Her innate love of trains lingers all these years later;

This much I know: I love trains. Until I left my native Denmark they were often my main form of transportation as I commuted between the big city and the farm, between school and work and home - or on vacation to Prague, to Berlin, to southern France. Not only did I love the big ones, I was fascinated by train sets. Growing up the older sister of three younger brothers there was plenty of train- track in the house, but never a train set that was mine. I wasn't a deprived child, I had a pony, but, alas, I never had a train set.

My brothers refused to share theirs. "You can watch," they said as they set up their Maerklins, "but don't touch anything." "Hold this engine," they said, "until we're ready to run it." "No," they said, "you don't know how to do it, so we won't let you."

When I offered to build cardboard houses or construct papier- mache fields they shrugged collectively. "Girls!" they said, "no need for houses." They already had all they needed because they had, simply, essentially, the train and the track to run it on.

So I sat on the couch and watched - sometimes for hours - listening to the whirr of the little wheels and the various clicks as engines connected with carts, shifts shifted and turntables turned.

I understood that there is a special connection between boys, no matter how old they are, and their trains.

Fast forward 20 years and around Christmas I once again watched a friend demonstrate his train set which circled the Christmas tree and part of the living room.

"You should get some of those little houses," I said. "No," he answered. "That would be cool - with the little lights and all," I continued. "No," he said, there'd be no little houses. But there was this turntable he'd like to get, and a bridge he'd seen somewhere else, and once again I felt that familiar tug: if only I had my own train set I could do with it whatever I wanted to.

Heck, I have a huge basement, I could build a scale model of the state of Washington down there. But the thrill would be gone because there'd be no one to tell me that I wouldn't know how to run things.

In this edition of Home we visit with Joe Eliasson on pages 10- 11 and take in the sights and sounds of the marvelous train track he's built in his backyard. On page 9 the Tool Guy offers advice to readers who'd like to paint their side-by-side fridge. For once the experts agree, this is pretty much not a good idea. Dog owners won't want to miss Shannon Amidon's how-to story on doggie doors and their users on page 19.

One last train thought: if my train cravings get too bad, perhaps I should just dig out my son's wooden Brio train from somewhere because I'd get to play with all of the ferries, bridges and houses, too.

Welcome Home!

Pia K. Hansen, Home Editor, piah@spokesman.com, (509) 459- 5427

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