Day 5

I am tired. The swelling has abated...I have a bicep but no collarbone. There is alot of bruising. I am trying to use my arm as much as possible...forcing myself to do so. I begin therapy on Tuesday. Yea Ha!

We went out for a bit yesterday and today. I had to go shopping because it seems that I have gained about ten pounds and none of my pants fit. I don't know how that is possible considering I am eating nothing but toast most of the time. Water retention?

I am going to try to go to work tomorrow. Try............stay tuned to see if I was successful.

Day 3 - Bandages Are Off

Can you believe those three little holes have caused this much trouble?

I feel better overall today. The pain is not as insidious as it has been. It is mostly painful when I move...of course I am being encouraged to do so as much as I can. Do you know how hard it is to move something that hurts? I cannot lift my arm off the bed by its own power...I must assist it with my good arm. It is still very swollen and heavy.

I did shower on my own today and even managed to help cook dinner. I ate a bit of it too! It seems I am moving forward. I plan on going back to work on Monday. When I say that, my husband just laughs at me. It's good to have goals isn't it?

I can stretch the pain pills out to six hours if I am being still. The antibiotics are beginning to cause other 'problems'. Still not convinced I should have done this! I guess time will tell.

Creative Photography #15

Reflections of myself in her chrome

It is beyond an image

We are one

Day 2 = update

WOW...this has been like nothing I have ever experienced and I gave birth to a nine pound baby!

I did get a bath and my hair washed in the kitchen sink today....but other than that have not done anything.

I am resting in bed and taking pain pills about every three hours...that is about as long as they last. I still can't think about eating anything more that toast.

I am trying to drink but that is tough. The idea of anything in my stomach makes me ill. The problem with that is...the pain meds lower my blood pressure and I need the fluids to keep it up. Before I left the hospital I was given 1000cc of fluid because my blood pressure dropped to 88/54.

The bandages are to come off tomorrow. That should make movement a little easier or at least less confining. The pain makes nothing easy...breathing, coughing, sleeping, moving etc.

There is one good thing...I can sleep in my bed. There is nothing like your own bed when you don't feel good.

Home Sweet Home

I am home! What supposed to be a simple out patient procedure turned into a nightmare. I will fill you in later.

Thank you for your kind words and thoughts.


I hope you all have a great holiday!

Lucy Is Hospitalized For Pain

This is a friend of Lucy's with a report. She got through her surgery okay. The "insidious bone spur" is gone, and the docs have used their high-tech dremel tools to grind off other unnecessary pieces of bone in the shoulder region. Most importantly, the rotator cuff was not torn. Overall, the procedures went well.

But . . . (and as Lucy is fond of saying, "it is a big but") . . .

She has been admitted to the hospital for pain management. Because of concerns from the medical staff, she agreed ahead of time with their recommendation that a nerve block be performed during the procedure. The purpose, essentially, is to deaden any feeling in the entire arm for a number of hours, post-op. This was to help get through the roughest period -- immediately following surgery. During this time frame, she was told, pain likely would be most intense.

The block did not work.

She is being treated tonight for this issue. Complicating things a bit, Lucy doesn't react well to anesthesia and is having problems with nausea.

Bottom line: Please keep Lucy in your thoughts tonight. No danger to her life, but the "discomfort" level is very, very, very high.

Stitches or Staples?

So.....am I ready? In less than 12 hours I will be at the hospital having holes cut in my shoulder and scopes stuffed into my joint. I will try to take pictures...well not me but the hubby, to show you what this process is about.

This is what is supposed to happen: I have a bone spur at the distal end of the clavicle that is to be removed. The surgeon is also going to open up the space in the joint by taking a piece of the acromium as well. This should help the joint move more freely.

He is also going to manipulate the frozen shoulder by forcing the scar tissue that has formed in the capsule that surrounds the shoulder by moving the arm while I am under sedation. This will release the scar tissue allowing the arm to move freely...he will then clean it out.

He will inspect the rest of the shoulder structure looking specifically for tears in the rotator cuff. If he founds any then he will repair them.

If all goes well, I will be out of surgery within 30 to 45 minutes and home within a couple of hours. I am to start physical therapy Wednesday.

I don't know how soon I will be back here as of course it is my dominant side affected. I don't know if I will be able to type or even if I will feel like it. But I will somehow keep you posted or be in touch.

Wish me luck!

