A yucky surprise

I picked up our daughter today from school to take part in an age-old, well a year or two old, tradition of pumpkin carving.   Usually, we do it a week or two before the big holiday but we, or rather I, procrastinated to almost the 11th hour this year.   I could have blamed it on the high pumpkin prices this year or lack of the perfect one, but since we got a free one from the store for dressing up yesterday, my excuses wouldn't work this time.   I thought I could claim the lost hardware excuse too, since I was sure that our carving kit had been thrown out the last time, but alas, it was in the utensil drawer where it should be.   With no excuses, and almost no time left, the kiddo and I started on our task.   She drew the outline and I helped her with the fancy toolwork of cutting out a crescent-shaped mouth along with the top part.   She's never liked to reach in and pull out all the pumpkin guts unless she has a long handled spoon, or if she is using my arms to do it.   I convinced her to do some interior cleaning of the pumpkin while I tried to capture the moment.   I think from the look on her face as she is excavating the pulp and seeds, she is not having a great time doing it.   Framing her eyes with her fresh hair cut and the hand covered with the gross stuff, my photo did a good job in illustrating both her disgust for the moment as well as her beautiful blue eyes.   Of course, I may not be able to pull the same trick next year as it will definitely be my hand and arm covered with sticky, orange goo.

To grill or not to grill

If I wanted to look into the archives of the Wisconsin Supreme Court and look for a law that is on the books regarding use of a grill, I would most definitely find one that says that it is required to be used between the months of May and September.   Any other month would be optional.   Today, with the weather playing the part of the Wicked Witch of the West with chilly temps, a cold rain, and a stiff breeze, I had that nagging feeling that I wanted to fire it up.   Sure, I would have been out there in a heavy jacket, gloves, and a stocking cap, but I would have been standing in front of my kitchen making dinner the Neanderthal's way, minus the propane.   I thought it would be fun to try and photo-document the experience given the challenge of the low light and temps, along with controlling the grill so my garage wouldn't burn down.   Sadly, since I neglected to check the level of my propane tank, I ran out of gas shortly after dropping my chops on the grate.   I did manage to catch a few shots of the meat on the grill and this one was kind of neat.   With the black space in the grill along with the dark skies, it seemed to make the chop just sort of float there.   I thought the seasoning made a neat story as well.   While I had to bring them inside to finish the dinner, and curse myself for such a rookie mistake, we could still taste the cast iron in the pork making this a perfect end to a cool, rainy night.

Family game night

We've got a quasi-tradition here at the Levia household where we attempt to have a game night at some point on the weekends.   Of course, things get in the way like shopping, cleaning house, or general stuff that moves game night to the next weekend or the one after that.   When our daughter was younger, we'd resort to the age-old comfort of Memory or Hungry Hippos.    Later, as she fell asleep, I would challenge my wife in a no holds barred contest of financial domination with Monopoly or attempt to stump her vast knowledge of useless facts and figures with a myriad of Trivial Pursuit games.   While one would be the Scrabble champion for the week, the other would reign supreme with an impressive run as the Boggle leader.    Now that she's older, our daughter joins in with some spirited fun as we play the Game of Life or even Sorry.  

My dad, for one Christmas, gave us a game that I had never heard of, but owes its start to the pubs and taverns of England.   "Shut the Box" is a game that has the numbers 1-0 on a swivel and the player throws a dice, matches the number to the corresponding swivel, and throws it down.   When the player has turned down the last number, they shut the box.   It's quite fun, if played with a certain level of intoxication, and makes an interesting photograph too.

The missing link-age

In a previous posting, I made a picture of my trombone reflecting a picture of my dog lying on the chair.   When I was doing those, I thought it would be a neat subject to go back and do some more photographs of the different parts of the horn.   While my feelings are obviously biased, there's not many more beautiful instruments out there than a clean and polished trombone.   When a musician takes the stage and blows amazing music through it, the feelings that come about are too numerous to mention.   It reminds me of the many recitals and concerts I took part in and did my best to bring out of the piece what the composer intended.   Whether it was playing in a symphonic band, holding my own in a quintet, or just blowing long tones in a practice room, just the fact that I put horn to face was something great.

I took this photo of the F-attachment linkage on my horn and thought it made a neat subject.   The stark contrast of the horn against the white drapery made it stand out very well.   One challenge I want to try and achieve would be to do a self portrait of me playing it and that may result in a future blog posting.   For the time being, the memories I have of those playing days and the ones I make by playing new things will make do.

