photography | The Decompression of a Boomer

Archive for the ‘photography’ Category

A Robin’s Nest – Part 2

August 9, 2014

It’s Saturday, August 2. All day we have been watching the robin’s nest in the honey locust tree in our back yard. Two baby birds have fletched – left the nest today (that’s what Part 1 of this robin blog is about). It wasn’t until the first two birds were out of the nest that the third bird – definitely the runt- stuck his little beak up.

Oh my goodness. I had seen this third tiny little beak earlier in the week, but only once – I thought maybe he had died or fallen out of the nest. Here he is (could be a she):

It’s already 2:20 in the afternoon. We have not seen the adult robins feed this little bird today. As far as we could tell, the other two birds got all the feedings, and only when they fledged and were out of the nest completely.

So what of this little guy? It would be just hunky-dory for him to stay in the nest for another day or two, get some one-on-one nurturing from mom and dad, don’t you think? Then he’ll be ready!

But where are mom and dad?

Oh, look at him now! 4:25 PM. He’s up on the edge of the nest!

Oh my. He’s so little! He doesn’t have much day left to work his way through this process. It took the second nestling three hours of exercise to work his way from the edge of the nest to finally jumping off the limb into the grass.

Couldn’t this little guy just check out the scene from the edge of the nest and then drop back into the nest and hunker in for the night? Does he really have to fledge today, like the others. Did the robins just declare, “Fledging Day – everyone out! – all of you!”

We keep checking on the bird.

No change.

At 5:02 Rudy came out with us. By accident. Here he is rolling around in the grass practically underneath the bird.

“Hey! Get back in the house!” Megan reprimands him.

5:20 now – the bird has been standing on the side of the nest now for at least an hour. Has he inched away from the nest, just a tiny bit? Does he look like he’s mustering up some courage?

The next step is to jump out onto the limb where he can exercise and practice some important skills, and maybe mom and dad will feed him!

I went back into the house and for some reason, after another 20 minutes – felt compelled to come out and check on the bird. Megan had been standing watch the whole time.

I get under the nest and … oh no! The bird decides it’s time to jump onto the limb. But he stumbles and gets caught between the two limbs that converge under the nest (caught right where that knot is – caught between a knot and a hard spot, you could say). Not pretty. Crap! He flutters his wings and … falls into the grass 8 feet below.

Geez! What happens now? He’s so tiny. Is he hurt?

I zoomed my camera to capture another photo of him sitting there stunned, where he fell.

Megan, the bird, and I were all stunned…

Suddenly the little bird perked up, and hot-tailed (more of a ‘hop-tail’) it toward our west fence, mustering every morsel of strength he had in him. I took a 3-min-45-second video of his journey – it took him that long to make it 30 feet across the grass. I clipped the video so I can post it – the video here starts when he was about half way there and had pooped out. Dad or mom had been perched on the back fence – watching – and swooped down to prod him on ….

After that 3:45 minute marathon across the grass he struggled to force his body over the landscape curbing and then flopped into this bed of lily-of-the valleys…

Whew!

Grow strong, little one!

Do you think he has even a hair’s breadth of a chance for survival?

Maybe?…

Tags:robin fledging the nest, Robin's nest
Posted in Idaho, pets, Robins | Leave a Comment »

A Robin’s Nest

August 8, 2014

Saturday morning, July 26. We’re out relaxing on the back deck with Rudy

or “Little Lord Fauntleroy” as David affectionately calls him.

We spot a robin’s nest in one of our giant honey locust trees- with a nesting robin!

The nest is about 8 feet off the ground, maybe 20 feet from where we are sitting.

The next day, Sunday, we discover 2 hatchlings.

When did they hatch? (Robins eggs incubate for 12-14 days. So that mother built the nest and has been nesting for at least two weeks! How did we miss it?)

When to expect this clutch of robins to ‘fledge’ or fly the nest? I research it online. Nestlings fledge at about 14-16 days old. (Did these babies just hatch out?)

I keep an eye on the nest all the following week. The weather is hot and sunny – in the low 90’s all week, and the mother is nesting, mostly, I believe to keep the babies cool.

In the evening she is off the nest for long periods. The father is always nearby. Here he is guarding the nest from above.