This is where I will be spending my days and nights until further notice

Beautiful Places

To this day, I do not know where I found the strength to move one foot in front of the other. It was as if I was on auto pilot doing the things I was supposed to do. I made the arrangements for her burial, there was no funeral. She wanted her cremains to be buried in my brother's grave.

In fact, she wanted me to steal by dark of night and dig the hole myself and just dump her into his grave. I would have done it...except it had snowed five inches in the Arizona desert the night before and the sandy earth was frozen. So for a mere $235.00 the cemetery was willing to open his grave and place her inside. I paid my money and I assume she is there resting with him as she wished to be.

I tried to do as she wished. I tried to anticipate what she would have wanted. We didn't know she was going to die. It was sudden and unexpected. So when I found myself standing in her home looking at the things she had collected over the years I tried to do what she wanted and what I thought would be best.

My mother was a planner...at least as best as could be expected. She died 20 years to soon...only 61. But she had already seen enough death in her own life that she knew certain things should be done to make it easier on the living.

Her personal affairs were mostly in order. Beyond that, she had made lists of her personal belongings and what and to whom they were to go to. Things like: "Patrick is to get the curved wooden bench," "Lucy gets the platform rocker." This made some things so much easier.

But then there was the unexpected...some good, some bad. The handmade cards from all of us when we were kids...the art we had done in school...the autopsy report from my other brother's death. There were finds that shed light on the life she was living 2,000 miles from me...a life she did not share with me, did not want me to know about. What to do with those things?

It is that way when someone dies. You find out details about their life you may not know existed. You are thrust into the most intimate details. You sift through their belongings with no pretense of privacy. Some things make you sad...some make you happy. Some things you are glad to know...others you wish you did not.

Among many of the things, I found out my mother was cross stitching and quilting. I found a quilt she had been working on that was about 3/4 the way finished. I folded it up and brought it home with me thinking I might finish it someday.

Someday turned into years. I had done nothing and wasn't going to. So I took it to a place where a group of Amish and Mennonite woman make and finish quilts. It took them a year to do the work...but it was worth it. They did a magnificent job.

This quilt now lays atop a bed, a bed that sits in the room my parents shared when I was a child. A room I have done to celebrate the life of my mother. In it are things that remind me of her and her life along with other family mementos.

Shutter Sisters today talks about celebrating the beauty in your own home...so I am celebrating the beauty of my mother's quilt. It isn't fancy or particularly well quilted...but it was her last surprise gift to me. I have created a beautiful room around it...a room where the sun shines bright, the colors make me happy and the memories warm my heart.

What beauty do you celebrate in your home?

click to enlarge

The picture you see in this photo is of my mother and her brother, Tom. I think she must be about three and he about five. I had it printed from one of my grandfather's old negatives I found in an old box of photos.

A Dead Man's Treasures

As I walked the aisles, I cannot help but go back in my mind to those times when my heart was broken, my vision clouded by tears and my mind unable to process nary a thing going on around me. Yet, I was expected to make decisions...important ones, crucial ones. I did...some of them were good, some not so much. But who the hell can hold you responsible during times like that?

I pick up objects and wonder, "who did this belong to? How did it make its way here? For I am in an antique store where the life of those who have passed gather to tell stories through the objects they have left behind " One such thing...trophies, NRA rifle and pistol matches from the 50's and 60's. Who did they belong to and why are they there? Does the family of the owner not feel proud enough to continue to display the achievement of their loved one anymore?

More than the things...the photos....the old sepia toned photos of the young and old alike. I am struck by piles and piles of them. Images lost, people lost...unknown to the strangers who walk these passageways of the past. I look at these faces and my heart cries out, "you had a life, a story, a tale that should be told to the generations that come after you.

But I shouldn't be so judgemental. For I too have found myself sitting among the belongings of a loved one. In fact, I have found myself sitting among the belongings of all of my loved ones in years past. It is a hideous event that words cannot describe.

Things surround you...and they are things...wood, glass, metal and much of it means nothing for you have just endured something that you cannot believe is possible. You know something has to be done with these things, yet sense and reason and practicality are not in your vocabulary let alone you mind.

So you do what think is best and hope you make sound decisions. You keep what is important to you. You keep the things that have family history. And you know what...you will always have regrets. There will be that one thing you let go because your mind just can't comprehend it all.

