Betty is our home’s second oldest cat. I rescued her from work where she appeared, starving. She lived in a massive oak. To this day, she likes to be up high. This ledge leading into the kitchen is one of her favorite places to keep an eye on her kingdom.
Saturday, My buddy friend and I spent the day in Cincinnati. First stop was the Museum Center where we saw a show of original Star Wars costumes. Second stop was lunch and last, but for me the best, was a stop at the Cincinnati Art Museum. Highlight of that stop was an art installation by artist Anila Quayyum Agha named All the Flowers Are for Me.
The immersive artwork was spectacular to see in person. For me, she took a simple concept, a light bulb placed in a suspended steel cube and and turned it into an amazing piece of art.
To give you a better understanding of the cube’s size, I’ve included a photo of Jim getting ready to take a photo of his own.
I found this lovely quilt while visiting the Columbus Museum of Art last May. It’s been hanging out in Lightroom waiting for an excuse to bring it out. I just needed something colorful. Is that a good enough excuse?
Have a great week, folks.
Driving home from a long day trip to Cleveland when I saw this storm hovering over the field streaming by my window. The sun was setting and lighting up the field and trees, making for some wonderful light and contrasts.
Late summer farm lunches make up some of my favorite memories. Baked beans, fresh greens and vegetables, water melon, pork, and sometimes cake, pie or cookies. The farmer and the hands come in from the fields and the barns to wash up. They’re tired and hungry, but intent on getting to the table.
Chairs and benches scrape the floor and bowls are passed clockwise around the table. At first, there isn’t much talking as they begin to shovel in everything they can get their hands on. But, eventually they slow down and begin to talk. Mostly they tell stories that inevitably lead to laughter and then more stories intended to top the last one. I’m sure there is some truth in each story, but I’m never sure how much to believe. That’s ok. I like the laughter and the good hearted ribbing. The tall tales are the means to a light hearted end.
You’d like these people and you’d enjoy being there. You’d be honored to sit with them and eat their food. Not many people receive an invitation.
Just leave me bit of that cobbler. Yeah, the blackberry. Is that cream? I’ll take some of that too. No thank you, I’ll get my own tea from the pitcher. Would you like me to top you off?
Once again, I spent New Year’s Eve at the ball in South Charleston, OH. Once again I struggled to focus and capture motion in the dim light. And, once again, I had a wonderful time.
New this year, I managed to stay up til after midnight and toasted 2017 with champagne. Though dancing took it’s toll on some, everyone was up at the stroke of twelve to dance some more.
If you are lucky and didn’t turn out to be a terrible parent, you are rewarded by having a kid that will grow up into a fantastic adult. My son, Josh, is a perfect example. I am very proud of him and the person he has become. He is kind, generous, thoughtful, adventurous, fearless (except for that heights thing), and for all of you young ladies out there, he is single as well.
For me, the best part is that he is wonderful to be around. We might be just hanging out, eating lunch at Willy’s, or out for a day of shooting. He is a good conversationalist and is comfortable talking to people.
Yeah, I am really proud of him.
The first step in canning asparagus is the welcoming smile.
Followed by the reading of the recepie.
Then more smiling.
More recipie reading.
Then some waiting for everything to finish boiling and cooking.
Finally, you stuff the pickled asparagus into the jars. Then back into the boiling water for a bit.
I hope you found this step by step process to be helpful because I am a helpful kind of guy.
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| The red socks made me do it. |
tim mcmurdo 