It’s been a rough week and I’m guessing there are others out there in need of a smile. Look no further than Zippy and Emma.
April 11, 2021
I’m not sure whether she’s got her tongue out at me/photographer or because Zippy is gripping her hind feet like he’s a pilot guiding a plane down for an emergency landing.
Doesn’t matter. Makes me smile.
August 15, 2019
Happened so quickly
beach ball nephew mutation
it’s all relative
I add food scraps to the worm bin every weekend which has become a bit of a challenge now that it’s only Zippy and me. When a son or two lived here, there’d be more fruit and vegetable matter for me to chop up for my worm friends. Now I have to search the refrigerator to ensure they have enough to eat during the week.
That’s why when I found a bunch of cilantro past its expiration date today, I was really happy. Slightly slimy cilantro in the drawer? Excellent! Now I didn’t have to rely on feeding the worms a ton of coffee grounds (which the worms love but I sometimes worry hops them up too much).
Image by Gábor Adonyi from Pixabay
While I chopped those greens and added them to the cauliflower and zucchini pieces, I thought about how I welcome stuff past its expiration date. Not only furry fruits and rotten veggies, but also coupons. Why? Because expired coupons are a no-brainer: they go into the recycle bin. An expired coupon means one less item in my problematic piles of paper. Straight into the recycle bin.
Sometimes it’s good to let things go, you know?
The snow has started falling again, much to the delight of these four kids.
It’s been fun seeing the many snow caves and tunnels and quinzhees around the neighborhood. When I lived in Anchorage, my good friend Anne S. did a weekend wilderness class during the winter in which they had to build quinzhees and then spend the night in them. She invited me to take the class with her, but I declined. When Anne returned, she regaled me with stories of a woman named Betsy who struggled throughout the weekend, constantly complaining about cold, wet, hunger, discomfort, etc.
I looked at Anne and said, “I would’ve been the Betsy of the quinzhee.”
True then and true now.
I realize this photo seems artfully arranged: dog napping in patch of sunshine with dead geranium leaf angled above nose and the hint of a geranium bloom beyond Emma’s nostrils. Nope.
November 20, 2020
We’re just not good about sweeping up around here.
Basically, if you go looking for trouble, it’ll come find you. ~ Estelle
February 25, 2021
This squirrel and I had multiple face-offs the other day over the peanut feeder that keeps the chickadees, nuthatches, and bushtits happy. I don’t mind squirrels snacking on the bird food now and again, but I do object to them eating ALL the peanuts.
Scat! The squirrel food’s hanging on the back fence, yo.
Today I’m grateful for my wavy hair that hides scissors-related mistakes. I haven’t had a professional haircut in over a year and just cut my own for the third time during this no-end-in-sight pandemic. Does it look like a pro cut? Nope. Do I care? Not at all. Do I feel better now? Absolutely!
Tracy post-cut. February 8, 2021
Here’s a photo taken with my Android phone camera (that takes incredibly low-quality selfies). Looking at it, I already see some too-long strands here and there. Not to mention I appear slightly cross-eyed. 😂
Whatever. I’m relieved to have less hair to deal with and am now ready to face the coming week.
eta: adding this other photo because it shows more egregious hair errors!:
There is no excellent beauty that hath not some strangeness in the proportion. ~ Francis Bacon
Marcel of the seemingly enormous head and tiny body, Nov 15, 2020
Silver Jack Campground, Uncompahgre National Forest. July 29, 2019
December 26, 2020
I was just in the basement, tending to the worm bin, when I heard a sound I assumed came from the dog and/or cats upstairs. Nope. It was Marcel, shifting position in his sun-soaked napping place.
Glad someone’s getting use out of the treadmill.
