Keuffel and Esser - NYC

In yesterday's post I teased you with a tidbit of information linking this NYC building with Montreal's Expo '67. So here's the connection...

The Keuffel and Esser building pictured here was the showroom and headquarters for the company of the same name, founded in 1867, and manufactured drafting instruments and supplies. They also carried drawing materials and surveying instruments.  It was in 1893 that this building was completed at 127 Fulton Street, an 8-story building in the Renaissance Revival style. The company occupied it until 1961.

In the 1920's they began to make slide rules, something every engineering student and engineer used and owned, until the 1970's when calculators made them obsolete. Now pay attention, because here comes the Montreal connection... in the 1960's Keuffel and Esser opened an office in Montreal and became one of the main suppliers to the big engineering firms in the province. So, guess whose engineering instruments were used to for the construction activities, to build the highways and prepare for Expo '67?

Financier Patisserie - NYC

We found this lovely cafe by accident as we wandered the streets in the financial district. It was a wonderful place to stop and rest our legs and the coffee was great. We had a delicious pastry too and while looking around, we noticed they also had a fine selection of  lunch items. We decided that we would buy salads to take down to Battery Park to eat picnic style.

While we were sipping our coffees and enjoying our pastries, and very New York scene unfolded.  The cafe is situated on a corner with windows looking out on both sides, and suddenly we heard the wail of sirens as fire trucks pulled up in all directions. Since neither the staff , nor the customers seemed the least bit ruffled, we took our cue from them and sat and watched from our window seats.

Perhaps there was something happening in the subway, whose entrance steps were located across the street. About ten minutes later the fire trucks departed. All was well thankfully.

But while we finished our coffees, I was drawn to the building at the right through the window.  It said Keuffel and Esser Co. and also the number 127, referring to its address on Fulton Street.  Little did I know then that this building has a connection to Montreal and Expo '67. Intrigued?  then read tomorrow's post to learn more!

Victorian Party #10

Several portraits in the room hold secrets. When you look at them from various angles, ghoulish figures are revealed, giving the passerby a fright. 

 The portrait's alter ego...

A distinguished looking gentleman morphs into a skeletal figure.

These beautiful cream-coloured leather gloves form part of this vignette.

Another seemingly innocent portrait...

... that hides a more sinister side.

A skull oversees a bowl of old rusty nails that were found on the banks of the Ottawa River. 

My Lucky Day, or, The Trip that Almost Wasn't

It was a day that could have ended very badly. We were on our way to England for a three-week trip. Everything was packed, we had checked and re-checked our lists to make sure that nothing was missing. SInce our friends and neighbours were either at work or away and therefore not available to give us a lift, we decided it would be easy enough to take the bus to the airport.

Here is a replay of what happened next...

We consult the schedules and leave for the bus stop in plenty of time. One suitcase on rollers each... check. Knapsack each... check. So far so good.

It is a hot sunny day waiting at the bus stop. So hot that I take off my sweater, roll it up and put it in my knapsack. We wait with a sense of impatience to get on our way. Finally, the bus arrives and we board, hauling our large suitcases. As the bus drives off and enters the on-ramp to the highway I look down. Where is my knapsack?  No matter how much I look around me, it is no where to be seen. My knapsack is gone!  Panic stations!  My passport, my Canadian and British money and my credit cards... all have vanished in an instant.

We quickly come to the realisation that I have left it at the bus stop. And we are now careening down the Queensway at high speed, travelling further and further from my knapsack. We ring the bell and wait in agony for the bus to reach the next stop and open its doors, whereupon we shoot out double-time with large suitcases in tow.

My beloved hubby, who has not even yelled at me or expressed impatience gives me his suitcase and knapsack and begins to run back along the residential route to the bus stop (about a 15 minute walk at a brisk clip) where it is deeply hoped the knapsack will still be. I clambour up the hill with husband's knapsack on my back and half rolling half dragging both suitcases, with a stomach that continues to turn over, I ask myself how I could possibly have been so careless.

