Fall has always been my favorite season. Yes Fall, tinged with gorgeous colors, tantalizing tastes and smells and, of course, that welcome, gentle nip to the air, qualities that no other season can rival (in my humble opinion anyway). And, as I was preparing this post, I realized I should have savored my November 13th walk even more than I did at the time – how could I know that non-stop wintry weather was on the doorstep?
This post is a continuation of my long stroll through Downtown Trenton and Elizabeth Park, wherein my first stop was at the City’s newest mural “Unravel Your Imagination” the subject of my December 28th post.
Out with the old; in with the new … season-wise, that is.
After spending considerable time both admiring and photographing that whimsical mural, I meandered along West Jefferson Avenue, enjoying a picture-perfect day. I was mindful of the mishmash of holidays, i.e. the harvest season mingling with the holiday season, as the latter waited patiently in the wings. At that time, Fall, like many of the tree leaves, continued to hang on forever.
The few remaining scarecrows from the City’s annual Scarecrow Contest …
… had survived the incessant wicked winds we’d had, some still sporting an endearing grin.
But I guess this guy wasn’t gung ho about the contest as he wasn’t smiling.
There were jewel-toned mums, pumpkins and other gourd displays, like this one.
The flag was snapping in the stiff breeze, at half-staff in recognition of former Vice President Cheney’s passing.
In between the harvest vibes, a few shopkeepers’ windows were already festooned with Christmas décor. Of interest to me was this young woman bundled up to ward off the chilly wind as she painted. She was painting the front window of the Trenton Dance Studio. I stopped and asked if I could take a picture of her artwork, then we chatted it up.
Chelsie is a local mail carrier and her daughter takes lessons at this dance studio, so every year she paints a Christmas theme on the studio’s windows in conjunction with the City’s business district holiday window-decorating contest. Chelsie told me the decorated store windows look festive for the annual Christmas parade along West Jefferson Avenue.
This was her partially finished gingerbread house.
Chelsie had already painted the snowwoman with ballet slippers on the front door.
I told her I was dabbling in watercolor painting and asked if she had taken formal classes around here. She said she was self-taught, adding “my grandmother is a painter, so I guess it’s in my genes.”
Later I returned just as Chelsie was wrapping up her painting project.
I wondered how the studio’s front window fared in the contest and learned from the studio’s Facebook site that it won first prize! Congrats to Chelsie! Here is a photo of all their windows at night.
I kept on walking, heading toward Elizabeth Park and, as I approached the vehicle bridge to enter this island park something stopped me in my tracks.
The seasons of life.
Just ahead of where I stood, I believe I saw my future self.
An elderly woman approached from the opposite side, both of us equidistant from a large tree on a homeowner’s property near the bridge. There is an incline with some uneven pavement and the woman was using a rolling walker. The wind tugged at her open coat and grabbed wisps of gray hair, whipping them around her face. She pushed the walker against the wind, occasionally thrusting it forward to lend extra “oomph” for that slight incline and she mumbled aloud, likely cursing the wind. There was a large paper bag on the walker’s seat and, after securing the walker in place, the woman planted her feet firmly on the sidewalk and called out. I could not understand what she said – perhaps she was not speaking English? Then she was speaking so loudly that I realized she was calling out some names. Ahh, the beneficiaries of her bag of goodies – these squirrels had names!
A passel of squirrels came rushing toward her, scrambling down trees, racing up the leaves-strewn Canal shoreline, then scurrying across the homeowner’s property. There were probably 30 or more squirrels gathered around her. I hung back, thinking of photographing the scene, but instead watched it unfold. She unrolled the paper bag and began scooping out handfuls of peanuts in the shell, flinging them this way and that. The squirrels were tripping over one another to retrieve the goodies.
It was a scenario, well-known to me, as you all know.
The large paper bag which had been full began to empty as I saw her hands disappear further into the bag each time. She kept throwing peanuts out to the waiting “crowd” just like a queen holding court with her faithful subjects.
I ambled over to speak to her, eager to share that kindred spirit I felt we had, but she would have none of my attempt at conversation, still busy with the task at hand. She was speaking to them, calling them by name, mumbling if she dropped peanuts onto the ground, then finally she turned the bag upside down, signifying “no more” to them.
