OWL! That hurt.

After work last night, I came home and began my usual routine that happens almost as soon as I get in.   Greet the doggies, grab something out of the fridge, heat it up, pour a glass of tea, get my grub from the microwave, and head into the computer room to eat and check up on the day's events.   It was dark, as always, and I had just begun to see what had transpired across the world on CNN when something caught my eye.   Looking over, I could have sworn I saw a menacing great horned owl staring back at me with its yellow eyes as if to tell me to get out.   While I did see that big bird looking at me, it wasn't menacing nor was it beckoning me to leave.   What I saw was an amazing piece of art made by my wife and daughter at her girl scout meeting yesterday for a Christmas parade happening later this week.   It was constructed out of paper mache' and then my daughter glued feathers all over the head and neck.   While it has a few more things to make it complete, it looks like it already belongs in an art museum next to the likes of Rockwell, Pollock, and Warhol.   Sure, I may be a bit biased because of her rich lineage, but you will have to judge for yourself on the level of artistry in this piece.   While I won't be able to be there on Friday night when she joins her friends for the parade around the square, I can almost hear the gasps in the crowd when she walks dressed as the best looking great horned owl in the midwest.

Not on my shelf.

The tradition goes by several monikers: "Elf on the Shelf", "Gnome in the Home", or "Troll in the Bowl", but the one we use is the story of Christopher Pop-in-Kins.   Sure, the "troll" and "gnome" ones are probably not traditions that are well known, and ones that I made up, but the first one I have heard about many times.   Several years ago, we began the tradition here at our home with Chris and it is a much anticipated event each year.   On Thursday night, we will read the book of Christopher Pop-in-Kins and how he is an elf much smaller in size than the other elves at the North Pole.   Wanting so bad to be part of the build-up to Christmas, Chris goes to Santa and asks if there is anything he can do in order to help with the season.   The big guy tells him that he is to go into the houses at the beginning of December and keep the little children's minds busy by playing hide and seek with them each night, only to move to another place in the house the next night.   Of course, if a child touches him, he loses the magic and must return immediately to the North Pole.   Watching our daughter get excited about the tradition only makes me want to continue it as long as we are able.   When I started to take his picture today, it was as if I saw a twinkle in his eye as if to say that he is just as excited about the journey as we are.   How he moves from place to place each night is a mystery to me, but soon I'm going to catch him making his jump from shelf to shelf and spill his secret.   I'm watching you, Christopher.

Who needs skates?

I've attempted to ice-skate just once.   It was many years ago and the entire experienced probably lasted about 10 minutes.   Gravity was my enemy that day and after the umpteenth time that I found myself sitting on the ice rather than standing over it, I hung up my ice skates never to grab them again.   My daughter had an opportunity to experience the ice skating fun with her girl scouts and, at the last minute, decided that she really wanted to go.   While dropping her off, I had that eerie shiver go up my spine as I had those visions of her falling all over the ice as she has picked up some of the gracefulness that I have when it comes to extensions of our feet.   As a concerned parent, I kept hoping that the phone wouldn't ring telling me that there was a terrible injury or something like that.   Thankfully it never did, and when I went to pick her up, she was having the time of her life.   Not from having skates on her feet, but figuring out that having fun meant that she could still be on the ice with a chair in front of her to balance her out.   She was pushing that thing around as fast as an Olympic skater and almost as graceful.   Her friends would then join the chairs and form a human train to push around.   I thought back about how much more enjoyable my brief ice skating career could have been if I had only had a folding chair to pull out of my pocket for balancing.   Maybe we could have skated together during this outing and had a great time.   But, watching her have fun was just as great.

Zoli Claus is coming to town!

As with the summer season, our acclaimed wood artist, Zoli the Woodcarver, has decorated the square with his amazing works of art carved from a tree trunk.   There is a 7-foot nutcracker standing guard in front of the Cheese tavern, a Santa accepting mail in front of the bank, and another two Santas striking poses around the other parts of the downtown area.   The tree will be decorated this weekend with a parade to top off the festivities.   Kids of all ages will march with handmade signs and costumes to mark the occasion no matter how cold it may get by then.   The lights around the square are being put up rapidly and soon the lighted Santa sleigh with his reindeer will be landing on the top of the bank.   It's definitely Christmas season here in Monroe.   I wanted to try and capture this moment along with an inclusion of the iconic clock tower I've challenged myself to get in different lights.   The sunset actually helped me catch a lot of the warmer hues in the brick of the courthouse and the santa sculpture.   The woodcarving also included a toy bag thrown across his back and it had a lot of detail in it, from bulges depicting large boxes to small trinkets poking out from the top of the bag.   Zoli has done it again, giving the city of Monroe an amazing gift to share with all who go to see the seasonal decorations.