Light it up

There's a lot of enjoyment to drive down a darkened street and see a house that is completely decked out with lights, yard decor, and other festive thematic stuff to mark the occasion.   Whether it's a giant, inflatable Santa guarding the front door or an oversized, furry tarantula laying claim to the front yard, it is almost an art form with all of the different ways people celebrate the holidays.   Stringing lights is one of the things that I have struggled with when it comes to sprucing up the house to announce the upcoming holiday.   It's almost as if I need an advance degree in geometry, physics, and calculus in order to compute the angles, length, and area of the windows as it relates to the lighted length of the string of lights that is to be put up.   I successfully decorated our front windows this year with some orange mini-lights, fabric pumpkin lights, and an interesting spider web light fixture as well.   Today, I wanted to see what kind of picture I could take of the lights outside.   Moving around them, inside and out, I tried all sorts of angles to get a neat photograph.   This one, I got underneath the window and shot up and wanted to see what it would like if a whole cluster of lights were in the shot.   Interestingly enough, I focused on one light and saw a neat picture unfold with the out of focus light bursts giving a bit of depth to the photograph.   With only a few days left until Halloween, I look forward to catching the ghosts and ghouls of the night walking around collecting copious amounts of great tasting sweets and enamel destroying chocolates.

Ties that bind

I'm no John McEnroe, nor can I claim to be anywhere close to being a junior varsity tennis player.   I can count on one hand the number of times I have played a game of tennis and less than that the number of times I actually completed one.   When I first attempted to swing a racquet, the ball rocketed over the top of the high fence and resembled more of a home run hit than a controlled volley back to my opponent.   The equipment used in the game confused me a lot, until I began working for a sporting goods store a few years ago and learned quite a lot about the game.   Pressurized balls, polycarbonate racquet construction, and even stringing a racquet suddenly became part of my daily vocabulary and routine, creating a brand new obsession and appreciation for a sport I was unfamiliar with.

 

Simple objects can paint an interesting scene when photographed which is how I interpreted the knot structure on the tennis net at the park close to home.   While the air was quite crisp and the skies were covered with clouds, taking the pictures in that environment didn't seem to be an issue at all.   The contrast of the tennis net against the grey backdrop actually seemed to help out the setting as I framed the shot.    It's times like this which gives me a lot of motivation to explore more ways to take ordinary pictures and turn them into extraordinary stories.

Oh my gourd!

Gardens, in my opinion, are used primarily for the growing of vegetables and plants that would taste great in a freshly made salad, garnishing a nice steak, or maturing in a canned sauce in a dark pantry.   I have never really seen gourds being grown, rather just the product afterwards: a dried out, hard, colorless shell that works great for baby rattles.   They are everywhere hanging up on walls and have never really appealed to my tastes for decor.   My perceptions; however, all changed when I saw this beautiful cart full of gourds of all shapes, sizes, and colors.   Yellow, orange, green, and red gourds filled this rickety cart and painted an amazing palette for autumn.   Turned over as if filling the bamboo basket, I was quickly reminded just how Mother Nature continues to amaze.   Each one had it's own characteristics with bumpy warts on the outer shell and necks that twisted all around.   The long stems and star shapes made me imagine them being turned into hummingbird models or a kiwi bird sculpture.  All of a sudden, my entire outlook on how gourds are grown, harvested, and utilized was transformed into how artists can turn them into an amazing animal out of a normal vegetable.   Quite possibly, I may just open part of my garden space next year and plant a few gourd plants and create a color palette all my own.

A Titan-ic rollercoaster

Growing up, I can't remember ever being so devoted to a sports team that I am to the Tennessee Titans.   Sure, I had my collegiate allegiances to my alma maters and the old high school and elementary school spirit, but I haven't had the emotional attachment to any one team.   Maybe it was because the closest pro team was hundreds of miles away in Atlanta or St. Louis, or I was always doing other things in the neighborhood, or because it didn't interest me at the time.   Whatever the reason, I didn't start following any team until the Houston Oilers packed up and moved to Tennessee.   The first few years of their existence, they had no real home field to play in and the underdog mentality was fierce.   After building an impressive stadium on the banks of the river I grew up watching as a kid, they had a home and a big following.   I remember then that the Titans could do no wrong; the players and coaches alike were celebrities among men and their autographs were highly sought after.   Now, many years after the relocation, I feel the ups and downs of any sports fan and it can either bring great excitement or terribly agony after a weekly game. While I can't boast to fans of other sports teams of the Titans' many Super Bowl trophies, the high number of future Hall of Fame inductees, or the division champion banners hanging from the rafters of the stadium, I proudly sport my Titan blue colors whenever I can and will gladly discuss the outcome of any game that might have gone our way.

