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Showing posts with label Photo Friday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Photo Friday. Show all posts

Friday

Photo Friday - Preparing for Christmas / or Seasonal celebrations.




The Christmas tree is up and decorated. 
Everything is in it's place. Everything is ready and waiting. 
We are now guarding the stocking for when Santa gets here.
He can fill it  up with catnip toys, jingle balls, tuna fish treats, and perhaps a mousie or two. 
What do you think?



Just a few more days left. No hurry, Santa. I will still be right here when you arrive!
 

Photo Friday - Patterned View





  
Something I saw in the hardware store.





Florist shop warehouse ceiling. 




Pleated lamp shade while light is on.

 

Odd plastic lampshade from inside looking toward center





Photo Friday: Thanksgiving (photo that shows what it means to you)


I had a very difficult time coming up with a photo representing what Thanksgiving means to me. I've spent days asking myself the question. I know what it used to mean to me, and I have written about that in the past two days.

The other day I watched a program giving the history of Thanksgiving.... very very different than what schoolchildren are taught it is meant to be, and I presume not many adults know the real story behind it, either.

I like the idea of people gathering together to share their gratitude for the abundance in their lives. But, I also don't like the idea much that it should be held just one day a year. Perhaps life just passes us by so quickly that the moment arrives and leaves before we can say, thank you for that, friend.


I'm so full of gratitude that I am even alive that every breath is a blessing, and everything after that is like, WOW! including the bad stuff. For without the bad stuff, how easily we would forget to enjoy the ordinary. It's not like I go around life smiling from ear to ear. My mind knows this stuff the way I know how to spell my name. But, do I go around "feeling" my name as something to appreciate all the time? No. So even though I know how lucky I am, I am still much like anyone else when it comes to having feelings that are not always filled with thankfulness and joy.

I thought and thought about what does Thanksgiving mean to me. I wondered what picture I might have to represent it. Nothing would come to mind. I examined why. I rolled it around in my head. Thanksgiving means nothing to me at the moment. But why?  All the things it meant to me in the past, no longer apply.

And then, it dawned on me. This has been a very painful year. People I love have died.

Am I thankful they are dead? NO!
Am I filled with gratitude that they've gone on to heaven? NO!
Because they are not here with me.
No, I'm not glad they've gone on to heaven.
GOD! GIVE THEM BACK!

I ain't got no gratitude.

I can feel my Sunday school teacher waggling her finger at me right now, "Shame, shame for talking to God like that."

Yes, I am grateful they are no longer suffering. But, I am not thankful that it was only this one way that stopped their suffering.

Okay, so this isn't a cheerful posting. A thoughtful one maybe. A truthful one because these are my exact feelings.

But, definitely a hopeful one.

I am thankful that my son-in-law was accidentally diagnosed with Thyroid Cancer.
I am thankful that it is one of the "easy" kinds of Thyroid Cancer. The kind that has the very highest survival rate. Where have I heard that before? Okay, I'm not all that thankful. I'm thankful with an underlying uneasiness.
I am thankful for my daughter's knowledge and education which caused her to withdraw her husband from the scheduled surgical procedure to be done at their local well-meaning doctor and hospital.
I am thankful that she has the chutzpah to contact City of Hope, a prestigious cancer hospital, of finagle an appointment right away for her husband. He was scheduled to have his thyroid removed yesterday.

This year my daughter will not have thanksgiving
My grandkids will not have thanksgiving.
My great grandkids will not have thanksgiving.
Who would cook the turkey? Not me, I'm a seven hour drive from where they live and even if I got there, I wouldn't have the ability to put together a splendid meal. And who would eat it, anyways? Not my son-in-law, not my daughter, not my five grandkids. Of the four great grandkids, perhaps two are young enough that they would be able to enjoy it. Scott's mother is going to be by his side, along with his brothers and step-mother. They wont be cooking, nor eating much but a sandwich or whatever they can grab it at the hospital.

Thanksgiving has been put on hold this year. I think we will all be holding our collective breath until next year when he has recovered from surgery and had his radioactive iodine isotope treatments.

