Sunlight to Clear the Mind

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The fog we have had the last couple of days has been the perfect complement to our struggle with taxes. After days of staring at numbers, the fog outside was not nearly as thick as the one in my head.

After breakfast, I stepped outside to take a breath of the clean air and enjoy the light just breaking through the mist. One deep breath and I was scurrying for the camera. The light shining on the little stand of trees at the edge of our place was just the promise of hope that I needed to power me through these last few hours of suffering. By the time I processed the image, some of the cobwebs had cleared and my heart was considerably lighter.

After the package goes in the post office early this afternoon, there will be little time to enjoy the relief. All too soon we will have to begin preparing for April 15, 2010. In the meantime, however, I will have an opportunity to make lots of pictures and breathe lots of fresh air. Even the IRS can’t spoil those finer things in life.

Storm Warning

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The big storm that was coming our way never made it. By the time it encountered all the mountains around us, it had fizzled. Rain to the south and west; storms to the north; here, an early morning sprinkle and gray skies. I can’t say that I am horribly disappointed to have missed out on what the weather forecasters were predicting, indeed what hit some coastal communities. Still, it would have been nice to have gotten some rain. We need it.

Blogging for Dummies

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Not only am I not a geek, I am virtually paralyzed by the thought of most software. For example, I have almost none of the bells and whistles on my blog that Blogger offers and I am not even considering ever switching to Wordpress. Now, take this for what it is worth, since I have already admitted that I don’t know what I am talking about; but, my ill-informed impression is that Wordpress is well suited for folks who are adept with software while Blogger is designed not only for those clever enough to maximize it’s capabilities, but for dummies as well. Furthermore, the only version of Blogger is free and that suits my budget perfectly. Is there any wonder, why I went with the latter?

Being a non-geek, shows up front. My blog is in need of updating, but every time I get into the dashboard, I spend far too much time bumbling about and get frustrated that it takes so much time to complete what I know should be a simple task.

In the last few days, I screwed “my courage to the sticking place” and switched from the old "post editor" to the newer "updated editor". By the time I experimented for a couple of days, I was more than a little ticked-off and convinced that I had wasted my time and driven my blood pressure up by at least ten points. It appears that I traded spell-check and new problems for a couple of conveniences that I had been living without up to this point.  Yes, I got a typeface I prefer, namely Helvetica. Still. Worth all the hair pulling? Let’s put it this way, I switched back to the old, unimproved editor after one post—for health reasons. Life is short.

On a slightly saner (at least calmer) note, I have been curious about statistics for my site for at least six months. I know I have a very light traffic, but it would be nice to see the growth. I do think that I have more readers now than I did a year ago, but I have never had the gumption to install any sort of counter. I don’t spend much time thinking about it. Although curiosity is a powerful motivator, I wouldn’t be doing anything different with my posts after reading the statistics. I suppose, then, that it doesn’t matter except that it irritates me to be handcuffed by my lack of education—which is compounded by wimpiness. It's pathetic, isn't it, if you can't easily master Blogger? Hopleless, I would venture to say.

By the way, I have finally returned to fight another day with new "updated editor" and we are getting along better now. And, you can stop laughing at me now, thank you. Sigh. I think I will concentrate on taking more photos and enjoying the digital darkroom. It's wise to acknowledge our limitations and stay in the kiddie sandbox if we truly belong there.

P.S. If you are wondering whether the photo connects with the text, think about it. Bird. Brain. Riiiiiight.
 
P.P.S. I don't stay in this sort of mood long. There is no payoff. But, sheesh, every so often I just need a good rant. I already feel better.

Allergens 1, Anita 0

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Not long ago, I mentioned that I have virtually no sense of smell and that it gets me in trouble. Unfortunately, I also have nasty allergies. I have also admitted that our social life is pathetically dull. Well, we received an invitation last week and it worked out for our schedule. Since I had been mostly cooped up with bookkeeping programs and taxes, I was eagerly looking forward to an evening out. The best part is that the company was delightful and I had a great time. I passed over a slight alarm that went off in my head and hoped it was imagination. After all, while it was obvious that the home was going through major renovation, that didn’t mean any of the paint was fresh enough to cause me problems and I was having a great time gettting to know people. Besides, I always have hopes (maybe it’s blind stupidity) that I will be able to practice mind over matter and survive if the allergens aren’t strong enough to bring me to my knees immediately.

There was a great deal of getting to know one another and we got a tour of the home, now part way through through its impressive transformation. The view from the living area is splendid and I filed away the road to their house as one to explore, camera in hand. Determined to at least avoid stomach problems, I was careful to consume nothing but water. I didn't want anything to spoil the lovely evening. After about two hours, I could no longer ignore the warning signs and, fortunately for me, the party was breaking up anyway. It turns out we weren’t the only ones who normally turn in early.

Before we had completed the five minute drive home, I knew that my Superwoman cape had once again failed me. I could feel the asthma coming on and the headache building. Whatever the trigger, my throat was tightening, and I knew I was going kick to myself the next day for being stubborn. Who knows whether it was lingering paint fumes, too-new-for-me carpets, some adhesive used? Whatever the culprit was, The Husband didn’t detect any odors that would have alarmed him so it wasn't just my nose that failed.