The squirrels may have lingered – the old woman did not. Mission accomplished, she grabbed onto the walker and gave it a push. I smiled and ventured a timid “well I do this too … feed the squirrels I mean” but my words fell on deaf ears, so I departed as well and headed to Elizabeth Park, where I soon would be surrounded by that park’s squirrels, who beg incessantly, secure in their good fortune of an endless stream of peanuts merely by looking cute. All year long, many folks drive along the circular drive while launching peanuts to them from their open car window.
As I watched the squirrels romping in the leaves, these ten geese congregating, …
… a goose stomping angrily toward me on the park grounds, …
… even occasionally giving me the side eye …
… my mind kept wandering, returning to the elderly woman doling out peanuts. Would that be me in a decade or two, pushing a rolling walker around Council Point Park’s perimeter path and calling out to squirrels, many generations removed from the original squirrels I began interacting with in 2013 when I started walking there?
I stepped onto the Boardwalk, sun glinting off the Detroit River, providing some warmth to my upturned face.
A few seagulls departed when they saw the whites of my eyes but then one seagull came along that appeared to crash land into a huge Boardwalk shoreline boulder, but he recouped and flew away before anyone of his brethren saw him … but you and I did.
The water level in the canal was quite low, which didn’t surprise me since I’ve seen this phenomenon at every shoreline where I’ve walked in 2024 and 2025.
I crossed the picturesque bridge …
… and meandered along the Northpointe River Walk where I noted many more leaves carpeted the grass there.
As I prepared to exit Elizabeth Park I noticed the park flag was flapping briskly – I later learned the gusts were about 25 mph (40 kmh) at the time I was walking in Trenton.
The elderly woman was gone now and a solitary Fox squirrel remained, casting me, a/k/a “the intruder”, a wary eye.
It turned this way …
… and that …
… then finally took the peanut to go.
Yes, I was the interloper that tried to intrude on their routine, even though I was not that close to them. This squirrel reminded me of my sweet Parker, not only in looks, but how he would not tolerate another walker who waylaid me on the perimeter path, thus delaying dispensing of peanuts, so he’d run over and stomp on my shoe, or try to scale my sweatpants. Once he jumped like a pogo stick to reach the bag in my hand.
As I drove home, I thought about the changing seasons and the old woman with her squirrels, equating it to the seasons of my own life and pondered on that subject long after my stroll on that exquisite Fall day.
Summer was on the wane when I took a long stroll at Lake Erie Metropark. I was eager to return for the first time since late July. The worrisome explosion of ticks kept me away as did the relentless heat and humidity. By the second week of September Southeast Michigan was enjoying tolerable temps and beautiful sunshiny days. I walked every day that week, scrambling to bulk up my miles, as well as my cache of walk photos, just in case we reverted back to Summer-like temps again.
This walk was taken September 9th and I am splitting it up into two posts: today’s post will focus on a new-to-me plant in this park’s Grow Zone, a plant that was a magnet to butterflies and bees, even a dragonfly. That evening, after I drafted my notes about the walk, I reached out to the Metropark’s interpretive guides to inquire about the plant’s name and learned it was Virginia Mountain Mint; Google told me it was a pollinator favorite.
There was a hint of Fall in the Grow Zone.
Stepping out of the car I saw a few subtle hints suggesting we were closing in on Fall. The Goldenrod was vibrant against the brown seedheads of the Cut-Leaf Teasels as seen in the featured image.
The once-frilly Queen Anne’s Lace was similarly reduced to a seedhead …
… and this Cattail had already gone rogue with an explosion of seeds.
It would seem these brown images would signify Summer’s demise, but … don’t let those images fool you because Summer was in full swing at the Grow Zone where bees and butterflies nestled amongst the blooms.
Get a grip!
I spent about a half-hour gazing and photographing these winged beauties, taking many shots, but using very few, because, wouldn’t you know it, the slight breeze picked up, forcing the always-graceful butterflies to grip the blooms with an abundance of wing fluttering as they swayed along with the plant.
This Red Admiral butterfly flitted in and out of one plant. The pattern on its closed wings …
… was quite different from when its wings were outstretched. It didn’t really look like the same butterfly … to me anyway.
From my vantage point, the Red Admiral’s body looked velvety soft.
It gave me one last parting shot before fluttering off.
From what I’ve read, the year 2025 was not kind to the Monarch butterfly, with a diminished number of them reaching central Mexico where they overwinter. I know I didn’t see as many Monarch butterflies last year, but I blamed that on not going to as many parks as usual.