What's next?

It's hard to believe that this is my 100th blog posting.   When I began this back in August, I had a bit of an idea that it would be a journey, but really no idea where it would take me both in the art of photography, but also picking subjects for the blog.   I thought it would be pretty easy when I started out, as there were so many things here in Monroe to document.   However, when it continued, I began to realize that my blog really wasn't about taking pictures about stuff about town, but creating art with the pictures that I take.   Whether they be of landmarks, people, or historical buildings, the photos that I take really aren't about documenting the history of them.   I have come to believe that the photos are of every day life and what they mean to me.   My project is nearly 1/3 of the way done and I have so many more ideas for subject matter for it that I am excited to see what more I can do in 265 more postings.   I thought that the photo of a blank sheet of paper with a pen was poignant in that it represents a clean slate of sorts; an empty box waiting to be filled with ideas to be put in photographs.   Getting better at this art is my goal as well as sharing the journey with the ones that read the blog.  

Karma is a funny thing

It has always been a running gag in our house that I've had a hard time believing when my wife is sick with anything more than a stuffy nose.   I look back, lovingly of course, at the countless trips to the ER to find out that the terrible bout of fever, sweats, headaches, stiff joints was not anything but a cold or sinus infection of sorts.   There is no immunity for me from this, because I, too, have had to make those quick trips as well from things as small as a rash to as serious as cardiac issues.   However, it was earlier this week that I needed to rush home from work to assist my ailing wife, calling me to tell me to come home as soon as I could.   Being the non-believer, I brought her to the ER to ensure that her cold was properly treated.   Looking back, however, it was probably a good choice to do that since she had been traveling for the previous two weeks and could have caught a serious bug from overseas.   This history all comes back to yesterday.   While my wife began the road to recovery and felt much better during our Thanksgiving holiday, almost as soon as she was on the mend, I felt myself going down the same track.   This morning, I woke up feeling like I just got run over by the same truck that hit her earlier in the week.   So, as with most things, I really shouldn't have questioned the health and wellbeing of my wife, supported her a bit more, and not rushed her off to the hospital to quell my own doubts of her illness.   I will remember to do that next time, as I focus now on sucking down the water, eating as much Advil and Sudaphed as I can, and wiping my runny nose, feeling like I'm sure she did earlier this week as she laid on the couch needing me to be with her.

Giving Thanks

I would love to say that this holiday was well planned, that the menus were carefully put together from old family recipes, and the bird had been brined to perfection.   It would be great to think back on how we polished the silverware and set the dinner table with the fine china and wine glasses.   Picking the right music to accompany our meal is also generally a priority but all these things just didn't happen as they usually do on this day.   This year, we fell a bit behind the 8-ball and just didn't get things going as quickly as we would have liked.   That resulted in my last-ditch effort to run to the store and pick up all the things we normally make: green beans for the casserole, rolls, sausage for the stuffing, and of course the pumpkin pie.   The bird was put in the oven to bake and that was our cue to relax for a minute or two before beginning the other preparations.   Well, that minute or two turned into several hours which resulted in a mad dash by my wife and I to get things together since the turkey was already done.   While it may have not been planned out the best, the best thing was that we were both cooking together and spending quality time as a couple and a family.

I am very thankful for having a great family and being part of an even bigger support system from my family and in-laws.   Being the parent of a smart, healthy, and happy young girl is also a reason for being thankful.   She volunteered to help me walk our dogs tonight, which triggered the opportunity for photographing it.   While the low light wasn't ideal, it was a great time to take this shot of her giving some affection to our dog, Sam.   While only one day of the year is set aside for giving thanks, not a day goes by when I'm not thankful for being her dad.

