Car Parts: The Steering Wheel and the Dashboard

Hydra-matic. Sounds so fluid. The definition at Wikipedia: the first fully automatic mass-produced transmission developed for passenger automobile use.

Do you really-young-blog-buddies know what N, D, L, and R stand for? I know you near-my-age-blog-buddies do.

Car Parts: The Hood Ornament and Chrome

Three views of an American automotive icon and ...
... a headlight.

... the rounded hood.

...an up close look.


Mama says she doesn't remember us having a Pontiac. Did you or your friends? Maybe you're a car collector, and you have one now. I'd love to read your memories or see your photos.

Car Parts: The Model Insignia

You know the model. Do you know the make? I think it's a 1950.

By the way, if you'd like to cast your vote for Best Fashion Blogger, please go here and vote for Wendy Brandes Jewelry. Take my word for it, she’s one fine, upstanding, dedicated, creative, opinionated, highly entertaining and often hilarious fashion blogger.

Car Parts: The Hubcap and The Tire

More car parts to follow.

Mt. Hood, in the distant sunrise, peeks between two nearby buildings

7:49 a.m., Jan. 4, 2009


I took six photos, deleted a fuzzy one. I put the fourth one first, out of sequence. Here they are in sequence, in a smaller size. This sunshine won't last all day, but while it's here, it's glorious!
7:44 a.m., Jan. 4, 2009

7:45 a.m., Jan. 4, 2009

7:49 a.m., Jan. 4, 2009

7:50.36, Jan. 4, 2009

7:50.53 a.m., Jan. 4, 2009


Which time do you like the best? I'm curious.

In case you want to read it, here's a sunrise poem I found online.

Sunrise

O rising Sun, so fair and gay,
What are you bringing me, I pray,
Of sorrow or of joy to-day?

You look as if you meant to please,
Reclining in your gorgeous ease
Behind the bare-branched apple-trees.

The world is rich and bright, as though
The pillows where your head is low
Had lit the fields of driven snow.

The hoar-frost on the window turns
Into a wood of giant ferns
Where some great conflagration burns.

And all my children comes again
As lightsome and as free from stain
As those frost-pictures on the pane.

I would that I could mount on high
And meet you, Sun--that you and I
Had to ourselves the whole wide sky.

But here my poor soul has to stay,
So tell me, rising Sun, I pray,
What are you bringing me to-day?

What shall this busy brain have thought,
What shall these hands and feet have wrought,
What sorrows shall the hours have brought,

Before thy brilliant course is run,
Before this new-born day is done,
Before you set, O rising Sun?

Frederick George Scott
(1861 - 1944)

I found this about Mr. Scott online, at various sites:

Notes on Life and Works

Frederick George Scott, known as "the poet of the Laurentians," was born in Montreal in 1861 and educated at Bishop's College, Lennoxville (B.A., 1881), and King's College, London (M.A., 1884). Made an Anglican priest in 1886, he become rector of St. Matthew's Church in Quebec city. He published 13 books of poetry in his lifetime. During the first world war Scott served as chaplain to the Canadian First Division and published his experiences in The Great War as I Saw It (1922). He died in 1944, leaving a daughter and four sons, one of whom, F. R. Scott, was a poet like his father.

And...
Canon Frederick George Scott was the padre of the 1st Division of the Canadian Corps and the confidant, friend and spiritual guide to many generals, officers and enlisted men during the war. When he returned from the war he continued to be revered by thousands. In 1934 he published The Great War as I Saw It, a memoir of his experiences. He is also known as a poet of religious, inspirational and patriotic poetry. During the Quebec Conference, held in the summer of 1943, Canon Scott was invited by Churchill and Roosevelt to a private meeting where he read some of this poetry.

The snow just won't go away ...

... no matter how much Duncan would like for it to disappear! I took this photo on his morning walk on New Year's Eve.

Not that he walked up onto this pile of snow in a parking lot across the street. I wanted a photo of him in/with/on the snow, so I set him on a small shelf made from some of that ice from the week before, imbedded in the pile when it had been shoved up into what the weatherpeople and/or reporters kept calling a snow berm. Not to worry, Duncan stood still for a few seconds, I snapped the photo, and picked up the little guy, giving him a great big hug of thanks!

