Bake
We have binge watched the Great British Baking Show. It’s sad to see amateur bakers criticized for mistakes they make under the pressure of an audience and the judges. But, it did teach me some things about improvising. We recently had outdated whipped cream that had been frozen. Nope, it’s butter. Toss it. And then, I was making meringue cookies. The egg whites did not whip up. What to do? Quick, add some flour and cocoa powder – sponge, jelly roll cake. Fresh whipped cream, ha ha. And there was enough cream for the Atlantic pie – a lemon curd, (saltine) cracker crust pie. A happy ending! So, I have advanced my baking skill by becoming less intimidated that everything must be precise and measured in baking. There are limits to be tested. How about that? A jelly roll cake!
You been Jane-ed
I won’t say how she’s related – to protect the innocent. I do believe Jene is a picnic shy of a sandwich. She is on the Washington Post website. She messaged, her app did not allow her to sign in. What App? It’s just a site. What App? And then, she messaged, “What do I do?” Jane reads. She’s high functioning and intelligent. Oh! I spy! Upper right hand corner – “Sign in.” or in the worst case scenario – “Subscribe.” It ain’t rocket science. And, you are wrong if you think it is Jane in the middle (of the picture). We don’t hear any complaint from Lee. (Shhh, Colleen does not like Lee better.) The headline? Jane lives in West Virginia. Sorry.
Namesake
Peas – please may I have another. Ha ha! At least she gave me the perfect pose and made me smile. My cats do not work on command. I would be a dismal failure as a lion tamer. It’s good that all I got is a kitten to contend with. And yes, she always gets another.
Cat eyes
Arresting! A proper photo exposure can stop you in your tracks. Black cats require more exposure adjustment. I suppose I will be using more flash than less with Tillie. I continue to learn and improve. As any other work in progress, you learn, and then build upon what you know. Better? yes, than ever. I hope Tillie makes it through probation. She remains a crazy cat. Right side up, or, upside down, at least, I can say I am a better photographer.
Expected
Boring. The news is redundant. What did you expect? The Afghans would make a stand – like the Alamo?
Another day, another mass shooting. This past weekend there were multiple mass shootings. I did not see any reported. There is a level of death count and heinous standard that must be met before it is in the news? Like a scorecard I scan for the “death count.” It seems the shooter also must be among the dead. And, shhhh! All the neighbors knew he would do it one day!
Food? All these recipes and nothing to eat. Boring. Not a thing is appetizing tantalizingly making me hungry. It’s a mish mash of ingredients pushed together a la Food Channel. Colorful “throw-up? Nope, not for me.
Congress, as usual, is in stalemate. Finger wagging and tut tut amounts to stagnation once more. “Filibuster” this filibuster that!
45? He’s still alive? Relevant? There was nothing on the grand jury in the NYT. Some intrepid NYT reporter was not first with the scoop, so, the WaPo runs with the story and MSNBC has hour after hour of gossip speculation on “IT!”
“We (will) know a trial is close when the courtroom sketch artist goes to Michaels and says, ‘Give me all the orange crayons you have.’” — JIMMY FALLON
Redundant
This is a goofy family pic of the three brothers. There are few enough – pictures. It was a coincidental habit to buy each other the same Xmas presents. Brilliant minds think alike? This was the year of the (trench) coat. It turns out that each of us got a coat. Brilliant? This was not random. We repeated with other gifts in other years nearly a perfect record for many years. I wish we had had a “Mercedes year.” Alas, no. But, today, one more birthday. Happy! This one is unforgettable. Eric was born on the last day of school when I was in the third grade. Third grade was memorable for other reasons too. It was the year I met Colleen for the first time. Yes, (as Frank Sinatra sang), it was a very good year.
My bad
street photography | Definition, History, Types, & Facts …https://www.britannica.com › Visual Arts › PhotographyStreet photography, a genre of photography that records everyday life in a public place. The very publicness of the setting enables the photographer to take candid pictures of strangers, often without their knowledge.
As a street photographer, the obvious thing in your possession is your camera. … In New South Wales you are not under a legal obligation to explain or justify your photographic activities or to answer any questions, even if the police arrest you.
Perfect spring day. Happy ending in Krazy Cat restaurant. This is the famous March Bank at the DuPont estate Winterthur. March Bank? Henry DuPont created a natural garden that blooms with millions of bulbs in the spring – timed, wave after wave of flowers bloom in the most tranquil setting. Wandering the beauty, we came upon a painter. I got a couple shots. I was speculating whether she was a man or a fat woman. Her sharp glance and admonition were, to “not” take her picture. It’s street photography in a public space. Sorry to say: her painting was not very good. So, I guess, she had good reason to be shy. Nonetheless, we had a standoff. I never argue. I just did not take another.
Now, the March Bank. I shot around 1500 images. Yeah, nuts! The first-round edit was disappointing. Not a single standout shot. I think I may be too harsh a critic of my work. Second glance – it was not so bad. It’s a fine line between average and good. Sometimes a little (time) distance helps.
Street photography – it’s legal. Confrontation is never comfortable. For me, it remains a challenge.