That sweet sound

Concerts and recitals have been such an integral part of my life since I was a young tyke learning how to play the trombone.   It was always such an emotional roller coaster when getting ready for a performance with all sorts of things running through my head.   Is my instrument in good, working order?   Do I look silly in my suit?   Did I practice enough with my accompanist?   What kind of response will the audience have?   That was only the 3 seconds before walking out on stage, not anywhere close to the thoughts running around my head for weeks beforehand.   After all those recitals and such, the endless dress rehearsals, the recordings from the concerts, the musical trips for performances, and the long nights in the practice room, I can only think that it made me that much better of a musician.   But what made all those years more special is that I would like to think that I was able to pass some of that talent and knowledge down to my daughter.   She loves to sing, draw, paint, and pretty much anything that is related to the arts.   I can't say that I've been prouder of her than when I got to see her annual fall concert with her classmates.   She'd been talking about it for weeks, especially after finding out that she was given a solo.   Sitting there in the audience, I was so proud when her teacher introduced her for the beginning of the "Rudolph" song, and brought her to the front.   She was amazing, obviously, and made her dad both proud of her performance and nervous for the many more I'm sure she will do after having many of the same nervous moments I experienced just a few years ago.

What's my name....pt. 2

As a continuance of yesterday's post, I wanted to continue of the subject of ancestral history and the treasure I once received that has a volume of information regarding my family's past.   A paternal grandparent thought that it would be a good idea a long time ago to write it all down so it couldn't be forgotten.   While the information is useful, the bigger picture was that it led me to discover so many more aspects of my life's beginnings.   Had I not opened the pages and researched the names, I would never have discovered that my great-grandfather had fought one of the hardest battles in the first World War at Argonnes, France.   I would not have known that my Woolfolk and Mehaffey fore-bearers actually lived next to each other in South Carolina back in the 19th century after immigrating from Scotland and Ireland.   It would have never led me to find my ancestors that fought valiantly in the bloody Civil War for North Carolina and continued the family growth that led to my mom being born.   It was in my college years before I began to fully understand where I came from and the mysteries surrounding my birth name.   My parents had decided to make a highly personal and very painful decision to completely change their names from their given ones to another one that better suited their situation then.   It was a decision that always seemed to bring roadblocks to understanding why I couldn't find any "Levia" ancestors in my bloodline.   Of course, understanding the words in the family bible's ancestral registry, it became a passion to bring it all together.   I applaud the efforts that a grandparent had to ensure that my daughter would have a source to go to in order to understand where her family tree branches out.

What's my name?

I constantly am amazed about how quick a photo journey changes course when the subject matter all of a sudden becomes something that was completely unintentional.   Just as in many of my previous posts, I had an idea of what to journal and even went so far as to stage the scene so I could get the shot right.   My original plan was to photo document a cherished artifact in my family that was inadvertently left behind many years ago in my family's possessions: a family bible.   As a kid, I always remember seeing the weathered and beaten leather bound bible, and even reading it many times.   There was a genealogical chart in the middle which I never thought to spend too much time looking at.   When I was a young boy, my "traditional" family had broken apart, causing new families to form with more brothers and sisters.   Moving many times throughout the years, I always packed the bible up and brought it with me, still not paying attention to what was written inside.   Eventually, I began to study the chart, did some research, and traced my ancestry back way before all the handwritten entries by a paternal grandparent were etched out.   I grew up a lot since then and continue to appreciate the lineage that is written out.

 

As far as the subject matter is concerned, it is almost too convenient that this chart and history is located right in the center of this bible.   The reason for it's convenience is that the book right before the chart begins is the Book of Jonah.   I flipped through the brief story and thought that this would most certainly be my picture of the day.   It would be such a great anecdote to say that my name was pulled straight from the pages of this book with all the trappings of having my birth name be that of a sea-faring traveler who had to cement his relationship with God.   If you hear my dad tell the story, he'll say my name came to him from behind a full moon.   Whatever the reasoning, I'm proud of my name and the history behind it, written down in the pages of this family bible by someone who could not bear to see the legacy disappear.

It takes a village

Today I made the annual trip to our neighborhood Lowe's store (I use "neighborhood" loosely as the closest store is about 75 miles away) in order to select my newest addition to the Christmas village I have slowly expanding in the dining room.   A thick fog of anticipation clouds my mind as the holiday season gets closer because I know that it means that my city can grow and prosper.   It's a lot of fun selecting the right house or business and even neater to see what kind of new design the makers will come up with this year.   I began this village in 2007 with the purchase of an Irish pub (of course) and continued with buildings each year since then.   This year, I added a Cheese factory (again, of course) and a house to add to the "residential" street, separated from the "businesses" as the collection is getting a bit larger now.   My subject is the piece that has an antique fire engine driven by horses.   I like how the firemen really look like they are racing to extinguish the flames as quickly as they can so that save the integrity of the village.   The Irish pub invites you to stop in for a pint after you've delivered your Christmas packages to the Post Office for that holiday delivery.   Soon, the lights will be added, the Barn Dance will be rotating with the dancers, and my Cheese shop will look as if it's ready for you to pick up the holiday box of dairy delectables.  

