Trainspotting

No, this post is NOT about heroin addiction (for those of you who didn't see the 1996 film of the same name - very dark, very dark, indeed). The term trainspotting comes from the obsessive addiction/habit/pastime of some people to watch trains, to the extent that they learn their numbers and schedules and all that. This is nothing quite so extreme.

It's just that I had to take Albert to the vet early this morning. After, I headed downtown to settle a parking ticket (notice, I said settle, not pay... grrrr...still had to pay, but at least it was reduced). Since I was nearby, I decided to stop by Union Station where there is a collection of old trains. It was a beautiful day and I thought it would be fun to photograph something other than luscious green scenery (no, I'm not tired of it, but decided a change of subject might be refreshing). Thinking I'd be all alone, I was surprised to find 30 high school photography teachers who had gathered for a seminar swarming the place. I was anything but alone.

I quickly found myself immersed in the place...LOTS of old scrappy stuff to photograph.

Oh, yes, and Albert? Well, when we were driving to the vet this morning, I'm sure he thought we were  going to get an ice cream cone because he was all happy....not THIS kind of cone. (Not to worry... he's fine. He's just our chewer, so he gets to wear the cone of shame for a few days. It'll be over before we know it!)

 That's Jake in the background, trying to be supportive, but not really knowing what to do about his friend with the funny hat.