Krazy Cat
Colleen loves to eat out – as in – we live to eat. Restaurants are a fun experience. Mostly… Sometimes, you get a dud. But, on this occasion, we got a fun experience. Colleen was worried. She’d made the reservation. So, a lot depended on her choice. To her delight, I was very happy with her choice. Of course, I love her dearly, and, I love to eat out in a different restaurant. Success! Amuse bouche! It’s a classy prelude to dinner. It is a complementary touch to the meal. I digress. The restaurant name is Krazy Cat. My mask (made by Colleen) had a cat face. Cats were dispersed around the restaurant. We had a great time. Colleen made a great choice. But, more than anything else, I was enjoying a moment with the one I love.
Tolerant
My cats are very tolerant. (If) There are no other subjects at hand. Cat portraiture, it is. Spring is here. Soon, I will plant the flowers. And then, we can begin flower pictures again. Meanwhile, I do not have a grandchild in sight. So, cats it is. Tolerance is a plus. And yes, it is still hard to photograph a black cat. I got the eyes. There is not much detail in the black fur. The sister has dark patches. You do see detail in the whiskers. None of the grandkids have whiskers. I continue to work the eyes. Focus on the eyes and you have a picture. Have a camera at hand or you miss those fleeting moments.
I did it again
Would you believe this? It’s not as good as the last one I got. It’s unexpected (again). Twice? Bird in flight! Neat! Yes, this is not the first time you have seen a bird in flight. There are many more pics of birds in flight and many better than mine. But this is my shot. It’s rare; it ain’t easy to get; and I was lucky enough to do it twice. Well, I can recall others I have shot. But this is still hard to do, and rare. I could say it was all intentional and the shutter speed was set to get the wings in a blur…. but, no, it was just luck. Struck by lightning – twice!
Weaver kitty
There is a term Colleen uses: “Weaver kitty.” It refers to the training of a cat to refrain from tearing her spinning and weaving to pieces. The natural inclination of a cat or kitten, is to play with the yarn. The moving ends are too tempting. A cat’s gotta learn. When they do (learn), everyone’s happy. So far so good….
Work in progress
Black cat?! It ain’t easy to get a pic. I got the eyes! Flash, it helps. I got the eyes; the fur? Now, to get the whole cat. It is, at best, a challenge. I suppose it’s good to show some failures. How else do you learn and improve? A lot of what I learn is by seeing a good pic and then copying the technique. It’s a lot like cooking. Taste it; like it; try to recreate it; make it your own. Much of what we do is to build on the knowledge of those who came before us. I’m ok with that.
Private
If you follow my blog, or if you have come across this posting randomly – I am a private person. It will not be obvious. It is obvious. I vacillate. I rarely showed the world my “self.” There was a semester in freshman English, I simply poured out my “feelings” in my composition. My instructor (Miss Hesney) pointed it out; whereupon, I retreated never to write like that again till… I reconnected with Colleen. Since then, Colleen has known my heart as no other. I was in Saudi; she in West Virginia; we wrote; I wooed: writing was my seduction. It is/was private. And, the rest of the world sees what I reveal in the humor that plays around in my posts. There are clear glimpses of the depth of my “feelings” in more recent posts. It peeks out in word and picture. I met Colleen again in 2014. But it was not until 2019, that I introduced her as a character in this blog. Why? I was afraid it might screw up my divorce. My first wife does not (probably, never has) read my blog. And, no doubt I did love Lisa, fiercely at times. (Sorry, Colleen.) … I have plenty of thought and many regrets and there is much I would do differently. It has also been a good life with much to be thankful. If I had but known Coleen would be the light of my life, events could have unfolded so much simpler with less pain to all. Or, is it fate, that to appreciate love, I suffered a life long search for happiness. The guilt I feel is for those I have hurt along the way. My happiness is purely selfish in that I found Colleen and there is a happy ending for me/us. (Yes, I am adept. My English skill is good. My paragraphs run on because they are one thought. I dislike that paragraphs in these post are separated by large spaces. So I run on. Yes, guilty – run on thoughts, run on paragraphs…
Fitted
Peas has come into the house and fit right in. Her sister Tillie has had all sorts of problems. Am I complaining? Lamenting? Colleen got this shot as I snoozed. Peas did the exact right thing to ensure she has a place at the table. She (this picture) is exactly the reason why we needed another cat.
“And in the end, the love you get is equal to the love you give.” Paul McCartney – “The End”
Trouble in paradise
Tillie is back on double double secret probation. She had a “hissy” and scratched me up good. Meanwhile, Peas is a cow eating my grass. Colleen thinks grass is good for cats. And she thinks Tillie is a “fraidy cat.” Maybe, (my wife is always right), Tillie got spooked when I started to carry her? She’s docile and timid this morning. I’m still scratching (pun) my head to figure, do I have a psycho cat? Aha! I might change her name to “PC.” Alas, that would be to close to “Peas.” The wound? It was superficial and looks worse than it feels.
Note: I post in advance. So, to make this – not – a cliffhanger, Tillie has recovered. My wounds are healing. Tillie has a sweet disposition unless you get her riled. My bad. We are communicating. I thought I spoke cat. I don’t. My skin is healing. My relationship with Tillie is mending. It’s all good… so far. And yes, that’s rain on the window.