It is impossible to keep the entire lives of those we have loved and lost. We have to let some of it go. The decision then becomes to where. Of course, many can benefit from clothing and the like. Friends should always be thought of too. And the antique stores...well I guess that is always an option.

Creative Photograpy #15 - Photo Hunter Reflection

Click to enlarge

When Nature meets Technology

This is my 3rd entry for the 15th Creative Photography. I shot this photo along a river that runs at the bottom of my street. I love the way the light pole mixes with the trees as if it is planted right along side of them. Oh and of course it is a Reflection...my favorite subject to shoot!

Update: I have also added this to Photo Hunter this morning as the theme is Reflection! How convenient was that!

The Apple of My Eye

The guest writer today on Shutter Sisters is Jane Maynard. She speaks of the beauty of food. While I have had my own experiences with food, it is not mine I would like to share...it is my son's.

It is he who is the culinary artist in our family. Our oldest makes his living taking Mother Nature's raw product and creating that which delights the eye and nourishes the body. His clients pay handsomely for his talent and are rewarded with delicacies that dance upon their tongues.

Here is just a sample of his talent...I hope you enjoy (and wipe the drool off your chin!)

Some Things Are Black and White

It is just a book from a middle school library. Probably not worth more than about $10 to $15. What would you do if you found it in a hotel room under the bed?

Would you be concerned about the student who lost the book and want that student to not get charged for the lost book? So concerned that you would take the time to write a note, put the book in an envelope and spend $3.21 to get it back to the school where it belonged?

Tharen was...Thanks Tharen. Jayshawna really appreciates what you did. She was staying at the hotel because her parents were separated and she and her mom were living there for a short time.

We appreciate it because we got a book back..but we appreciate it for more than that...you took care of one of our kids when things were tough.

There is a great teaching moment for all of us here: In a world where things are gray and sometimes the lines between right and wrong are blurred, this one was clearly black and white.

Living Life Large

I would like to point you to something I found by accident: From The Pearl of Africa.

This blog is being written by a young mid-western college student who is studying in Uganda, Africa. I think it is captivating. I can't imagine what it would be like to give up the comforts of home to go live among these people. I shall do so through her. Oh to be young again.

Please check it out...I think you too will be mesmerized.

The Decision is Made

Chronic pain in not fun. It distorts your mind, your body and your soul. It changes the way you look at life, at people, at yourself. It controls your thoughts, your actions and your desires. Chronic pain will turn you into someone you do not recognize as yourself.

In the beginning of the summer, I noticed a small ache in my right shoulder. I tried to ignore it until the ache began to keep me awake at night and I noticed I was losing the range of motion in my arm. In September I sought medical attention.

I am a relatively bright girl with a more than adequate understanding of the body and medicine. But it has been an unbelievable challenge to understand what is happening to my body and sift through the information that has been given to me. Not only to understand it, but to make decisions on how to proceed with the best treatment for the problem.

Dr. #1 diagnosed severe subscapularis tendonopathy, AC bone spurs and bicepital tendonopathy. He wants to 'take down the tendon', grind off the bone spurs and reroute the biceps tendon. In other words, major surgery. But I am not sure how that solves the fact that my arm does not move. On to Dr. #2.

Dr. #2 makes more sense. He says, 'you have a classic case of frozen shoulder'. It is definitely frozen. My arm barely moves and what motion I have is extremely painful. He says surgery is the worst thing I can do. He says 'wait is out'. It will heal itself. Caveat? It will take 1-2 years. But with time and a positive attitude I will 'get through this'.

I do the research and I think Dr. #2 is right on target. I believe I have frozen shoulder. Somewhere along the line I sustained an injury that caused me to guard it and then it started to freeze. There are three stages to this syndrome: freezing (very painful, loss of range), frozen (not so painful, totally frozen) and thawing. I am still 'freezing' and it has been 6 months.

The pain is unbelievable. At its best, it is like a constant toothache. At its worst, it takes me to my knees and tears are falling almost daily. I cannot lift my arm above 90 degrees to the front or to the side. I cannot reach behind me at all or across the front of my body. Sleep is almost non-existent. I am living on pain killers...my attitude is not so positive. Enter Dr. #3.

Dr. #3 says, "you have an insidious bone spur at your AC joint." I knew about the bone spur but no one else seemed concerned about it. You can see it on the xray. It is pointy and pokes its way down from my collarbone (clavicle). Dr.#3 seems to think this is what caused the initial injury to my shoulder that caused it to freeze. A big bone spur scraping across the muscles and tendons every time I move my shoulder...might cause some issues I guess.

