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Foto Friday Fun 14

This week’s Foto Friday Fun includes 9 images chosen by readers picking a number out of my photo archives.  I thought I’d change it up a bit last week when asking for a number between 1954, when I was born, to 2013.  So many of these take me back a ways.  Guess I was feeling rather nostalgic.

Stained glass in store window Tonasket Washington 1983

Arija chose #1983, “the year of the Ash Wednesday wild fire and the loss of all we had achieved in 25 years of marriage.”  She’s not looking for sympathy and neither am I when you see images of my home town after the result of the Yarnell Hill Fire.  But this number represents a happier time, when I opened my first store in Tonasket, Washington in September of 1983.  I wanted a consignment shop to sell arts and crafts made by local residents.  There was a lot of talent but unfortunately not a lot of sales.

Demonstrating stained glass at a show Hanover Park Illinois 1981

Erin chose #1981, “the year of my marriage.”  This was the year after my marriage and still lived in Illinois.  I’d been creating with stained glass for a short time and often set up at local craft fairs.

Sunrise over waves at Tsitsikamma National Park Storms River Mouth South Africa

Diane chose 2013 for the birth of a new neighbor.  This birth of a new day mesmerized me seeing the constant change of wave and splash while enjoying coffee on the porch of my chalet at Storms River Mouth Tsitsikamma National Park in South Africa.

Watercolor painting done in class in Wenatchee Washington 1987

Cheryl chose #1987, “the year I was 35 and the favorite year of my life so far.  I was young, adventurous, and somewhat daring!”  In 1987 I  dared to take a watercolor class through Wenatchee Community College.  I’ve tried to learn to paint several times and am very good at mixing mud.  I know color, just not paint mixing.  This is one of my favorite paintings from a class where the prof, who had traveled all over the world, put one of his slides from somewhere first upside down and out of focus for our first attempt at painting blocks of color.  Then he set it right and focused for just a touch of detail.

1965 Mustang Downers Grove Illinois

Bibi chose #1965, “the year I fell in love for the first time.”  I actually owned this 1965 Mustang in high school as I was only in 6th grade in 1965.  My high school mascot was the Mustang horse.  This car went through several art projects where we painted on it with poster paints and drove it in home coming parade.

Sunset Yarnell Arizona

Dell also picked #2013, “because my daughter just had her 57th birthday and we spent it in Carmel, Ca.”  I’ll bet she saw some beautiful sunsets there like I’ve watched many times through my Imax windows in Yarnell.

third grade class photo Madison School September 1962 Hinsdale Illinois

Barb chose #1962, “my graduation from high school back in the Stone Age.”  Guess that puts me in the Bronze Age as I was only in the 3rd grade then.  Wonder if you’ll be able to find me.

baby girl 1954

Sherry chose #1954, “because I’m really glad you were born.”  Thank you.  So here I am, only three hours old.

Antique photo of Gaelyn & Denver 1975 Downers Grove Illinios

Firefly chose #1975, his birth year.  I’d been out of high school a few years by then and had this studio photo taken with my dog Denver as a gift for my parents.

Lioness Kruger Natinal Park Mpumalanga South Africa

My pick for this week from the first time I saw lions in the wild at Kruger National Park.  A sign of strength and courage, something I’m feeling the need for lately.

 

Thank you for playing along with Foto Friday Fun. It’s been a real trip to dig through my archives and pull the stories from my memories.  For next week leave a number between 2000 and 3000 in a comment and maybe see your chosen image next week.

Which one is your favorite from this week?

Remember to check out the Geogypsy Facebook page for more photos.

 

Capturing the present for future memories of the past

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Gifts from the Earth, gathering for memories

Gifts from the earth are my favorites wherever I am. Traveling does reduce the amount collected but I feel the need to accept the gift for my memories.

Gifts from the Earth, shells, rocks, sea glass, drift wood, quils, feather

Living mostly in landlocked Arizona, ocean beach sand instead of desert sand intrigues me.  Yet even in the desert I may find sea shells.  Though I wouldn’t find a porcupine big enough to loose these quills or an ostrich to drop a feather.

 

How do you collect memories from your travels?

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Memorial to Carsondog – bears, bones, & balls

My Carsondog, oh how I’ll miss him.
Carson was diagnosed with a tumor pressing on his esophagus. There may be more. I believe it’s called lymphatic cancer. Nothing can be done, and it’s only a matter of time. I brought him back home Wednesday knowing I’d have to take him back, when I decide too. So that’s today, Friday, at 4:30pm, when I set his spirit free.

Carson at the Wind River Fleamarket Carson Washington Summer 1997Summer 1997 Carson, Washington

It’s been an amazing 11 ½ years. I’m so glad Carson picked me out of a litter of nine. From the spotted puppy wearing a beret and sleeping with a stuffed teddy bear bigger than he was. The watchdog in training who wanted to greet every person that came his way.

Carson at Fleamarket Carson Washington Summer 19971997 Wind River flea market Carson, Washington

Fetching a ball or stick until my arm wore out. And always wagging his tail so hard that his whole body wagged along. The first time he went to the desert and walked from shade bush to shade bush, or sat in my shadow. He’d shiver and run into the bus when the coyotes howled. Or sometimes he’d sit between Dale and I out at the campfire. I don’t know who was protecting who. Smart enough to teach himself how to sit up and beg.

