table on this particular morning have been friends for many years ... from back in the days when our children were young. As the years went by and the children left our nests, we started gathering to celebrate our birthdays, mostly with tea or lunch in our homes. We've missed our friend who moved to Germany, though we often Skype with her for our book clubs.
I had the idea to give her a virtual birthday party. Why not? We gathered for tea as we always do, and she "sat" at the head of the table. I had asked her husband to be sure she was there, and at least the birthday part of it was a surprise.
It worked so well. We almost forgot B. wasn't really right at the table with us.
These pictures look like we are having a "working tea,"
with papers and books spread around. Well indeed we were, of sorts.
For we each brought a "virtual" gift to give her.
And words to share to encourage her.
I "gave" her a children's book for her to read to her grandchildren when she skypes with them.
Our friends moved to Europe a few years ago and B. would frequently tell me about the "Podso views" she saw everywhere and that we should hurry up and come visit. These were scenes she could imagine me photographing. We did go see B. and B. this summer on our way home from Africa, and I saw "my views." And yes, I took too many pictures.
This one window I find so interesting close up, and it is a house next to where B. and B. used to live. B. took me to their former residence so I could get some pictures of what was her "classic" Podso "view."
And below are a few more "Podso views." No words needed.