Mommies

So, I will first preface this by saying that my mother did not know I was taking her picture and will probably be mortified to know that it is one that I chose for the blog.   I wanted to get her in a moment that she didn't know I was taking it, which was quite hard as she was always watching.   Those of us with mommies still kicking are very lucky to have them be full of unconditional love for the kids that they have raised.   I am very happy to have such a great mom that is able to essentially put her life on hold for a week or two while I need some extra help being a parent.   She came here to WI in order to take care of my kid for me when I was at work and my wife was out of the country.   Not batting an eye, she jumped right in and started to make our daughter stay busy and not be focused on being mommy-less for the time.   Of course, I was treated to home cooking that only a son could enjoy and learn how to make biscuits with a bit of love.   My daughter and I both learned new crafts, as well as some new jokes to tell, and got to spend a lot of time just appreciating the time together.   My heart does hurt for those of my friends who, for some reason or another, don't have the ability to have their moms here anymore.   That only makes me thankful for the time I have with my mom and cherish each time I get to talk with her.   No matter how old we get, moms are the glue that holds us together with a simple hello, an embracing hug, or that twinkle in her eye when she is holding back on a surprise for you.  

Lens Solution

To zoom or not to zoom, that is the question.   Close-up, wide-angle, low profile, or high POV are some of the other perspectives I try to work on when framing a shot or thinking up of a subject.   Keeping the flash on for some sharper images or turning it off to capture some warmer shots is another dilemma any photographer worth their weight in bologna tries to weigh in composing the picture.   Shooting the same subject with a variety of different lenses makes for unique stories and brings about the challenge of improving on a daily basis.   Years ago, I never understood why anyone would lug around a backpack stuffed with camera accoutrements and constantly switch out lenses while chasing his kids around the zoo. These days, I am that guy and struggle with the best of them all for the chance to capture a perfect moment in the lens.   Thinking that it would made a fun little subject, I put together a few of my lenses and tried to make the picture takers become the pictures themselves.   Whether or not I achieved that particular goal, it was neat to stage them in a way that makes me imagine more of the photographs that can come from them as I keep moving forward to become better at my craft.

The Shadow knows

Photographs of shadows have intrigued me because of the mystery surrounding the subject.   If you're indoors, it's a lot easier to manipulate the picture since the shadows are generally controlled by the photographer.   When you bring the camera outdoors, however, the background and subject is usually dictated by Mother Nature herself.   Clouds, plants, birds, or whatever else there is impedes the point of view of the photographer as they attempt to frame the shot.   Once in a while, though, the powers-that-be controlling all of those things fall into place and present a great picture opportunity.

Walking my dogs this afternoon, I found myself in the middle of one of those when I walked along the back of our yard where our neighbors installed a new fence.   The sun had positioned itself in the sky and the pickets of the fence cast long shadows against my yard making neat geometric patterns with the leaves. I wanted to try and catch a perspective of the ground along the fence line to make a good contrast.   Thankfully, I think, it all worked and I managed to capture one of those moments in my lens.   I can only hope that the lucky streak continues through the life of this blog.

War games

There's not much more entertainment to me than waking up after a night, not much colder than an arctic winter, in a canvas tent set out in the middle of the country.   The birds and insects are the alarm clocks of nature as the sun peeks out from beyond the horizon to announce another wonderful day.   Shortly thereafter, the air will crack with the thunder of cannon fire and the ground will tremble under the marching feet of several hundred men marching in step as they go toward the chaos of war.   Bugle calls blare across the field ringing in the orders from the generals, causing a macabre excitement of what's ahead.   After twenty minutes of endless musket fire and the perfection of Hardee's drill marching, the fight stops almost as soon as it begins.   While it may sound like a page right out of "Gettysburg", it's really a playground for big boys and girls who love nothing more than dressing up in period costume and reenacting a scene from the American Civil War.   I've been doing it for many years now and have always been interested in the historical aspect, but really began when I witnessed the excitement up close and jumped in with both feet.   My cartridge box and belt made a neat combination, as I got a new buckle and plate for them.   The photo is kind of a "keep tuned" type of picture as there will be plenty of times in the near future where I'll be able to live my hobby.   Then, as in events' past, I will stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the next man, load my Enfield with a powder cartridge, and aim it across the field joining hundreds of others in a volley that would make the earth tremble.

