Stories Behind The Stories

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And, now, that is the truth. Better late, than never.

I will share some stories about my recent tall tale. The details of my story were fabricated strictly for your entertainment; yet, they are remotely connected to facts. Just as nightly dreams so often are connected to real events, my fantasies relate loosely to actual events. They are my daydreams embellished with a bit of pure fantasy. Or, maybe fantasies built on daydreams. Something in one of these neighborhoods.

Because my brother lives in Buenos Aires, Argentina, I do frequently daydream about visiting him there. All my various health issues pretty much preclude such an undertaking, but I do daydream about it. In terms of new camera gear, I am dealing with a serious itch for a couple of things. However, I can say that no Hassleblad model has ever been on any list, so far. My list tends to include more down-to-earth items such as a G12 and a few more Canon L lenses for the 40D and 50D. Some days the daydreams revolve around a new wide angle lens; some days it is all about 300 or 400 mm lenses. Once again the connection with my recent flight of fantasy is iffy. But, if you are feeling generous, you might say that one was somewhat rooted in a real desire.

I had to throw in the mountain climbing because that is something that I never got to do. It is a common fantasy. While cruises have never occupied a great deal of space in my daydreams, who hasn't thought about how exciting it would be to participate in an African photo safari?

I have gotten a big kick out of the response to my tall tale. On the other hand, I am wondering if this is a sign that my primary calling in connection with the blogging world is spinning wild yarns. Yikes! That would be limiting.

Further Adventures with DSL

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Sorry about that folks. I fixed the link

Don’t expect me to explain exactly what happened to our Internet service, but we are much closer now to a solution. Finally, Wednesday morning what had been abysmally poor service got even worse. When I called the number for our DSL provider, I reached a very polite, well informed, customer service representative. To begin with the customer service rep told us (I’m no fool. I had The Husband in on this so we could play as a team.) to attach the modem directly to a computer and by pass the router (we have a network). After running some tests, she walked me through going to DOS and, with her dictating the directions, I reconfigured our IP address.

Fortunately for my sanity, The Husband had the presence of mind after it was done to ask how the address came to be incorrect in the first place since we really hadn’t been messing around in DOS lately . She explained that the address had probably been lost, corrupted, screwed up, whatever (by then my brain was reeling) as a result of a power failure. I don’t know whether you recall or not, but indeed we do have power failures in Bear Valley Springs. (It’s not all singing birds, wild flowers, and pretty scenery living out in the boonies.)

So, the good news is that, once again, I have access to the World Wide Web. The bad news is…we aren’t done yet. 1. Yes, I have Internet access, but The Husband does not. We still have to plug in the router and finish the job. (We weren’t able to take the support call to the next step due to The Husband’s schedule. It’s pathetic, but I don’t tackle these things if he isn’t in the house in case I call for help.) 2. All this comes just when I am going to be out of touch completely for a few days and then returning to a big, nasty job—taxes. Does it get any nastier than that? Thus, this won’t be finished until approximately mid-October. In the meantime, I have been able to sneak in a little time to check this out, and now I am remembering that DSL isn’t so bad. When it’s working properly, it’s pretty darned fast.

Before I wrap up this complaining and celebrating fest, I want to mention that the customer service from AT&T has been excellent each time that we have encountered a problem. Comcast may have provided the faster Broadband to us in LA, but their customer service was inept, rude, impatient, and thoroughly loathsome. In the long run, I prefer DSL. Go AT&T.

I certainly learned a great deal. I am still mystified by how an incorrect IP address could result in deteriorating Internet access. Why on earth didn’t it simply stop cold, instead of slowly getting worse over a period of at least two months? First, it began to slow. Then the connection would just disappear for no reason. A few minutes later, after running that "restoring connectivity" gizmo, it would be back and maybe last for quite a while, maybe not. The only constant was that it kept getting worse. That was what threw me. I assumed it had to be a problem with my computer, or our router. (Come to think of it, the latter may still be the case.) I was surprised how simple and quick it was to reconfigure the IP address and why it needed to be done. Most of all we got into this mess because I repeated an error I make all too often. Since I am painfully aware of what a dismal pseudo-geek I am, I always assume that I have messed up rather than putting the blame outside myself. That’s one of those things I am still working on. Oh, well, the clean-up job I started on my hard drives needs to be done anyway.

The Last Rose Standing

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Not surprisingly, I became quite attached to the only rose that was spared in The Great August Massacre. Now, it probably qualifies as the most photographed rose on the North American continent. I wasn’t thinking about insects as I focused the macro lens on this occasion, but these wise guys popped into the frame. I decided to humor them.

Originally, I toyed with the idea of going black and white for this one. When that didn’t seem right, I opted for the muted tones. When you consider how addicted I am to color, I wonder what this says about my state of mind. Maybe it has something to do with all the dreadful news from the Los Angeles area. It’s difficult to manage a light-hearted attitude with the fires devouring acre after acre.

Gather Ye Rosbuds

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Robert Herrick gave us some good advice in his poem. Just today, I was reminded to

“Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,

Old Time is still a-flying:

And this same flower that smiles to-day

To-morrow will be dying."

