The Ohio River

Late last summer while I was in Huntington attending my high school reunion, I went with my sister to have dinner at a restaurant located near the river. Actually it was ON the river but I didn't realize that until we were seated and preparing to order. As we were looking at the beautiful view of the river, a boat approached and we began to rock. I looked at my sister, who was talking on the cell to my California sister, with a look of panic. As she continued to talk, I jumped up and went to the bar to ask why we were rocking. The bartender looked at me like I was nuts and explained that we were on a barge. Okay, I admit it, we did walk on a plank to enter the restaurant, but I didn't get it. Although I loved the view, I just can't have dinner on something that moves when a boat zooms by causing the diners to grab their wine and hope the flounder doesn't land on your lap! Besides, I HATE boats!

Fortunately, I had my camera with me and I was able to convince my sister to go with me to take a few quick shots. This is the actual view.

This image was changed to sepia, giving it an older, more vintage look. Notice the boat in the background? I think it takes away from the story of the image. I wanted the focus to be on the three guys fishing...so in the next image, I removed it.

I added a filter to the next image. It has a kind of faded look. I'm not liking it. The image below retains some of the color, but still has a filter. I like it, but still like the original one best. I'll just keep experimenting.

By the way, we had dinner several hours later, downtown. That is, after my sister had an encounter with another driver...he should never have honked. It's a long story. I told her I wouldn't tell.

He Said, She Said

I got the inspiration for this blog from my husband, Tom's, blog. (http://www.tommyhamrick.blogspot.com/) He usually writes about the happenings in the world of shag, but since there were no major events last weekend, he decided to write about his family vacations to Windy Hill Beach every fourth of July. He explains that the reason for the same week every year in July was because his father worked in the cotton mills and they always shut down for the week of the fourth of July. Newberry, South Carolina, was where he spent most of his childhood and he talks about what a great town it was to grow up. I think he said, "I wouldn't trade growing up in Newberry for anywhere else in the world."

So then I started thinking. I grew up in Huntington, West Virgina and I think my town was a great place to grow up. We had sidewalks and lots of grass with clover for the bees...just enough for us to get stung at least three times each summer. We had bikes and skates and played hopscotch on the sidewalk in front of our house. The only establishment that I know of that closed during the week of July fourth was Jim's Steak and Spaghetti House on Fifth Avenue, so the week of the fourth was just like any other week, except for the fourth and that was always fun.

My family didn't go to the beach in the summer or any other time, for that matter. My father worked for the C&O Railroad so we could take our vacations anytime during the summer, and it wasn't to the beach. My parents weren't beach people. Daddy was of Scottish descent and mother was Irish. Needless to say our skin was very, very, white and daddy always talked about how the sun wasn't good for our skin, and that was in the 50's before SPF 75. For some reason, my father liked to take his vacation over Labor Day. Since my oldest sister lived and lives in Connecticut, we rode the train to Hartford via New York City, where we had to change trains. He arranged it so that we arrived at Grand Central Terminal in the morning, took a cab to Penn Station, checked our luggage in the lockers, and set off for an adventure. My mother usually took my middle sister, Janie, and they went to sites unknown; while daddy, on the other hand, was stuck with me. I remember one trip when daddy took me to Hayden's Planetarium. Because he had one vodka drink too many on the trip from Huntington to NYC, he fell asleep and snored during the program. I was so embarassed. I could write lots of stories about our adventures in New York, but I won't bore you. My point here is that we never vacationed at the beach. In fact,the first time I went to Myrtle Beach was the summer after my freshman year in college. That was the first of several summers that my friends and I worked there.

Although I never made it to the beach as a child like Tom did, we still had fun in Huntington over the fourth because we had great food like hot dogs and potato salad and fun stuff like sparklers. I thought that was the best ever. I can still see the lightning bugs blinking as the bright sparks from the sparklers shot into the black sky.

Below is a picture of me (age 5) in my first two piece.

Here I was dressed and ready for the beach, but I just didn't know where it was! Ignorance is bliss. Tom and I are lucky to have grown up in two towns that we both love. We had normal childhoods where we could run and play with our friends and we were safe. But I have to say, I wouldn't trade growing up in Huntington with any other place, and that includes, you know where!