The Train Ride

 The Train Ride

We had a ticket to ride!

If you read my post a couple of weeks ago called “Yay for May!” you already know my oldest grandson graduated from the University of Cincinnati in the field of cyber-technology. You may recall from that post I said Joshua has other interests, too. If you missed that post, I’ll put a link to it at the bottom of this one.

The station had it's own Thomas the Tank

Ever since he was a young child, Joshua has had a fascination

with trains. He was a huge fan of Thomas the Tank Engine. He loved the train under the Christmas tree. He collected all sorts of track and trains through the years. 

Of course the big draw for us to travel to Ohio was to celebrate Joshua’s college graduation, a week or so before accepting that diploma, Josh graduated from “train school.” Seriously. He graduated as a Junior Brakeman. The first step in the train school in Connersville, Indiana. 

So, while we were in the area, Joshua took us to Connersville to catch a train to the historic town of Metamora. Metamora was established in 1838 and once best reached by the Whitewater Canal. Or on horseback. 

The Whitewater Canal 
(View from the train.)

Now Metamora attracts tourists seeking a touch of history or scouring the shops for antiques, unique gifts, or homemade fudge. Though it can be reached by automobile, most folks enjoy the scenic train ride to the unique community with the population of a little over two-hundred folks.

Yes, the post is short, but the pictures tell the real story. Enjoy!

And click HERE for the post, “Yay for May!”

First Class was "heated" in winter.

JT and his great grandmother. British map

JT talking with the conductor

Mike and I had a great time roaming the town.

True Confession: 

 “I am a paperphile.”

There. I said it. I love paper. I’m addicted. They say the first step to recovery is confession. 

So here it is: I am a paperphile. I don’t think I’ve ever met a blank piece of paper or a notebook or even a paper placemat at a restaurant that didn’t draw me in to retrieve a pen or pencil and start writing. Or drawing.

My mom would send me to my room to clean it only to find me sitting in the middle of the floor an hour later, surrounded by paper, books, or half used notebooks, reading or writing. My paternal grandmother understood. She sent notebooks and calendars my way. 

Even as I am typing this, I am surrounded by five notepads and two pads of post-it notes and four pens.  That is in addition to the legal pad on the other side of the computer where I’m working! This is not a set-up. This is my life!

Poor Mike. I have a desk in our house that I regularly clean out. Actually I mostly stack the paper in neat piles and try to keep the clutter at a minimum. Fortunately, the desk closes up, so if someone should come to the door, I can hide my stash quickly. 

It would be okay if I were organized. You know…one notebook for one purpose kind of thing. But no. I can open a notebook and find the beginning of a story idea, a recipe, a grocery list, a quote I like, names I’ve collected, ideas for future blog posts, and the opening lines to a new book…or two. 

While visiting the Ohio house, I opened the door to my office. What is the first thing you expect to see in an office? A desk, right? 

I have a great desk. I really do. The problem is, you can’t see it. It is stacked with…you guessed it…paper. And notebooks, files, books on writing. Pens, highlighters, and a printer full of paper. The office is better organized. At least, it is useable space. 

I am determined to get better. Someday. It’s hard. I’m thinking I could start a group for people like me.

I’ll call it Paper-holics Anonymous. Wow! What a great idea!

A time to meet. A group logo. Invitations. 

Now to make a list…Yep, I need a sheet of paper…