Category Archives: Things

Our World Famous Folding Organ

Things
World Famous Folding Organ
World Famous Folding Organ

I wish I knew the whole story about why we have an antique folding organ in our family room, but I don’t. What I know is this, someone in the family, most likely my father’s youngest sister, Corrine, used to play this organ on Sundays in church. She had it at her house for years, then gave it to my dad. It took up room in their house so my mom asked me if I wanted it. Of course I did. I don’t know anyone else with a World Famous Folding Organ in their family room, do you?

As you can see from the photos, the organ looks more like the keyboard of a piano in a plywood box than an organ. That’s the point, I guess. This organ can fold up into approximately a 3′ x 2′ x 1′ box with a handle.

World Famous Folding Organ -- Folded
World Famous Folding Organ — Folded
The world famous pedals
The world famous pedals

To play the organ you need to move your feet up and down on pedals. If you’re like me and cannot walk and chew gum at the same time, this presents a problem.

I think you also need to do something with the two metal doodads that fold out and go on either side of your knees. Maybe they are like the “stops” on regular reed organs — maybe the pitch goes up and down. Can you tell I know nothing about organs or music, for that matter?

I accepted the organ on the pretext that Clare wanted to learn how to play it. My dad used to ask me if Clare was learning how to play the organ every time we spoke. I don’t think he really cared that we took the organ, but he seemed really curious about it. She never did learn, but once a couple of her friends who could play pianos used it and it sounded really good! I however, did not sound so good when I tried it out. Here I am playing the only song I know how to play, Mary Had a Little Lamb, just to show you how the organ works.

You can listen to other people play folding organs on YouTube if you so desire.

There’s a little information online about the Bilhorn Brothers and their World Famous Folding Organs. I liked this advertisement for it. The poem is a little creepy, on a couple of levels.

What Patrons say of our ….. Telescope Organ

World Famous Folding Organ
World Famous Folding Organ
They call our organ "Baby"
But say it's not too small
For gentleman or lady
The sinners lost to call.

They also call it "Beauty"
Because it folds so nice.
It's ready quick for duty
You need not fold it twice.

Then others say, "It's handy,"
The handiest in the land,
And sometimes call it "Dandy,"
Since carried by one hand.

One said, "It's tough as leather,
And surely it's the best:
When tried in outdoor weather
It always stands the test."

The tone is also sweeter
Than others of its kind;
Besides the organ's neater
Than any you can find.

One writes, "It's worth your knowing,
The organ's very fine,
No matter where you're going
You'll take it every time.

Evangelists and teachers,
Believe us, it is true,
Including local preachers,
It's just the thing for you.

To those who would one purchase
We say, don't count the cost,
They're four times worth their value,
There's nothing to be lost.

Then send your order and today
We'll ship it C. O. D.
The organ you will find O. K.
And be well pleased, you see.

--Johnny

 

A promise of lilacs

Musings, Things

What is it about the smell of lilacs that can make me wish I was nothing but one huge nose? Is it simply the perfume they emit or is it memories of my childhood? Whatever it is, I wish I could experience it for more than a span of a few days once a year.

I grew up next to Mrs Wewell. She was a kind old woman who had, among other things, a backyard full of lilac bushes. I’m sure there were at least 10, possibly 15 lilac bushes lining her property. For most of the year the bushes were either a dark green barrier or a dense thicket of brown branches separating her yard from the mean old lady who lived behind her. One spectacular week a year, however they were heaven for humans and bees. For one week Mrs Wewell’s backyard was full of white, pink or purple blossoms that smelled wonderful. I’d walk over to her yard and stick my nose into a cluster of flowers and inhale. Then I’d do it again with another cluster. And another. She always let us cut as many bouquets as we wanted, and we usually took enough to fill a vase or two for our living room, bringing the aroma of springtime into our house.

Mrs Wewell eventually moved into her son’s home and sold the house next to us. For years the families that lived there enjoyed the week of lilacs when their yard supplied a lovely scent to the entire neighborhood.

Then John moved in and decided one spring to cut down all the lilac bushes. Not only did he cut them down, he cut them down the week they were in full bloom. I was horrified. I no longer lived with my parents, but visited often (and truth be told was dating John at the time) and couldn’t believe someone would be so cruel as to cut down bushes that brought so much joy to people. As he took a chain saw to the bushes, I ran behind clipping branch after branch laden with lilac blossoms and stuffed them into my car to put in water when I got back to my apartment. It took me several trips to bring the flowers to my apartment and a long time to find enough vases, pans, bottles, and drinking glasses to hold the flowers and put them in all the rooms of my apartment. It smelled lovely for days, and the apartment looked a little like Mrs Wewell’s back yard.

After that spring, I don’t recall the next time I smelled lilacs. Our next door neighbor in Alexandria had a lilac bush, but her soon-to-be ex-husband cut it down, mumbling something about eyesores and powdery mildew. Before he did, though, I’d go to her yard and smell the lilac flowers as often as I could. When I worked at a public school in Alexandria, one of the teacher assistants would bring lilacs in from her yard and put them in a vase in the main office. I’d walk by the office a lot the week they were there, taking huge lungs full of lilac scented air.

lilacs
lilacs

When we moved to the house where we now live I was delighted to see that there was a lilac bush on our property. It is probably technically our neighbors’ — it is right on the property line — but we take care of it. Our lilac bush is ready to bloom, and I’m ready for it. I look forward to the sweet, yet refreshing smell of lilacs.  If there is a Heaven I’m sure it smells like lilacs.

Hoarding

Things, ,
Cables
cables

Yes, I admit it. I am a hoarder. I already admitted to being a pack rat, but didn’t mention the hoarding. After watching the two Edies in Grey Gardens, I figured I’d better come clean — and maybe clean up my closet as well.

What kinds of things do I hoard, you ask?

Mostly electronic related things. For instance here is a list of what I found in my [home] office closet:

  • 12 extra USB cords and one USB cord extender. (granted the cords are not all the same on the small end, but do I really need to keep these things?)
  • 3 extra firewire cords — I guess I might use them some day.
  • 10 extra RCA connectors
  • 3 extra Ethernet cords
  • A couple of cigarette lighter chargers & hands free earphone/microphones for phones we no longer own
  • Several AC cords that I don’t know what they are supposed to be connected to (or if we even still own the item it is meant for)
  • 2 extra FM antennas for stereos and at least 1 AM antenna
  • 2 cordless keyboards
  • 1 corded keyboard
  • A few extra mice, both corded and cordless
  • A CueCat (which i actually use for LibrayThing so I really cannot consider it part of my horde but I coveted it when a friend got one free from Wired Magazine so that’s sort of like hoarding)
  • Hundreds of CDs and DVDs with data or media from various computers I’ve owned over the years (at least I finally tossed the floppy disks I was hording a couple of years ago)
  • A few pairs of earphones, some of which are missing the soft part for the ears

I also tend to hoard recipes. I’ve got a bagful of recipes I cut out of the newspaper or magazines years ago and never tried. I buy cookbooks that I never open. My mom gave me a cookbook that belonged to my dad’s mother (which I don’t consider part of my hoard, but I’ve not used it yet). My aunt gave me a box of recipes that she got from her mother — some of which I may use, others don’t look so appetizing.

I used to hoard paper clips. I know why too —  I once or twice needed a paper clip and could not find one in the house (many years ago), so once I bought some I kept on buying them and if I found one on the floor at school would put it in my pocket to add to the paper clip container. I’ve since gotten over that, especially since I don’t handle hard copies much anymore.

Today I dragged all the extra things out of the closet and hope to figure out what should be kept and what can go. I’ll probably just stuff it all back in the closet though.

But at least I got a blog post out of it.