Category: photography

Second time’s the charm

Woo hooo! Ok, today’s Balloon Fiesta was *awesome*! So worth using that crowbar to get my butt out of bed this morning.

Special Shapes Rodeo, yeah baby!

This will be a quick post because I have to pack up all my schtuff and check out of the hotel. Today I’m headed out of the ‘Burque and southbound to Las Cruces.

I can’t wait to hug my two beautiful goddaughters! What a great way to wrap up my trip.

Note to NewMexiKen: The Albuquerque Box was not in effect today. No surprise, eh?

Here’s just a couple photos for Sin Pantalones (I believe you said in comments on Ken’s blog that these are a couple of your faves). I have to sort through the rest to see if there’s anything good in there.

Enjoy!

(Click photo for full size image)

Style tips you can use!

Today, I learned something about how to conduct my life from a most unlikely source.

Real, powerful lessons I look forward to applying as soon as possible.

So this afternoon, I had the honor privilege task of taking The Feline to the vet. She’s having ongoing ear troubles, so back we went to see the same guy who cut the tumor off her little nose last year.

Needless to say, not really her most favorite person.

But our vet is the owner of nine (yes, nine) of his own cats. He’s got a real firm but friendly touch with my cat who prefers it if you’d never actually *touch* her.

As I wrassled that pet down so the good doctor could examine her, I watched how the feline worked.

First, she simply tried to walk away. Vigorously.

When that didn’t work, she began this low-in-the-throat growl. Very menacing. In fact, I’ve never heard her use this growl on anyone BUT the vet. He’s a very kind man, really, and no one else can cause my normally bulletproof pet to make that sound.

So with the long growls and face-finger* looks, we were put on notice.

Next step was to use her paw to push the vet’s hand away. Firmly. No claws, no biting, just firmly shoving with her paw flat against the palm of his hand with all she had.

Finally, when the doctor persisted in looking in her ears, and after trying walking away, growling, and pushing, The Feline went to code red.

Meaning: The cat freaked the f-word out.

The vet, not a petite man by any account, threw hands up in the air, backed right off, and looked a little skeered, actually.

Twelve point one pounds of fury.

Oh yes.

She never had to get violent. No blood was drawn. I think she might have peed the tiniest bit, but not enough to make a mess.

But let me tell you, that animal was no longer messed with. Nope. We both let her be.

In fact, the meaner she got, the kinder the vet became. He started out calling her “big girl” in reference to her heft. (As a “big girl” myself, I was sort of offended on behalf of my pet!)

By the end of the visit, he was calling her “little one” and practically cooing to her in Peruvian.

See, this is good. The smallest, most vulnerable one in the room got her way.

I can learn from this!

First, if you don’t like it, walk away.

If that doesn’t work, get vocal. Make your displeasure known in a firm but not offensive way.

It that doesn’t work, be firmer. Don’t be afraid to physically push the trouble away. No need to be violent, just be direct.

And if you really, truly have to, freak out! Including a little pee, but only if really necessary.

Once the trouble is over, give everyone a face-finger, walk away with tail held high, and loudly demand food the moment you set paws in safe territory.

I can’t wait to try this at my next mammo visit!

Look at her now…all sweetness and light….hmph!

*i.e. a dirty look. As in, giving the finger, but using your face.

Going analog

You know, these tough economic times call for a bit of tightening on the ol’ belt.

Have to go back to the old ways. The simpler ways. The cheaper ways.

So with that, from here on, all my missives will come across in analog form.

That’s right. Sure, it will be a little tougher to shove those bits through that cable and out onto the interwebs.

But in tighter times, we all have to work a little harder. Make more of an effort to get there. Put a little elbow grease into it.

And I’m up to the challenge.

Maybe a little more arm and finger strain. Sure. But back in the day, they never heard of no stinking carpel tunnel syndrome! Nope, you just played through! And you liked it!

Ok, no, actually, this little beauty is the reason I traversed the Bay Bridge a couple days ago. I found this on Craig’s List and got a pretty sweet deal on a barely used Underwood typewriter. The guy selling it was cleaning out the attic, preparing to move. This belonged to his wife’s family, that’s about all he knew.

From my research, I have found that it dates to the 1940’s and is in really great condition. The coolest feature is that the bottom of the case has these fold out legs. Basically, the whole case turns into a little desk, a work surface for “in the field” work.

It’s such an amazing work of engineering.

Why did I buy this boat anchor, you might ask? Well, I had an idea. And if it all works out, you’ll see it all come together in a few weeks. Hopefully anyway.

For now, I’m enjoying the smell and sound of this fully manual machine. It has a great *ding* bell sounds and *zip* back goes the carriage. Yep, it’s fully functional! Some of the keys stick, so I’m looking for a shop that can tune it up.

The rat-a-tat sounds reminds me of, sure, that typing class I told you about last week. But it also calls to mind the sound of my mom working the keys. She had an old Royal (pretty sure it was a Royal) and back in the day, my mom was a professional secretary (administrative assistant) and that woman could type like crazy. 100 wpm, no mistakes.

Anyhow, stay tuned. You may see more of this little beauty!

A love story

A journey through the soul, told in the chosen format of crappy iPhone photos.