And preening himself from below

Rudy got dive-bombed by a robin when he ventured on that side of the back yard. The doggie frisbee fetching game, which David mostly plays with Rudy, I have forbidden until further notice, since both the dog and David get carried away forgetting which direction is unsafe for a Frisbee, sailing through the air at 20-30 mph. …

Although this is the safe end of the yard, the Frisbee could just as likely be sailing through the other end of the yard where the robins are nesting. It’s a miracle the Frisbee hasn’t sliced the nest out of the tree already.

Friday, August 1st, six days after sighting the nest, a big wind swept through our back yard.

Okay, so the wind had kinda waned by the time I captured it on video – but the initial blast of wind shot me out of my chair in the den, where I was watching TV, to check on the birds. The wind didn’t even sway the nest, to my surprise. The wind (and Rudy’s bark!) warned of more dangers that lurk to destroy the chances of survival for young robins.

It’s Saturday again. 7 days from when we first discovered the nest. 11:45 AM. I am relaxing on the deck – have just opened a book, when a black and white gooey blob of bird poop hits the bulls-eye – right on my head – drips down my forehead. “Wha-the?..” Was that on purpose? I look for adult robins straight up into the trees above me, but see no visible perpetrators. Wily! Into the house I march to clean up my hair, face, glasses, shirt, and – finally I’m back out again.

I look over at the nest – one hatchling is perched up on the side of the nest – oh my goodness!

I took a video:

The outside temperature is already soaring toward 90 degrees.

By 12:10 we’ve noticed the first bird (a fledgling now!) has jumped onto a tree limb

“They fledge because an instinct tells them they must, ” is how one article put it. At 12-14 days their brains are ripe to learn a lot of important skills – to walk, hop, balance on branches … it’s time to get started! (Okay – so that nest has been there at least 4 weeks!)

The mother (or father) comes with food. Which bird do you think gets the worm?

Awwwwww. That’s motivating! The first fledgling! The bird out of the nest gets the worm! (What can humans learn from this? – “if you want to be fed, you must be out of the nest.” hmmmm …)

The second bird is out and up on the side of the nest now

We keep watching – It’s 1:15 now. For the past hour, the first fletchling has been balancing, standing, shaking, chirping, pruning her feathers (okay, could be a ‘he’) mustering up the courage to jump! – since the baby birds can’t fly yet.

I go off to do something in the house. Return at 2:05 – 50 minutes later. The first fledgling has hopped off and is gone! The second fledgling has hopped off the nest and is perched down the limb about six feet away from the nest.

The second fledgling stood there for the longest time – preening his feathers, exercising his legs, checking out his balance, chirping, stretching his wings, mustering up all his courage – to jump!
I watched him for quite a while – Thought I might catch him jump in a video:

His mom or dad came with another worm, too. “You can do it!” they seemed to be chirping at him from not far away. Megan kept watch while I finally went off to do other things in the house. Finally at 3:18 (75 minutes later!) the bird jumped. Megan saw it and called out to me. I ran out and captured it on video just as it hopped to the end of the back yard into the peonies.

Meanwhile …. a third beak poked up out of the nest. The runt! I had seen a tiny third beak poking up between the other two – just once in the past week. I thought that bird had died. Hadn’t seen it at all amidst all this other activity.

Oh my goodness. Where has he been all this time? He is so much tinier than the other two – surely mom and dad will let him stay in the nest another day or two till he’s ready? He’s a late bloomer. Probably got bullied in the nest by the other two all along. He just needs a little time to catch up.

What do you think? Does he stay or does he fledge today? ….

Tags:Robin's nest, Robins Fledging, summer in Idaho
Posted in Idaho, pets, Robins | Leave a Comment »

Rudy got fat

April 6, 2014

When our two older sons grew up and flew the nest we entered a new stage of life. Even the pets we had when the boys were young grew old and died. So six years ago we got a new puppy. A red miniature poodle. We named him ‘Rudy.” We’ve spoiled him rotten, which is of course, our perogative. After all, he’s just a dog.

But he’s a happy dog living in happy dog heaven. Why? Table scraps. He has trained us to be messy cooks who drop bits of hamburger, cheese, turkey, bacon, cooked brocolli, even ice cream (whilst pretending it’s an ‘accident’, of course). He stands waiting-and-ready by anyone at the kitchen counter, to pluck any wayward bit from mid-air, or to lap up any mess on the floor. He will gladly help with the dishes, too. He’ll hop up on the counter when we aren’t looking, lick the plates clean, you know, so we can just put them in the dishwasher. Lick the counter clean too.

