Another weekend test

Here I am stubbornly trying something else. Like a dog with a bone.

Snow on the Tomato War Battlefield

We had our first snowfall yesterday. It was a mere dusting, but a clear death knell for our lovely Autumn. It certainly was a far cry from the days of "The Great Tomato Wars of August".

Back then, I wrote about The Husband's tomato plants and the critters that were munching on the fruit. In spite of the caterpillars and ground squirrels, many of the tomatoes survived. The Husband continues to enjoy the bounty of his labors. While I can no longer eat tomatoes, I have enjoyed watching him reap the rewards of his labor. I am not certain he will put in the effort again next year; but, he certainly feels that it was worth fighting off the marauding enemies this year. My pleasure is doubled by the sight of the last of the red beauties still decorating the kitchen island.

In The Pink?

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Since I am still not at my best, it seemed an appropriate time to post my impression of the pink peonies that The Husband brought home a couple of weeks ago. Just as the peonies had seen better days when I took this photograph, I have been better. But, what matters is that I have been a great deal worse.

The healing of my hand is coming along nicely. I am typing with all ten fingers now and yesterday I picked up the 40D and snapped a couple of pictures. Since I had the old Canon "nifty fifty" on that backup camera, the gear was light. I couldn't resist giving it a try. I didn't make any pictures that I want to post; but, that was mainly because the freshest flowers in the house have seen better days. Unfortunately, they haven't aged as gracefully as the peonies or the tulips did. The sound of the shutter was music to my ears and fueled my determination to continue the hand exercises. Keep the Advil and Tylenol handy.

Today, I dream of living where peonies bloom for weeks on end. But, I dream about a lot of things and who knows what it may be tomorrow.

Flowers for the Sick

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If you have seen Tennessee Williams' Streetcar Named Desire, you are likely to remember, "Flores por los muertos." Since I may be under the weather—but definitely still kicking, the line isn't appropriate in my situation. Never mind. I took some liberties in my translation of the playwright's dialogue. I am sure he became accustomed to that.

I wasn't feeling well over a period of several days and I got two beautiful bunches of flowers to cheer me up. The Husband had to travel to Los Angeles and brought home a bunch of pink peonies and the white tulips you see here. Even though I didn't feel up to taking photographs until the flowers were past their prime, I love the look of them in their last days.

I will be out of touch most, or all, of this week. I am not sure I will be in the mood to hunt and peck keys with one hand after my surgery. But, I will be checking up on everybody. That means if you get into mischief, I will hear about it.

(Two of the three textures used in the image are from Shadowhouse Creations.)

A Macro Kind of Afternoon

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Note: Finally discovered that the link was missing. Better late than never?

On Sunday, I was in the mood for something different. The macro lens sounded promising. Since it hadn't been used in some time, it had actually been put away properly in the storage cabinet. But once I dug it out and it was on the old 40D, I remembered why I enjoyed it so much.

We were blessed with a glorious, sunny day and I decided to spend part of it wandering around our place, looking more closely at some of the odds and ends on our property. What with all the equipment The Husband has for horse-keeping and his penchant for doing his own repairs and much of the building, our place is littered with a mish-mash of vehicles, trailers, tools, gears, bolts, and hinges. Then there is the odd collection of memorabilia we have acquired along the way. I have to confess that I am mostly responsible for the odds and ends on the patio as well as the two pieces of old rusty farm equipment out front. 

The sun was springtime warm that day; there was only the slightest breeze; and I happily puttered about feasting on details. Later, after I had processed the handful of images that I wanted to keep, I was still smiling contentedly. All in all, it had been a thoroughly satisfying way to spend a Sunday afternoon. Perhaps on another sunny afternoon, I will check out some of the things in the pasture. And then when the tack room is further along....

Still Life Photos in My Future

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Wow. I surely do know where to go for counseling the next time we have a houseguest. When I think of how much less work would have been involved! No. Wait. All that advice was from guys. Hmm. Maybe I should get some advice from some females to balance things out.

Here is the truth. I need something like a houseguest to put an axe over my head. I do want to eventually get fully moved in. But, there are always pictures to be made; something new to learn; experiments to be pursued; tutorials to study; material to read. What is a person to do? Now, thanks to The Husband’s niece, we are a little closer to being settled in and making this a home.

But, you had better believe that the minute the door closed behind The Houseguest, the B&H box came out. The dust behind the three-horse trailer she was pulling hadn’t settled over the driveway, before I had gotten the STE2 transmitter on the 50D.

I spend the next two days making dozens of test shots. More dead batteries. I’m slow. In the time it took to get the photo of the vegetables remotely close to what was in my head, a second bridge over Oakland Bay could have been built. Even after all those tries, the photograph still needed some clean up (should have done more) from the light spills that I failed to control, and the final product didn’t match up to my mental picture.

But, it’s that persistence thing. Eventually, I will work my way closer and closer to a grasp of how this stuff works. Ray K recommended a book to me that is bound to make its way into my Christmas stocking, and I continue finding helpful articles online. Expect to put up with more still life photos sprinkled among the landscapes and pictures of the horses—especially as winter settles in here. I can watch the snow fall while I take tons of pictures and keep my feet warm as toast. Sounds like a good plan. I stay comfy, and it sure beats tackling those last couple of rooms that need to be done.

Still Life and Expensive Passions

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For this pursuit of indoor photography I mentioned, I will have plenty of subjects for still life studies similar to the one above. Like any other self-respecting horseman, The Husband has quite a collection of tack. If I could still ride, I would have two expensive interests—both involving a great deal of gear.

That is a distinct similarity between the horse and photography worlds. For photographers, the temptation to add cameras, lenses, and bags seems never to end. Similarly, for the horse owner, there is always another bit you need, a better fitting and/or lighter saddle, a new set of reins, girth, or blanket to replace the old worn equipment, as well as new boots and shoes for yourself and the horse. Then there are the smaller items that get lost or simply wear out such as halters, lead robes, brushes, hoof picks, leg wraps, curry combs, buckets, and well you get the idea. Besides all this, you have to buy land or pay for a stable to keep the horse. (There is a reason so many horse people drive old beat up cars).

Oh well, at least cameras don’t eat—or do they? CF or SD cards? Still, there is perhaps an even more critical difference in the price to be paid for these two passions: cameras don’t leave piles of poop to be cleaned up.

Hmm. Come to think of it, maybe thanks to some operators, even that isn’t true.

Addendum: This one is a found still. I didn't look around for a clean bit. If you check the larger size, you'll see that the bit didn't get cleaned and I didn't set up any lighting. Just playing, so far.