#MemoryLane Monday- Memories Lost Along the Way

Well, there you have it. For this week, while I'm visiting my family I was going to share a picture I took of the tree in the backyard where I grew up- the one that has my initials carved into it and talk about touching base with my roots. Seems I won't be doing that. Well, not sharing that photo, that is, unless I remember to snap a photo after I get up there and load it up and add it to the post, but not sure I'll get around to it before it posts on Monday)

After viewing a disk the other day that had that VERY image on it, I can't get it to open at all, not on my laptop and not on my desktop computer either. It's showing that there is space that's been "used" on it and says I have more space I can use, but the files? Those Kodak folders? It's like they've vanished...

All I can figure is that I accidentally reformatted the disk before I ejected it from my laptop or something. It won't read it, can't find the files and my heart is broken. There were photos from April 2011 through January of this year. I had copied them to disk so I could free up some space on my laptop. Dummy me- I didn't make an additional copy. What was I thinking?

I only remember a few of the pictures that were taken, so hopefully it won't worm through my mind that I flubbed up so badly. I still can't figure out how I did that except that it's a rewritable disk. I just don't remember "rewriting" it, cause normally a person remembers doing those sort of things.

Instead, I'll post some pictures I have from coming into town and the view of the park from the gazebo (which is no longer in the park- they replaced it with a different one or something). Was still a VERY pretty view.

My friends and I spent a lot of time in that park. Usually we walked through or rode our bikes through to go to the West Park Shopping Center to go to Wal-Mart to buy cassette tapes or cassette singles, or clothes, makeup, earrings- you name it. Or we'd go by IGA or Rite-Aid for candy or soda pop from the outdoor vending machines. Hot summer days were always a good excuse to take some change to go out there and we'd foolishly buy our drinks and sit on the bench near the payphone, watching the bag boys pushing customers' groceries out or watch for anyone we might know to go cruisin' through the parking lot. Sometimes we'd walk over to McDonald's and buy lunch and take it back to the park to eat at the covered pavilion and just hang out talking and reading the vandalism on the wooden picnic tables.

I truly miss those days. It was hot and you had to contend with wasps and flies around the tables where people had spilled their soda or thrown food in the big barrel garbage cans. You'd be hot and sticky with sweat, but a quick spin on your bike around the path would help take the edge off. Later we'd all collapse on a blanket in my front yard, with the old Magnavox with the broken antenna plugged up to an orange electric cord that was plugged in on the porch so we could jam out to our cassettes listening to New Kids on the Block and Debbie Gibson or Lisa Lisa & Cult Jam. Yeah, I'm an 80's dork.

But back in that park, as well as in our yards, there was solitude though, when it seemed like being a grown up was a million years away even though we wanted it so bad we could taste it. And the smell of fresh cut grass and the fumes from gas mowers scented the air. The splashing and screaming of kids at the local pool or the teenage boys pounding the pavement at the basketball courts was the only important sounds you heard, save perhaps the ice cream truck's tinkling little ditty.

Of course, as a teenager girl, nothing sounded as good as the thumping bass coming from some car three streets over, and you'd wait with bated breath for them to round the corner onto your street and then you'd get to see if it was some cute guy in his little truck. You know the one with the tinted windows and fluorescent doohickeys on the windshield wipers or the ground lights and custom details- cruisin' slow through the neighborhoods. Sometimes if you were lucky, they'd give you a slight acknowledgement of a wave or the nod of their head, looking cool in their sunglasses with the windows down, an arm hanging out the driver's side with one hand on the steering wheel and some song blaring from the speakers, and you'd fall into a heap of giggling as soon as they were up the road and out of sight.

Those were the days.

Of course, I don't have pictures from all those times, and I guess I don't need them, because images capture a lot of great cheesy poses, but your brain and your heart capture the emotions and sights and sounds in a way photography can't.

Hope everyone had a great Easter and I hope you have a great start to your week!
Happy Monday!