Still I am thankful that my daughter has such a wonderful man for a husband, that my grandkids have a great daddy and my great grandkids have a wonderful grandpa!



Photo Friday - Photo Art


Jessie was 14 when she had her first surgery for a benign bone tumor condition called osteochondromatosis.
She had several surgeries yearly after that, losing her tibia in one of them.
I met her when a number of friends from the MHE support group decided to meet and spend a week together. Jessie died of complications of her last surgery with a blood clot to her heart. This is her pretty smiling face from that time we met, and I must wanted to create something beautiful for her mother.



This was my Mother's cat, BooBoo who came to live with me whilst Mother went to live in a Nursing home.
BooBoo had the sweetest personality. One day I snapped her picture and something told me she had a firey wild self to her, so I put her picture in Photoshop, and worked on it until BooBoo was satisfied!

Photo Friday - Guy Fawkes Day



 Dear Reader,

Please be kind to one so ignorant.

I had heard of Guy Fawkes day as a child, but only know it was associated with the bonefires some folks here would light on Halloween night. Apparently a very old tradition, which was quickly dying out. I had been told they were fires symbolic of burning witches. In my child's mind I thought that was a good thing. Bad enough that witches were allowed to roam around on Halloween. Good thing they had the fires to get rid of them. I was very young at the time.

Since Guy Fawkes day was suggested for photo Friday, I decided to learn more about this British holiday. Is it a holiday? Doesn't holiday connotate holy day? It seems Guy Fawkes was considered to be somewhat un-holy, almost devilish. So, perhaps the word is celebration. I can't figure out how this man who was supposed to be the enemy came to have such a permanent and feted place in history. I must be reading it all wrong, and quite oblivious of what it all about.

But, then, I can imagine how others may view some of the festivities held here in America. The real history of Thanksgiving, for example, is very different from what I was taught as a child. The pilgrims did not get together with the natives to have a grand harvest meal in gratitude to God for bringing them together. Columbus day is a ruse, but children still get that day off from school, and banks are closed in observance. A lot of Native-Americans protest that Columbus day should not be recognized at all, as it commemorates the beginning of the loss (rape) of their people and land.

Bonfires are very much celebrated by young people here in the U.S. in a whole different way. It's called Burning Man. It is a week long festival culminating in the burning of the man. It ends the day before Labor Day, another American Holiday which I don't understand.

It is called Burning Man because a 40 foot tall effigy of a man is set on fire with as much pyrotechnics as possible every year. This is a very pagan type of festival and last year had about 40,000 attendees. Those who celebrate go off into the most barren part of the desert, the only land where they can do this without causing havoc to the rest of society.

It is now against the law to have bonfires in most states, burning of leaves or farm field debris, without a license to do so. Permission and knowledge of the burn date is coordinated with the local weather outlook. Sometimes these well planned burn dates go tragically wrong. Weather changes, wind and fires get out of control. Acres and acres of dry brittle brush and trees burn. Wildfires we call them. Forest fires when the true forests are involved.



So, the closest thing I can do to present photos symbolic of Guy Fawkes day is to share a pictures taken at Burning Man Celebration. I hope my extrapolation has not been too extreme.

Photo Friday - Halloween

HALLOWEEN TRICK OR TREAT

My grand doggie, Martin, an Alaskan Husky dresses up for Halloween.
He doesn't look too happy about it, now, does he?

My daughter and my great grand doggie, Spike, in his Halloween pumpkin costume. Spike just loves to dress up! He's all about style!


My great granddaughter in her ghostly make up and outfit.
It sure makes her look much more scary with those front teeth missing. Little Miss Dracula, shall we say?


My Granddaughter, and great grand daughter in a quiet moment.




Just one more look at Halloween!
This is my old room mate and her cat.
Can you guess why she's not my room mate anymore?