That's a-maize-ing!

We went out to our favorite "pick-your-own" farm today to enjoy the corn maze before it gets plowed under to make way for next year.   While the corn stalks were dried out and falling over, it still had that strange feeling of being lost and your bearings being all out of whack.   It was a bit unseasonably warm today which made it very comfortable to be out in the middle of the field not knowing where we were.   What made it more fun was that the farm had positioned five little "roaming gnomes" around the maze and had the kids search for them.   If they found all five and remembered their names, an ear of indian corn was their prize.   Of course, since they had an endless supply of the afore-mentioned corn, basically any kid could just walk up and get one just for being there.   All-in-all, we did our best and Olivia found four of the gnomes.   One of them was extremely adept at not wanting to be found so we couldn't find that one.  

I snapped this shot of her as she found the first one and initially thought it wouldn't come out.   She moved quickly during the shot and had a scowl on her face as she just wanted to keep going.   Surprisingly, after seeing the pictures, she has a great look to her and her eyes are very striking as well.   Another one of those neat pictures taken when I was doubting my ability.   We had a great time and can't wait until the one for next year.   Hopefully, we will get there while the stalks are green and it's quite a bit harder to find your way out.   I doubt, thought, we'll call 9-1-1 if we get lost.

Agony of de-feet

I had every intention this evening, as I went out in our front seasons room, to photo-document the "raising of the lights" that I worked so diligently on today for the Halloween season.   Proud as I was of the job that I did in stringing a couple hundred lights and mounting them on the outside windows, I couldn't quite get the picture right to go with the story I wanted to tell.   I mean, we have some neat lights out there: some fabric pumpkins, a spider web, along with the standard orange-colored mini lights on a string.   As I was trying to get a shot of one of the pumpkins, a sign we have hanging on the wall kept precariously moving itself to get in the picture.   No matter what angle I tried, that pesky "Home" sign wouldn't let up.   Finally, I gave in and began shooting it so the darn thing could rest easy.   It was like a model shoot as I walked around it, shot it from above, both sides, and below, all the while motivating it with all sorts of praises and accolades.   Inspired by all those Corona commercials, and some neat photos I've seen centered around vacations and sunny back yards, I lay down underneath it, took off my socks, and shot my own feet propped up against the wall.   One of the neat things about it is the fact that the sign is metallic black and it contrasts really well against the white plaster wall that is in that room.   Of course, while I would like to think that I have the feet of an angel, I am sure some would agree that a pedicure should be in my very near future.

Got Milk-weed?

One of the neatest things about the changing of the seasons is the strange beauty of the leaves falling off the trees, the grass changing colors, and the flowers and plants losing their luster and expelling all their seeds to continue the circle of life.   It's odd at the same time because all this beauty comes essentially from the death of everything.   Strange as that may seem, it starts to bring a pretty picture to all those trees void of leaves or fields of corn plowed down.   Soon, all those empty fields and barren branches will be filled with blankets of white snow and the only color that we will see will be white.

This is a picture of a milkweed expending it's seeds inside that I took at the prairie site here in town.  Since there wasn't a lot of color to balance it out, I wanted to transfer it to a black and white setting and I think it really brought out the texture of the seeds.   Interestingly enough, with the windy weather we've had the past few days, not long after this picture was snapped, the wind picked up and blew most of those seeds away.   Truly a lucky shot which, I have discovered, have been one of many that have fallen into my lap these past couple of months.

The lineup

No matter where I've lived or been, it seems that everyone said at one point, "Close only counts in horseshoes and cigars."   Whether or not that is true, the horseshoe reference hits a bit close to home, because I happen to live in a place where there are actual horseshoe throwing leagues and they definitely love their sport.   Anywhere you go in town, there are fields set up with dozens of horseshoe pins and the local Moose lodge apparently hosts many different tournaments throughout the year.   I've learned that there are weighted shoes that you use for different situations and training techniques so that your throws are on target every time.   It's almost like there is a Major League of Horseshoe Throwing to compete alongside the Adult Dodgeball League or the Kickball Sports of America.  

I found this horseshoe field, court, or course, or whatever it's called, at the park and wanted to try and take some interesting shots of things that were quite ordinary.   Thinking that it would be a cool way to show the pins, I set them up in a lineup of sorts and captured it in the best way I could think of.   The clanging of the metal shoes against the pins was playing in my mind as I imagined what it must be like to be part of a tournament that I'm sure involves a lot of beer, wings, and extremely colorful language.