Don't fret

Cash, King, Clapton, Waters, and Williams (Sr., not Jr.) are just a few of the names that are synonymous with great guitar pickers and players.   Nothing sounds more comforting than hearing the opening lick to "Layla" or listening to Frampton turn his guitar into a voice box.   I enjoy many different genres of guitar picking along with the banjo greats like Earl Scruggs or the jazz influences of Bela Fleck playing through the bluegrass standards of old or jazz fusion tunes written most recently on the back of napkins.   My family has a long history of musicianship from my grandmother's singing, my mom's ivory ticklin', and others.   What is more enjoyable than watching those famous songwriters and listening to sentimental tunes from my mom's repertoire is hearing my daughter belt out her version of "Rudolph" or strum some tunes on her junior guitar.   While the strings may be out of tune, her tenacity and passion for the craft certainly is far from it.   I have a great time teaching her about the music she enjoys and she benefits from a great music program at school that allows her to grow and learn new things.   I wanted to capture her guitar in a moment that could lead the viewer in imagining their own little one strumming away. I like seeing the contrast of the strings along the fretboard as the light casts shadows throughout.   While I'll never see B.B. King mistaking this guitar for his beloved Lucille, it comforts me in knowing that in the future, my daughter will be a better musician, partly due to this Little Lyon guitar she keeps in her room.

Coming right at ya!

There are still a few places here in town where the trees have not yet disposed of all their leaves and the colors are pretty vibrant.   In most of the area, like my neighborhood, the once-flourishing trees have changed to bare branches with their bountiful leaves now taking space as large piles in the street.   I went out to where we lived after we first moved to the Monroe area in 2008.   The property had four, very large, empty houses that once were the residents of an extended family, similar to a compound of sorts.   We were lucky enough to rent one of them and had essentially the whole estate to ourselves.   While it would take a couple of days just to mow the yard, having our own playground and field to play in was worth it.  They were situated in a circle accessed by a quarter mile-long driveway shaded on both sides by rows of trees.   It was neat driving home each day back then as if I was back in the deep south, driving up Magnolia Lane at Augusta during the Masters golf tournament (as if I've ever really done that).   I took a few pictures of the trees against the road and even had a couple of low angled, perspective shots.   As I continued that, I thought it would be neat to take a few pictures of our car in the midst of all of that and try to make it feel like one of those car commercials.   While it's far from the quality of advertising media, I thought it made a good photo story with our car as the subject looking as if it was coming right at me.

Hands on

All throughout our lives, there are always going to be those "teaching moments" that present themselves in all sorts of ways, especially when they are least expected.   There are also those moments that have a significance to them in that they will probably also never occur again.   Looking back, there have been many of those between my mom and I: learning the piano, understanding the finer points of biscuit making, and gaining a better appreciation of keeping my head in the window of a moving vehicle.   As a parent, it is exponentially more amazing when I get to witness her giving that knowledge to my daughter, a "passing of the torch" in some sense.   While my wife is galavanting across the continents for work assignments, we flew my mom here to help with the child-rearing while I work.   She brought with her a box full of craft supplies and in that is a collection of lap looms and many colors of yarn.   They began to work on small potholders, eventually graduating to dish towel-sized blankets for her stuffed rabbit.   Today, my daughter woke up and wanted to start right away on making another blanket for a toy animal and needed my mom to get her started.   It was a great moment when I saw her hands guiding the shuttle through the strings with my mom assisting her.   This photo of their hands is special in many ways, namely that they are working together, but that it transcends the generations as she learns the craft.   Years from now, she will remember this teaching moment as she passes the knowledge of looms and yarns to her granddaughter, lighting up a young child's mind as they see the project unfold in front of her young eyes.

Back then....

Next September, we are going to be hosting the 98th anniversary of the first Cheese Days here in Monroe. There's going to be lines of people, thirty deep at some points, clamoring to get a greasy bag full of the deep fried cheese curds that have made this festival famous.   The sounds of alphorns will fill the balmy air and endless rows of vendors will sell all their wares in different shapes and sizes of cheese.   While all of us cheese lovers will pack the small town square, it will be hard to imagine what it was like the first time this kind of gathering took place.   Nearly 140 years ago, the first store owner in Monroe was in the midst of and economic downturn, much like is being experienced today.   Dairy farmers and town folks alike were doing what they could to stay afloat, and since frustration only gets worse when the senses are attacked, the feelings of despair grew exponentially as the cheese factory kept sending the wagons stuffed with smelly, Limburger cheese through town on their way to the train stations.   Faced with almost certain anarchy, this man got the wagons to amass on the square, gathered all of the grumbling farmers and residents together,  and told them that these shipments of the stinky cheese would one day ensure their town's survival.  