I really thought I'd taken my last snow photo--ha!

Mama and I had never even thought about going out on New Year's Eve. I mean I'd made it through all of that snow and ice without any health disasters, and she hadn't been outside at all. Why would we take a chance? Why would we want the car over here in the land of scarce parking? We happily saw in the New Year with Dick Clark, wished each other "Happy New Year!" and went to bed.

At some point on New Year's Eve, it started to rain, I can't remember exactly when. When I woke up on New Year's Day, it continued to rain.

Then on New Year's night, we sat up playing cards first, Hand and Foot, then Scrabble. About 11 p.m. I got up from the game to take Duncan out which certainly didn't interest him. The rain continued to pour down, striking the sidewalk and splattering higher than he is tall. (Somewhere in there, a new 24-hour rainfall record for Portland had been set, 3.04 inches of rain in 24 hours; the monthly January average is 5.07 inches! It was announced on the 5 p.m. news on Jan. 2. I remember saying, "If it had been colder, we'd sure have a lot of snow!") Anyway, I had to walk out into the rain with him and set him beneath the hedge where he managed part of his business, then turned around and low-tailed it for the front door. Or should I say, tail-tucked it? You get the picture--he wasn't happy. Neither was I, dripping from the top of my hood to the tips of my sleeves. We dried him off and put him in his covers in Mama's recliner and went back to Scrabble, after I announced to Mama that it felt much colder than it earlier in the day.


We play on the kitchen table, and I sit beside the window. I can't help myself, I'm constantly looking out, especially when it's been raining, just to check the streetlight to see if it continues to come down. Some time in the next hour or so, I noticed something startling. I could barely make it out, through the sweating window, but I swear I thought I saw snow on the cars, sidewalks and street. Now, the weather report had mentioned the possiblity of snow showers, not sticking on the valley floor. We are a couple hundred feet above sea level here, so we're not smack dab on the valley floor. But. I pulled my "throw up the sash to see what was the matter" routine again, shocked out the wahzoo when I saw the snow in the streetlight and all over the place! Out came the camera, as well as my utter disbelief at what I was seeing. It was almost 1 a.m., and I kept thinking, "Well, I'm glad we didn't go to bed early or we'd have missed this!"

This is not rain, it's snow. I took the photo without the flash.

This is one with the flash. See the numerous flakes, some quite large?


I kept looking out the window, without opening it every time. Mama kept saying, "Look out the window when it's not your turn!"


We got to the end of that game--I can't remember who won--and I announced I was going to try taking Duncan out again. I thought maybe the snow would not bother him as much as the rain had. He made it just fine, thank goodness. I took him back in and went out again to take some more photos. I didn't see anyone else--it was so quiet that I could hear the ice mixed in the snow hitting my hood.

In the foreground, left, that's the snow berm I posed Duncan on for the first photo in today's post.


Gee, this looks lonely, doesn't it?


And a few minutes later, here's a better shot of Duncan's snow berm.


I was getting cold, so I took one more photo in the parking lot, of this pole with a shelf welded to it. You get a good feel for just how much snow had fallen in about an hour.


This street dead ends into our street, straight across from the parking lot--by the way, it's not a parking lot where you can rent a spot all day and night--it's for a business building, but you can rent a spot for the night which is of absolutely no help to us. That's Burnside at the top of the hill, where the service station lights shine in the darkness.


Here's our street. The streetlight on the right in the distance is the one I photograph from our kitchen window.


I like this shot of the intersection from a living room window.


By 2:45 a.m., it had started to rain again, and I soon went to bed, wondering what it would look like in the morning and saying to myself, "Thank goodness I'm not working on Friday!"

Balance, a pertinent concept for 2009

New Year's Resolutions? Why weight yourself down with that word, resolution?

I prefer the word concept, as in, according to Merriam-Webster Online, something conceived in the mind, a thought, a notion; or an abstract or generic idea generalized from particular instances.