Ducknapped

I would like to think that I was born with a pretty good sense of humor.   Not too crazy, not very offensive, and just silly enough to be funny.   When I see things that could possibly have another meaning, it's fun to try and make a little fun about the situation to bring in a bit of that humor to it.   At the neighborhood pool, there are two areas making up the complex: an adult, olympic-size swimming pool and a smaller kid-size wading area.   In the wading pool are several fountains, one being a oversized rubber ducky that spouts water from its beak and has a slide going down its back.   With the seasons changing and the cooler weather coming fast upon us, the city drained the pool and began to batten down the hatches, so to speak, on the fountains in the pool.   Wrapping the duck in a tarp and plastic, it made a kind of funny picture of an oversized duck being held for ransom by some evil, oversized kid looking to cash in on a jar of cookies or something.   I can almost read the letter now:

If You waNT to See THe duCKY aliVe agaIN, SenD 1o0 freShlY made CHOColaTe chIp cooKIEs and twO glASSes of chocoLAte MILK in AN UNMarked SippY cuP aNd plaIn cookIe JAr.   DroP ofF at the Chuck-E-CHEesE beForE mY BEdtiMe aT 7:30.

Trophies

At the entrance to our neighborhood recreation park and pool stands a relic from a war fought so many years ago.   I never realized what it was there for, nor the history behind it, so I figured that today would be a good day to study it.   Walking around the 6-pounder gun for a little bit taking a few pictures, I noticed a plaque that said it was a trophy from the Spanish ship "Infanta Maria Teresa" taken from the Battle of Santiago near Cuba in the Spanish-American War.   It was the flagship of the Spanish navy and it led a last-ditch effort to break the American blockade of the ports and escape, but not before destroying as many ships as she could before she left.   Unfortunately for the ship and the crew, the American navy was better equipped and fired all of their guns at the Maria Teresa over several hours, crippling the ship and causing it to turn and retreat toward the safety of the Cuban beaches.   The defeated captain scuttled the ship and allowed his men to escape into Cuba, exposing them to the native residents tiring of the war.   After the Americans confiscated the ship, they attempted to renovate it, but to no avail.   As with any victory in war, pieces of the ship were sent to cities around the country to display as trophies, one being sent here to Monroe.

I took this photo of part of the gun that had a barbed-wire connection and thought it was pretty interesting.   Whether it was part of the original piece, or a support piece that was added later, it made me think of how that image of the wire is a reference to those held as POW's.   Kind of brought the experience full circle after doing a bit of research to where the gun came from in the first place.   While not a trophy I would want, it's a piece of naval history that documented one country's fight to survive along with a captain's drive to escape by all means necessary.

Who Arted?

Our daughter has always had a gift for creativity, probably inherited from her parents, but has blossomed in her own way.   She consistently goes for the paper and crayons to make stories, write books, or illustrate pictures of her family.   She loves to sing, making up words to everyday songs, entertaining us along the way.   There have been pieces of her art hanging in the city library, on the wall of the neighborhood gas station, and on our family refrigerator of course.   A few contests have gone her way, either at the hair salon or at my workplace where she's won assorted prizes and gifts that she had more than deserved.   During the first few days of moving into our house here in Monroe, we had a great friend come and get her for a few hours so we could work on getting things in and out quicker.   During her stay, she painted a pretty good portrait of the sun pushing it's way in the sky amongst the clouds.   Very colorful and thought out, she completed it with her name, forever cementing her place in the art world.   I took this picture today, as we have several of her pieces in our front four-seasons room, like the flower pot she made for Mothers' Day and a birdhouse constructed during one of her kids' days at The Home Depot.   Thinking that it would make a neat shot with her name on her masterpiece, I snapped this picture and hoped to include a piece of the birdhouse too.   When the time comes around, I can almost be certain to hear about an original "Olivia" to be auctioned off at Christie's, that was painted during her "formative" years.

The story of Dracu-Laura

My daughter was talking about a doll for the past couple of days because one of her friends at her after-school care had them.   Because of the quickly approaching costume and fright season, they must be the most sought after toy since the Furby.   Okay, maybe they aren't that hot, but they're still pretty neat and a must have for my 7 year-old.   Barely able to contain herself, my daughter was chomping at the bit to get her "Monster High Dracu-laura" doll last night after dinner.   Not one to be completely satisfied with just one doll, she had to go get her new toy a companion today so they would be able to roam the night together.   And, so she could one-up her friend at after-school care with an extra doll she didn't have.   Tonight, she helped me with my blog and suggested we take some pictures of her outside next to our halloween decor.   After taking a few, I found this one to be pretty cool in that the entire background is blacked out, due to the low lighting and the external flash I was using.   The colors she has are quite vibrant and I did very little editing to the picture.   In fact, I didn't enhance the colors at all, just cleaned it up a little bit.   All you Christmas gift givers out there, she has decided she wants the whole collection and all the beds and accessories they come with.   Now that is certainly trying to "keep up with the Joneses".

