Honestly, I don’t like it when people refer to my pets as my kids. They are not kids. Just as an example for those of you who aren’t clear on the concept, you can’t put kids in a cage when you go out for dinner.
No. You can’t. Don’t give me that look.
I’ve spent hours today reloading the operating system on my laptop, backing up all my photos to the new external hard drive we bought (if you take a lot of photos, seriously consider this: it’s such a relief to have them all together!), and updating my blog. Finally caught up with it.
Now we can return to the spontaneous rollicking fun that you were used to before the big tour d’France!
Yeah, I know. I shouldn’t oversell it.
Anyway, the only thing I could think of was to take a shot of Hydra in his new favorite tee shirt with the Artful One in tow.
Thanks everyone for hanging in, and for the nice comments along the way. They are very much appreciated. Just about the time I think I should hang it up, someone says something nice and the old ego rockets to the sky and I’m back behind the camera.
Happy Father’s Day to all you real dads out there. You know who you are.
This squeaky dinosaur has been with me since I worked at UCLA. Since before we moved from the old AGSM to the new Rosenfeld Library at the Anderson School of Management. That’s at least ten years.
His name is Uncle T.
Sometimes the solemnity of a subject requires black and white images. Just a little of the wisdom I’ve picked up since I started this project. No need to applaud.
Remember I told you Braveheart brought the writing group gifts from Iowa? Amongst mine was this amazing 1950s Italian carafe and glasses. I think it’s probably for a liqueur, but that didn’t stop me from using it for red wine.
This is way cooler than what I brought her from France. She’s really good at this.
Oh, and I took her advice and pushed my hair back off my face. I may be done with bangs for a long time again. Since I’ve had a couple of requests to come out from behind the camera lately, I thought I’d give it a shot.
It was interesting looking down the barrel of my own Nikon.
No filters or Photoshopping were used in the creation of this image.
Believe me, I was tempted!
[p.s. Finally went to the doctor this afternoon. Saw an x-ray of my back. Yes, indeed, a small bone that looked like it was in the middle of a vertebrae was knocked a little cockeyed. There’s nothing to do, I guess. Just wait for the soft tissue to heal, which should take another 3-4 weeks. The doc says that we’ll know what the cause of any future pain is. Oh, lovely. In the meantime, it’s a rib belt, occasional pain meds and lightening my load. I think I may need to revert to the handy dandy Kodak instead of the Nikon for health’s sake.]
Sometimes I see these movie location signs, like this one for Sands of Oblivion, and they seem kind of funny to me.
Then, later, I find that it’s the only photo I took that day.
And I’m stuck with it.
And so are you.
A quick check of IMDB.com reveals that we may have been several hundred yards from George Kennedy. But I kind of doubt it.
Ms. B’s shoes in a basket next to the door.
I usually stay the night here after my writing group meets. I had the day off, so we had a nice breakfast before I gathered up all the cuttings and gifties (from her trip to Iowa) and high tailed it for the high desert.
Every day’s a photo-op at Braveheart’s house.
Weird morning. I had a lot of back pain last night, so I took a Flexeril 9 hours before I was supposed to get up. It said to take one every 8 hours, so I thought it would be worn off. Not so.
No way was I driving that loopy, so I turned off the alarm and went in late.
Just late enough to catch a SigAlert on the 14 southbound.
Luckily, I know this sneaky way through the mountains from Sand Canyon to Lakeview Terrace via Little Tujunga Canyon Road. The Wildlife Waystation, to which we’ve contributed both animals and cash, is along this road.
Fifteen miles per hour was way faster than the 14 freeway this morning!
We’ve all been cleaning in and around our desks at work in anticipation of new paint and carpet. Weens found this Frankestein head that Momalisa gave her a couple of years ago.
No, no. It’s not that the goobery eyes are all slack. Look closely at that pupil.