I’ve got strong feelings about ALL SORTS OF STUFF right now and felt a rant rising inside me. But as I tried to pin down exactly what I wanted to convey, I paused and reconsidered. Maybe what I really wanted to do was post about the writing life: the process, my progress, the angst and insecurities, etc. I’ve written many such posts over the years and appreciate that documentation which reminds me I’ve been here before and survived. Breathe, Tracy.
Which is how I began searching through Douglas Adams quotes, knowing he wasn’t an angsty guy but would provide me with the tone needed today. And here’s what resonated with me:
My absolute favourite piece of information is the fact that young sloths are so inept that they frequently grab their own arms and legs instead of tree limbs, and fall out of trees. ~ Douglas Adams
Image by Minke Wink from Pixabay
Why does this resonate? One: it cracked me up. Two: I can relate to those young sloths because Three: as I near the end of this first draft, I vacillate between an overwhelming sense of ineptness and glimmers of “hot damn, this might actually not suck too much!”
And at the risk of sounding like a sloth-shamer: I haven’t yet fallen out of the tree.
One day last week, son Wildebeest and I had our cameras out to practice photographing a black cat and a white cat at the same time. It’s difficult to land on the correct settings that will allow the black cat to have definition without also blowing out the white cat’s fur. This photo is proof of my ongoing struggle.
Marcel and Loki basking on their box condo. November 20, 2020
However, capturing the moment Loki launched the attack on his brother from below was a small victory. And if you look closely, you’ll see a hint of trepidation on Marcel’s face. Every picture, even a poor one, tells a story.
Yesterday, Zippy told Wildebeest a story from when we lived in Alaska (before Wildebeest was born). It was a summer night, and Zippy and our dog Packy were out in our large yard where there was a pile of branches and grass clippings left by the previous owners. (We, being basically lazy people, had left it there with the rationale that it provided wildlife habitat). Zippy noticed something white in the branches, something he thought was a volleyball.
He proceeded to poke at the “volleyball” with a stick. (I know, I know. Who arms themselves with a stick when approaching a piece of sports equipment?)
Well, you can guess what happened. BEES!
Zippy yelled, “Run, Packy! Run!” The bees swarmed them as they ran to the safety of the house.*
As I listened to his story, a memory tickled my brain. And then I remembered: Have I Got a Story for You. Read it and weep (with laughter).
*Zippy wasn’t stung and as far as we know, no stingers penetrated Packy’s thick fur.
It’s been a day and when I went in search of an image to perk me up, I thought of my love for mannequins. I’ve posted lots over the years (unfortunately, I wasn’t great at using tags in early blogging days so can’t readily locate them now), but none tops this photo. However, that unbeatable image didn’t stop me from searching for another that would steal my heart today.
Image by dietcheese from Pixabay
I’m going with this one because my emotions have been all over the place and this seems to encompass a few of those feelings.
Now I’m off to apply some lime-green lipstick . . .
August 22, 2020
Over the past several years, my partner has bemoaned the scarcity of magpies in our yard. We’d see them throughout the neighborhood, but they weren’t spending much time in our yard anymore. We missed their raucous energy.
Then one day last month (which just happened to be our wedding anniversary), we noticed a whole bunch of magpies in our neighbors’ backyard, their trees, and on the fence between us. We’d hit the magpie jackpot! But why?
Rainbow peering through the fence at magpies frolicking in our bird bath. August 15, 2020
Well, according to our neighbor, when he came home that day to find his yard filled with magpies, he was equally puzzled. Then he went to feed his dog and couldn’t find the nearly-full bag of chow, which was also a puzzle. So he stepped out in the yard and pieced together the sequence of events. His doggo had dragged the bag of food into the yard, scattering the kibble everywhere. The smart corvids had quickly found the treasure.
They also immediately found our bath and took turns tidying up.
August 15, 2020
And as a sign of their appreciation for the use of our facilities, they began leaving gifts for us on the deck rail and tucked away on the steps.
The best news is they’re still hanging around and we’re treated to magpie sightings every day.