As luck would have it the bus is due in three minutes to take me back to our starting point, and by chance a colleague from work is on her way home and stops to offer me a lift. But the bus comes along just then, and I get on, the ride seemingly endless. As the bus finally arrives at my stop I can see through the window that husband is walking back from the stop with no knapsack.

It is with sinking heart that I realise the trip is over before it has begun. I go through what needs to be done in my mind. I have to report my passport lost, cancel my credit cards and the hotel reservations, call my aunt and uncle and let them know we are not coming. I have ruined everything for everyone.  I am just sick about it.

Hubby, still not yelling at me, decides to go into the nearby convenience store to inquire if anyone has turned in a knapsack and I continue home. As I am putting the key into the lock I can hear the phone ringing. Desperate to get to it before they hang up or the answering machine picks up, I fling myself inside and grab the phone from its base.

"Hello"

"Did someone at your house lose...:

"Did you find my knapsack?" (interrupting frantically)

"I didn't, but my girlfriend did."

"Where is your girlfriend?"

"She's on the bus."

"Where is she going?"

"To my place." (I am possibly on the edge of hysteria by now, because all I want to know is where is my knapsack and will I be able to be reunited with it in time to catch my flight.)

"Where are you?"

"Sandy Hill."

By this time hubby has joined me in the kitchen and I mouth to him that my knapsack has been found. I tell the angel on the end of the line that I will call a cab and go to his place. I grab a slip of paper and ask for his address, ascertaining that it will take the girlfriend about 15 minutes to arrive at his home. I am in such a state that I cannot for the life of me write the street name down. I keep asking the angel to spell the name but I cannot hear what he is saying and my hand will not cooperate.

After five attempts I manage to write it down, and because I haven't quite lost all my wits I ask for his phone numbetr in case we can't find the house when we get there.  I thank him for the hundreth time and try to call a cab. The thought of booting up my slow computer and waiting in agony to do a search for a taxi company's phone number leaves me dangling in despair for several seconds, until I remember that we have an old yellow pages from about four years ago in a cabinet. I quickly retrieve it and within seconds have the number to the local taxi company. Oh how I love papaer format! Blessings on you dear printed listings!

I call the cab and beg them to hurry when they say they will be there in 10 minutes.  But where is hubby? I call and there is no answer. I stick my head out the front door. He is at the end of the driveway with the cab.  I lock the door, and with my scribbled address clutched for dear life in my hand, we throw our suitcases in the trunk and jump in.

The taxi driver has been filled in about our situation. He thinks it is a great story and is ready to battle rush-hour traffic on the Queensway to get us to Sandy Hill in record time. I have a moment of lucidity and realise this cannot be the cab I have ordered, though it is the same company. Apparently hubby had run to the end of our street where this very taxi magically appeared and, even more magically, the cab driver heard his whistle over four lanes of traffic. I ask the driver to cancel the cab that is making its way to my house. This done, my guilt is relieved a smidgen and I can relax enough to start worrying about the traffic.

But luck is with us and the taxi driver comments on how light the traffic is today. Within minutes we are exiting for Sandy Hill. After several more minutes, we find the right address and I jump out. I look up and my angel is looking down from an upper balcony for me, just as he had  promised. Our cab waits patiently at the side of the road. Several seconds later he has joind me on the street. The girlfriend has not arrived but I am assured that she will be there in mere moments.

Moments creep by while I tell him how wonderful they are. Finally, a blond head turns the corner and there she is. The second angel is wearing my knapsack and carrying her own. The knapsack is handed over to me. I continue to tell them how wonderful they are, give them hugs, and hand all the Canadian money I have in my wallet to the angel who has just made my trip a possibility. She refuses the money. They seem to have no idea of what they have done for us.

"Go out for dinner, treat yourself, do whatever you like, but please please take it. I won't be happy unless you do! You have no idea. You have saved our trip!" And I press the bills into her hand. Then with yet more thanks shouted over my shoulder I race to the cab and climb in. And we are off once again.

The taxi driver, now in full "Amazing Race" mode, is already plotting which route will be the quickest to the airport. He is in his glory. He too is an angel. I am dry mouthed and limp in the back seat. Hubby is still not yelling at me. He is an angel too!