So, I'm here to say that in my mind, balance is the watchword in 2009. For me it's not abstract, it's particular. As in balance between eating and exercise, being creative and being lazy, being curious and being dull. I guess you could say, though, that I'm really leaning one way on those last two, towards being creative and being curious. Maybe it's abstract, after all. Lots about life can be, can't it?

I took this photo on Dec. 31, walking along NW 23rd, after having walked to the pharmacy to get a refill of one of Mama's prescriptions. I took a circuitous route back, looking for two things, exercise and photo ops. It's a good thing I did that yesterday, because in the last 24 hours, we've had 1.33 inches of rain in Portland, with the certainty of much more in the next 24.

Do you go out on purpose, looking for things to photograph?

Twas the night after Christmas ...

Twas the night after Christmas, when all through the apartment
Not a creature was stirring, not even our little dog Duncan
The covers were pulled up to our chins with care,
In hopes that sweet dreams soon would be there;
Mama and Duncan were nestled all snug in their bed
While visions of past meals danced in Duncan’s head
And Mama, a book in hand, rested her head beside the lamp
Situated on the side table where she could turn it off with a snap,
When out on the street there arose such a racket
I jumped out of the bed, thinking “This just won’t hack it!”
From window to window, I looked in a flash,
I found the noise source and threw up the sash,
The corner streetlight illuminated the snow
Making it easy to see the car and two people below
I knew in an instant there’s a photo opportunity here
So I turned for my camera that is always so near
With a space heater behind me, I knew I’d have to be quick
To get photos of the car driving across the snow, still thick
More vehicles drove by, northward on NW 22nd they came
And the car’s driver tried to keep them moving, waving her hand;
Now pickup! Now sedan! Now, passengers, women and children!
On mini-vans! On SUVs! Mostly driven by manly men!
To the corner and onward! To their destination they hauled!
They dashed away! Dashed right on away, one and all!
As the car’s driver kicked at snow beneath the back wheels
The other person stood by, rocking back on her heels,
So imagine their surprise when no one they knew
Got out of a mini-van, a paper bag to them he threw
And then, in a twinkling, I heard him say, from up near the roof
“That’s kitty litter. It’ll work. There’s the proof!”
As he pointed at the mini-van, turning around,
And into the driver’s seat he landed after a bound.
On the sidewalk a man warmly dressed, from his head to his foot,
Walked up with a dog wearing a coat on a night dark as soot
A red light flashed on his collar at the top of his back
And he looked like a downed Rudolph leading the pack
The man’s desire to help led to discussions most leery
Until two other men agreed to help in a hurry!
The driver stationed one man on the side of the car, low
To keep the car from sliding sideways any more in the snow
Kitty litter spread front of both back wheels, and beneath,
Two men at the back of the car to push with all their worth,
Nearby the car’s other person patted the dog on its belly
I snapped photos, thinking “This is like a show on the telly!"
I’m chubby and plump, but jolly proud of myself
As I silently recorded the episode, in spite of myself;
By that I mean my fear of heights is not all in my head,
But living on the 4th and top floor no longer fills me with dread;
I spoke not a word as I went about my serendipitous work,
Didn’t want anyone to wonder who’s that with the camera, a jerk?
And laying her foot on the pedal, across the snow the car goes
With those three men pushing just right, out of the drift it arose;
She drove to the corner and stopped as the brakes whistled
And jumped out to shake hands, flying like the down of a thistle.
Both women got in the car, ere they drove out of sight,
I heard, “Thanks to everyone and to all a good-night!”

Before we get to the photos, I thank you for indulging me in my parody of the Christmas classic, "Twas the Night Before Christmas."

Here are the photos I took from just before midnight until a little while after midnight, the kitchen window up all the way, and the space heater heating my backside.

The two people and the car across from the kitchen window, the one I'd been using to measure the snow in previous posts.

The tail lights of mini-van whose driver donated the partially used kitty litter.

Waiting for a passing car to get out of the way, you see the driver by the car's open door, the car's other person with the man's dog wearing the blinking red light on its collar, the man positioned beside the car to try to keep it from sliding into the parked green car, and the two men at the back of the car. You can see the kitty litter bag on the snow piled up beside the sidewalk, between the two men waiting at the back of the car.