Four Black-billed Magpies. August 15, 2020
We salute you, Rainbow Dash. Pure genius.
Marcel assesses the activity. September 28, 2020
Cat and squirrel face off through the glass as a House Finch dines in the background. Meanwhile, a fish (window sticker) swims across the scene. Would’ve been even more awesome if a reptile wandered into the picture.
Guess it could happen…the day’s still young.
It’s 6:00 pm. How did that happen?! But the more pressing question is: why did the photographer who posted this photo on Pixabay tag it with “joy”?
Depending on your perspective, various words could describe this little boy’s expression and body language. Possible interpretations? I think he could be dazed, sad, tentative, or demoralized. Heck, maybe his arm’s tired from holding that plane and he’s just worn out. Nowhere do I see evidence of joy.
Anyway, I popped into WordPress-land to post something before this day completely passed me by and instead of a quick in-and-out, I spent twenty minutes analyzing this photo.
Hmm. Maybe there’s a lesson here for where the day went . . .
I keep meaning to write a funny post about magpies and the neighbor’s dog, complete with lots of photos I took several days ago. But my energy level’s still not there (in large part because we haven’t been able to open windows today due to wildfire smoke which means the house is approximately two hundred degrees).
Instead, I went to Pixabay and found a photo that made me smile.
Image by Michael Mosimann from Pixabay
I hope these little pigs also bring you a smile.
Image by Harald Matern from Pixabay
This is a slight exaggeration.
My horns aren’t quite this long.
(Confession: I just spent approximately one thousand minutes perusing free goat images on Pixabay. Fellow goat-lovers . . . proceed at your own risk.)
Greetings from my friend, Marcel.
July 2020.
This peanut butter kitty could definitely kick our asses with his enormous feet, but Marcel prefers to snuggle. In fact, he’s in ecstasy when I rub the the bottoms of those long feet and often drools during our massage sessions. Gotta admire his unapologetic hedonism.
Finished my revisions! Time to do the Emu!
Image by Wolfgang Michalke from Pixabay
Wait, do the what? Well, according to Wikipedia, emus spend their day:
Two out of four ain’t bad.
Presenting . . . A Brief Exchange Between a Mother and Son
Me: Hey, if right now you said, ‘Mom, let’s go run,’ I would run.
Son: Really? You’d run?
Me: Yep. (Immediately feels a weakening of resolve ). Or, I could have an edible and a beer, and get in the tub.
Son: Oh, do that. That sounds way better!
Narrator: This concludes our straight-forward story. No twist, no surprise ending.
I went in search of a quotation, thinking I’d find one about how days can truly feel as if they passed in a blur. Instead, I found something much better. A quote that makes me laugh:
Western Scrub Jay. Dec 8, 2017
Photography is painting with light! The blurs, the spots, those are errors! But the errors are part of it, they give it poetry and turn it into painting. And for that you need as bad a camera as possible! If you want to be famous, you have to do whatever you’re doing worse than anyone else in the whole world. ~ Miroslav Tichy
I’m pretty sure I achieved that last line. Well, except for the fame part.
Adult entertainment store. Uppsala, Sweden. May 4, 2017.
I’m a bit slow on the uptake today. I was thinking this image was perfect for Wordless Wednesday, until I realized the whole point of this photo was the word. That one, silly word. LUSTGARDEN. Say it with me: LUSTGARDEN. Wasn’t that fun?**
Anyway, I’m posting it because it all makes me laugh. Take that, Wednesday! I’m that kinda rebel!
**Oops. I checked a pronunciation site and apparently I’m pronouncing it incorrectly. It isn’t, as I thought and hoped, looostgarden. Darn.
Marcel. December 28, 2017
Just to be clear, the only weapons Marcel has in that box are claws, teeth, and a whole lot of tangled ribbon. Your wallets are safe.
On the other hand, he does drool. A lot. So to be on the safe/dry side, you might want to back away slowly . . .