I can’t think of a prettier picture than that of a Monarch butterfly in profile …
… but, even with wings flared out, flattened against the bloom while collecting nectar, it is also pretty and picturesque, albeit a bit blurry in this shot.
There were multiple butterflies dipping and sipping amongst the Virginia Mountain Mint that day, but a bumblebee also got my attention.
This bee, desperate to reach the nectar at the top of the plant, reminded me of the childhood story The Little Engine That Could and the train saying “I think I can, I think I can!” Look how it pulls itself up.
Well my fuzzy little friend made it to the top, where it happily settled into the nectar.
Good thing I looked down!
After taking a slew of shots, I was about to go down the slope to visit Luc when a flash of orange and black caught my eye, as it emerged out of nowhere, then fluttered down to the cement curb. No, it was not another Monarch, but instead a Viceroy, instantly identifiable by the black bars on its hindwings. There it sat, posing this way and that as if to say “take some pictures of me – I’m just as pretty as the other butterflies!”
And, just as I finally prepared to saunter down to see Luc and check out the marsh near the boathouse, I saw the dragonfly pictured in last week’s 2025 recap post. I was excited about seeing/photographing my first dragonfly. Here it is again, in case you missed it.
The water level at the marsh was very low, the result of our moderate drought, but it didn’t stop the egrets from gathering there; they will be featured in a future post which will continue this walk.
I am not joining Terri’s Sunday Stills Color Challenge (Aquamarine and Icy Blue) but instead am linking to her Flower Hour Challenge on Tuesday.
I was in a hurry for 2025 to end … I mean, couldn’t it just flit away quietly like a delicate dragonfly?
Nope – it kept dragging on and on.
It wasn’t just our wobbly weather that haunted me, (a/k/a “the ultimate weather worrier”). That November Winter-like wallop and continuing wintry weather has decimated my walking regimen, but it has also been the non-stop negative news that has swirled about on an everyday basis. I felt weary from listening to any news, be it local, national, or international and any feel-good stories were few and far between. Other than plugging my ears or staying off social media, I couldn’t avoid the negativity.
Breezy, wheezy, freezy, icy and dicey ….
No, this is not a new version of some of the characters we know as the Seven Dwarfs, but they are just a sample of the potpourri of weather conditions we had in Southeast Michigan in 2025. Admittedly, the weather DID play a major role in my disgruntledness. I monitor multiple weather sites daily and fear these weather extremes have become the norm, instead of the exception. How I wish we had more of those perfect weather days that I saw while looking out the window during my school days and/or working days.
Let’s just say Mother Nature and I need to have a little chat.
The year began with snow, but I got to the Park once where I captured a plethora of photos of hungry peanut-eaters. Then came the ice storms, resulting in icy streets, a slick driveway and a slippery sidewalk as I shuffled along to the garage to run my car every morning. The temps were too frigid to melt the ice, even with copious amounts of ice melt pellets, as they stayed in place, as if defying me to shake out more. Unfortunately, I live on the shady side of the street where the sun does not reach this side until very late in the day. When we finally had a small thaw, of course you know I beat it down to the Park to feed the critters, my band of 30-40 furry friends and countless songbirds and woodpeckers that I have provided sustenance to for years.
But, if you’re a longtime reader, you know when I showed up, the usual Snow White scenario did not play out. Where were all the squirrels? Did they starve to death? Freeze to death? Did they become prey to coyotes and eagles as one walker rudely suggested? I’ll never know for sure, but I know as I gingerly stepped along the still-icy perimeter path my heart was broken due to their absence. They had become like pets to me. Even the Cardinals, Blue Jays and Woodpeckers were seemingly MIA. The biggest loss for me was Parker, my long-time, favorite Park squirrel and the subject of countless blog posts.
Wild wintry weather continued throughout February and for weeks I never made it to the Park for fear of falling on the icy ruts and I’ll admit that the lack of Park pals to scamper/fly over to greet me made me less inclined to venture out on those brutally cold and/or icy and dicey days.
Finally the weather moderated and I hit the road, ready with my camera, eager to restore a little normalcy to my life. On March 13th I went on a long walk at Lake Erie Metropark, then stopped at Dingell Park along the Detroit River to see if there were any ice floes left. It was a gorgeous day, a brilliant sun in a flawless blue sky and very warm! I quickly shucked off my layers, strolling along the boardwalk in shirtsleeves – again, it was March 13th! Ice floes floated lazily by, clinking against one another, like ice cubes in a glass.