Release the hound!

Today was the 17th annual Greyhound Gala gathering sponsored and hosted by the GPA of Wisconsin and is their biggest fundraiser and celebration of the year.   I have been the past two years before this and it seems like it gets so much bigger each time.   Hundreds of greyhound owners and their beloved pets get together to socialize, reminisce, and talk about all things hounds.   There are vendors selling collars, beds, leashes, and dog coats along with the groomers there clipping nails, brushing teeth, and giving full body doggie massages.   Games are played all around and usually my grey participates in all of them.   However, he either had some performance anxiety or he has become so used to retirement, he forgot what he did before he came to us.   There was a kind of apple bobbing game that was tweaked a little bit to be "bobbing for hot dogs".   I watched a couple of doggies attempt to catch the wiener before it hit the bottom of the dish, but they backed off as soon as their nose got wet.   My dog wouldn't go near the bowl and had nothing to do with the bit of hot dog offered as a reward.  

The pinnacle of the event is the aptly named "radar run".   An area is set up outside where your dog is released and it runs toward the sound of a squawker, an instrument with a sound like a rabbit in distress used to lure greyhounds.   I watched dogs run down that strip of land like they had just got off the track.   Some were clocked at an amazing 45 mph and others were topping the high 30's with ease.   Confident in my hound, I entered the run and let him do his thing.   As the squawker started to bleat, he just casually made his way down the run, trotting to a scorching 27 miles an hour.   I realized then, that he is more comfortable wasting the day away lying on the couch where the only place he has to run is in his dreams.

Throw the dog a Bone

I dragged out my trombone today and had to brush off the dust on the ole chops to practice a little bit.   Scales, long tones, breathing exercises, etc. were on the menu as I must have made the neighbors wonder what cow had been lured into my house to die.   Amazingly, after not playing daily as I did many years ago, the muscle memory sprang back to life and I was belting out excerpts from "Blue Bells of Scotland", "Flight of the Bumblebee", and the trombone part in the Tennessee Tech Fight Song (Go Golden Eagles!).   Well, maybe just the fight song part, but the memories came flooding back.   It was fun to delve into an improvised dixieland tune or just tinker around with circular breathing, triple tonguing, or breath control.   I would like to think that I could step back into the band ranks and carry my own against all those up and coming guys and gals ripping out the t-bone riffs.

 

I stopped briefly to catch my breath, get a drink to quench my parched mouth, and to massage my lips when I thought it would be a neat picture if I snapped my instrument on it's stand.   When I walked around it, using a variety of different lenses, I saw an opportunity to catch my dog patiently listening on the chair through the bell of my trombone.    The natural lighting through the window helped out and an added bonus was the panoramic capture of the room in the background.   Picking up the horn again, I could only imagine being back on the recital stage and my dog was the ever-present and extremely forgiving audience I once played for.

Foggy Bottom

This morning, a gift was delivered to me that I gobbled up like a hungry bear.   With the rainy weather we had last night and all day yesterday, the ground was saturated with moisture ad the temps got a bit cooler this morning than it was the day before.   That created a pretty thick fog that lay over the town today like a blanket.   Therefore, my subject was going to be pretty clear to me.   A couple of spots here in Monroe make great backdrops for fog photographs and I tried to get to them as quickly as I could after dropping off my daughter at school.   This is at the train tracks leading out of town and I was fortunate enough that the fog had not yet lifted when I got there.   While not a soupy, thick fog that I love to shoot, this one still enabled me to paint a picture of what the mind thinks lies beyond it.   I thought back to a scene in my head when I was doing a Civil War reenactment at Shiloh National Military Park earlier this year.   A film studio was shooting a movie there that I was a part of, and the scene was that of soldiers emerging through the thick smoke of cannon fire.   I watched as it unfolded and the smoke was so thick, you couldn't see your hand in front of you.   As the director yelled "action", I watched in eerily silence when all of a sudden, the shadows began to take shape in front of me as the profiles of the soldiers came into view.   The steely, blue color of this fog makes it just as mysterious as that scene and relates well to the month of October as the fright season is upon us.  

peek-a- BOO!