“You bad dog. Don’t give me that look. You’re not getting up on the counter!”

I remember when we first got Rudy and I was supposedly training him. A book written specifically about poodles stated in bold letters on about page 2: Do not feed poodles table scraps. Nothing should be added to their dog food.” (yes, I can hear you now.)

Lately, for a while now, I’ve realized he’s gotten fat. I’ve started shaming him about it. “You’re fat!” But he’s so adorable and bouncy and cute, and happy, who cares? He’s just a dog.

Signs have been there that he has been, shall I say, ‘expanding’. When we walk him in the park nowadays strangers will say, “Ah, what a cute dog! What kind of dog is he?” To which I’m thinking, Are you daft? Don’t you recognize a poodle? Actually, yes they do. But features like ‘stocky’ and ‘rotund’ or any description reminiscent of a ‘butterball’ do not describe poodles. People do know poodles. They’re just not recognizing that Rudy is one.

So, enter, a fatty tumor on Rudy’s left side. It appeared a couple months ago and has grown bigger. Megan and I took him to the vet last week to have it looked at. We got good news – and bad news. Good news: It’s a confirmed fatty tumor (albeit not a large lump of butter lodged under his skin that he filched from the butter dish). It’s benign. “No – it’s not going to grow tentacles or metastasize.” (Whew!) Bad news: Rudy had gained 1 1/2 LBS since his last visit. (I must stop these visits to the vet!)

“How fat is he?” I ventured to ask. The vet’s assistant hopped right on the question – taking various measurements of Rudy – his neck and head (which, admittedly his head is the only thin part left of him), his upper and lower leg, his torso. Then she disappeared, and returned with this 3-page printout – Rudy’s customized doggie-weight-management program. Page 2 presents the ugly facts along with visuals:

Can you guess the breed of any of these dogs? I guess it’s your generic ‘tubby-living-a-dog-heaven’s-life’ breed. The news is not good in regards to Rudy. As a male “POO” his ideal weight is 13 1/2 pounds. With his real weight at 20.9 pounds he’s at 48% body fat and “at ‘serious risk’ for arthritis, diabetes, reduced mobility, increased physical injury, Cancer, respiratory disease, kidney disease, Pancreatitis, and shortened life expectancy.”

You expect me to pay for this vet visit?

We left the vet’s office with Rudy on a strict weight reduction plan along with a bounty of doggie heath improvement products, luckily most of them samples: Special Diet dog food, to be precisely measured and rationed throughout the day, reduced to account for additonal supplements, like the sample glucosamine chondroitin chews they sent home with him for joint support. Which begs the question, what about our joints? Give this supplement to our dog and feel it’s not necessary for us? Of course, his incessant leaping off our elevated antique bed would be the equivalent in height to us incessantly leaping off the roof of our front porch. Anyway, don’t think we’re going to spring for the enzymatic powder to sprinkle on his food for dental health – (hey, only 60 bucks for a 4-month supply!). I did buy some enzymatic toothpaste with a doggie toothbrush – both of which have since been sitting on the kitchen counter, unopened.

So my plan is to have Rudy down to 13.49 pounds in 27 weeks. The weight loss graph is all printed out on the third page. I took a ‘before’ picture of him – you know, the ‘before a third of what you see here’ melts away:

I’m not sure about that look he’s pulling off with his eyes. Maybe a “Are you sure you’re gonna do this to me?” look.

I shared the whole plan with David. “Geez.” he said. “Let him enjoy life. He’s just a dog.”

And then after a long pause, “You’re not going to start on me next are you?”

Tags:miniature poodle care, poodles and table scraps
Posted in Diets, pets | 2 Comments »

Duck Spring

June 3, 2013

Spring! It seems that everything bloomed at once here. It warmed up at the beginning of May and everything popped. I’ve missed it some years. This year I buried my face in the lilac blossoms

to inhale their fragrance.

I took photos of the snowballs in spring.

and the towers of flowers

perched on their branches like Christmas trees.

The flowering crab in the center of our back yard

is maybe not as showy as some of the other trees in town.

Here is a photo of our front lawn.

Grows fast this time of year. If you look very closely you can probably see it growing in this picture.

David is having to mow it about every five days. ‘Tis the season, honey!

For the last few summers he’s been hauling the grass clippings to the back yard and dumping them under the spruce tree by our storage shed.