Dr. #3 seems to think that without getting rid of the spur, my shoulder will never thaw. He also thinks that over time I will end up with bigger problems...a complete rotator cuff tear. Oh and he can speed up that thawing process too. Great news don't you think? At what cost I ask.

Well surgery of course. Just take a little nappy, let him scope my arm, grind off the end of my clavicle and acromium, manipulate my arm around (fancy way of saying force my arm to move by ripping the frozen muscle) vacuum out all the crap and viola! I am cured.

So what to do? Three Drs., three opinions, three treatment plans. How do you make a decision? I will tell you how I made it. I made it based on the quality of my life. Right now it sucks! Pain is my constant companion and vicodan is my best friend.

I can't live a year to two years in pain. I can't let a surgeon re-engineer my shoulder. So I will go with the one who makes the most sense. I will solve a potential problem as well as an existing one. The bone spur has to go. I will also take my chances with pushing Mother Nature and allow Dr. #3 to force the shoulder. There are risks (breaking the humerous is one) but I can't take this anymore.

Surgery is scheduled for next Tuesday. There won't be a Thanksgiving with all the trimmings this year...at least not on Thursday. We will celebrate on the following Sunday instead. My son the chef is cooking this year. The food will be wonderful.

So I have hope...hope for change! I hope I can change my clothes without pain by the time my husband has his left shoulder replaced in December. Oh, did I forget to mention that? Yea, it's going to be a long long winter!

Fake - HSMSHS

Update: I wanted to see if anyone looking at this photo would figure out the second part of the 'fake'. Not only are the flowers fake...the photo is too...It is a reflection of the image...a fake.

Fake

Have you been fooled into believing something was real when it was not? HSMSHS has asked us to post something fake today...this is my fake. There is more to it than meets the eye...can you guess what it is? Fake....don't let yourself be duped by things that are not real!

Thumbs Up(date)

Many of you were so kind and empathic about the injury my daughter sustained to her thumb recently. I wanted to update you on the healing progress and thank you for your kind words and thoughts.

Healing it is. The stitches came out about a week ago and the wound has closed up. She is very sore, as you can imagine, but is expected to regain full use of her thumb. It will take a minimum of two months to do so.

She is bothered by the pain of course, due to the broken bone beneath the thumb nail. She is also bothered by the very funny sensations she experiences as the nerves are trying to regenerate. The joint is very stiff and she is having difficulty bending it, but that should resolve. All in all things have gone well.

I shall never forget the sound of her voice that night. I shall never forget the feeling in my stomach when I saw her injury. And this was just a thumb...how lucky we were.

Day before the stitches came out

A Shutter Sisters Manic Monday Combo

Today's Manic Monday word is Season and Shutter Sisters is lamenting the beginning of winter when the cold and bleakness that is the season finds us burrowed in our houses with nary a picture to take.

When the deary wet gray weather is upon us here in the midwest, I find my house takes on a new smell. It is the smell of the outdoors. The smell of burning timber, soot and ash. It is the season when logs are burning in the fireplace at a rate that is constant.

The fireplace in not very efficient...it is more for ambiance than warmth. I sit in front of it so close, my clothes are in danger of combustion and my skin is so hot it is nearly painful. But this is the season that warmth is hard to come by and the colors of crimson, orange, and yellow have left the landscape and this is where I find these things I so crave....warmth, color.

So I hole myself up in my home and I create this sea of flames in the concrete cavern of my wall and once again dream of a season when Mother Nature's landscape will provide me with her palate of colors to shoot and the sun will warm the terra firma.

Creative Photography - Shiny Balls

Click photo to enlarge (you won't be disappointed)

In The Looking Glass

Reflections fascinate me. Is what you are looking at the reality or the image? If I had cropped this photo would you have known you were looking at a reflection in a giant mirror?

Eyes of a Child

What do they see...these little people we call children? A perspective so different from the jaded one we adults have come to view. To be so fascinated with something as simple as an ear. Shutter Sisters asks, "When was the last time you really looked at the world around you through the eyes of a child?"

He discovered her ear.

Games

HSMSHS

I don't feel much like working today so I think I will just play games all day. What about you? What is your favorite game?

Another Rememberance

You would be 50 today. But that wasn't part of your plan was it? I always knew you wouldn't make 'old bones'. But I never guessed it would happen the way it did.