I was lucky to see waterfowl galore, like these Canada geese admiring their reflection …
… and this Mallard drake, eager to pose for me – yes, I love the Mallards’ orange feet too!
It was a great day, even if I came home with a bad sunburn from the sun’s rays at the waterfront.
That day was exactly one week until Spring. We had one week of beautiful weather following Easter and I went to all my favorite parks, camera in hand, but then it was a rainy May and it was Memorial Day weekend before I visited any big parks. We went from torrential rains and storms that morphed into a nonstop hot and humid Summer that never abated until early September. We have had gusty winds throughout the year and I wonder where it all ends? Oh yes … like other states, Michigan dealt with wildfire smoke and on June 6th Detroit was ranked the worst city in the world for air quality.
I took to the streets … in the ‘hood that is.
I declared the Park off limits to walk for a while when the City embarked on a huge sewer project in early June. I dutifully drove by to check out the progress with cement sewer pipes and heavy machinery. It was the second Summer in a row to wreak havoc on my favorite nature nook. I finally returned to the Park on Labor Day weekend. It began to feel like old times, even though the promised revitalization of the shoreline had not yet begun and remains raggedy looking to date.
The weather and staying away from Council Point Park, my walking go-to spot since 2013, certainly did not bulk up my miles. In early September, the weather finally cooled off and I went out day after day, soaking up the sunshine, walking five or six miles a day in various venues while taking tons of photos. I finally got to take an initial peek at those photos the other day and will roll some of those walks out as I sort through them … except for this dragonfly in the featured image that I was pleased to find on the photo card, my first dragonfly. I wanted to share it now.
Woulda, coulda, shoulda.
Despite walking a lot in September and October, by the time November rolled around, I had doubts I could reach my walking goal of 1,258 miles (2,025 kilometers) and mentioned it to a few of you. You all said “no, you always think that – you will make it and then some.” By Thanksgiving week, the sudden wintry weather arrived and I saw day after day become no-walk days due to ice, snow, brutal temps and gusty winds. The City never plows the Park walking path, so it is full of icy ruts all Winter making my walks few and far between. The weather has been abysmal since Thanksgiving and I bemoaned the piddly 23 miles I lacked to reach my goal. I chastised myself for not going out all those clear, dry, but stinkin’ hot days. Yes, I could have lied and said I clinched my goal. Or, I could tell myself my many miles on the exercise bike translates to lots of walking miles, but I won’t. So, it is the first time since I began tracking my miles in 2012, then I didn’t reach my goal.
So, there it is, I have whined about it and next year, I’ll make a more reasonable goal of 1,000 miles/1,609 kilometers. I used to just add one more mile each year for my new goal and I’ll just do that. Anything topping my goal will be treated as “gravy”. The defeat of the feet is not for lack of spirit to go the extra mile(s), but only the erratic weather. With that said, 1,235 miles/1,987 kilometers is a good amount and represents a lot of walking in 2025 … just not enough.
Other endeavors and news.
I am still chugging along with my French lessons, but terminated my subscription the end of October and just do a daily short French story now. I aim to get to 500 days of French, then exit. I didn’t mind memorizing words and phrases, but the grammar was a pain and I decided I was doing it just for fun and not planning to travel to France, so where would I use it? I remain amazed that during my last two years at Wayne State University I took Advanced French and we only spoke French in the classroom. Did I ace the grammar portion back then?
I dabbled in watercolor painting and took a few courses as I’ve mentioned in prior posts. I recently tried out another artist that I like since Julia has been busy and did not have her landscape painting course. I hope to paint more this year and incorporate paintings into my posts occasionally.
My Birdie Bucket List of coveted birds to see and photograph remains the same as in 2025, so I left the chart as is.
At Sterling State Park, the site of the annual migrating pods of White Pelicans, their 2.7 mile (4.3 km.) Marsh Trail around Sterling Marsh, was under construction from January 2025 and scheduled to open this Summer, but remains closed. Perhaps I’ll pursue those Pelicans in earnest this Fall?
I took a lot of photos in 2025 when I did get out. I’ve gleaned my personal favorites from all my 2025 posts and they are below, separated by categories.