Pushing, pushing. Almost there. That strip of packed, icy snow in the center of the street proved to be an obstacle when the car's people had tried it alone.

But with the help of the kitty litter and the three men, success!

The car stopped beneath the streetlight.

Here's the shot where the driver's shaking hands with the men. Does flying like the down of a thistle describe this blurry photo?

Both of the car's people are inside now. Notice the snow toupee's shape, sort like a snow mohawk.

Before the car drove out of sight.

Here's a shot of the kitty litter, the car that narrowly missed being slid into, and the car that took over the parking spot.


Happy New Year, everyone!

Portland's Christmas Tree, my last two photos of it in 2008

Right after I took each photo, I caught a MAX train at Pioneer Courthouse Square. Thank goodness! I got closer to home that way which meant fewer blocks to walk on these two days.

Dec. 26, 2008

Dec. 22, 2008

Saga of the changing snow toupee on the red truck

We're going backwards in time here, starting with a bald red truck, on Saturday, Dec. 27, a week after the first photo below. The truck certainly looks clean, to have been buried beneath snow for a solid week!

Blurry, early morning shot from Dec. 26, as I left the building to head to work. I couldn't resist this much smaller version of the snow toupee.

Christmas Day reveals a bit of a receding hairline for the snow toupee on the red truck's passenger side.

This photo taken one week ago today shows how much snow rested in the pickup's bed as well as accentuating the toupee-look, from the back window up. It sort of reminds me of that haircut, I think it was called a fade. Anyone? Anyone?

About 12 hours later, look how much snow has stacked up on the truck!

Saturday, Dec. 20 and the first photo I took of the red truck with a light coating of snow. I think it ended up snowing four to six inches that day.


Thank you for your indulgence of all the snow photos. I'm saving some other snow shots for later in the week. The D50 will soon be off for it's check-up, cleaning, etc. I don't want to use up all of my photos too quickly. I do have the CoolPix L12 to use to take photos, but it's certainly far from the same process. I'll make it just fine, though, because I know how important it is for the D50 to be serviced.

Photos from Christmas Day, Dec. 25, 2008

First, let me say with the weather making travel at best a pain in the butt, at worst potentially dangerous, Mama and I knew we'd be spending Christmas Day at home. We told the guys that if we got to see them, fine and dandy, but to please not take any chances coming over here. So, that morning when I took Duncan out, right after I took this picture of the red truck still wearing its snow toupee (so aptly named by AVCr8teur’s Own Little Universe and come back tomorrow for more on the red truck and various snow toupees), Leland called to say Merry Christmas and that they'd be over later on.

I suggested that they come in a couple of hours and we'd have a great big breakfast-style brunch. And that's what we did! The three of them rode the bus and/or walked over. I cooked sauteed sweet onions and potatoes, a slice of ham, some sausage patties, canned biscuits and scrambled eggs. While I was cooking, Leland and Kailey ate salsa and Fritos. I knew I shouldn't pass up the chance to take some food photos, so here they are. I took the lid off the potatoes and onions so that you could see them.

These eggs ended up in the empty skillet. Oops--sautee pan.

This is the first time I tried cooking two cans of Grands in two pans at the same time. As you can plainly see, there's not enough room in the oven!

Last food-oriented shot. I couldn't stop to take any after everything got done--who wants cold breakfast food that's not Raisin Bran?

Look what happened while I was cooking! It went on for about 40 minutes, quickly making the cleared off sidewalks and pavement white again.

And there's the car across from the kitchen window, still thoroughly snow-coated. More on the car tomorrow--be sure to come back for the adventure! Will they? Won't they? You'll see if you come back!

If memory serves, this is the last time the snow looked pretty. More on that tomorrow, too.

When everyone was nice and full, we watched "Mamma Mia." The guys endured the chick-flick pretty well. Mama dozed off and on, and at the end said, "I don't know who wrote that music, but I liked most of it." She's a hoot! The kids suited up for home after that extra-special laugh. Here they are on the sidewalk across from the kitchen window and the car I've been shooting as a way to measure the snow.

All in all, our Christmas Day was low-key, memorable, just right. Kailey, Leland and Lamont made it home safely, which certainly made everyone very happy.