Remember Frostline kits? My first down jacket was made from a Frostline kit. I loved that jacket. I was feeling nostaligic for it the other morning while walking Cammy. It was a nice sunny morning, cold but not bone-chilling. Perfect for my Frostline jacket.
Anyway, that’s me at 18 or 19 in the jacket … and Frye boots. What I wouldn’t give to have those boots back. My sister kept hers and her daughter has adopted them for her own. Putting them on and taking them off was torture, but what a look, hey?
Who would have imagined the ’70s would come back in style? At the time, the general consensus was that it was a real dog of a decade. In my experience, the worst thing about the ’70s was having to endure all the whining by people who came of age in the ’60s and hated hated hated the ’70s.
I don’t actually own a down jacket any more. If I could get a Frostline kit, I would make one. Sadly, they are no longer in business.
We brought back some photos from Oklahoma. The one above is Dave when he was about 8, I guess. Pretty cute.
Charlayne’s memorial service was beautiful. Cherie, Kelly, Tracy and Dave did the eulogy. Other people shared memories and stories; we sang a couple of songs. I learned a lot about who Charlayne was before emphysema made her life so difficult. It felt like a good “goodbye”.
While helping my parents sort through the tangle of their belongings in preparation for a move, we came across the set of watercolors pictured above. They were given to me for Christmas when I was around 7.
At that age, I loved to draw. Someone noticed and tried to give me the tools to develop my creativity. I treasured those little tubes, but I didn’t want to use them up and not have them any more. So I kept them safe. And they dried up.
I discovered their useless state when I was 19; I abandoned them at my parents’ house when I left for college later that year. It took time, but I did learn the lesson that in saving something for too long, we risk losing it. Thrift and caution are not always good.
I never had the pleasure of squeezing those bright pigments onto an artist’s palette and seeing them blend under the soft bristles of a sable brush. I have other watercolors now. I don’t use them often for other reasons, but I think I will get them out and see what develops.
Let me live in a house by the side of the road and be a friend to man
