the 11th of the fifth of the 12th

ONCE UPON A TIME

In Virginia along rural road 175 east, there used to be a old waterman who kept his boat right along the road's edge.  The boat was in reasonably good shape but the dock, if you could call it that, was in great need of repair.  The entire package reminded me of.....

  "This is my business and I am doing my best"!

 There was no place to park a car along the busy two lane causeway and I am not sure how the owner commuted each day to and from his boat and job.  I do know how I backed up tourist traffic to take the photograph.  After years of passing by, I just had to bite the bullet and pull over to snap a few quick images.

I am not sure that strong work ethic is much around anymore.  I know the boat and dock has gone the way of most relics.  But the independent attitude of doing hard work and scraping out a living from your surroundings may be gone.  While there are still family farms in this country, the big corporate farms make the most money.  And even if you are successful at your small business, the state, federal and local taxes eat much of the profits.  EPA, in my mind an illegal organization, controls most of the way we do or are not allowed to do business anymore.  Mom and Pop shops struggle just to pay rent to landlords with delusions of grander.

And so it is, when I see the remains of a man's life, I am struck by the struggle.  I am struck by the independence which made this great country.  And I am struck by the dwindling numbers of folks who depended upon that independence and the hard work.  They are the one who created the world's greatest country.  The World's greatest economy.  They are the givers and not the takers.

The 10th of the fifth

UPDATE

Remember to double click the photos for better resolution and click on the highlighted words for the FAA link.

Well, the black cat has left the building.  Apparently along with Elvis.  We had the Animal Control people stop by to check the animal and it seems it was in great shape, good fine coat, not sick and more importantly not feral nor pregnant.  Just scared to death for some reason.  It decided all on it's own to leave the garage and go somewhere.....hopefully to it's home.  We had two calls asking questions but no one laying claim to the beast.  All's well that ends well, I guess.

The Victory garden is going just fine despite potential rulings from Washington, DC regarding the legality of growing vegetables in a small urban garden to sustain the body and soul during hard economic and political times.  I am sure that somewhere in the Dept. of Agriculture or Health and Human Services, there is a rule saying that we cannot have our own gardens.  If it isn't there, it's coming.  It's my bounty and keep your grubby hands and taxes off it!

I will be making a short trip north during the first ten days of June for the graduation of my first grand daughter from high school.  I didn't realize that I was that old yet.  This is a pretty special young lady who will all too soon be off to college in New England, embarking on a whole new life.  I wish here all the luck in the world and pray that God looks over her as she furthers her education.  The objective of course is to become smarter than her parents and grand parents.  I think that she already has that one met re: her grandfather.

We had a nice rainy day yesterday and everything looks green and clean this morning.  Little cooler too, so some outdoor chores may have to be done.  Feeders are full and the birds are happy.  The perpetual squirrel hunt continues with a few of their backsides stung with BB's.  Seems all they learn is to run when the door opens and don't associate pain with being on the bird feeder.  Just when the door opens.  Hard to get anything but a running shot.  Of course the dog wants to go first, and that screws up the hunt as well.  Good practice for when the Federal Reserve tells us we all need to eat squirrel stew.  Tastes just like bad Chinese take out.  Comic relief anyway. 

The 8th of the fifth

The Art of Looking!

My early professional life, and some would say the only productive part of that life, was spent in greater downtown and mid-town New York City.  Some twenty five years.

There it was  I developed the "Art of Looking".

  Hey, if you can't find it in the Big Apple it just doesn't exist.  I remember the first time we took our son to see the town.  First thing he saw was a guy sleeping in rags on a subway grate.  It was warm there.  My son just could not reason why this man was laying on the sidewalk asleep.  It was one of the first teaching opportunities I had with him.  "Ya wanna end up like that guy on the sidewalk?  So do your homework already!"

I would spend my lunch hours just wandering the streets and looking.  "People watching" we used to call it.
  Like talking with hookers just to see how low a price you could weasel.  Just talking!

 Just to perfect the art of negotiation.

It is amazing what goes on in a big city, or small for that matter if you look hard enough.  Unfortunately all this was before I even picked up a camera.  I also have always had a problem taking candid shots of people out on the streets.  Invasion of their privacy type of thing and it makes me nervous.  Would not have made a good Paparazzi.  But occasionally we run over some stuff that makes some sense in a urban setting sort of way.

It doesn't matter if the location be New York or a vacation or tourist town, like Camden, Maine or a small village on the Eastern shore of Maryland.