Note note: Current – the scar is permanent on my wrist – a reminder. The sisters – Maine coon cats, female, and large – have decided to pick on and attack Peas, randomly, consistently, and with malice. Why can’t we all get along? … because I cannot help but kick the can.
Together
Would you believe it? When Peas arrived she was welcomed by Tillie in the most hideous manner of hisses and growls. We think we have figured out that Tillie is afraid and insecure. Typical me; dense; Colleen is so much more empathic. It has been days… but for the first time – progress! Today the other cats got to meet the new little ones we now call “the Kids.” Tillie tore up the stairs screeching bloody murder when she encountered a spinning wheel and an old typewriter. Colleen is shaking/scratching her head over this one. Me? I’m glad anyone is talking to me. I started this. So far, no one is mad at me.
Luck
How lucky can you be? Sometimes, I think I close my eyes, press the shutter, and hope for the best. It works sometimes. Hey hey! Even a blind squirrel gets a nut – sometimes. Our squirrel is back, but, that’s another story. And what do you know?! I got the cardinal in flight – and in focus! That is terrific in my book! I’m tickled even if you have seen birds in flight before. It ain’t easy! And, to be honest, I was pressing the shutter as he took flight. Pure luck!
Black
I said a black cat is hard to photograph. I have few good pics of my black dog, Reggie. Maybe, I wasn’t very good. Interestingly, if you are too good, you can see the dust in Tillie’s hair. Or, dandruff, whatever! But I get it. Eyes, it’s all in the eyes. You get the eyes and the picture pops. Black, against a white background, helps in this instance. This time around I think I am up for a challenge.
Out for a stroll
We let the new kittens out of the bathroom for a stroll in the big house. They found our bed – perhaps our smell – and made themselves comfortable. The lighting is good. I need a reflection in their eyes and the big window gives great indirect light. I bet you don’t care. Peas is not a pretty cat. At least that’s my opinion. Colleen has seen many more cats and I am overruled. My first naming was Butt – as in butt ugly. Don’t laugh; it’s part of the reason I ignored her in the pet store. But Peas has the sweetest personality. She is the quintessential embodiment that beauty is skin (fur) deep. When I first picked her up, it was about a second later, she melted my heart.
Jumbled
I’m spinning the photo catalog today. Originally, I had intended to publish one picture a day of “ooh and ah!” quality along with a story. Lately, it’s been about the stories triggered by the images. Technically, it still fits the title of the blog, but we are a long way off. I’ve been on a lot of planes. The middle top pic is instantly recognizable. Colleen hates to fly. She goes because she does not trust me alone? ?? Dunno? Ha! The first thing we did upon arrival was seek a vegetarian restaurant. It’s very appetizing – if you’re a rabbit. And she got a bottle of organic beer. Isn’t all that beer vegetarian and organic to begin with? I think maybe I would have rather been in the pakora place next door. But, it is now revealed Colleen doesn’t care for Indian. Damn, so far and yet so close. Figuratively, literally, you do the math and take your pick of the choices here in my words. The truth: We have fun. Anywhere is good as long as I’m with Colleen. Happiness is…
Did you ever?
… eat in a restaurant called Ketchup? Would you? We did. It was in Jeddah. Why? The name, of course. It was a Middle Eastern restaurant. Of course, it was. Good? I have no recollection. So, I guess, forgettable.
… eat, deep fried kale? Preserve, Annapolis. It was a restaurant recommendation at another store. Spectacular! And messy! I tried it at home. Kale splatters oil all over the place. It is the quintessential poster child for “Don’t try this at home!” Good? Spectacular! Have we been back? No, it is, alas, (it’s) bad for you. But boy oh boy, was it good!
Photographic memory
The inbox is full. I anchor memories to pictures. Or, is the converse positive? I spin the photo catalog and randomly land upon an image. What? Huh? A couple shots to the right or to the left….aha! Now I remember! It’s funny that way. Colleen has much more difficulty. We were… somewhere, and then I show her the picture and it becomes fact. It’s not a clear memory. But for me, much of what I remember is from images. Or, is it the converse? The trigger? It was the Christmas tree advent calendar in the middle top. I remember Colleen admired it. We even went and bought felt to make one ourselves… we still have pieces of felt around the house.
Belonging
I belong to Feather. It started in the pet store when her paw snaked out and grabbed me as we walked past. She was going home with me and was simply being emphatic about it. Since then, she hangs out with me wherever I am in the house. She follows me to be sure of where I am. She will come and snuggle up on me when I nap. Clearly, I belong to her. I am her human. It’s important to belong. I belong to her. Ha ha. Confused? That is Colleen hugging Feather’s twin, Spice.
Pigeon?
Ok I’ve lost it. Is this really worth a post? Pigeons? If you live in New York City… There are so many better things to speak of and to illustrate. Pigeons in the country? They were out of place on the roof with the solar panels. Suburbia! Pigeon? They were out of place in my neighborhood and Colleen exclaimed when she saw them sauntering on the roof next door. Lost, they were far from home. Fly away.
photobackstory 