Today, Arabut Ludlow's passionate call-to-arms for cheese making is evident in that the only Limburger factory in North America is here in Monroe.   While the official Cheese Days would not happen for nearly 40 years later, he is considered to be the founding father of that gathering based on his cunning marketing ploy for the large event he planned on our courthouse steps in 1873.   In the city's cemetery stands a large marker for the Ludlow family plot, which is what I decided to photograph for today's blog.   Memories of him linger throughout the city with buildings, streets, and houses named for him.   But next year, amidst the cow milking contests, art tents, and cheese curd over-eating, it won't be hard to forget what his legacy meant to the survival of our city and the bi-annual festival to the dairy delectable.

It goes to 11

Today at 11:11, I plan on driving 11 miles an hour to the corner of 11th street and 11th avenue with 11 cents in my pocket.   Afterwards, I will drive a circuitous route for 11 miles to highway 11 here in Monroe and make a call to my 11th contact for 11 minutes.   Then, I am going to plan our dinner tonight with an 11 topping pizza paired with a salad with 11 mushrooms, 11 cherry tomatoes, and 11 oz of salad dressing.   Is it just me, or does the number 11 start to look funny after staring at it for 11 seconds or more?   12 guys walked into a bar and 11 ducked.   The high temperature today in Monroe is going to be 44, 11 times 4.  

I could keep on and on, but it would just be silly.   Thinking of a unique way of taking today's special meaning, I went to the corner of 11th and 11th, because, to be honest, I have never been in a place where these two streets meet.   I'm pretty sure the people living on the corner where the street sign is will be inundated with opportunity seekers like me to try and document the special day.   Of course, the day is doubly special in that we honor our veterans who are serving and have served in our nation's military.   Thanks for all that you do and have done in ensuring my freedom while sacrificing so much.

Where am I?

Look closely.   Do you see him?   A little guy in a red and black striped turtleneck with black, horn-rimmed glasses somewhere in the picture.   No, it's not a Waldo excursion.   It's a hunt for the elusive red-tailed hawk.   I went this afternoon to do some shots of the cemetery with the dusting of snow on the markers and a great opportunity literally fell from the sky into my lap.   Driving around, taking a couple of shots of interesting head stones, I heard some rustling in the trees above.   Looking up, I saw a red-tailed hawk preying on a couple of wayward squirrels playing games on the tree trunks.   It kept moving from tree to tree as the squirrels were a little too savvy for him, wrapping around the trees quickly so the hawk wouldn't see them.   I stood there, shivering in the chilly weather as I forgot to dress for the outing, watching this game being played in front of me for about 30 minutes.   As soon as the hawk would position itself in the right place, the squirrels would quickly change course and confuse him.   Back and forth they went, which allowed me to do a lot of picture taking.  

What intrigued me about this picture is that his feathers disguise him well in the trees.   I had a few shots that didn't have his head the right way, making him a lot harder to see.   This one, I believe, shows his expression clearly.   It's almost as if I could hear him thinking that these squirrels better mess up soon so that he can stop working so darn hard to eat a well-deserved lunch.

Snow way!

Yes, sports fans, the dreaded "s" word has reared it's ugly head today for the first time this season.   Sure, it's a wet snow falling on ground that is well above freezing, so the outlook for the rest of the day means that it probably won't amount to anything.   However, with my luck, I did proclaim last night at work and this morning to my mom that, "We won't get anything.   A lot of much-to-do-about-nothing".   Al Roker, I am not, obviously, as I was forced to eat my words along with a bologna sandwich for lunch.   On the other hand, snow falling has a bit of peacefulness to it kind of cleaning the atmosphere and making the quick-browning grass have a warm blanket of white.   I'm sure by the end of the event, there won't be much on the ground to look at, much less snow-blow, but it is the definite sign that winter is now upon us.   So, like every year, we will dig out the heavy coats, dust off the mittens and gloves, find the thermal socks in the bottom of the drawers, pack away the canvas shoes, and gear up for the hibernation that is about to occur.   Then, in August or September, we will witness a record number of births in the hospitals as the results of the long hibernation begin to show what we really do when snow begins to fall.