Gaelyn & Carson Vicksburg Arizona Dec 20042004 Me & Carson Vicksburg, Arizona

Singing with the harmonica, recorder or ocarina, a D dog. Frolicking in the snow, pouncing on snowballs or gingerly carrying them back to me. No, he didn’t always come when he was called. But he did always come eventually. Motsy and he running together, sometimes both carrying the same stick. The adorable nine puppies they produced.

Motsy and 1 day old puppies Eagles Cliff Washington Sept 19981998 Motsy with 1 day old puppies

Carson at Crater Lake National Park Oregon Sept 2007Carson’s always been a traveler

“Get in the truck,” and there he’d be sitting in the passenger seat. Or the driver’s seat if it was empty. Nose prints on all truck windows he rode in. Asking to sleep on the bed when I was in it and treating it as his own when I wasn’t. Never chewed anything that wasn’t his. Knew the difference between my bones and his. Only once made a mess in the house and he was sick so couldn’t be faulted. He could hold urine for 12-14 hours, and then pee like a race horse. How he howled and cried when he ran into a pickup truck causing the pancake right rear foot. And when it got cold outside he’d run ever after with a hitch in his giddy up. Only in the last year did he learn to walk semi-nicely on a leash. And that with the help of neighbors and friends who walked him more than I did. So my fault that he’d tug and pull on the leash and one time pulled me to my knees to chase another dog.

Carson at Cave Creek Oregon Aug 20072007 Cave Creek campground Oregon

And how he loved to swim and chase sticks in the water. Even trying to pull roots out of banks that were underwater bubbles rising up from his nose. But he’d only go in the water if he could walk into it not jump. And he didn’t like the ocean. How he’d shake and cower during fireworks trying to hide in a space smaller than himself. Bumping his butt on anybody and anything, trying to scratch his g-spot. Looking at me in the mirror to ask permission to go upstairs into the bedroom. Playing fetch side by side with Kaley. Digging a hole in the earth under the trailer, his dog house. Wrapping his rope around trees, poles, stumps, rocks, even clumps of grass and undoing it when I wasn’t home but barking for help when I was. Whacking the empty water or food bowl to just remind me. Rolling in poop and dead things when he was young. Eating huckleberries right off the bush. Meeting a cholla cactus with his nose and patiently letting me pull out the spines.

Carson at Antilon Lake Washigton May 19991999 Atalon Lake, Washington

Chin on couch and sad eyes looking for attention. Laying still and quiet watching the birds. Slowly creeping forward on his belly when told to lie down and stay. Bringing toys to greet visitors at the door. The thump he’d make as he jumped off the bed when I’d come home. The crunch as he chewed on a bone. Barking at every dog that goes by. Stinky farts and “the look” that went with. How he held a pebble in his teeth to scratch his foot, then sit it down purposefully between his feet, wash and pick it up to do it again. How he cocked his head listening. His mixed message of back hair standing up in a stripe while tail wagged.

Carson Oct 2005 Yarnell Arizona2005 Yarnell Arizona

Those big beautiful soft gentle brown eyes. How he’d jump up and down but not on you. Well maybe your toes. I almost named him Tigger for that jump. All stuffed toys were bears and all toys began with a “b”: bones, balls or bears. A dog treat every morning after his first trip outside. Going to bed before me and getting up after me. Getting stung by bees after digging up a ground nest. Sniffing smoke: cigarette, campfire, diesel, smudge. Breaking his clothes-line rope and staying within his boundaries with two feet of rope dangling from his collar. Light brindled as a puppy, darkening as an adult and lightening back to gray as a senior. Snoring. Letting me wipe his feet. Scratching the door to go in or out. Learning how to lick his lips from Duece, Cyindi’s Rotty. The Vet gave him a shot to calm him and now he’s lying outside half in sun and shade sleeping, peacefully. The unconditional love. He never knew when he got a shot. Does he know he’s dying?

Carson enjoys the Yarnell Arizona spring sunshine March 20082008 Yarnell, Arizona

Rolling on his back, belly to the sun. Not eating 2 ½-3 days when I’d go away. I got a man in my life so I needed a dog in my life. Carson was around twice as long as the man. Gray brows. Someone to talk to, my companion and partner. Stepping over him and usually missing. Dog hair, my hair. Hair everywhere. It’s so hard. I really don’t want to do this again. My house will be so empty. Circle, circle, circle then lay down. Tripping me with his rope. Little kicks and murmurs when he’s sleeping, maybe dreaming of a big chase. Wearing my old Forest Service belt made into a collar. The yawn talk. Such a good boy. Silky ears. My labby mutt. Little woofers. Snapping at flies, afraid of bees and knowing the difference. Best friend. Bed warmer. Funny boy. Nose bumping my arm to get scratches. Laying touching my feet. Hiking………..

Carson at trailhead East Rim viewpoint GRCA Arizona June 2008Summer 2008

I dug a grave where Carson can watch the birds. I buried him with bears, balls and bones.

His spirit energy simply took on new form within the universe. But oh, how I will miss this simple form of mass covered with silky hair, tail wagging, and those brown eyes staring into my soul.

“And can it be that in a world so full and busy, the loss of one weak creature makes a void in any heart, so wide and deep that nothing but the width and depth of eternity can fill it up.”
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 –Charles Dickens
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