Three and Four

Sadly, there are no photos of cars three and four, so you'll have to use your imagination. Shed no tears. These were not photogenic vehicles. When the Fiesta tanked due to something called piston scoring, we were looking to buy a house and didn't want to cloud up our financials with a car loan. So we paid my in-laws too much money for their spare car, a '78 or '79 Ford Ltd. It was approximately three times the size of the Fiesta so driving it was quite an adjustment. It was handy for hauling a bunch of drunken people home from downtown. The most notable occasion being my thirtieth birthday when I believe there were nine people in the car. Singing rather loudly. No one was injured and, yes, I was sober. There's some irony, acting as DD on your own milestone birthday. It was silver, or more correctly, silver was the original color. There was nearly as much red primer visible which gave it a festive, two-toned appearance. It sported a burgundy vinyl roof which was tattered to the point that it looked like it was always having a bad hair day. It served us reliably for close to five years. When it became less than reliable, I called my friend, maid-of-honor, and car sales professional, Brenda, and asked her if there was any possibility of trading it off. The answer was yes. We abandoned the Ltd for a cute little Ford Escort station wagon in black that was a couple of years newer. It was back to a stick shift which I enjoyed. It was the shortest relationship I had as far as cars were concerned, I drove it for just a couple of years. Then we sold it to a family member after we had fixed everything that could possibly go wrong on a car in such a short span of time. She enjoyed it with our blessings. And she paid more for it than we asked. Which is one of those odd things you don't question on your way to the bank with the check. Particularly because we had purchased a mini van the day before to accommodate our two child family. And written a check for more than was in our account. There are many photos of the van. And I know you just can't wait to see them.  

Car #2

I didn't intend for this to become a theme. Let's just call this an inadvertent theme. Any time you call something first or one, it just feels obligatory to continue counting. This was my second car, a 1979 Ford Fiesta. It was a terrible car. Didn't get the gas mileage I expected, wasn't built for the cold South Dakota winter clime, and let's not even mention the 22.75% interest rate I forked over on the loan. But boy, was it fun to drive. I learned the manual transmission in this car and hauled more stuff than you can imagine in the roomy hatchback. Scribbled on the back of the above photo, Steve & Curt putting in my antenna March 1982. Steve was my boyfriend at the time. I found it amusing to see my itty bitty car with its doors all open and legs hanging out on either side. 

They were not amused. A couple of guys, one of them well over six feet tall, were contortionally wedged under the dash in order to do moi a favor. And I was taking pictures. And probably snickering. All I can say is, if I hadn't grabbed my camera, there would not be a photographic record of this car. I took it on many road trips, including Arizona in August. Which painfully pointed out to me how impractical black vinyl seats are when you park in the midday desert sun. In my personal life, this car took me from first serious boyfriend to the man that I married. Who gleefully informed me that there were motorcycles with bigger engines than my car. I shot back that it isn't always about size. That I'd rather be in my car during a pouring rain than on a motorcycle. It significantly detracts from your badass persona if you deploy an umbrella while riding.

One other thing about this car...my brother Cullen and I were roommates for a couple of years in this duplex that had a long driveway with just enough of a grade to it that I could pop the clutch to start it while we were rolling backwards to the street. Once morning while giving him a ride to campus he remarked that I wasn't a normal girl after observing my nonstandard method to start the car. One of the best compliments ever!

My First Car

Fall of 1977 in Williston, ND. Grandma Esther likely snapped this pic. Probably the first road trip in my 1974 Chevy Nova. Looks like we are engaging in the midwestern ritual known as the Norwegian goodbye. We say goodbye in the house, then out in the yard, then we snap a photo to commemorate the event, then we get into the car and roll down the windows to wave and say goodbye one more time as we are pulling away from the curb. We continue to wave as we make our way down the street until we are out of sight. Then we wipe our eyes and noses and settle in for the hours-long drive. Variations on the Norwegian goodbye can include prolonging the process by one or more of the participants going back in the house for a forgotten item or to use the bathroom, or for the host to run back into the house to fetch a bag of sandwiches or perhaps cookies for the travelers to enjoy on the trip home. Sometimes the trip home is less than half an hour in duration. Food is love, doncha know.
  

She's a Natural

i know, everyone in the world has seen this video at least twice. But this song brings up so many memories for me. Carole King's Tapestry was one of the first dozen or so albums I owned. I played it so much I wore it out. Don't worry, I have long since replaced it on cd. I loved singing along, especially the ah-oop background vocals. Now I want to see, no, must see Beautiful. This is the music of my youth, people. Click on the arrow. You know you want to hear it again.
                                                                                                                   

States I Have Visited

Create Your Own Visited States Map

For those of you who need/like/appreciate a visual of this, here I go fulfilling your fondest dreams once again. I know that's why you show up here so I'm happy to oblige. Click on the link and make your own map. These things are fun. And fun is good.

Altar in the Snow

I have a habit when walking out in nature of picking up objects and examining them. Sometimes they end up in a pocket and come home with me, but most of the time I construct a tiny altar for the wind to toss at will or for another human or wild creature to happen upon. This one was in the woods of central Wisconsin around Christmas, 2002. I had my camera along hoping to photograph deer or other wildlife on a hike. When the deer were scarce I found myself gathering pine cones and marveling at the variations on their design. So many conifers, so many cones. When I came across this stone it seemed an appropriate spot to arrange them along with a stick I had collected along the way. I just put up my new calendar in this room, and there is a paragraph suggesting a winter meditative walk outdoors this January. Remembering a winter walk from years ago, I hunted down this photo. Quite often when I contemplate incorporating a spiritual or thoughtful activity into my day, I discover that there is an echo of familiarity. Deja vu. I have been here before, or somewhere very like this. I love that our brains are busy recording and tucking away all kinds of information even when we are consciously going about doing other things. Then something as seemingly trivial as a smell or a bit of music will call forth a long secreted away memory. I want to find a couple of hours this January to go for a walk outside. Maybe build a tiny altar and come home with other treasures in my pockets. Maybe take my camera. Maybe not. I'll have my senses and my brain along, sometimes what they capture and retain is much more sublime.

Hello, 2016

Though we met in passing before I went to bed earlier today, let's take the time to get to know each other. Just before I woke up, in my dream John Cleese walked up to me and handed me a mimosa, grinned broadly, and walked off into a crowded street. Earlier in this dream I discovered my cat, Einstein, has been living happily in my car these past months. I'm taking these as harbingers of you being a most excellent year, 2016. Also, I awakened breathing through both nostrils and hearing through both ears. Meaning that the nasty cold that descended upon me Christmas day has cleared off. 2016 and I are engaged in a happy dance around the kitchen. Join us, won't you?