Curtains up

With the blustery, winter season about to hit us full force, today's forecast was the typical cold and rainy day with no end in sight.   As much as I dislike these type of days for photo opportunities, it forces me to look inside for stories to tell about every day things.   I couldn't have written a script like the one that follows.   I was sitting in my favorite chair (c'mon, everyone has one) and trying to come up with either a place to go or a subject in the house to document.   Looking out the window, I started to notice the different patterns that the curtains, the sheers, and the window screens had as they contrasted against each other.   With the trees rapidly losing their leaves outside, it had a neat backdrop to it.   The crinkles in the sheer looked intriguing as the straight edges of the heavy curtain fell against it.   While the picture beyond the window was a little out of focus, it led me to imagine other things I could do using a curtain sheer or a sheet as a lens to shoot through.  

Dog tired

If I could sit around and sleep as much as my dogs do, I would be in heaven.   Of course, I wouldn't have  a job, my wife and daughter would probably leave me, and I'd be evicted for not paying rent, but at least I would be well rested for an afternoon of doing nothing.   Ever since we got our dogs, they've made the couch, the floor, and the beds their own, sleeping and lounging for hours on end, until the mailman walks by and they have to announce his arrival with endless barking.   But, they're part of the family and we'd make sure that they were always taken care of no matter what.   A couple of years ago, our mixed breed, Sam, had a routine operation to remove a fatty tumor from her leg.   While the surgery went fine, she developed a reaction that caused her skin on one side of her body to die.   She spent nearly 2 months in the vet hospital recuperating and enduring painful skin rubs to get the dead skin off and fresh, new skin to grow back.   While she made a full recovery and is fine, she doesn't have fur on that side of her body.   Since we usually have to recount the whole story when a new person meets her, we've developed funny stories to explain her injury, like she saved all of us from a horrific fire, or she was getting a little too hungry around a turkey fryer, or other things like that.   She was lying on the couch today and trying to fall asleep so I wanted to take her picture and attempt to get that moment.   It's funny when dogs nearly fall over when they try to sleep and stay awake simultaneously.   I got it at the right time and wished for another brief moment that I was in her paws about to take my 13th nap of the day.

Kids at play

The itinerary for today had a visit to the Turner Hall so I could watch the Swiss music festival in all of its glory.   I thought that a photo of me attempting to yodel would have been a great subject, albeit one that would have no sound attached to it.   Believe me, your ears and eyes have been spared a moment they would have never been able to get back.   However, as things usually do, the plans were changed last minute as a friend of my daughter's wanted to come over and play.   Being ever the opportunist, I set up a fashion shoot upstairs and let my camera go to work.   My daughter's friend is just about as photogenic as she is and it makes my hobby so much more enjoyable since I get to do what I like to do and spend a lot of time with her.   As they came out of her room, I played the part of fashion photographer and snapped away, telling them to "work it" and to "walk the runway".   

This was one of my favorites that I took as both of them have so much fun in their faces.   Their eyes are very telling, giving the photograph a unique characteristic showing their personalities.   Another cool accident was that my external flash had not charged up completely giving the photo a very soft feature to the background and their heads.   It went on for another few minutes, but not before catching this moment in time that I can almost see posted in their senior yearbook another 10 years from now.

Enter....if you dare!

As promised, I've included a photo I took of the children's park near my house.   My goal was to try and capture the park in the view of the eyes of a child.   Whenever I go to it with my daughter, I've been guilty of looking at it as a parent.   Yet one more place I have to waste time sitting around when I could be doing more important things, like cleaning house, doing chores, or quality time on the computer.   It takes a moment like this to get a different perspective.   I caught myself crawling on my hands and knees, crouching under the structures, and attempting a cross on the monkey bars.   I went down the slide and swung on the swings a bit just to try and get in the mindset of someone having the time of their life.   It was fun, although I was by myself.   I felt a bit more comfortable that way, since seeing an adult man these days having fun by himself in a kid's park might seem unusual and creepy.

I digress, though, as I liked the way the entrance is modeled after a castle's.   It can be a bit foreboding as itself, but when you look through the doorway, there is nothing but fun inside.   One of the four triangular spires announce the true intent of the play area and the freshly mulched ground invites the child to fall as many times as they want without so much as a scratch.   This experience was pretty neat as I stepped out of my shoes as a 37-year old and looked back at the times I spent swinging, see-sawing, or balance bar walking when I was a young tyke too.