Mom was wistful you weren't born on Tom's birthday, only missed it by a couple of hours...again you had different plans. But she was proud you were a Veteran's Day baby.

You always did march to your own drummer didn't you.

Blog note:

Update: I am sorry I did not explain the unfortunate events that took the life of my Uncle. He was killed during an army mortar exercise in Hamberg, Germany. The shell exploded before it was intended. Sharpnel penetrated his back and entered his heart killing him instantly.

The essay below was written by my beloved Granny. It was written for an english class assignment in 1957 when she returned to college at the age of 51 to get her teaching degree after her son was killed.

My mother and I found the essay in her belongings after she died in 1985. We had no idea she had ever written it, let alone shared her grief with strangers. She never shared it with us. You see, Granny was not a demonstrative woman. She was that no nonsense kind of gal that survived life instead of lived it.

I wanted to share it as a way to remember all of those who have served our country. All of those who keep us free. All of those of take on special endeavors while they are doing so and especially the families of those who so graciously allow the ones you love to leave you, be it for a short time or forever.

We honor you and remember you and keep you in our hearts.


oh by the way: she got a B+ on the essay

Remembering...

A Symbol of Spring

By

Martha W. Salyers

March 4, 1957

I cannot remember what Spring meant to me in years gone by - I can remember only the Spring of last year. It was a time of the year in which my son was killed in a tragic accident; a time of the year when Spring turned into a Winter of despair and defeat.

He was many things to many people; and all that he was to others, he was to me - and more. He was the small boy who had once spent his only nickel to buy a bag of jelly beans for my birthday present; he was the young man who, on his twenty-first birthday, spent all the money he had to give me a gift of a beautiful silver teapot, which I had coveted without any hope of owning. He was the little boy who did not need to be taught courtesy and consideration for others; they were instinctive with him. He was the young man who had no recognition of differences in race, color nor creed, who daily practiced doing unto others as he would have them do unto him. There was always time for him to give help and he was happiest when he could be of service to someone. Our lean years were brightened by his good cheer and by his assurance to me that we would "make it." He was the son who insisted that I stop working and go with him to live in Germany while he completed a tour of duty there.

He was the boy who early decided on an army career and never deviated from this singleness of purpose. All his thoughts and actions were in preparation for the time when he would become an army man. He had no illusions about the small part he would play in the drama of army life, but he was determined to play that part to the best of his ability. That he was successful can best be illustrated by the many tributes paid to him at the time of his death. Upon learning of his death, the entire Corps of Cadets of the University of Cincinnati asked for the privilege of conducting the funeral service of their former corps commander. While services for him were being conducted at Arlington National Cemetery, his entire battalion of officers, troops, wives and children marched in formation to a memorial service for him in Germany. At that service his battalion commander said of him, "This service today is a humble tribute to a soldier of inexhaustible energies and fortitude. Those of us who knew him as an associate, a leader, a friend, an officer as well as a soldier, found him to be a shining example of spirit, initiative, conscientiousness, and faithfulness. His deeds and vivid demonstrations will be living examples of standards difficult to equal by any man now or hereafter. It is the priceless good fortune of each one of us to have served with him." I think he must have smiled his big beautiful smile at these words and was even more pleased when his Jewish friends and associates held their own special memorial service for him. These tributes were of little comfort to me; I could only think of the continuing good of his life had he been left with us.

With Ecclesiastes, I thought, "What does man gain by all the toil at which he toils under the sun? ...All things are full of weariness; a man can not utter it...so I hated life, because what is done under the sun was grievous to me; for all is vanity and a striving after wind." The winter months of blackness and despair stayed with me. "I said of laughter, 'It is mad,' and of pleasure, 'What use is it?'

One day a letter came to me from Sister Rosa, the director of an orphanage in Germany, which my son had befriended. Her letter began, "In front of me at my desk stands a lovely picture of your dear son. A big picture was honored in an unforgettable ceremony in the presence of high American officials and our own member of our Work here; also Bishop Landgraf. Director Kroner placed a wreath around the picture and solemnly your beloved son looks down at us and our Work we are trying to do here. I prepared special music and song for the services of such a solemn ceremony and it would have done you heart good to witness it. We will never forget your son and will always think of him and pray for him with grateful hearts."