Spring flies by so quickly. Early on we had ducks flopping out in our front yard. We found it amusing – pairs of ducks waddling around the neighborhood – napping in front yards. Our dog, Rudy couldn’t abide the ducks. He’d bark at them through the front windows and run them off.

A pair of ducks started frolicking in our back yard. We were amused. We’d let Rudy out, and he’d tear after them as if protecting us from an armed invasion.

Then one day I was out planting flowers and noticed him behaving very un-poodle like. Poodles see a squirrel or some other movement in the yard and they tear after it without hesitation, barking like maniacs. They are not your quintessential hunting dog. But this particular day Rudy pointed toward the back spruce tree, froze into a hunting-dog pose, lifted his right front leg, took a step forward, posed, lifted his left front leg, nudged his nose forward, then … CHARGE!! he went after whatever it was under the spruce tree to flush it out.

“FLAP, FLAP, FLAP” out flew a female duck with Rudy on her tail. I thought the duck would collide with the house trying to escape, but she soared up over the roof. We laughed.

I really wasn’t paying much attention, but did notice that that duck was hanging around. One day I noticed her sitting in the yard maybe 10 feet away from me as I was pulling weeds.

Meanwhile, Rudy got into this ‘patrolling the backyard’ mode. It would start in the den, where I was relaxing.

“Okay! You have my attention, Rudy!”

He wanted out.

Scoping out the yard now…

He runs to the east fence and barks at the neighbors, just in case there’s any kids around. I have just called to him to get him to stop barking:

He’s at the gate now…

you know, scoping out the action on the street.

Now he turns his attention to the spruce tree, strikes his hunting-dog pose, and …. CHARGE!!!

“FLAP, FLAP, FLAP”…out flies the duck from under the spruce tree.

Huh? Surely, she couldn’t be nesting back there?

OMG!

She is well-camouflaged – hard to see her but …. she’s there

Here you get a little closer view of her – her cute little tail is curled up out of her “nest” (which is, basically, a hole she scratched out of the middle of a pile of grass clippings).

I couldn’t get to sleep that night for thinking about the fate of that poor mama duck and her babies. Why did she make a nest on the ground in a suburban fenced yard with a dog? How could she possibly keep that nest safe for her ducklings to hatch – what with the crows, blue jays, robins and squirrels, AND DOG lurking about. If those ducklings do hatch, how are they going to make it safely to water from our back yard?

On Friday I went back out there. The duck was gone.

Oh, look!

Something got to the nest already! These broken eggs were out in the yard maybe 15 feet from the nest. Oh, how sad. Oh well, thank goodness. It’s a relief, really. The whole scenario was doomed from the start.

Whew! On with our lives. I’m planting flowers. Rudy is patrolling the yard.

Then he does it again. He charges under the spruce tree.

“FLAP, FLAP, FLAP” Out she flies.

You’re kidding!!! She has more eggs! She is still there, sitting on her nest.

Now it’s Monday. Rudy still patrols the yard, but I watch him and every time he pauses and strikes a pose toward the spruce tree I call him – and award him with a treat for coming. This morning he walked near the nest, peered over at it, I called him and he left it alone. Good dog!

How is this going to play out?

I am going to try and help that nesting mama duck under our spruce tree in the back yard.

Leave her be as much as possible for the 28 days her eggs will be incubating.

The only predictable outcome is that Rudy will surely grow fatter from all the treats he’s getting for coming when I call him away from the duck. If we do see this thing through and those babies hatch out there’s no telling how Rudy will react to a chirping tiny yellow duck invasion.

Uh, did I also mention our neighbors have cats?

Tags:Duck nesting in back yard
Posted in pets, Spring, Uncategorized | 5 Comments »

‘Rudy’

April 5, 2010

I’ve spent a lot of time in the house these past four weeks, keeping Megan company while she’s in her two casts. We’ve done okay. Pretty well, actually. I’m trying to read more, write, dream …

However, quite often as I’m settling in my chair to read or relax, I’ll get distracted by something, like the furniture arrangement across the room –

which just doesn’t look right, and I’m compelled to get up and rearrange it.

Then some other form of bad feng shui catches my eye, like this scene in the same formal living room:

That sharp purple corner of Megan’s bed sheet is emitting poison arrows which look to be shooting into the carpet, but in reality, the arrows are ricocheting off the carpet through the air toward my face. Bad feng shui! Bad energy! I must tuck that in.

However, whether minor or major, most distractions at home seem to involve our dog, Rudy.