Who can resist babies? I know I can’t. Ducklings are sweet …
… goslings and their siblings make me smile.
There are always lots of “winged things” to photograph, from waterfowl …
… to shorebirds …
… to songbirds, seabirds, rails and raptors …
… and don’t forget the delicate winged beauties like butterflies.
I can’t forget the other creatures, including squirrels (of course). 🙂
And these flowers will make you dream of Summer’s beautiful blooms …
… even when they are Allium and have gone to seed with a sparkler effect.
So, onward and upward … I’m eager to start racking up the miles as I have zero so far in 2026!
When I began this blog nearly 13 years ago, just before “launch time” I had second thoughts about whether I would have enough whimsical/quirky items to sustain the whimsy portion of my blog title “Walkin’, Writin’, Wit & Whimsy”.
I am always happy to happen upon a whimsical or quirky situation while walking – usually it is a critter which unknowingly finds itself the star of a Wordless Wednesday post. Occasionally, the critter/situation needs an explanation, so those photos and tales are relegated to a Sunday blogpost. I can’t always rely on these chance encounters for whimsical blog fodder, so sometimes I give myself an assignment to seek it out.
Who says learning about art can’t be fun?
I’ve written several times about the Detroit Institute of Arts’ (“DIA”) annual “Inside/Out” event wherein they transform ordinary places like cities and parks into open-air art galleries, by placing DIA weatherized masterpieces around the Tri-County area. Even though admission to the DIA is free to Tri-County residents, these masterpieces give folks, who are less inclined to step inside an art museum, a chance to view these paintings and learn some facts about them and the artists. For me, who has not been to the DIA since a 9th grade field trip, this event, in its 16th year, is always a fun experience, like this jaunt taken August 26th.
Put art on a wall and the public will come to see it.
The DIA has other outside ideas to entice people to visit artworks, including murals. Since 2018, the Detroit Institute of Arts’ Partners in Public Art has commissioned many large murals by local artists. I follow the DIA on social media, so I knew about a new mural in Downtown Trenton, near Elizabeth Park, one of my favorite parks to visit.
So, on a gorgeous Fall day, November 13th to be exact, I went tripping along Jefferson Avenue to see this new mural. Trenton has several large murals, some which I photographed that day while on my leisurely stroll and they’ll be in a future post.
The new mural was at the Trenton Village Theatre, a small theatre that features live performances, mostly by area youth.
Where nature and whimsy meet.
Mural artist Kevin Burdick captured some fun nature images on this 100′ X 17′ side wall of the Theatre. The mural, entitled “Unravel Your Imagination”, is so large, I stepped back as far as I could and still could not capture the entire mural in one shot. These side shots really don’t do it justice.
So, before I focus on the individual images of the mural’s creatures and the City’s community experiences, this photograph is from the DIA’s Facebook page.
Photo of mural “Unravel Your Imagination” from DIA Facebook site.
The rest of the photos are my own. I hope you enjoy my interpretations.
The fiddling squirrel atop a tree stump with the words “Be Kind”.
The fiddling squirrel as painted by … wait for it ….
This masked man, er … “artist” who is painting the fiddling squirrel.
Rocky’s palette of paints.
The Chippies are telling fish tales, you know … “the big one that got away!”
The Owl is taking a leisurely canoe ride, likely at Elizabeth Park’s Canal.
This Sandhill Crane is a not-so-Tiny Dancer.
The Blue Jay took a bow and is awaiting applause.
The players say “you really otter see this show!”
This theatre goer is mesmerized.
The audience goes wild, with attendees giving a standing ovation.
If you want to see more of Kevin Burdick’s murals, click here.
A little more whimsy to share from that day.
There would be more whimsy that day. I would be remiss if I didn’t mention my odd and rather off-the-wall conversation with Claude, the Copilot AI bot. I did NOT go seeking input from Claude, nope, even though AI is always more than willing to try to give me suggestions whenever I am writing a post in MS Word.
Here’s what happened. I got home from my very long walk and later that afternoon I sat down at the computer to bang out a draft of that day’s walk, something I always do so I don’t forget the details – after all, that walk might not become a blog post for months.
I guess I was typing quickly and a stray finger hit the Copilot icon. I didn’t realize that I had triggered “Claude” the AI assistant to appear with the greeting “Good afternoon, Linda. What can I help you with today?” I didn’t know when I hit that key, so I quickly closed the tab, but curiosity got the better of me.