The snow of my winter began to melt. Soon another letter came from Tom's company commander telling me of a fund of almost three thousand dollars which had been established by officers and troops in memory of Tom. This money was to be used to carry on his work at the orphanage. Now I could see the green of the grass which had been growing under the snow of my Winter.

On Tom's birthday in November, the Sisters sent a card they had made for me in honor of his birthday. I letter from Sister Rosa followed telling me of the special services they had held for him. In her words, "The Sisters and all the youth and help in the Home gathered together in the beautifully decorated big room here. We took his picture off the wall and decorated it with flowers and candles and began our humble celebration of love and thanks. We sang and recited and the tones of Mozart and Hayden went through the room. We sang about 'The Good Comrade' and played on the flute and piano; we sang hymns from Gertrude von Lefont. It was all so beautiful and touching it is hard to describe. The little children sang a birthday song to Uncle Tom; they expressed their joy in their own way that Uncle Tom came into their lives. One song came after the other as only little ones can sing. Then silently we prayed and blew out the candles except for a few which kept watch through the night. In the evening, we went to the Chapel for prayers and silent meditation and that is how we closed the day of love and honor on your dearly beloved son's twenty-fourth birthday." This letter brought a ray of sunshine and a suggestion of blues skies.

Over the period since Tom's death, we have tried to carry on his work by sending clothing and money to the children in the orphanage. As each letter comes to tell us of their gratitude, my Winter comes a little closer to Spring. I do not know why death came so early to him, but I am consoled when I see the good that has come from it. It is the fulfillment of his hope that he could live on through the good that he had done on earth.

Spring means to me the sum of a life as lived well - the life of my son. His short years on earth are as the short month of Spring; his smile is in the warmth of the sun. His good deeds are the crocus which blooms so early; his cheery manner is in the song of the cardinal. A soft breeze is the gentle touch of his hand. Children fly their kites and I see his Spirit free and soaring over upward into the blue of the sky; the kite's string is a symbol of the unbroken link between him and me.

"Who is like the wise man?

And who knows the interpretation of a thing?

A man's wisdom makes his face shine,

and the hardness of his countenance is changed."

Ecclesiastes 8:1

Bubbles of Fun!

HSMSHS

CLEAN

I AM PISSED!

The headlines read:

Slain Dad Taught Boy, 8, to Use Gun

What it should say it this:

Boy 8 Kills Dad For Unknown Reason, Investigation Continues

But there is no headline in that is there? It is just not sexy enough.

The story is not in the fact that this boy was taught to use a gun. That has nothing to do with his reason for shooting his father. And by the way, what eight year old does not know how to pull a trigger on a gun be it a toy or not?

This story is not about guns. This story is about what could have been so wrong in this young boy's life that he would even consider shooting his father in the first place. Why aren't the reporter's focusing on that? Why aren't they digging into the "calls of domestic violence at the Romero home in the past" and including that in the article?

My guess is this kid was a victim of his own environment and finally got tired of it.

And the authorities are pushing to try him as an adult?

Are you F***ing kidding me?

'Sensible' CHANGE

Not surprisingly, just before and now after the election, many gun stores across the nation are seeing an increase in sales of both firearms and supplies. I will even admit to stroking that particular part of retail on this past Monday.

Many of us "gun enthusiast's" are concerned that once the new President-Elect and his Democratic counterparts take office, there will be CHANGE...yes CHANGE...in our existing firearms laws.

Now these wonderful new leaders would have us believe that they would be looking to CHANGE the existing laws to reflect more 'sensible' laws. After all, CHANGE is good, right? And we all want 'sensible' laws right?

Sensible...dictionary.com defines it as "having, using, or showing good sense or sound judgment". Who could argue with good sense and sound judgement? Synonyms for 'sensible' include...intelligent, prudent, rational. Again, who could argue with gun laws that are intelligent, prudent and rational? Not me!

I look at 'sensible' gun laws like 'sensible' Shoes...yes Shoes. Now stay with me.... My mother always told me to wear 'sensible' shoes. Well what are sensible shoes? Depends on who is doing the wearing now doesn't it?

This was my mother's idea of sensible shoes:

This is my idea of 'sensible' shoes!

My point...'Sensible' is a subjective term that means something different to each person who is interpreting it. I wear those shoes with just about everything...jeans, dresses. skirts, capri's. I wear them until the snow flies and I can't stand the cold on my toes any longer. Is that 'sensible'? Some would say no. I might stub my toe, break my ankle, catch cold or subject myself to a plethora of other dangers from the wearing high heeled shoes.