One of my favorite holidays of the year, strictly from the thematic aspect, is Halloween.   It is exciting to decorate the house and light up the windows to display my inner child's hunger for all things spooky.   I will never be accused of being one of those neighbors who suck power directly from the transfer station to light up their million lights, but my family can always count on me to transform the front porch or windows into my own personal horror show.   While I would love to drop an entire year's salary on decorations, the ones I do get still have a bit of our humor in them.   This year we put out some decorated garden stakes that we got shortly after we moved in last August, along with many other bats, spiders, and lights.   One of them is a pumpkin stake that has those googly eyes everyone loves to see.   I took this picture today and thought of the "Kilroy" reference made popular from an earlier episode of M*A*S*H.   Framing the shot, I  imagined a couple of little pumpkin hands holding on the bottom of the frame as if looking it.   The colors were quite vibrant as well when the sun decided to shine from behind the clouds that had been overhead all day long.   With over half of the month over, I am sure that there will plenty more Halloween themes to shoot and blog about.

I see you

Some of the neatest photos, in my opinion, are the ones that are of other people taking photos of the photographer.   Most of the time, I've never been able to capture a good picture like this because either the camera is out of focus, or the lighting doesn't quite work, or I can't focus on the person right.   The best part of this; however, is that my wife is as much of a photography enthusiast as me and we have a great time shooting together.   We've taken thousands of pictures and usually try to "one-up" the other one with that one great shot.   The ongoing joke is that there's never going to be another great one like the "microphone" photo.   Long story short, we had made a trip to Sun Studios on our anniversary several years ago and we were shooting photos during the tour.   She took an amazing picture of the microphone that Elvis, Cash, Lewis, and others sang in, and the lighting was low.   There was a shadow cast over it that made it seem like it jumped out of the darkness and the impact was pretty good.   That said, it's been a standard bearer for most of our photo shoots.

I took this one not knowing what would become of it and the one she took of me wasn't all that great.   However, in editing the picture, I noticed that you could make out the trees behind me in the camera lens and an ever-so-faint image of me and my camera as well.   I like how the focus is on the lens glass itself and she is blurred out as if a secondary subject.   I really enjoy accidental photos like this and every time I take them it continues to feed my appetite.   However, I have quite a long way to go if I want to replicate the infamous microphone.

With honor

Just north of town sits a small park, used primarily as meeting spaces for family reunions, corporate cookouts, or small and intimate picnics.   On the land is a large tank that stands guard to the park, as well as marks the spot where a veterans' memorial will soon stand.   Sometime in the future, there will be a space for those who served and gave the ultimate sacrifice will be honored with a walkway, obelisk, and other items of remembrance.   There's not a day goes by when I don't think about how lucky I am to be living in a place where perfect strangers defend my rights and allow me to be free.   Friends and family alike have served, or are serving, and there's no question that they are some of the most powerful superheroes that comic books wish they could write about.

I went there this morning and wanted to capture both the rusting tank in a flattering way as well as incorporating the flag for the symbolism.   While the rising sun was playing havoc with casting shadows everywhere in the tall trees, I was able to get this one that showed both the tank, Army logo, and the flag standing tall behind it.   Interestingly enough, when I was out there this morning, there was a breeze that was blowing leaves around, but just before I took this picture, the wind died down just briefly enough to let me know it was okay.   A moving tribute from Mother Nature to honor her troops.

Biketober

There's a saying here in WI, as I am sure is true everywhere, that if you don't like the weather, "wait 10 minutes".   While the waiting period has come and gone, our weather here has been as enjoyable as ever.   Sunny, warm days with low humidity, clear skies and cool nights with a slight breeze to add just a bit of crispness to the air.   It's almost as if Mother Nature is playing a little tease game with us, telling us to enjoy it while we can because there is a storm a-brewin' come November and the winter.   Today was a perfect day to take my daughter over to the church parking lot, let her ride her bike, and be the subject of my ever-present camera.  

She rode around and around in giant circles, did figure eights, and practiced braking with the hand brake as she honed her skills in anticipation of the removal of her training wheels.   We had to stop every now and then while a car passed through and I had the perfect opportunity to snap this shot of her.   As we waited, she struck her perfect "rock star" pose on the back of her bike for me and it was pretty good.   It took a little bit of coaxing, since she has become a 7-year old going on 16, but what transpired made the effort that much more worthwhile.   It's great to be able to have cooperating weather along with a kid who likes to have fun in order to make a picture come alive.