Oh coffee. How I love you so. (Yes, I know the cup is empty. It didn’t last long. I slurped that thing through that pretty blue straw and uttered an “aaaaah” when finished.)

Yes, I love you oh so much. Sadly, you don’t love me in return. You leave my stomach acidy, my esophagus crying out for relief and my adrenals asking for a nice day off.

It is a star-crossed love affair. And a fairly one sided love.

Ice cream, oh ice cream! Rich, creamy, frosty, tasty ice cream. How I adore you as you caress my mouth with your sugary creamy goodness.

But as much as I love you, you don’t love me back the same way. You leave me phlegmy. Also, all that sugar doesn’t help my already acidy tummy.

And you always seem to take up residence on my already poochy belly and round hips.

Damn you ice cream, for being so tantalizing and so not good for me!

Cheese! My sweet longtime lover, cheese! You and I go back to the early years. Remember all the grilled cheese sandwiches we shared? Sprinkling you over enchiladas and broiling until bubbly? Remember when I’d just hack off a slice and eat you as you are, because you and I are so simpatico like that?

Truly, you aren’t terrible for me when enjoyed in moderation, but how can I possibly enjoy your delicious goodness in moderation! No, I indulge too much in my love and you join ice cream on my hips.

It’s cruel, cheese, just too cruel. I mean, after all we’ve shared!!

Ah full fat ranch. You tempting, tempting fella. You flirt with me. Wink your little bottled dressing eye and beg me to partake.

Much like cheese, a little occasionally, fine. But who can have a *little* and why occasionally?

But you mock me. You taste so yum and then you turn on me and do mean things!

It’s not right! I love you so much, why can’t you show me a little kindness?

What’s this? Oh, hey lettuce. What are you doing here? Hmm, yeah, uh, nice to see you too.

I have what can certainly be described as kind regards for you. I’m sure you’re a very nice comestible.

You just don’t…turn me on.

But you seem to *adore* me. Oh sure, you treat me so nice, giving me nutrients and not settling on my hips. Providing energy and fiber and you are such a hair parted down the middle, church on Sunday, help little old ladies across the street nice sweet gentle food.

It’s just…I don’t *want* nice!

I want wild! And passionate! And fascinating and rich complex textures!

I want to run with the bad kids and cut class and down twinkies and potato chips and stick my tongue out at “health” experts!

I want….I want…..

Hey, hey good lookin’…..what’s your name? Wanna run around with me and coffee?

Oh, wait, who is that over there? Well hellooooo handsome!

Wanna take a walk on the beach, hand in hand, and watch the sun set? Wouldn’t that be a nice way to spend some time together?

I know I’m flirting…I can’t help it!

Oh wait, what’s this?

Oh crap. That’s not playing fair…

Hellloooooo lover!

Office Archeology: An Update

Each blogger, in the course of their writing and rambling, has one post that they might call their favorite. It may or may not be a fan favorite, but it’s one that sticks out the most in the blogger’s mind.

I have one of those.

Waaaay back, lo’ these many…uh..months ago, I prepared and posted what has become my favorite blog post ever.

Yes, my explorations of this Officine Era, this epoch in my history, the importance of documenting my findings!

And, it can become a living record, because there are some changes…some *updates* to the research and analysis!

My travels have taken me past those relics discussed time and again, and I feel, in the interest of scientific accuracy, it is vital to update the records.

So here we go, the latest understanding of the artifacts, as we know them.

First, recall the lonely and homeless set of keys? Those which secure a laptop from theft, but these, cast mercilessly aside?

Well. They are gone now. Extinct. Disappeared without a forwarding address.

What might have become of these sad, homeless keys? We may never know….

Folks, let’s have a moment in remembrance…

However, all is not bad news! Remember the lowly and lonely industrial strength stapler?

There he was, far from any stapling opportunities. Lost and alone. Unused. Unloved.

But look! He found friends!

Hi Mister Highlighter! Hey Miss Piece of Paper! Welcome to my expanse of file cabinets right outside the conference room. Wanna play flag football?

I’m so happy the stapler was able to make friends. His story doesn’t end tragically, like those keys…

And how about this? Remember that bit o’ Heath bar wrapper that was careless dropped and left abandoned on the stairs for some months?

It’s STILL there! And has adapted camouflage capabilities! It has moved over to the side and has flipped over….behold!

We are seeing evolution in progress, people! Amazing, fascinating stuff.

And, I saved the best for last! We have a new artifact to introduce to the world. It’s amazing. Phenomenal! Fantasmagorical!

Ladies and Gents, I introduce you to…Big Ass Box Of Binder Clips!

This box of clips, located near the broken copy machine that no one uses, and is *SO* important that someone named Jon has demanded we not remove it!

I don’t even know who Jon is or why I would obey him, and yet, I do!

The exclamation mark on his sign coerces me to abide! And so, I don’t remove. Not a one. And neither does anyone else! No one uses these binder clips. So there they sit! Useless and unused! Shiny, taunting, but out of reach.

Damn that Jon and his demanding posted sign!

Ok, well, this is all good stuff. Much to consider. I encourage all to go out and explore their own Officine Surroundings. What you find might surprise you!