toy train memories . . .

When Jamie was a baby, Christmas was exquisitely simple. Santa's elves actually carved and sanded building blocks and crocheted colorful bags, by hand, to hold them. Even the ornaments on the tree (yes, including popcorn and cranberry strings) were handmade. Does anyone remember the recipe for the ornament dough???

The train table and trains, projects eternally in progress/process, came later. But, Jamie's first Christmas, I discovered a song in my books of Christmas carols for the piano that was to be forever linked to those precious Christmas memories of his babyhood. I could even play the song on the piano then--and for most of his childhood years . . . Not now . . .


I found our song today. Twenty years after my baby boy and I discovered "Old Toy Trains," Roger Miller gave that song to the world.

Where was I that Christmas of 1995 that I missed this . . . ? I remember attending a middle school Christmas concert (my last year as a teacher) and, in spite of my first and only abcessed (knock on wood!) tooth, discovering both solace and delight in the music. I remember that at midnight that New Year's Eve I was home alone, assembling one of those eternal jigsaw puzzles (on the table I de-puzzled and lemon-oiled yesterday ), and consoling (via landline) my broken-hearted middle child, also home alone on New Year's Eve . . . But Christmas I don't remember at all . . . 1993 had gifted me with Patty Larkin's "Good Thing" from Angels Running and James Galway's rendition of "Gabriel's Oboe" (on tape--no CD or mp3 for this one but the YoYo Ma version is even more awesome!). 1994 had eased an achingly lonely Christmas with David Lanz's Christmas Eve. 1995?

I purchased two copies of the mp3 today (the Roger Miller version--many have followed since)--one for my Zen V Plus and one for Jamie's iPod. Making new memories with an old song. Michael is into toy trains too :-) . . . or at least he was last spring . . .



I also purchased the acoustic guitar mp3 version (from Christmas Innocence by Peter Groenhof). There's my Seagull in the entryway to dream with and two grandbabies, Mason and Campbell, taking guitar lessons . . .