I do not take my eyes off the clock on the dashboard. After what seems like forever, we arrive at the airport. We pay the driver the $60 fare plus a very large tip and we race to the check-in counter. Wonder of wonders, we are on time. Hubby however, thinks we are an hour late and is apologizing to the airline representative. When I tell him "no, it is only 6:00." He shakes his head in disbelief, he cannot believe how little time has elapsed.

We have three hours in the airport lounge once we are through security to relax and recover. Once on the plane, I look out the window and think "I cannot believe that I am here on this plane, on my way to England! How is it possible?"

What could have been a very terrible day was turned completely around by a series of earth-bound angels, and in record time.

Transformation

The sound of my childhood summers was the distinct humming of cicadas.  On the hottest of summer days, this sound was heard high in the trees that lined my street. How lucky to be able to catch this magical transformation as it took place this summer. Though I have heard cicadas, I hadn't seen one before, let alone been witness to this amazing part of its life cycle.

After having spent as much as 17 years underground, sucking sap from tree roots, cicadas emerge to shed their larvae casings. They climb a tree and latch on, in this case to a hanging wicker basket. The outer shell cracks open and they slowly merge, shedding their outer layer.

Having emerged a little further, the wings are still all folded up and can be seen as the two green protrusions at each side of the body. The cicada is hanging upside down with only a small portion left to be pulled from the casing.

A side view of the cicada, now fully emerged and wings beginning to unfurl. The green, by the way, was the bright shade it is in these photos.

The wings are now completely formed and have rotated to angle down. Total time elapsed, perhaps 20 minutes to half an hour. Eventually the cicada would have moved to the branches above to sing for a partner, but we left at this point, having invaded the poor creature's privacy long enough. The males attract a female by making the characteristic humming sound, while the females answer with a clicking sound, made by flipping their tails.

I'm including this photo of the cicada hanging from the wicker basket to give you a sense of the scale of this newly formed creature.

BBC Worldwide produced a time-lapse segment on the life cycle of the cicada with Sir David Attenborough that's available on YouTube.

Kaleidoscope Centres

A Mighty Oak

Driving by the Arboretum today, I noticed for the very first time, this immense tree. How I have missed it all these times I don't know for it is placed quite close to the road. I was so taken with it that I stopped the car to have a closer look.


The tag on the tree identifies it as Quercus bebbianna. As you can see, the limbs spread so far horizontally, this one has to be supported.


The photos cannot truly give the sense of this oak's magnitude, not even with the bench included for scale. When you see it in person, the branches just seem to extend forever. A mighty oak indeed.

Friends that Rock

There are some who might wonder about a gift like this. But anyone who knows me understands how chuffed I was when M. brought me this present. Rocks for my garden are always welcome and I love that friend M. wrapped them in bright pink tissue and green-coloured jute. It's fun and whimsical, and totally charming. My friends rock!

Tree Art

I was whizzing along the bicycle path on my way to work when I spotted what looked like artwork. As I cycled home that afternoon, I stopped to investigate and took these photos.

Sure enough, a landscape (signed and dated: J.L. 11/07/11) had been painted on the surface of a tree where a large limb had been cut. We have lost a lot of trees lately to high winds and I guess the artist saw an opportunity to display their art. Located at a fork in the path, there is a lot of "foot and pedal" traffic so the spot is good for reaching a lot of viewers.

What I didn't realise at first, but have since confimed, was that the artist had painted the scene they saw from that vantage point, looking out over the water as the sun was setting on the Ottawa River one evening.

A Lovely Delight

Imagine coming home from work only to find a beautiful bouquet of fresh flowers like this one at your door? Well, that is exactly what happened to me today. Dear L. next door, who is graduating from a floral design program, surprised me with this gorgeous "pompadour" style bouquet. Isn't it a vision? It's lovely delights such as this one, that come upon us unexpectedly, that make life so special.

Covered with Lace

Yeterday it rained, it rained so much that I actually had to use an umbrella to walk outside. It felt wonderful to need an umbrella again... a sign of spring. When I went to bed it was still raining... so imagine my surprise this morning when I looked out to see all that newly fallen snow.