The child

"Can a mother forget the baby at her breast 
   and have no compassion on the child she has borne? 
Though she may forget, 
   I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; 
   your walls are ever before me."   Isaiah 49:15-16


Just down the street from our house is St. Victor Catholic Church and school and a statue devoted to the children of the parish.   It has a relief of a toddler being cuddled in a large hand, probably the hand of God.   This is another one of the many woodcarvings located around the area that have a meaning to the people who have commissioned them.   I've always walked past it when training my daughter how to ride a bike in the parking lot there and figured that it was just a meaningless statue for the kids at school.   Today, as I wondered how to frame the shot, I saw the bible passage on the base, hidden by fallen leaves and underbrush.   When I hear the children playing and having a good time on the playground during the week, shouts of joy and excitement filling the air, there is a bit of comfort to know that they are being cared for by the watchful eyes of the teachers and being soothed by the hand of God.

Ollie up

I've never been a "skater" although I have attempted to operate a skateboard once in my life.   Let's just say that it turned out pretty much like my one motorcycle driving attempt, which I fell almost immediately after starting off.   My brothers were into it when they were younger and it amazed me what they could do with the board.   Jumping over rails, sliding along the street curbs, or just flipping the board around with their feet was like watching a professional honing their craft.   Of course, wherever I went there were numerous signs warning those skating that it was not welcome in that particular place, from threats of arrest if found skating to financial punishment if the warnings were not heeded.   The whole culture of the early skating world influenced quite a bit of the fashion world with the loose clothing that would hide the not-so-cool padding and guards.

There is a skate park here in Monroe that encourages the local skateboarders and rollerbladers to hone their skills and have fun.   I discovered it when I was driving around and found the prairie subject in an earlier blog post.   I started walking around looking for the good angles and shadow placements when I found this rail and laid down on the ground to get the perspective.   The shadows cast from the rising sun along with the contrails in the sky from the airplanes framed it quite nicely.   It peaked my imagination a little bit as I visioned a skater jumping over me and becoming part of the shot.

Cow Town

It's no big secret that we here in Wisconsin love our cheese in more ways than most people love their families.   There are shrines made for this dairy delectable with the Foamation cheeseheads seen around the state, cities named after cheese types (or the other way around: think Colby, WI), even one cheese production facility devoted to the creation of Limburger cheese, the only one in the US.   Amazingly enough, there is a festival dedicated to the celebration of cheese that is so large, it only happens every two years and has it's own king and queen.   Three of the largest employers in Monroe are cheese manufacturers and make up quite a lot of the community supporters in the area.   To top it off, the high school's mascot is a cheese maker, so the devotion to cheese is hard to ignore when living here.   We have a visitor center that is a museum to the art of cheese making and a place to see all of the early instruments and equipment that was used for that art.   On the property stands a caboose and a small house that once made cheese in the early 1900's.   A neat feature is a cow statue which is one of many dotted around Monroe and Green County that documents different industries for the area.   The one I shot today is nicknamed "Honey Belle" and she's dressed in the typical dairy farmers' uniform: checked shirt, overalls, and a stylish trucker's cap looking the part.   She stands at the entrance as if like a hostess inviting the visitor to the experience of cheese.   When you drive past the center, if you turn the radio down, slow to a crawl, and hang your head out the window, you can almost hear that cow beckoning you to come in and celebrate the passion of the dairyland.

Taking Stock

The fairgrounds here in Monroe and Green County are not the largest ones by far here in the area, nor in the state, but they have a bit of character to them all their own.   The grandstand area is kind of an interesting structure in that you actually enter them from below.   There are many different out-buildings on site housing the 4-H groups, camping offices, and agricultural industries here in town.   On most days, the grounds are deserted, only the animals of the neighborhood reside in its recesses.  An earlier trip directed me to the several barn quilts that dot the buildings here and gave me a good subject to document.   Today, I decided to capture the livestock buildings as the day began to break over the horizon.   The shadows that were cast over the windows and under the awning drew some neat lines as well as gave some interesting depth to the overall picture.   While the building is bustling with activity during August and sounds of pigs, chickens, and cows are heard over the auctioneers singing the bids out, it was quite calm this morning.   I stood there taking the pictures and could almost hear that musical baritone voice exciting the crowd and parting them from their hard-earned cash to get their hands on the newest prized show turkey.

Comfort and Joy

Everyone in their lifetime has had some article that they've clung to for support when they're scared, lonely, hungry, or sad.   Some have had blankets, others had pieces of clothes, still others had small statues of religious icons.   I grew up with a doll I got as a 3-year old named Joey.   I never went anywhere without him as a young boy, taking him with me on camping trips, weekend excursions to the country, and back and forth to school.   I cut his hair thinking it would grow back, I washed him after he became sodden with mud from a romp in a giant puddle, and I thought he might look better in cleaner clothes.   Of course, all this did was make him look more weathered and antique, but he was still "Joey" to me, clean as the day I got him.   Now, I still have him, but my articles of comfort and joy are geared more toward humanistic things.   Seeing my daughter light up when she gets a surprise in her lunch or hearing the happiness in my wife's voice when a moment at work goes her way.  

