It seems to be a stereotype that many people do not (or didn’t) like school lunch. Eating the cafeteria food is often seen as a form of cruel punishment equivalent to pulling out fingernails and breaking knuckles. I will note here, that in grade school our food at school was incredible. It was a small private school and the food was actually the kind you looked forward to. Plus, my Mom was one of the cooks. Insert lunch lady joke here.
Galleries
A Stored Childhood
This time of the year includes so many great things. For many of us, it involves traveling to spend time with family. As in my case, it’s going back to my parents’ house where I grew up. Thankfully this year, I was able to do so again. I didn’t think it was going to happen for various reasons, but alas, my Daddy came to the rescue. There are the obvious perks to it, seeing family, the warm, fuzzy feeling from being able to spend Christmas with loved ones, and having that time to unwind in a different setting than where I actually live. It also brings out the curiosity in me to scour the basement and closets for lost items and forgotten treasures. It might be better than going to an antique store to peruse.
Where Does All The Birthday Glory Go?
Most people seem to not like their birthday because they don’t want to be reminded of how they’re getting older. Maybe, it also has something to do with how not that many people care it’s your birthday when you’re older. Remember when you were little and you would get birthday parties with presents and balloons and cake? How come most of us don’t get that when we’re older?
Hung With Care
Random bowl of ornaments.
Some people dread decorating for Christmas, buying or retrieving the Christmas tree from the garage or basement, digging through boxes to find ornaments, and having to string the lights to look the best on the tree. These things seem like quite a bit of work and may induce exasperated sighs, but I absolutely love all of it.
Since I moved to my own place over four years ago, the itch to decorate starts early in the holiday season. I, unlike others, do wait until December actually arrives though. My own home, to decorate how I please, with ornaments and festiveness of my choosing. I didn’t think it could get any better until the year I was given my Grandparents’ old ornaments.
The Story Is In The Shutter: Part II
After last week’s post on old photographs, it only seemed logical for this week to be about old cameras. (Very few things I do are logical, so take advantage.) These cameras produce those wonderful images and pieces of paper that speak more to a feeling than any contemporary photograph does. They have character and grit and substance.
The Story Is In The Shutter
My Grandparents on vacation in 1970.
Photographs not only hold images of our past and experiences, but keep memories and feelings fresh and help channel our reminiscence of those times. They are just paper and ink but are valued above most other things. Many times when people are rushed to escape from a crisis photographs are often grabbed first.
Contemporary cameras are all about pixels, multiple zoom, and auto-focus, promising crisp, clear pictures with the full color spectrum and detailing unmatched. This is all great and you can take some spectacular photographs, but what about those old cameras that gave us photographs with a little more character?
Packed, Latched, And Ready To Go
Foggy train station platforms swarmed with scampering travelers and misty-eyed loved ones saying goodbye dressed in hats and traveling gloves, toting sturdy, hard-shelled luggage and trunks. . .
‘Tis The Season
Chilled, ice shavings, swirling. . .
No, I’m not talking about making a drink, but about ice skating. Hat-topped people bundled in scarves and gloves, twirling and gliding, slipping and tumbling against a backdrop of 
pine trees and snowy hills is a magnificent scene to imagine. It is often portrayed in movies, books, or those miniature winter scenery figurines. It’s one of those scenes, though usually snowy and cold, that gives a person the warm fuzzies.
I have no great memories of ice skating on a pond or a local lake growing up, nor did I ever own a pair of ice skates. My only encounter with ice skating was when I was about eight years old and stayed with cousins in Kansas City. We all went to Crown Center where they had an outdoor rink. I remember there being a lot of people, most of them much bigger than myself, and my cousins leaving me in the middle of the rink amid the chaos of holiday skaters and atop the giant penguin painted under the ice. As an eight year old, this was very traumatizing. (Thanks a lot, cousins. You know who you are.) Somehow, I did make it back to safety.
Despite all of the above, my idyllic visions of ice skating were never stolen from me. 
Wanting to feel my nose and cheeks turning red from frosty air and light snowflakes while having enough skills to stay upright and have at least some movement over the ice. Passing other skaters while laughter and conversation filled the air. And somewhere nearby there would be a statuesque snowman decked out in winter attire.
It wasn’t until a few years ago, after having lived in California for a few years (of all places), that I found an outlet for my ice skating fantasy. Granted, no snowman, no snowy hills or pine trees, and no red-nosed skaters. Instead a backdrop of the beach, ocean, and palm trees set the scene for ice skating.
The rink is to the right.
Hotel del Coronado constructs an outdoor ice skating rink every year for the holidays, starting at Thanksgiving and going through New Years. There are skate times during the day, with a close and clear view of the ocean, as well as nighttime skating. I’ve been to both, and both are spectacular, but I think I prefer the nighttime. The ocean doesn’t show up in photos, but the Christmas lights are all aglow and there’s a different and more special feeling to it.
I conquered the ice! Bwhahaha! A snippet of the lobby of the hotel.
The hotel is gorgeous and their decorations are incredible. Holiday music floats above the slash of skates on ice. Some people are fluent on the ice, others stumble, but everyone enjoys feeling giddy and young again, as only an activity like ice skating can do.
I haven’t found anyone willing to go with me yet this year, but hope to make it back again. To conquer the ice once more.
And yes, all without falling.
Put The Top Down: 1950s
My ultimate dream car is a 1955 Chevy convertible in two-tone, preferably green and white (but who am I kidding, any color would do) with white wall tires. The big, yet skinny steering wheel, the push button radio, the hood ornament, the headlights, the tail fins, the cavernous front seat. . . I’m getting misty-eyed just thinking about it. Yes, I know, they’re not exactly “road friendly” but I suppose some updates to it would do the trick, because I would drive this – everywhere. I would eagerly take this car over any other car that could be offered to me. Of course, I just have to dream about, and drool at seeing, classic cars when I get the chance, because I think the chance of me ever having one is slight to non-existent.
Sealed With A . . .Digital Signature?
I have loved writing letters, real letters, ever since I can remember. I used to send away for multiple pen pals and relished in each letter I received, and in return, could write. When I was away at college, working at summer camps, and for a bit after I moved to California, my aunt and I would write letters to each other. For some reason or another, we don’t do this so much anymore.
Lovely Shades of Nostalgia 