For much of my adult life, I was a Grinch when it came to Christmas. One day that changed.
Traditionally, a fish story entails an adventure with the teller at one end of a fishing line and a fish at the other, where the fish grows with the telling or some other outlandish factor comes into play. While I have told one of those, this isn’t that sort of story.
I’m not one to reblog much – there’s just too much good stuff out there and it’s too much like picking favorites. But this one from Robert Parker pushed all my buttons: photography, philosophy, dry commentary and humor. I hope you enjoy it too.
We’d been walking along the shore of Lake Ontario,and stopped to watch the sailboats and drink some water.
A very nice lady saw us fooling with these rocks, and asked if we were professional artists, and if she could photograph our “stone stacking.”
It almost seemed like she was serious, so I told her, we artists prefer our creations to be called “Cobble Assemblages”. And that we’re novices, from the Spiral Jetty School, working our way up to pyramids and standing stone circles. No money is required to view them, but an offering of fresh fruit is appreciated.
We’ve run across them in stream beds, woods, parks, even on the berms near shopping malls.
Sometimes there are so many, it appears a Neolithic cult is out there in the woods.
What is the point of…
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We’ve all heard about the 1 percenters, usually in a less than flattering way. The richest 1% hold 50% of the world’s wealth, and most have no interest in sharing it. Greedy bastards. But let’s be honest, wouldn’t you like to be part of the 1 percent, even for a day? I had that chance, last Monday.
It’s so hot… farmers are feeding their chickens crushed ice to keep them from laying hard-boiled eggs!
It’s so hot… I saw two trees fighting over a dog!
What do you do when it’s so hot that you wear your wrinkled clothes outside to use nature’s ironing board, but you still need to cook up dinner?
Continue reading “How Hot Is It?”
100 posts. Somehow, despite the snail-like pace at which I write, this will be my 100th little essay, my 100th excuse to share a picture or 10, my 100th effort to pitch content against the wall of the blogosphere to see what sticks. What have I learned after all that rigmarole?
Some folks can sit down and look at a subject, put pencil to paper, and draw an amazing likeness. Others can set paint to canvas and create a work of art that intrigues or inspires the onlooker.
I am not one of those people.
I’m not in the habit of taking on challenges from other bloggers, be it photography or writing. But Greg over at Almost Iowa has put out a challenge to write about “My Stuff“, something he’s been doing with great success for years, and I couldn’t resist. Greg puts a new spin on homespun humor and wisdom, check him out.
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The rich aroma of brewing malt and hops filled my nose, the house, and possibly the neighborhood as I peered into the bubbling cauldron of my brew kettle. A dark, chocolaty concoction for a batch of Porter boiled away, both a visual and olfactory delight, suggesting the rich flavors that in due time would greet the tongue.
Some guys get their jollies from new power tools. Others, from a new set of golf clubs or a drone to fly around the neighborhood. We all, with any luck, have interests outside of putting food on the table and paying the bills, and often those interests have “toys” that support them.
Beep, beep, beep, boop! The countdown at the starting gate sounded its tones and the two skiers pushed off, trying to get up to speed before swinging into the slalom gates. I was one of them.