My daughter's comforting toy is her stuffed rabbit that she got when she was about the age I got my Joey.   It goes everywhere with her, sleeps with her, and has taken numerous trips through the washing machine.   We have taken it across the country on our different moves and it has always had a seat right next to her in the car.   It has a place of prominence in her hierarchy of stuffed toys and may never leave her side.   As she gets older, I am sure her rabbit may one day become part of the items slated to be stored forever in her tupperware totes, but as of right now, it gives me comfort to watch her enjoy the friendship she has with it.

Colors

With the changing of the seasons now upon us, I am sure that this won't be the only entry where I dedicate a photo to the amazing fall colors that our senses are treated to.   The leaves are turning warm shades of oranges and reds and the air has the scent and feeling of a winter's wrath about to strike.   All throughout the city and the surrounding area, tree-lined streets and avenues are being painted these warm hues by Mother Nature and almost tell those iconic Norman Rockwell stories of Americana.   Today, I decided to make a trip to one of the parks near my daughter's school after dropping her off to see what would transpire.   The sun's direction was very cooperative with me as I wanted to try and capture the warm hues of the different trees all around me.  

This season reminds me of when I was younger and the streets of my neighborhood were always filled with piles of fallen leaves.   We would run from across the yard and dive head first into them, showering the street with them and aggravating the adults who would summarily throw a rake in our direction to clean up our mess.   That eventually turned into driving through them at top speed and splashing them back into the yards they came from.   These are the experiences I am excited to watch my daughter do as we begin the task of cleaning up those leaves from our yard and piling them into the street, hoping that nobody decides to splash them back onto my lawn like I did so many years ago.

History living

Today I went with a coworker down to the small city of Stockton, Illinois where the local chapter of the NRA and another Civil War reenacting group hosted the annual Battle of Morseville.   While you won't find this skirmish in any history books, because it never took place, it has been fought every year for the past 11 years in a fictional turn of events.   It usually takes place on the first weekend of October and has artillery, cavalry, and infantry battling each other for control of the fictional Morseville Pike.   Today, cannon fire rained down powder across the field while the infantry units attempted to out-flank the others, all taking heavy casualties.   The rebel cavalry units tried to launch a sneak attack on their Union counterparts, to no avail, costing several lives.   After several grueling charges and counterattacks, the Rebel forces negotiated a cease fire with the Union commander, ending the bloodshed and turmoil of the nearly 20 minute fight.

I've been involved in a lot of living history events and reenactments, but this one was unique.   It was special because the patriarch of the family that owned the farm with the surrounding land specifically put this part of his farm aside for the strict use of telling the story of the Civil War.   Several times a year, living history events are set up there at the farm culminating in the big battle that happens this weekend.   While the rest of the farm is used for soybean and corn production, this is a fine example of one family's quest to assist with the education of all those who choose to immerse themselves in the history and legacy of our ancestors.

Rein-deere Games

Everyone has a road trip game they play in order to pass the time and keep a sense of sanity in the car so that nobody's nose becomes bloody from a fight.   Growing up, I remember playing license plate bingo, attempting to be the first to get all the states on our way from Nashville, TN to Charlotte, NC.   There was the infamous "Slug Bug" game that was played whenever an old VW bug would cross our paths.   We tried to count counties, look for rivers, and countless other mind numbing activities to keep us occupied.   You couldn't drive 10 miles in any direction in TN without seeing one of the famous "See Rock City" signs emblazoned on the rooftops of rural barns, and that was turned into a game.   We began to play a game driving back and forth from Madison, WI simply called the "John Deere game".   We would scan the horizon and call out the John Deere tractors, combines, lawnmowers, or yard ornaments that had the iconic logo and green colors.   Of course, the one with the most points for sightings always won, sometimes the extra person in the car giving their points to the losing one for extra help.

I used to always attempt a big win when coming back into town because of the dealership that is on the outskirts.   Lots of JD implements sit there waiting for a new owner, and because I'm a bit taller than my daughter, I would always see them first.   Shouting out a "John Deere 10,000 points" would typically help me win the game and start a rivalry that would fester until the next trip out.   I went by today and used the setting sun to try and give me some good backlight for taking this picture.   With a pretty neat shot of the sun shining in its window, I really enjoyed the colors that this tractor gave me for the shot.   Of course, now that I have snapped this photo, when our next trip begins, I can reach back into my blog and claim one more John Deere point.