An antihistamine probably blunted the effects considerably; but I slept badly, got little rest, and woke up feeling as though I had been rolled over by a bulldozer on a personal mission. My only comfort Saturday was the Dodgers completing a sweep of the Cardinals and heading for the NLCS. We take our pleasures where we can find them.

Loving the Dodgers and Higher ISO

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A few weeks ago, Paul Lester posted about higher ISO’s and his remarks started me thinking again about my most recent gear purchase. When I bought my Canon 50D, I knew full well that I wasn’t buying the camera that offered the best high ISO performance on today’s market. However, it ended up being the camera that best suited all my needs—cost and fps also ranked high on my must-have list. Because I still try to avoid going over ISO 640 to minimize processing chores, I have yet to fully explore all the possibilities of higher IS0’s with my newest camera. But, I am growing more confident that there are occasions when it’s high ISO to the rescue.


I didn’t gain the new confidence because I buckled down to some serious testing, but, as usual for me, stumbled into the information. A few days ago, The Husband took a break for a ride and left me toiling over the steaming heap of numbers we had been wading through for tax preparation. When I was completely burned out (it didn’t take long, since I had been at it off and on through the day), I decided I also needed a break. A little time watching one of our recorded episodes of NCIS was just what I needed. I escaped to the living room, turned on the TV, hit DVR, found an episode, but then realized I wanted a glass of water. My detour to the kitchen, put me within range of the radio I had left on in there the last time I snuck in a few minutes to catch up with the baseball game. Uh, oh. Ninth inning, Dodgers down 2 to 1, two outs. Rats. Maybe worth a minute for the nail to be put in the coffin. What? Holladay missed the ball, the Dodgers are alive?! Well, NCIS can wait. This was a playoff game, after all. As I listened to Vinnie call the play-by-play, I looked out toward the back pasture and noticed that The Husband had removed Lancer’s fly mask and the gelding was exerting a little energy fretting over being left alone.

Now there were three distractions calling. The Dodgers in distress, a distracting 40 minutes or so of TV drama, a relaxing photo shoot of Lancer (because after all I have hardly any pictures of the chestnut.) ;) The Dodgers won. I mean they won my attention and they won the game, a wonderfully exciting nail-biter. It was playoffs for NLCS over NCIS all the way.


The minute the winning run crossed the plate I grabbed the 50D and headed out toward the pasture to try my luck. By then, it was getting late and to get decent shutter speed and good exposure in the few remaining moments of light, I opted for ISO 2000. The files required a little extra time for noise reduction and I could probably do a better job with a noise reducing plug-in; but, so far, I get along with Photoshop CS3. While it’s true that I wouldn’t put these photos up against those shot under better circumstances; once again, I felt good about my choice to buy the camera. Without that higher ISO I would not have gotten the photos I hoped for. Of course, I would have gotten something different and the result might have been terrific, but I could always experiment in that direction. Having choices is nice.

Running Free

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These photos were made a few months ago and the horses were only turned out in that lush grain a couple of times for very short periods before the grain was mowed down.

The grain was beautiful to look at, but too rich for a grazing pasture. At least for our guys—especially the gray. After a limited grazing session, The Husband checked Night’s feet and discovered troubling signs in the white line. He had hoped to be able to put the geldings in that pasture for fifteen or twenty minutes a day without danger, but it appeared the grain was just too much for Night. Out came the tractor and down came the grain.

Paying attention to those troubling signs in horses’ hooves is critical to the animal’s survival. If the horse is prone to laminitis, permitting access to rich food can be a fatal error. The Husband has always been attentive to these matters, but has become even more keenly aware of these problems and warning signs since taking on his new career as a farrier. Never one to do anything halfway, he immersed himself in learning his new craft and his dedication has paid off multiple times.

The Husband's dedication has paid off multiple times now. He is currently celebrating the success of one of his rehab projects, a horse that had been shod for years and whose feet were in sorry shape. Fortunately, the owner took The Husband’s advice to take the old gelding barefoot for natural trims. Now Turbo’s feet have been rehabilitated and are in excellent condition. His life expectancy just got bumped up by a few years and that’s good news.

Installing the New Modem/Router

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A couple of days ago we received the new Modem/Router from AT&T and finally, Sunday evening, we had time to get into the easy, sure-fire, foolproof, can’t fail installation. You see where this is going, don’t you? Sure enough, we hit the dead end early in the process. Since the device is set up on The Husband’s computer and I am plugged into the network he was on the keyboard this round. Confidently, he clicked on “Run”, which the instructions explained would complete the installation process, then take us through the next few, simple, painless steps. Nope. After about four attempts, shutting off firewalls and tinkering with security, we gave up and called technical support.