But I sure don't want some dimwitted law maker legislating what shoes are 'sensible' any more than I want them legislating what laws are sensible when it comes to the freedom to protect myself and my family and what tools I choose to use to do it with.

By the way...those heels are pretty deadly looking aren't they...how long before you think they are classified as lethal weapons?

HOPE!

I have HOPE........no really I do.






I have HOPE.............................................






for CHANGE.......yes CHANGE.






HOPE FOR CHANGE.....................................................






In my pocket at the end of the next four years....
I am not holding my breath

TGIF

Come watch with me the shaft of fire that glows

In yonder West: the fair, frail palaces,

The fading Alps and archipelagoes,

And great cloud-continents of sunset-seas.

- Thomas Bailey Aldrich, Sonnet--Miracles

Take Your Best Shot!

Tracey Clark of Shutter Sister asked a compelling question yesterday: "What has affected or changed your photography?"

As the daughter and granddaughter of professional photographers, it seemed as it there was nothing in my genetic make-up that had been passed on from either of these two men. I did not have the talent or the eye. Ah the eye...in fact it was the eye that caused me most of my problems.

I am very farsighted and my right eye is the worst. That and the fact my glasses/contact lenses do not correct my vision to 20/20 make things difficult. So looking through the lens and trying to focus the camera was always a challenge...I never knew what I was going to get.

When the self focusing cameras came along I was thrilled...just point and shoot. This amazing technology definitely affected my photography. Oh Happy Days! No more out-of-focus pictures! I saved so much money on film and my trash bin became lighter. My images sang along with Johnny Nash...they were clear like the rain had washed away the haze that once surrounded them.

But wait! Then came digital cameras, Photo Shop and laptop computers. Point, shoot, load, preview, adjust, delete/save, print. Every photo was exactly as I wanted it or it no longer existed. I could print or not print. I could crop out those pesky little nuances I did not want in the shot or turn a color shot into black and white. And it just takes a touch of a finger to a key. There is no stopping me!

So the question again: What has affected your photography?...Technology. It has made up for those things my body lacks...the ability to focus my one bad eye. But alas...it has not given me everything. Those things that make a great photographer great....that natural talent, I do not have it.

I look to learn it at every venture...composition, action shots, I am especially bad at those. I have a hard time seeing a photo where someone else may. I struggle with my minds eye, so to speak...the artist part of photography, and yes it is an art. But it is also an adventure and I love adventures.

So I strike out, never leaving my camera behind and I take pictures of things and people and places and stuff that may seem weird and odd and wonderful and bizarre. And people ask me things like "why were you on the ground praying?"

Well I was...sort of. I was praying for a great shot! But don't we all!

HSMSHS

Shimmer

I was out on the water today...peaceful, quiet, warm.l Away from the blah blah blah of campaign commercials and false promises on both sides.

Stay Grounded - Perspective - Creative Photography #15

Update November 3rd...I so loved experimenting with this project and the resulting photo (above), I decided to try my luck and enter it into the Creative Photography contest this week.




If you are the least bit interested in photography, I highly recommend you bop on over to Shutter Sisters. The site is full of information and assignments that gets you out and stretches your skills.

Leaf Perspectives is one such assignment. Just put your camera on the ground and shoot the world from the perspective of a fallen leaf. The goal is not to look at what you are shooting...oh so hard not to. Simple yes? Not so much. I got a lot of really bad shots for a very adequate few.

So off the hubby and I went yesterday to the local bike/walking path that parallels the river...to discover what a leaf sees when it falls. Of course I was not happy with just shooting those leaves happily lying on the ground. I wanted the ones in the water...forced by the current up against the rocks. I wanted to tell their story.

I was lucky I did not drop myself or my camera in the water as I treacherously stepped from one stone to the next trying to get the best shot. I was also lucky my camera did not take an afternoon plunge as it balanced ever so precariously on the rocks at water level getting just the right perspective.

But that is what makes these assignments so much fun. Doing something you never would normally do. Thinking outside of the box. Expanding you photographic mind.

So tell me what you think...but be kind. It was a first try.

Chasing the Blues

BLUE

Today is a beautiful fall day...the sun is shining and the fall colors are brilliant. It is a perfect day to mount the iron pony and chase the blues away!