This morning's frostscape

The weather is still bitterly cold. It's expected to warm up by Monday to a high of 0°C (32°F) and then descend into the deep freeze again. This, along with reduced winter daylight, is what I like least about living in Ontario. The office is bright and warm this morning. I feel no inclination to go outside.

Last night I went to the monthly dance. Approaching the hall I saw a full parking lot and expected a busy night, but it was a moderate crowd overrun with women. I told Ray about the misleading parking lot.

"The lesbians all brought their big trucks," he explained.

Last month I flirted with a cute bearded cowboy trucker from Barrie who came with J and his partner. J and I flirted, too, as usual. Referring to his partner, J called their guest "the middle of our sandwich."

Last night when I walked over to greet J, he groped my ass and said, "E says hi."

"The trucker from Barrie?" I asked, unable to suppress a grin.

"Yeah. He's stuck on a gig in Pennsylvania, otherwise he would have come tonight. He hopes he can make it next month."

Interesting, but I ought to remember J has been teasing me for two years. He probably just wants me to join the gay bowling league.

Bob and Mark are vacationing in Costa Rica. Les didn't show up. Neither did Matt. Mostly I played busboy, hung out with Ray and Jon, and stayed to the bitter end to carry Tammy's DJ equipment out to her pickup. Ray drove me home again.

Family photography

Inspired by susandennis's post on photography, The Family of Pix.

I inherited photography from both sides of my family. We always had lots of photographs, in fact I have an album with pictures of many ancestors I never met. One of the oldest photographers I knew was my great grandfather, William Kenneth Ford, who I called Poppy. He lived in Windsor, Ontario, but worked as a draftsman in Detroit. Every day until he retired at age 75 he walked through the tunnel under the Detroit River to the Penobscot Building. Working in a patent office, he had access to many new inventions. He even had an early home movie camera. Here is a still photograph he took of my great grandmother, Laura Mary (Frederick) Ford, who I called Dommy. The baby on her knee is my grandmother, Thelma May (Ford) Tobin, who is still alive. This photo must have been taken the year she was born, 1912. The location is the Windsor docks on the Detroit River. Somewhere my parents have movie film taken in the same location, possibly the same day, but it is damaged beyond repair. Dommy lived to be 103 and died in 1996



This was my mother's family, but my father was the photographer when I was growing up. The images from their early marriage are Polaroids, but by the time I was born in 1964, he had a better camera. This was taken the day I came home from the hospital.



Dad began taking pictures of landscapes and closeups of nature. My brother, Mike, and I both acquired an interest in art and photography from him. I received my first instamatic camera when I was eight. My parents took me to Williamsburg, Virginia one spring. Holding the camera by the cord, I constantly swung it in circles. In every photograph Dad took of Mom and me, you can see that camera flying at some silly upward angle from my hand. Those were the days when things didn't break easily and I had the camera for a few years.

In my teens I began using Dad's camera to take pictures of wildflowers. In 1980 when we camped in the Rockies with Mike and his wife, I spent hours photographing wildflowers. I still have all these on slides. As a grade 12 graduation gift, my parents gave me a Canon AE-1. Later they gave me a 70-210mm zoom lens. For the next few years I was an avid photographer. Here is one of my favourite photos I took of Mom, circa 1987, at home on the Lake Erie beach.



The same camera became a tool of the trade when I studied journalism and became a reporter for The Hanover Post. I learned how to develop and print film, and dreamed of having my own dark room.

Dad lost interest in photography for a while and Mom became frustrated with the lack of a family record. Eventually she got an instamatic camera and started taking snapshots herself. Nowadays they both use the same camera and photography has become part of the characteristic natter of a couple married 53 years: "Make sure you gets pictures of this, Don."

After becoming unemployed I could hardly afford to buy and develop film, so I gradually stopped taking pictures. Mom and Dad gave me the Kodak DX3500 for Christmas two years ago. I was frustrated by the lack of control over focus and light exposure. At first I didn't use it much except to record events.

That changed after I joined LJ and saw other people posting the kinds of photographs I used to like taking.

German Royal blood?

That photo of my great grandmother reminds me of an interesting bit of family folklore. Her parents were both German immigrants, and this story is about her father, Freddie Fredericks.

My grandmother says Freddie's mother was a servant to the German royal family. Freddie, born in 1860, was a bastard son to Crown Prince Friedrich. His mother emigrated alone with Freddie to Detroit in the 1870s. Dommy was tight-lipped about her family history, so I don't know how my grandmother pieced this story together.

Historically, Kaiser Friedrich reigned for 98 days in 1888 before dying of throat cancer. His son, Kaiser Wilhelm, was the last German monarch. He abdicated in 1918 and died in Holland in 1941.

Here is a photograph of Freddie Fredericks with his wife, Anna (Kruger). Beside it is a photo of Kaiser Wilhelm, who would have been his half brother, and was one year older.

I'm interested to hear what other people see in these photographs.






The story would make Kaiser Friedrich my great great great grandfather. What do you think?

[Poll #231363]