I see me

I went out again with a purpose today, as was yesterday's hope, to take some photos of the children's park near our house.   The city recently cleaned it up after the hard, summer playtime and mulched the ground as well as made some minor repairs.   It's sponsored by Colony Brands here in Monroe and modeled after a mouse and its play area.   The defining features are a few triangular spires topping off different elevated areas for the kids to look out on.   While they make a pretty good subject themselves, there was a brief detour I took on a whim.   On my way to the park, I stopped at a water fountain to snap a few pictures of it because of its proximity to a lake and a very colorful tree losing its leaves.   I envisioned a stark black and white photo of the different pieces of the fountain because I saw a lot in all of the components in it.   Interestingly enough, the water had been shut off probably due to the freezing temps happening at night now.   As I was taking the pictures, I notices that my reflection was very clear in the back of the fountain head so I stopped to take some self-reflection photos.   What I saw was pretty neat, as whenever I've attempted them, they have been out of focus or just not good.   With the sun behind me, it made the metal fountain gleam like a mirror, framing me in the shot.   I took several, but this one is my favorite, even though it's only in half the frame.   The park shots will have to come later along with all those other pictures I've said are coming later too.

Sign of the Times

This was one of those accidental subjects in that I was driving to the park here in town to document the gathering of the geese getting ready to fly South for the upcoming winter.   I was driving around yesterday and saw a group of them, probably three to four hundred strong, all in a field seemingly getting their "ducks in a row" for their long journey.   As I went back this morning, I passed a plain, non-descript building that I go past every day that houses our local newspaper, The Monroe Times.   Standing guard to the entrance is a very interesting sign that has an amazing nostalgic look to with with its weathered backdrop and neon lighting.   No matter when I've been past, it has never been lit up and I began to think that it was probably broken.   The paper is a daily post, with no weekend publications, so the hours that are kept are pretty much 9-5.   However, I've thought that the sign out front is the coolest feature that the building posts.

Today, the weather was pretty much a carbon copy of yesterday's: bleak, blustery, rainy, overcast, and darn chilly.   It was as if the sign of the Times stood like a beacon, reassuring travelers that the weather would soon turn for the better.   I liked the angle that the sign was at when this photo was snapped, again accidental, since I had pressed the shutter just a micro second before I was ready.   The gaggle of geese story will have to wait another day, as the red neon sign took center stage this morning.   I may not catch it on again in the future, but now I feel a bit lucky that I took that road today and saw it shining brightly.

You stalkin' me?

You can't swing a cat around these parts without hitting or seeing a corn field.   It's almost as if there is a crop of corn growing on the courthouse square next to the dairy expo.   Of course, while I'm not condoning the habit of cat swinging, there is something to be said about living in a place where a corn field is growing next door to the local department store.   Small town living has done well for us, as I believe it has benefitted our  daughter in her school and small class sizes, along with being able to recognize and talk with our neighbors or coworkers during a quick trip to the store.   Sure, I'd love to visit an art museum, shop in a big mall, or watch some professional sports where I live, but the tradeoff can be rewarding.

The corn stalks are dried up and ready for plowing as the farmers get their fields ready for the hard freeze about to come.   Today's skies have been overcast all day long with intermittent periods of rain, so a black and white photo was almost certain to be part of the day's post.   I wanted to attempt to tie the corn theme in with the recent news that the "Field of Dreams" site in Iowa had been sold, thus trying to bring in the line "If you build it, they will come", but I thought the picture of the stalks would just speak for itself.   But, I can say that I have just achieved mentioning both the swinging of cats and a reference to the swinging of bats in the same post.  

Salute the Colonel (Kernel)

Half the fun of taking a picture each day is trying to come up with a catchy name or phrase to title the blog.   Of course, today's is no exception as it shows the level of my dorkiness, if that's a word, to tie the photograph together with the writing.   I spent most of the morning pulling down all the Halloween decorations and lights, wondering what the subject for today would be.   As the strands of lights and door hangings made their way into their respective totes, I saw the cob of Indian corn that our daughter got at her corn maze experience and thought it would make a neat picture.   The yellow and dark colors of the kernels contrasted well against the husk leaves as I sat it on our couch on the front porch.   I thought about putting a colored pillow near it for some more color in the frame, but the cob became the center of the photograph.   While it seemed like a picture that was just thrown together, I found a pretty neat story to tell through my camera lens.