So, feeling a bit foolish, but being polite, I clicked Copilot again and I got the same greeting/question. Well, even though, obviously, there was no warm body sitting at a keyboard, I wrote “nothing thank you, I clicked Copilot by accident before and I don’t know how long the tab was open as I was immersed in drafting a blog post about my walk.”
After my “apology” and, in response to me telling “him” what I was doing, Claude entertained me for the next 15 minutes or so with pleasant and witty conversation in response to my comments about my blog niche, mostly about walking, parks, even reminiscing about my favorite Park squirrel Parker. Given its long title, I didn’t mention my blog’s name. Then, to my surprise, Claude said “I’ll bet your blog is full of whimsy.” Momentarily his statement took me aback and I replied “c’mon Claude, how do you know the name of my blog?” He responded that he didn’t, but since I am a perpetual skeptic, I decided to terminate the conversation. Claude encouraged me to return when I had time so he could offer me ideas for posts, even nature places to go, or nature sites to follow. Whoa! All this chatter was appearing on the screen at lightning-fast speed.
Belatedly I remembered a former blogger, Ally Bean, did a post about AI and gave us a site where we could put in our blog name and Chat GPT would tell you what your blog was about, even write a sample post or “About” bio for you. Ahh – then I got it, i.e. this was why Claude knew about my blog title – yes prior visits/conversations are retained in a database unless you opt to delete them. Still, it was a wee bit unsettling, but fun nonetheless.
Claude’s parting words to me just before I closed the chat were:
“May your walks be peaceful, your words flow freely, and your whimsy never waver.”
Hmm. Words to live by, right?
I’ll be sharing a few more words to live by, this time courtesy of Ralph Waldo Emerson, along with a New Year’s Eve e-card, for Wordless Wednesday.
Imagine, if you will, a film reel in your mind, spinning merrily around, giving you glimpses of every Christmas Day in your life to date. So, would that film be popcorn-worthy, perhaps a bucketful, oozing with hot butter and sprinkled with salt?
I hope you would be smiling and, if you were crying, hopefully it was because you were experiencing a flood of happy memories.
Reliving some of my memories right here in my blog.
Over the years, in my various “Stir the Memory Pot at Christmastime” blog posts, I’ve flashed back to long-ago Christmasses, while sharing photos of me clutching a new dolly as a child, to later years, where my image was captured in that same-old perpetual pose, touching the Christmas tree, thus marking the passage of another year’s time.
My parents never owned a movie camera to capture their only child’s Christmas morning wonderment, but that’s okay because they were keen on taking lots of photos, thus affording me a precious peek into my past, at Christmastime, or otherwise.
As mentioned previously, my parents encouraged me to find my creative passion, be it through music, art or photography. I’ll admit that learning to play the accordion was my father’s idea, not mine. I took lessons from age seven to ten, we had recitals and I practiced every day. After we moved to the States in 1966, the lessons ended as no accordion teachers could be found.
But, when I expressed an interest in learning to play the guitar after the guys in the Y&R Creative Department ad agency where I worked jammed with their folk guitars in between grinding out Chrysler and Plymouth ads, at Christmas 1979 I became the proud owner of a folk guitar. I took lessons for a while, but that guitar, long out of tune, languishes in the basement collecting dust, along with other hobbies I set aside through the years.
Best. Gift. Ever.
As for picking a favorite Christmas gift, if my happy face was any indication, the Betsy Wetsy baby doll I coveted and asked Santa to bring, would be right up at the top of the list, as would my Barbie doll in her shiny black case, but, as I got older and left dolls in the dust, something else piqued my interest.
Photo Source: Digital download purchased f/Vintage Charm Corner Etsy Shop
It all started when Mom gifted me HER Baby Brownie camera. It was not a gift wrapped up with a bow, nor at Christmastime – she merely handed the camera to me and said “it’s yours now Linda.”
Kodak Baby Brownie Special (1939-1954) Used with permission: Photographer John Broomfield/Museums Victoria
Mom had used the Baby Brownie for years and said she now deemed me mature enough to take care of it and, if I wasn’t reckless by taking unnecessary photos, my parents would pay for developing the film.