For starters, I’ll be at the kitchen table trying to read when there he is at the back door, wanting in:

I don’t even recall letting him out. But I get up and let him in. Three minutes later, he wants out:

and back in.

I get up and let him in again. And try to ignore him. But it’s impossible. Because he’s bored. And hyper-energetic – he hasn’t been getting his walks. What Rudy needs is vigorous extended play with his ‘punky-monkey.’

Except a few weeks back, while I wasn’t looking, he ripped his punky monkey apart and de-stuffed it all over the house. I gradually collected all the scattered bits of white stuffing into a bag and shoved it and the limp monkey into the buffet. Well maybe now it was worth putting the thing back together. After all, this house confinement has been hard on the dog.

So I pulled the stuff out of the buffet and set it on the kitchen table. Was it really worth the effort to put the punky monkey back together?:

I had a little coaxing from the dog:

Off he goes!

He loves his punky monkey!

Hump the monkey!

This helps him compensate for the problem he has with our cat Tee-Box –

who dominates him, posing as ‘evil kitty’ daunting Rudy to just try and pass him on the stairs.

Which, overall, can be a good thing. Because Rudy is liable to get into something when he knows we’re not looking. Like the upstairs bathroom trash. He knows he’s being bad. He’ll sneak up to the trash bin and snatch the largest and most disgusting thing he can find and race into our bedroom with it and and dive under our bed

for a private chew fest. He’s in heaven here and I’m on my knees cleaning up his mess.

He’s humping his punky monkey again, mostly to raise his alpha index:

Uh oh! Punky monkey is giving out again.

There is only so much abuse a little stuffed monkey can take. It’s back to the clinic for the punky monkey.

No problem because Rudy has a second-favorite monkey, his “new monkey.” He has found it now.

Throw the monkey!

Which, I do, of course. Wish I could throw it five blocks.

Because, sure enough, he’s right back with it. I’ll throw it again. Anything to wear him out.

Oh no!!

Poor new monkey is nearly ripped to shreds. It’s off to the clinic for him too.

Luckily, David is home now and can take the dog for a walk.

In the Idaho spring arctic temperatures.

Hooray! The dog is finally worn out.

Okay, so we are too.

It’s a new day.

Here we go again.

Ah! Except we have invited Rudy’s girlfriend “LA” over to play with him.

She’ll wear him down!

I may not be writing a novel, but at least maybe now I can grab a few minutes upstairs on the computer to write on my blog.

Oh! I’ve just received a text message from Megan, from her recliner downstairs in the den:

“Rudy wants in.”

What? Dang! You’re kidding.

I pull myself away from the computer to go down there and see for myself:

Rudy and Little Angel are wanting in all right. Well, I surely don’t remember letting them out.

Tags:family dog
Posted in pets | 3 Comments »

Trippin’ – II

August 5, 2009

Thought it would be cool to post some pictures to accompany my previous (rather verbose, I see in retrospect) blog about our trip to Coeur D’Alene. Caraher's At Wedding So here we are at the wedding reception on Saturday July 25. There’s the family patriarch back center in blue, my darling husband, David, a.k.a. ‘Father Time,’ who has since shaved his beard and gained about 15 yrs. life-expectancy. You will see the mindful matriarch, me, the short one, front-middle. That is Ben on the left, then Megan, and Aaron on the right.

I’m a little more hesitant to post photos of my family on my blog since hearing on the news yesterday about a Massachusetts mother who found her 7-month-old baby up ‘for sale’ on Craigslist. Her baby’s picture had been lifted from her family blog and advertised as a ‘cute baby baby boy up for adoption.’ She had been alerted by someone who recognized this baby as her son. The mother carried on elaborate correspondence with the website where she learned that her son was supposedly in an orphanage in Camaroon, a republic next to Nigeria. Ultimately the scammer wanted $300.00 to ‘start up the application process.’ Bingo! It was at this point that the mother alerted authorities of the scam.

It might be nice to know as a parent that if you have reached your wits’ end with your kid then you could put the little rascal up for adoption on Craigslist. Or at least threaten him or her with it as a stress buster/behavior management strategy.

I’d like to list our not-so-cute hollyhocks up for adoption on Craigslist. As you can see, they didn’t fare well while we were on vacation. Albeit, they must not have been faring too well before vacation. But here is what they looked like when we got back. Blame it on the ‘s-s-s-s-s-s-slugs’ (Jamie Foxx voice here) and f-f-f-f-f-ing-fungus.