I promise I don’t work for AT&T and don’t know anyone who does, but I am becoming a walking advertisement for these people. (By the way, I hope this doesn’t get the FTC on my case, because I am going to talk in a positive way about AT&T”s customer service.) Once again we negotiated the automated portion of the call and eventually got to a polite and attentive technician who walked the husband through the work-around. Sure enough it was simple (once there was a guide leading the way) and we are all set again with our Internet connection (including a device with a firewall). The Husband reset all his security controls and we are good to go—only until the next power failure, perhaps; but, next time we know how to solve the problem.

Caught Off Guard

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This hawk and I surprised one another Friday evening. After being inside all day, I headed for the front door to take a short walk while the corn bread baked and, on the way, grabbed the camera that had a CF card loaded. It happened to be the 50D with the 70-200mm f4.0. When I stepped off the porch, I turned to the left to check out the sunrise potential and saw out of the corner of my eye one of the hawks perched on our roof. He took off and I scrambled to get a photo.

I wasn’t ready for him and it looks as though he wasn’t prepared for someone to interrupt his hunting. I always walk away from these encounters mentally kicking myself. If, if, if. I only I had had time to choose shutter speed. If only I had had time to adjust exposure. If only I had framed it better. If only I had attached the teleconverter before I walked outside.

Instead of dwelling on the regrets, I decided to celebrate having gotten anything at all. After all, this was strictly a gift. It’s not as it I planned, waited, and watched—investing time in and earning a nice photo. I was fortunate to experience the moment and get anything at all.

All this thinking about how I wish I had done things differently reminded me, of course, of Paul Lester’s post, "Lessons Learned". Each time I download a batch of pictures onto my hard drive, I wonder what new lessons I will learn. Or, what old lessons I might be reminded of yet again.

A Weekend Blowout

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Our trip last weekend took us down into the desert and south straight into the soaring temperatures and the last gasp of summer 2009. Don’t get me wrong. There will be more hot days, but southern California isn’t likely to have another extended spell of three digit temps until next summer. Why did we take the old RV south and into the desert during a heat wave when we could have stayed in Bear Valley Springs where it was 10 to 15 degrees cooler? We were traveling to a birthday party of a dear friend, then further south to a family wedding.

The early portion of the trip was blistering hot and, just north of Riverside (a little over half way to our first destination), we heard a frighteningly loud kerthump and felt something hit the underside of the vehicle. We both had had our eyes on the road and felt confident that we hadn’t run over anything. The vehicle was driving as though nothing had happened; but, The Husband realized it had to have been a blowout and exited the freeway. Sure enough, the tread was stripped from a rear tire. Interestingly, it hadn’t lost any air. Blowouts are common on southern California highways in the summer. With the temperature at 110 degrees, the asphalt is a virtual frying pan and not exactly what the doctor ordered for rubber.

Blowouts are never fun, but at least we weren’t in the middle of the Mojave. After one false lead took us to a Goodyear tire store that didn’t have the correct model tire, we found the right store and headed for the waiting room to relax while the Goodyear guys did their thing. We knew we were in trouble when we spotted large fans aimed at the guys behind the counter. It had to have been at least 85 degrees in there, but it sure as heck beat waiting beside the road for the insurance company’s version of AAA service to arrive. (Been there, done that).

Why didn’t we simply stop on the shoulder and replace the tire with the spare. First answer would be the heat coming off the pavement at 20 or 30 degrees higher than the 100 plus degrees we were getting on the indoor/outdoor thermometer. Second, the spare was at least as old as the tire that blew and The Husband wisely chose not to risk two blowouts in one trip. We just counted our blessings since we didn’t get hurt with the tire holding up as it did and it had only taken us about 30 minutes to finally get to the Goodyear store. The only bad news was that by the time we were back on the road it was very late and we finally rolled in at the party just at the tail end of the celebration. We even missed singing “Happy Birthday” to the birthday girl.

The next leg of the trip was uneventful, the wedding was lovely, and it was wonderful seeing The Husband’s family. Since all the siblings are scattered across the continent, reunions are special and infrequent occasions. Having come perilously close to one of my heatstroke numbers, I was pretty blitzed and I hardly picked up a camera during the first two days. Then the heat wave broke on Monday and the trip back was easy. A drive that took nine and a half hours on the way down took five hours for the return. I was treated to the beautiful clouds you see in the photo here and it was cool enough to enjoy them. By the time, I took this picture we were only about forty-five minutes from Home Sweet Home and I was ready to put the weekend behind me.

Boundaries and Opportunities

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There are moments when I regret the fencing on our property and even resent its intrusion. Yes, I know that it is a necessity with the horses. Still, I loved the openness that we experienced when we first moved here. The land closest to our house stretched seamlessly into our surrounding acres and then flowed into the open land to the west and south of us. It made me feel somehow as though my space extended all the way to the horizon and that I was a part of and belonged with all Bear Valley Springs.

The pasture fencing changed that. There are patches of land, now, that are clearly delineated for specific uses and our space has been cut up into smaller pieces. The flow of land to the south is interrupted, and the mountains in the distance have been moved a little farther away.

On the other hand, sometimes a fence is a convenient perch, rather than a boundary. And, thanks to those perches, I get close-up views of some of our little neighbors that I would otherwise have missed.

Fences or opportunities? It comes down to how I look at them.