Medium cities like Charlotte, NC offer all sorts of opportunities for the eye.

And of course New York and Chicago size cities are just mecca for the "Eyes wide open" type.

I guess I have been lucky.  Been a lot of places and seen a lot of things.  All I have to do is remember to stop, look and listen.  Even so, sometimes wondrous things are found in my own own back yard.

I relate the story about the photographer in upstate New York at an art fair.  Had some of the most fantastic photographic prints of storms out over the great plains.  I was mesmerized!  And like most amateurs, I asked the worn old question we photographers always get...."How did you do that"?

Boy did he simplify my life with his answer.

"Simple.  You had to be there"!

And now I would add.  "With eyes wide open"!

The 7th of the 5th

OH NO!

As most of my readers are very astute and have great memories, it will come to no one's surprise when I say that I live in a kennel.  Or a facsimile of such.  Two dogs and two birds.........is enough.

Well, we have a new "Garage Kitten". 

It showed up over the week end and will not leave.  Of course I don't know what one would expect when food and drink is left on the floor, because the poor thing just looks so miserable.  Jeeeeeeeez.

If anyone in the neighborhood recognizes this mutt....please come and pick it up before it has kittens itself.  I suspect that's the plan.  Nice warm, protected and now humans actually feed me.  So where else would I drop my kids off to play?  Has anyone else ever heard of the phrase..."Burlap bag, a brick and the river"?

I guess I am just kidding.  I wouldn't do that.  But the next time the bird craps on my shoulder, I will give it some thought.

On top of that it is a totally black cat.  Now I know where all my luck is coming from lately.  Memo to self, don't bother with the Lottery this week.

The third of the fifth

JUST FOR YOU!

My gift to all the ladies out there!  Love ya!  Particularly my daughter and grand daughters.

A little lavender and yellow.

Some dogwood and shadows.

Most beginning photographers love to shoot flowers and I must admit, I still do.  Their easy to find and they don't move much.  You can pick your lighting situations with a little planning or a mirror to cast highlights.

The rose and dogwood can be found in our yard.  The lavender and yellow is at the Riverbanks Zoo gardens here in South Carolina.  I could go over there every day as it is only about four miles away and a great place to walk, shoot and just have fun.  Don't do it enough.

It's a miracle.  Either the spell check isn't working or I actually spelt everything write the first time around.

The second of the fifth...an apolitical day!

Skipper, Skipper----how does your garden grow?

Why with blue bells, cockle shells and a great big *^&#  weed right in the middle.

Just an update.  This was the Preppers garden on 4/1/12

Just goes to show ya.  Seven years at an agriculture college and all I remember is --- you plant it and come back in thirty days and it's grown.



Sort of a time lapse series for those of you with a public school education.  I see the Catawba flowers are falling and that's going to present another problem.  They get ugly and sticky and impossible to remove which means I might not get back to the plants for another month and need to hose off the patio.

Just a broader view showing the jungle sized postage stamp which is the back yard.  Hey, from a thousand miles up it looks pretty good.  I know with the birds it's build it and they will come.  How about moles....if I built the garden with they come.  More protein for the prepper!  Maybe mole with a Catawba glaze?  Now I gotta find a recipe for weed soup!  You all have a great day waiting for the apocalypse!

Happy International Working Class Holiday!

That's happy May Day!

But then you folks with public school educations knew that, right?

For me just give me the Constitution and the Bill of Rights, and I'll go to work today.

I finally got him.

This is one of the male Rose-breasted Grosbeak that have visited us this spring.  We so far have had two males and a rather drab female.  I had never seen one of these guys and cannot emphasize the colorful markings.  That red is really bright.  They are a little smaller than a robin and seem to love our black oil sunflower.

Last night I had the chance to do a little fishing.  What a shocker huh?  Five ounce fly rod and an olive woolly bugger with a gold head.  And this striper succumbed to my wily ways.

He hit about four feet from shore and immediately took off about sixty feet of fly line.  Almost to the backing before I could stop him.  I can imagine what a twenty pounder might be like on this rod, just a thrill.  These fish are sluggers.  No fancy jumps like a salmon, small mouth bass or tarpon.  They feed voraciously when on, but can be very selective.  They stop feeding when full, unlike bluefish that gorge themselves, throw up and continue killing.  This is the fish of my youth on the Chesapeake Bay and it's nice to see another one, albeit of the land locked type.