Yesterday morning, I got out in the yard early. There I was, dressed to the nines (in my pj’s and bedroom slippers with that inevitable straw hat), and having a photographic feast on daisies, geraniums, petunias, and the fledging rose bush that The Husband recently planted. I was keeping one eye on the den of evil flesh-eating red ants, but mostly focused on enjoying one delicate and just opening rosebud, along with two or three buds that were mere promises. All in all, there were six or seven roses in the making. The anticipation was delicious. Soon, there would be a splendid show of the mostly white blossoms with the subtle pink touches. I was dreaming of another morning of exploration and further experimentation with the macro lens combined with Live View. (It took me a while, but I just got interested in this feature on my 50D.) When I went to bed last night, I was already relishing the dilemma of choosing among the blooms.

By now, you have probably guessed the ending of this sad tale. I awoke this morning to discover two pathetically bare rose bushes—stripped of all but one bud. The deer were probably the culprits. The hungry scoundrels had passed over the acres of grasses, along with what is left of the daisies, for our roses. Success growing roses in Bear Valley Springs is spotty. I have heard other such gloomy tales as mine. Yet, I have also seen bushes blooming away and seemingly immune from deer attacks. It’s time to learn the secrets of those whose bushes are surviving. In the meantime, I have a few photos to help me remember the sweet and fragile blossoms that I did get to enjoy.

Macro Photography With a Touch of Pacino

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As I walked to the kitchen, a couple of mornings ago, I took a second, as I always do, to admire the view of the mountains to the south and the horses waiting for breakfast. I was delighted to see that the first rose had bloomed on the rose bush that The Husband planted a couple of months ago. Naturally, I was excited about getting out to the patio for a closer look and maybe even a photograph before the wind picked up.

In my enthusiasm for the delicate new rose, not to mention the hollyhocks, the geraniums, and the sweet wild daisies, I began wandering about in the untamed area off the patio. It is, unfortunately, typical of me that I was looking through the viewfinder and not thinking about my feet. I took my time enjoying all the offerings of our little yard and was headed back inside to prepare breakfast and begin the day when I felt a sharp stabbing pain under my left arm and a strange burning sensation that rushed across my upper body in the direction of my breastbone. It was like nothing I had ever felt before and stopped me in my tracks. I said to The Husband that I felt strange and sat down. Within seconds, I felt another of the pricks on the right side just below my waist and once again the burning sensation ran toward the center of my body. I was feeling pain—although minor and mostly peculiar when The Husband got up and said, “Don’t move. There’s something in your hair.”

Well, let’s cut to the chase now. I had stepped in an ant bed and the little suckers were getting even with me. After my shower with the ant-infested clothes safely in the washer and an antihistamine in me, I looked at the ant bed The Husband wanted to point out to me. (It’s pretty obvious, by the way. Just a stupid moment on my part.)

I didn’t get any photographs because almost the moment I stepped outside the wind had picked up and I had to wait a couple of days for my photographs. But, I learned that the ants we have at our place are large, mean, and pack a sting that my immune system doesn’t handle well.

It turns out my attackers are Harvester ants. (While doing research on the web I found this charming little tidbit at http://www.painfulbite.com/red_harvester_ant.php : “Red Harvester Ants can be aggressive and have a painful sting that spreads through the lymph nodes, sometimes causing reactions, especially in those allergic to their venom. In addition to their potent sting, Red Harvester ants can bite ferociously.” I can vouch for the accuracy of this information as well as the fact that they are creepy ugly.)

I may not know much about these beasts, but I know this: I want them dead. I want their mothers dead. I want their fathers dead. I want them all dead. I can deal with the ground squirrels that eat flowers and burrow under fence posts and the house, for crying out loud. Heck, they are cute and I am a little attached to the one who has the penthouse outside the window. But, the ants? Those guys bring out the killer instinct in me.

This morning, I got brave enough to once again venture out to the wilds and actually got some pictures. This time I didn’t make a move without checking first to see where I was about to put my feet.

Roses

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I celebrated a birthday a few days ago, and my husband not only took me to to Samy's Camera Store for some new toys, but surprised me with two dozen roses!! A dozen each of red and white. We both got a huge kick out the fact that they weren't the expensive florist shop style bouquets. (Sorry, if anyone has a florist in the family and is offended.) I just had to take a few pictures to savor their beauty. Now hubby is sick, so today has been a trip to see the doctor followed by plenty of sympathy and pudding. I think he liked the pudding best of all.

In case you are thinking of making out your Santa list and you are interested in developing your photography skills, you might think about Scott Kelby's book, “The Digital Photography Book”. His Volume 2 is available for pre-order now, if you have already read volume 1.

Addictions Come in Many Forms

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This is the sort of thing that sometimes happens when I decide to spend just a few minutes playing in Photoshop. (Really. Promise. I won't be much longer. How much time have I been doing this?! That's not possible. Are you sure?) I still say there should be a warning label on Adobe's product. "This software can be addictive for certain personalities. Side effects include lost sleep, damaged relationships, poor work habits, reduced productivity, depleted bank account, large numbers of destroyed brain cells during the learning process, and, in some cases severe dependency. Use with caution and at your own risk."