I saturated both sides of every hollyhock leaf with an anti-fungal/insecticide guaranteed to kill about everything. The fungus is called ‘rust,’ I found out, when I took a leaf in to a local greenhouse for a diagnosis. I called a good friend of mine who has had hollyhocks for years and asked her about rust, “Have you seen it on your hollyhocks?” “No.” she replied. NEVER? “Hey, slugs and snails, come git’ yer’ slug bait I’ve laid out for yer’ big dinner party pig out…”

Backing up to our trip, the Coeur D’Alene Resort has had some more ‘after-midnight-we’re-gonna-let-it-all-hang-out’ drama since our infamous vacation ‘fire drill.’ I didn’t take any photos of the resort but in searching for a link on the internet to give you an idea of how large this place is, I came across news of another drama that happened after midnight a few days after we were there. All I can say is, I would advise anyone planning to stay at the Coeur D’Alene Resort that in addition to packing sleepwear that can be donned quickly and worn in a crowded public setting, you might also want to curb your drinking on the balcony, particularly if you are the manic or depressive type or if you anticipate partying with anyone inclined toward over-zealous histrionics. You might consider reserving a balcony room exclusive to the first story or perhaps spring for a room without a balcony. Just a thought …

Last but not least, I must post some photos I took with my i-phone on our 480-mile trek back home through Montana from Coeur D’Alene to Idaho Falls.

This one was taken in Montana, south of Butte:
photo(4)
“Big Sky” Country!

Big Idaho Sky
Big ‘Idaho’ Sky! – above

Who took this?
Uhhhh…?

“Big Coeur D’Alene Lake Bottom?” I honestly haven’t a clue.

Where did this picture come from? It appeared on my i-phone amongst all the other ‘trip’ photos. Where were we here and what in God’s name were we doing? Those rocks just don’t look like mountains illuminated in the sunset to me. Did something go awry with this trip that I am not remembering? Did I … swim? How grateful should I be that I (and all the rest of us) am … alive?

Life is good … I’m bent on living the ‘next 24’ a little more gratefully. “More consciously aware” might be prudent too, although I wouldn’t want to get too over-zealous about it.

Tags:Coeur D'Alene Resort, Craigslist, Gardening
Posted in Gardening, photography, travel | Leave a Comment »

Have Camera, Will (Not?) Shoot Foot.

June 9, 2009

It happened in the back seat of our rental car during our trip to Phoenix in April: I accidentally activated the camera function on my new i-phone and, poof! – I took a picture! Then I took a bunch more. I can store them on the phone or delete any photo – it gets sucked off the screen and into the trash by simply touching the trashcan icon in the lower right corner. Although once you suck a photo into oblivion, I don’t think you can unsuck it, which, for me, sucks – and which might explain why I now have over 70 photos stored on my phone. I’m rather attached to them. This also explains the profuse addition of photos to my blog (novel idea- geez, why hasn’t anybody else thought of this?). And I have to admit, it’s down right painful now to view my pre-mid-April picture-less blogs, all of them a sea of words, words, words! Photos are the bomb! Er, what I mean to say is, some of my photos might classify as bombs.

You figure it out

Take this one for instance. I was aiming to shoot scenery out my passenger window as it flew by (no, not the window, the scenery). I had the camera ready to roll and … poof! Well, I missed my foot. What you see here in focus is the dash of our rental car. The rest of it is up to artistic interpretation. This was like, my fifth or sixth photo and I was really flying with this i-phone photography, or so I thought.

Below you will see a more successful attempt at my capturing the sunset, um, over some hills or something, not sure. I’m very good at math, so I calculated the upcoming sign rushing toward us at 75 mph vs. its distance away, over time, so as to push that camera button at precisely the right moment, to capture this photo:

What were the odds?

I don’t know why I don’t have photos of the magnificent red rock cliffs of Sedona, or of Indian ruins we visited. These photos pretty much comprise the scope of my Phoenix shoot.

And I’m thinking it’s time for me to get a photo of myself on my blog. I would feel real comfortable with the look of my High School senior portrait, but since I graduated from High School in 1971, guess I should opt for one a tad more recent. I haven’t tried taking a picture of myself with my phone – admittedly, that sounds like a fiasco. Although I feel confident that I could take a pretty decent photo of my foot.

Tags:i-phone, photography
Posted in photography | 5 Comments »

The Decompression of a Boomer