Photo Friday




I was raised in Niagara Falls, New York... the honeymoon city. A definite change of the seasons can be observed, and autumn was my favorite. We used to collect the best specimens close them into a book to flatten and dry them, and slip them into a pot of paraffin wax to preserve them. That way we could have autumn all winter. But, they did make a splendid display when thrown into the fireplace on a cold winter evening. One at a time, of course.

Now I live 3,000 miles away on the coast of California, near the Monterey Bay. Autumn here is a plethora of seasonal incongruities.The lemon tree in my back yard is dripping with fruit. Lemonade anyone?

Due to the lack of sugar maples, oaks and other kinds of deciduous trees that require very low temperatures this time of year, the bright flaming colors of autumn change from a verdant green to brown overnight, sometimes remaining on the bows through winter. Then other trees, like the California Oak and the Red Madrone keep their leaves all year round. the only brightly colored leaves I can observe, are on display in stores. Buy now, before winter gets here! Only 25% off!!!

Palm trees are much more abundant in Southern California, but they still manage to survive further north. They get a little ragged this time of year, but they do not drop their leaves... er, fronds? As the years go by the lowest level of fronds will dry out and lay down upon the trunk. If they are not trimmed. They can get many layers of dead fronds which harbor hosts of birds and their ecosystems. This picture shows a close up of a palm tree with it's fruit, or I should say nuts, as they fall on the ground like acorns and have the same nutty hard appearance as acorns. In the springtime, the tree flowers heavily, but are not noticed unless you look "between the lines".

It doesn't rain all summer long, so things can get pretty dry, fields and hillsides all appear to be a gold velvet if observed from a distance, if you are further inland. However since I am coastal, there is usually sufficient moisture in the fog to keep things a bit greener locally. Still, compared to some coastal areas, we cannot keep our yards or gardens green without watering through the summer unless we have native plants growing. At this time of year I am able to have autumn Japanese chrysanthemums as well as spring bulbs beginning to pop up. Definitely not autumn in New York.

We just had our very first, and early, rain of the season. The fall of 1980 I moved here and was surprised when I went down to the beach the day after a storm.


All the branches and logs that had dried, broken or burned from up in the mountains the summer before had washed down the creeks and rivers ending up out in the ocean and then were washed back to shore.


I expected to see driftwood, but not mountains of it! And I never expected to see the primeval drive of the human need to create something out of it all.


I've seen drawings of the Native Americans who once lived in this region. Their wickiups (homes) strongly resemble the "art" that today's local California natives create.

Photo Friday

I live in Watsonville California. Though there may be others, it is called the strawberry capitol of the world. I can understand why. Even though it is a city, it is surrounded by strawberry fields right up to the city limits, and in some cases right into the city. The population is about 50,000.

Because Watsonville was basically agrarian, the town grew up inside the fields. In order to get into or out of town, one must drive past the fields. There's no getting around it. Well, unless you want to go through the forested areas.

As you exit beautiful Highway 1 to come into town, the first view you see is the fields on the right (and left). In the picture, the field is fallow. If you look in the background you can see how the fields abut to the homes and apartments.



Strawberries are planted nearly year round, so you are likely to see one field ripe with fruit and the one next to it just begining to grow. The picture below is a fully planted Strawberry field waiting to fruit. This little dirt road will take you somewhere into the middle of the strawberry fields (on the left). That is the Mount Diablo range in the background, but known to locals as Mount Madonna.



There are two other exits from Highway 1, but the rest of the roads that leave town are more pleasant to ride along, and I often take a detour on one of those old roads. This road will take you up into the mountains and forest.





Since Watsonville is a city in the midst of rurality, some other surrounding areas include forested lands. Every year the dangers of forest fires often threaten our existence. The picture below is of Casserly Road. The trees are no longer there, as they burned a year ago in a fire that went right up to the edge of town, next to the hospital.



















This lovely Monterey tree lined road takes you out to the beach.




















I had to show the railroad tracks because all those strawberries have to get out of town on their own special transportation. Watsonville strawberries are shipped all over the world. That's the overpass of Highway 1 in the central background.

Photo Friday


He posed very nicely for me compared to his friends who flew away not wanting their picture taken!