The Clock

When I was about 10 or 11 years old, my father gave me a ships clock.  I have no idea where he got it, but I’ve had it almost 50 years.

The clock indirectly caused some concern to my daughter’s first grade teacher when she was teaching them how read an analog clock.  The teacher asked the kids to draw a clock face showing 6 o’clock.  My daughter drew the clock hands; big hand straight up, little hand pointing to the right.  This was, according to the teacher, wrong.  The teacher then asked the kids to draw a clock face showing 12 o’clock.  My daughter drew the clock hands; big straight hand up, little hand straight down.  This was, according to the teacher, wrong.

By then, my daughter was a bit frustrated and this resulted in a letter coming home for either my wife or I to sign.  The note said something about her irrational insistence that her drawings were correct.

I took the clock off of the wall and the next morning, I brought my daughter (and the clock) to school.  When I showed the teacher, she was surprised.  “I’ve never seen one of these before.” was her comment.  Once I explained the difference between 6pm and 6am on this clock, she went on to say she now understood why my daughter kept asking, “Morning or afternoon” for each clock face, but the teacher still said my daughter’s clock drawings were incorrect.



About 5 years ago, the clock stopped working, but I didn’t do anything about it at the time.  As they say, “Even a broken clock is correct sometime.”  In this clock’s case, it was correct once per day.

A few months ago, I finally got tired of the non-working clock and took it to a clock repair shop.  The clock maker had to fabricate several new parts to get it working, but three months later, it’s back home and working perfectly.

I’m sure my dad, if he was still alive, would be glad to know that his gift to his then young son is still cherished.


Corn Plant. Part 3.

I have been keeping the soil damp around the dog damaged corn plant and today I noticed a small green sprout sticking up through the soil.

I have moved the planter to a new location where the dog shouldn’t want to jump up into it to look outside and I’m hoping the plant will be able to grow tall again.


May 26, 2018

Each May 26 and October 31, I take “Book 1 of my life” off of the shelf for a moment and remember.  See  Book One — The Ending

This year, May 26 was a Saturday, just like it was in 1984.  I snapped this picture with my cell phone camera from the North Rim of the Grand Canyon.  It was my moment of “remembering book 1”.   It’s not the ocean, but that’s OK.  It will do.



Corn Plant Setback.

The corn plant suffered a setback today.  It sits under a window next to the front door and today my mother in law came over.  The dogs, seeing her walk up to the front door, got all excited and one of them jumped up into the plant’s pot.  The 4 inch tall shoot was broken off of the old buried piece of corn plant.



Old Family Photographs and Memories

After collecting all the photographs taken by my grandfather, my parents, myself, my wife, our daughter, my in-laws and my “almost in-laws”, I have a “reservoir” of probably 20,000, maybe even 25,000 photographs to consider scanning.

Most are either Kodachrome slides or film negatives, both color as well as black and white and several ferrotypes and daguerreotypes in there too.  The daguerreotypes date back to the late 1850s and 1860s and are of people in US Civil War military uniforms.  So, the images span a time frame of more than 150 years.


For the project, I purchased an Epson V850 scanner, several cans of compressed air (to get the dust off of the film) and several boxes of the white cotton gloves (so I don’t damage the film with fingerprints).  It turns out that the local camera store had everything in stock and at the same price as “on the internet”, so I bought it locally.

I also purchased three 6TB USB drives.  My plan is to duplicate the contents on all the disks and keep one at my mother in law’s house.

There is no way I’m going to scan *all* of the images, so I’ve set up my grandfather’s light table and I’m just looking at the images so I can get a good idea of what I want to scan.  No matter what, I’m going to keep the originals in archival storage…so that I can go back and scan an image that I originally decided I didn’t want to scan…and so that if technology moves on and renders the USB drives unreadable, I’ll still have the images.

Thankfully my parents and grandparents kept detailed daily diaries and notes regarding the photographs, so I should be able to figure out the “who, what, when, where” and maybe even sometimes the “why” of the photographs.

Looking at the old family photos has brought me feelings of amazement, lots of memories, some discomfort and in the case of three images, tears.

It Lives

Back in March I posted that my 35 year old corn plant had died and that I threw it out.

Dracaena “Corn Plant” Post

What I did to “throw it out” was to dump out the soil from the planter and spread the soil out on the ground.

Today I was out in the back yard and I noticed a 2 inch (5cm) tall corn plant shoot coming up where I had dumped the old soil.  I got a new planter, filled it with new soil and very carefully made the transplant.

The root ball was small enough that I did not disturb any of the roots, so it should do just fine.  I sure hope so.

More Dad Pictures


Here are some more pictures of my dad.  I remember him telling me about this one.  He said the day before he finished boot camp, everyone was marched “home” where they got cleaned up and then donned just the uniform blouse and cover for pictures.  They then put the uniform back into their foot locker and went back to training.   He said the next day was the first time they were allowed to wear the full uniform.

So, this picture was taken in October 1934 when he was 21 years old.  He started boot camp in March, but was held back for 3 months because of a severe arm infection.




I’m guessing this picture was taken sometime in 1944.  He would have been 31 years old.