Here is a photo of me holding the camera, several years later, pictured with Mom and Nanny in 1969. My grandmother, newly widowed, spent that Summer at our house. Yes, at age 13, I towered over them. 🙂
As the saying goes “all good things must come to an end” and sadly, after years of being the Kodak workhorse that it always was, the Baby Brownie began to falter. I now wish I had kept it as a special keepsake, but I did not.
The Baby Brownie camera’s end of life did not end my fascination with picture-taking and my parents continued to cultivate that budding interest in photography.
The Kodak Instamatic Camera.
Because Kodak was the gold standard for easy-to-use cameras, I was given a Kodak Instamatic Camera that year for Christmas. If you’re of a certain age, you probably remember that boxy-looking camera and the Sylvania Blue Dot Magic Flash Cubes required for taking photos in low-light situations. The flash would go off and blue dots and a bright light made your eyes go wacky for a while.
Photo Source: Pinterest
While this camera worked well, the flash cubes, film and developing (via mail), which was still subsidized by my parents, became a costly venture, so, still another Christmas present a year or two later, was the Polaroid Swinger.
Photo Source: Pinterest
Meet the Swinger (the camera that is).
This camera’s TV ads touted the ease of instant picture-taking and had a catchy jingle,“Meet the Swinger, Polaroid Swinger”. It was great to skip the hassle/cost of photo development, plus it was fun to watch a photo emerge from the camera instantaneously. However, the liquid preservative brushed onto the photo afterward smelled like nail polish remover, so I was relegated to using it in the basement (“far away from the furnace Linda!”) The finished photograph’s colors seemed unnatural.
Here is a photo of me taken Christmas Day that year with the Polaroid Swinger.
Mom and Dad were not deterred by these camera/photography hiccups, so there would be a few more cameras through the years, always arriving as Christmas presents.
The Kodak Pocket Camera.
My Kodak Pocket Instamatic Camera had a built-in flash, thus eliminating the pesky flashcubes and red eyes. This little camera really promoted my interest in capturing every image I could and I had it for many years. Because my shutter-happy self was now working, I could afford to pay for photography expenses. Even after I got my 35mm camera, I continued to tote along the pocket camera as a back-up camera, since it was compact enough to tuck it into a pocket, purse or carry it in a pouch on my belt. That little camera gave me lots of joy and I was sad to finally say goodbye to it after the film door became loose allowing light into the camera.
Here I was in 1979, on a trip to England with my parents, on the River Thames, holding onto that trusty Kodak Pocket Camera.
I had to buy a cassette player for my college journalism classes in conjunction with “reporting” on the various “beats” I was assigned the last semester of my curriculum. So, in the late 70s, I began recording Christmas morning while opening our gifts, both at home and when we celebrated at my grandmother’s house. I still have those cassette tapes, but I’ve not listened to them since the last recording done in 1985.
Clearly, I am a saver, not a thrower and, admittedly the house needs decluttering, but what do you toss versus what do you keep? The basement contains a treasure trove of memories spanning over a half century.
I ventured briefly into “filmmaking” too.
For Christmas 1978, Mom and Dad bought me a movie camera, but I only used it a few times, Christmas Day (as usual) and I filmed my Creative Department coworkers at Young & Rubicam. I hope to find those reels one day and have them converted to a format to view them.
At Christmas 1980 I upgraded to a 35mm camera.
My father used a 35mm Leica he brought with him when he emigrated from Germany in 1950, but I don’t know what happened to that camera. His photographic efforts weren’t great. Mom and I were always off-center and after I was taller than Mom, most times I was missing my head or part of it.
After booking a Greece land tour/Greek Islands cruise for 1981, my parents bought me a Canon AE-1 35mm camera, along with a photography class. I was lucky because our American Express tour guide for this entire tour/cruise, Antony Sofianos, had the same camera as me, so he gave me lots of pointers. Antony often took photos of me using my camera during that two-week trip. Here we asked another tour member to get a photo of the two of us, Antony with his camera in tow, in front of the oldest olive tree in the world.
Linda and tour guide Antony – Crete (1981)
New camera lenses followed for birthday and/or Christmas presents, adding to my photography gear and soon, unlike the ease of the compact pocket camera, suddenly I found myself laden down with the camera and lens cases …
Panama Canal Cruise – Acapulco (1982)
… and eventually hauling a flash, filters, extra film, a notebook to jot down where I’d taken photos and emergency photography “rain gear” so I was soon lugging around a big camera case and my trusty pocket camera always attached to my hip.