Oh dear, one step forward... two steps back. So now I am trying to see the beauty in this new snow, to look for the silver lining. For starters, the way the snow fell makes it look like my blue fence has a lace covering. And that's rather pretty.

Give the Gift of Kindness

There's no better way to feel good than to pay a small kindness to someone. Whether it's helping someone carry heavy parcels, or paying the toll fee for the car behind you, acts of kindness bring pleasure to both the giver and receiver. Often it's the small gestures, given to complete strangers that surprise the most. Large or small, to strangers or loved ones, why not give it a try today? You'll be surprised how it elevates your mood.

Stay in Touch

When it's cold and gloomy oustside, we tend to spend more and more time indoors. To ease the isolation, stay in touch by writing a "real" letter to someone you care about. The recipient will be pleased and surprised to receive this thoughtful gift. If you know someone who is housebound, a letter can bring a much needed connection. Imagine their delight in knowing that you were thinking of them. It will make both of you feel good. So think about who you know who might really be touched by your efforts. Perhaps it's not someone who is housebound but who is feeling low or going through a rough patch. After all it is February!

The act of writing a letter can be a creative act in many ways and a means of expression, so gather together all your stationery. Choose what feels right for your mood or the recipient. If you have coloured pens and stickers, get them out too. Want to go the extra mile? Then seal the envelope with sealing wax and use pretty postage stamps to provide the finishing touch.

This thoughtful gesture is all the more meaningful in this age of e-mailing, when letters on paper are such a rare and uncommon pleasure.

A Different Perspective

I first noticed this painting in the window of the local thrift shop on one of my lunch hour jaunts. I was immediately drawn to it, feeling as though I was there underneath the snow-laden boughs, peeking out at the landscape that lay beyond. The snowy canopy reminded me of one from a particular afternoon walk along a trail when I had emerged from under a group of pine trees laden with clumps of snow, blue-shadowed in just the same way. I was so taken with the scene that I felt compelled to go into the shop (which doesn't take much prodding, truth be told, when it's a thrift shop) and fished it out of the window, to check the artist. As I suspected, it was Lawren Harris, one of Canada's Group of Seven. It is a partial view of his 1915 "Snow II".

What I didn't expect though, was the discovery that the painting had been placed upside down in the display. And right-side up, the scene was not nearly as interesting to me, just a group of snowy trees. What I took to be the trunks of the two trees at the centre are actually the tips. What I thought was snowy ground was actually the sky. Disappointed, I replaced the painting, careful to put it back in the window right-side up.

A few days later I was passing by the window and noticed that someone had shifted the whole display. The painting had been moved over a little and again was upside down. How peculiar. What is it about this painting that makes people see it so differently than they way it was painted?

Taking this as an omen, I decided to buy it (not really a major purchase at $1.99). The painting is a reminder to keep an open mind, to try and see things in different ways. Maybe we should all turn the artwork in our homes upside down now and then, just to see things from a different perspective.

Desktop Display

Sitting at my desk today I was struck by this vignette. The happy juxtaposition of mandarin oranges, juice and glasses, positioned in front of the two cards, made for an orange-themed display, created by chance.

Is this Winter?

Does this look like winter in January in the Great White North? This was the view out our living room window today. All the snow has melted except for the odd tiny snow island in a sea of green lawn. Framed by these perky salmon-coloured geraniums, the view looks like a spring day in April. One could be forgiven for expecting the tips of tulips to be poking through the soil. Does this mean an early spring? More likely it's just a little blip and winter will be back with a venenge, but it's nice to dream...

A Christmas Gift

Most Christmases I seem to end up decorating the Christmas tree by myself, but this year my sons decided that they would tackle the job together. We have lots of decorations to choose from and they decided on a blue and silver theme, selecting many of my vintage ornaments. My disco ball ornament isn't vintage but the memories it conjures certainly are! They also spent a great deal of time patiently stringing popcorn to drape as garlands. Best of all, they did this while I was out so that I came home to the wonderful surprise. This was definitely one of the more meaningful gifts I received this Christmas.