suet
Originally uploaded by Aunt Owwee
it's a cold cold winter up here
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”
The one good thing, and I do believe it is the ONLY good thing I can think of now, about 0F temperatures is that it slows the birds down enough that I can get their pictures.
How's your neck of the woods faring?
And then it was December: the third snowiest on record for the area. Beautiful, but a little wearying.
Thanks for humouring me!
Harvest time. I was able to observe it and photograph it this year. And I was able to find another witness to it.
So much to learn. This is second attempt at a scarecrow. Also, the two little pumpkins are my volunteers. I tossed them back into the area from where they came: will history repeat itself?
The gladiola just make me smile! And a new retirement business plan is devised.
Big family event of the year . . . Mom turns 80!
The flowers are coming in. These are the hollyhocks, tied to pitchforks.
Storms and tornadoes roar through mid-Michigan. The barn door does not fare well.
I had become a member at Perspective2 Studio to learn about lighting in December. In February I did my first shoot with live models. Those nieces sure come in handy.
I'm reviewing my flickr pics, in case you're wondering. Picking one from each month that tells me something.
January of 2008. I had turned 56. Fifty-six is an age that is fraught in our family. So I went to Lake Michigan to find myself.