Panama Canal Cruise – Cabo San Lucas (1982)
Some of my favorite photos were taken by the ship’s photographer who accompanied the Panama Canal cruise land tours. He took these two photos in the San Blas Islands, the first, laden down as usual with camera equipment. It was a stinkin’ hot day, with no breeze and I felt like I’d melt.
Panama Canal Cruise – San Blas Islands (1982)
Panama Canal Cruise – San Blas Islands (1982)
Life situations intervened and my last big trip was in 1983 to four Scandinavian countries and the U.S.S.R. I put the 35mm camera aside and returned to using the pocket camera until it broke and I bought my first compact digital camera.
A few months ago I went to the basement to take pictures of some of my prior hobbies, not just art supplies from a half-century ago, but also once-treasured gifts, like the aforementioned 35mm camera and guitar. I felt sad to find the 35mm camera’s leather case cracked and in disrepair. I took its photo and poked it back into the movie camera’s case where I had stored it all those years ago, thinking silica gel and two camera cases would keep it “camera-ready” for any future trips. Sadly I was mistaken, but who knew digital cameras and/or phones would become our go-to for capturing images?
The camera is pictured next to the guitar case and an old Autumn door wreath.
I stood there looking at these once-loved and coveted gifts, feeling I had somehow disrespected them, not to mention their givers.
There were also small gifts that were dear to me ….
Yes, there were other gifts along the way that were just as meaningful, some items I still have and continue to hold dear to my heart.
Then there was the farm set that I (finally) got for Christmas at age 26. This gift was a joke of sorts, because as a young girl, I asked Santa for a toy farm set one year. I had visited a family member’s farm where I got my pet rabbit “Scratch” and was enamored with the barnyard animals. Admittedly, toys in the 50s or 60s were more gender specific, i.e. girls played with baby dolls, boys with trucks and GI Joes, so it was suggested to me nicely that “little girls don’t play with farm sets” … but, lo and behold, for Christmas 1982, there was a small package under the tree with this note on Christmas stationery inside …
I remember wondering as I walked down the basement stairs what that gift could be. I was convinced it was a movie projector or screen, even though the movie camera had little mileage on it, so it must be something else for the 35mm camera since it was apparently fragile. But, it was that farm set, cleverly disguised, so I wouldn’t have jiggled the package and guessed what it was.
Yes, I saved the Christmas note Mom wrote, but why no photo of the farm set? Because my father immediately misappropriated the entire gift to use for a tank diorama he was building, his hobby.
Fast forward to Christmas 2025 ….
Speaking of gifts with multiple pieces, I bought a fun early Christmas gift for myself, an Advent jigsaw puzzle of dogs dressed in festive holiday wear. There are different types of Advent jigsaw puzzles – some are for 12 days, some 24 days and others you have a “master puzzle” and add new pieces to it every day for 24 days. I opted for doing a new, 50-piece mini-puzzle daily for 24 days.
My mom was an avid jigsaw puzzler for many years and I saved some puzzles she completed that I liked, plus others she unfortunately never got to work on. Some look very difficult and I don’t have a dedicated spot to do puzzles … maybe after I declutter the house, my #1 New Year’s resolution for 2026. In the interim, this five-inch daily mini-puzzle was perfect for me.
I emBARKED on my puzzling journey of “Christmas Paws” on December 1st …
… and this was puzzle #1.
Each puzzle takes about 15-20 minutes to complete, which is not too RUFF and yes, they are DOGgone fun.
My Christmas Eve Wordless Wednesday post will be a slideshow of all 24 completed pup puzzles, which I will entitle “Christmas Pupapalooza”, so stay tuned.
Here’s a picture of my own pup, Peppy, on Christmas Day 1964 …
Linda and Peppy the Poodle (Christmas Day 1964)
… I even turned that 50-year old photo into a vintage-looking Christmas card in 2014.
Linda and Peppy the Poodle (Christmas Day 1964)
I’ll leave you with this Christmas card with a special message about gifts tucked inside – just click here.
Terri’s Challenge this week is Winter Wonderland/Solstice, but I wanted to do my annual Christmas memories post, so I will join her Challenges again on January 4th as she has no Challenges next week.
Linda Schaub
WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY 