"After all is said and done, more is said than done." ~ Aesop
{It's hard to decide which I like more in this fantastic vintage image, the smiling rider's wonderful equestrian outfit (how can you not adore yesteryear jodhpurs?) or the completely cute horse with its nearly diamond shaped forehead marking. Both are so charming and make one long to saddle up themselves right this very minute (especially if we can borrow this woman’s fashionable riding ensemble!).}
{There is, undeniably, a massive dose of adorable at work in this heartwarming 1930s image of three well dressed youngsters, one of whom appears to have aspirations of joining the navy some day. Yet, if you peak into the background it's hard not to be subtly reminded of some of the hardships, if only indirectly, of the Depression era.
There’s the train cars, possibly hopped at night by migrant workers, vagabonds, and men down to their last broken dream alike. The dusty streets, redolent of in their own way of the drought that gripped the nation, and the lone man walking with his head down, perhaps lost in thought and far more worry than any one pair of shoulders should have to bear, as so many were during those grippingly bleak years.}
{This image is beauty and happiness; it’s evocative so many familiar sisters and friends, cousins and mothers. It is a lovely woman named Phyllis, captured forever on Kodachrome film in 1945, sporting a femininely blouse and jaunty green sweater. Who, one cannot help but wonder, was this kind looking woman from Illinois, and where, inquiring vintage fashionistas want to know, can we track down her delightful ruffled blouse today.}
{Snapped in Flarbrookeville, New Jersey - on what appears by the couple's short sleeves to have been a warm day - back in 1947, this image of Herb and Miriam Abramson shows a young husband and wife with looks of quiet, intense thought in their eyes. There's beauty in the way Herb is holding Miriam's shoulder, and elegance in the entire shot, which has a slightly posed, but not wholly staged quality to it that is so very endearing.}
{On a very blustery day in the late 1940s a woman stopped to have her picture taken along side a hill that slopped down towards the water's edge. Did you realize then how lovely she looked, how absolutely perfect her high-waisted skirt and peep-toe, ankle strap shoes were? Or was she simply hoping to hear the shutter click so that she could quickly run to get out of the howling wind?}
{It's so hard to look at this photograph from the 1950s and not instantly sympathize with the little girl having her hair put up in curlers. Who amongst us ladies can't remember our own childhood experiences and the way we'd pleadingly say, "please, mom, not so hard!", as our locks were tugged, brushed, or curled into stylish submission.}
{Sophistication and an intense sense of elegance radiate in lieu of much in the way of apparent felicity from this captivating mid-1940s wedding photograph of a young bride and groom identified simply as John and Trudy. Staring at this beautiful image, I cannot help but hope that the rest of their live together was filled with far more smiles than they shot the camera on the day of their marriage.}
{Looking almost as though it was trying to camouflage into its owner's dusty camel hued coat, a Siamese cat peers, none too impressed, into the lens for a moment during the 1950s in this charming slice-of-life image that cat parents everywhere can relate to.}
{Am upbeat looking group of soldiers in uniform and smiling ladies enjoy a spot of lively conversation in this engaging image that was snapped at the J.W.B. Club, in New York City during the early 1940s.}
{Thought neither of us bear any resemblance to the two gals in this fun 1930s image, the moment I spotted it I was instantly reminded of a friend of mine from my early teen years named Amber, and how the two of us loved spending hours together down at a tiny speck of beach near her house come summertime. It's always fascinating and often comforting, I find, when something about a photograph from the past mirrors a specific memory in you own life. }
{All images above are from Flickr. To learn more about a specific image, please click on it to be taken to its respective Flickr page.}
In countless situations throughout my life, I have witnessed the sentiment expressed in today's timeless axiom from ancient Greek fable writer Aesop prove to be true. It's human nature, really. Problems can be easy to throw words at, but trickier to actually go out and concretely attempt to fix. Other times plans, promises, or drams are made, yet never quite come to fruition for whatever unforeseeable reason.
There are exceptions however, I believe, to these classic words (which by the way, make for one of my all-time favourite quotes, simply because I do find it so poignantly true), and one of them is often moving. Especially long distance moving.
No matter how much you plan, budget, and prepare, unless you have a large team of people there to help distribute the work between, a big move can be a daunting, character building, intense experience. Fortunately, the one that my husband and I are in the midst of undertaking right now is going well. It's not the first such move for either of us, though I would say we're packing up the largest volume of belongings we've ever had together this time around.
Each day it seems the hours grow shorter, the checklist longer, but I certainly wouldn't trade all this elbow grease or stress. No way, "all that was said" represents the great deal of the planning, the long, heavy nights of discussion, the debates about "what ifs", the contemplation, and the sacrifices we made to reach the point where we decided to transplant ourselves from one side of Canada to the other.
In this case, the balance of what was said and what is being done feel just about equal. Such an occurrence isn't very common, but I believe that each of us, throughout history, whether it's the people in the images above, or you and I today, experience a few times in our lives when the scales of what's discussed matches the amount of action taken.
This feeling doesn't come along often, but when it does, I find it usually means that I've made the right choice, and (knock wood) I have rarely regretted a decision that end up resulting in this kind of momentary, wonderful balance.
