I saw autumn in the misty morn

A thick fog blanketed my part of the world this morning and I just happened to have my camera with me.




The first thing I saw when I pulled into the school driveway was this spider web along the fence line.

I used the macro lens for these first two shots.

 

And then the school came into view.




You can hardly see the building from this vantage point, the fog was so thick.




It was a little difficult to get shots without cars because it was morning drop-off time.




The middle school flag brigade has already gotten their job done.




Parents were driving by and waving, many rolled down their windows to tell me either that they wished they had their cameras, or that I was lucky to have brought mine. I think many of us were awed at the beauty of this morning, and the school building enshrouded in the mist.




The mist and the dew thick on the grass made the morning special.




And I’m glad to call this place home.

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"I saw old Autumn in the misty morn
Stand, shadowless like Silence, listening
To Silence."
- Thomas Hood

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Weekly dose of George

I used to have this other blog, you know. It was called ‘A Picture A Day’ and I updated it religiously with a single photo daily from the summer of 2008 until December 2010. It got to the point where I hardly had time for this blog, let alone the other. So I gave it up.

And now it sits out in cyberspace; a lonely existence.

I’m fine with all that, but one of the things I miss the most from that blog was my Weekly Dose of George series. So in the spirit of trying to bring that element back and incorporate it into my Chronicles blog, my goal is to have a weekly photo of George with a brief explanation.

We’ll see how long this latest whim lasts, shall we?

Because I’m a person of many whims.




SHEEPISH

Taken this evening after being sternly spoken to by his master for chewing on a headless rabbit found under a bush.

Maybe I should explain.

My husband found the hapless bunny this morning while on a walk. It was lying under the tree that the juvenile Great Horned Owl frequents, so he kicked it under a nearby bush to get it out of the way. And this afternoon, curious George found it. And for a moment, he was in doggie heaven. (Ick).

Photo is SOOC (Straight Out Of Camera).

Respectfully submitted,

Yesterday, today, and last night

Have you noticed that I haven’t been posting as much lately? About a month ago, I said that I was going to try this. I’m making a conscious effort to stay off the computer a little more every day. My life has been so busy lately and this seems to be working for me.

Thank you for your comments in my last post. The rain seems to have {finally} ceased, and today is partly sunny. The flooding didn’t affect us too much in my area of the county, but over in Port Deposit the water is high. It’s nearly as high as it was in 1972 when Hurricane Agnes came through.  All 50 gates on the Conowingo Dam are all open today, or so I’ve heard, and my husband and I were thinking of taking a drive over there this morning but figured there’d be so many sightseers that we nixed the plan.
I have just a few photos to share with you, taken at different times of the week.





TUESDAY EVENING

Every night, for the past several months, we have heard a juvenile Great Horned Owl begging for food. I finally got a photo of him as he’s clinging to the branch of one of the highest trees on the property – a black walnut. It was windy that evening and he was having trouble holding on and we didn’t want to get too close, because he’s flown off before when he sees us. I know he’s begging for food because when we first heard the screech sound, I looked it up on the internet. Initially, we had no idea what was making the noise but we knew it must be a bird of some sort because it was so high in the trees.


Owlet calling for food


Scroll down to Great Horned Owl, then click on Nocturnal shriek. He screeches about every 30 seconds.

Although it can get on your nerves a little bit, I much prefer it to the sound of dirt bikes. It’s a thousand times better than that.




MONDAY AFTERNOON

Finches enjoying themselves at one of the bird baths. That’s my froggie sprinkler there. Wish it had been plugged in – that would have been fun to see.





LAST NIGHT

The moon rising yesterday evening, caught by my husband. The owlet was out there screeching too, in case you were wondering.





THIS MORNING

Taken through the window of the breakfast nook as I was having a bowl of cereal. Can you see the daddy long legs?

I’m not fat, I’m fluffy.

I keep telling myself this . . .

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And now for some questions . . . because inquiring minds want to know . . .

1. What did you have for breakfast today?
2. Do you have a nickname?
3. Favorite new song?
4. What is your favorite memory from this summer?
5. What are your weekend plans?

See you in the comments, my friends . . .

Everywhere I Go - Lissie

Rainy day, dream away

I really don’t have a lot to say today but wanted to pop in and see how you’re all doing out there.

It’s wet here in Maryland and to those in areas of extreme dry, oh how I wish I could send you some. My husband took the AC units out several weeks ago and for the most part it’s been pleasant, but today it’s absolutely muggy in this old house. And I almost wish I could turn on the AC.

I did a load of delicates last night and hung them on the drying rack and when I came home from work today, I discovered they were all still damp. They felt like I’d just taken them out of the washing machine.

“Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.”

I took this photo exactly 3 years ago today. We were living in Pennsylvania and a good drenching rain had just come through. Afterward, I found this praying mantis peeking out from among the impatiens.

I’ve never been the kind of girl who was afraid of bugs.

Sometimes I feel like a nut.

Sometimes I don’t.

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Nuts? Did someone say nuts?

Oh, false alarm.

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See? Toldja I didn’t have much to say.

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Until tomorrow then, my friends ~

Rainy Day ~ Jimi Hendrix

One of my husband’s favorite songs.

A silver chain of evening rain

It’s raining as I write this on the last evening of our long Labor Day weekend. It was a weekend spent quietly and tonight’s rain is soft and gentle and we have the windows open to the scent of it.

I worked on some photos for you.

Those little hummingbirds are quick.

But they know how to rest, as well.

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Tell me how many beads there are
In a silver chain
Of evening rain,
Unravelled from the tumbling main,
And threading the eye of a yellow star: -
So many times do I love again.

                                    ~Thomas Lovell Beddoes

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Here’s hoping you all have a wonderful week ahead.

Until later, my friends . . .

Welcome, September

It’s a three-day weekend for me, and after the hustle and bustle of preparing for a whole new school year with a new Director and a first week back, so busy . . .

I was ready for the time off. And I welcome the month of September.




On Saturday, I did chores. And I’m proud to say that I now have a gleaming kitchen floor to show for it. That was my cleaning goal this weekend, although I did much more.

As I sat reading a book under the dogwood tree on Sunday, I realized that the dirt bike family must be away for the weekend, and it was pure bliss because the only things I could hear were the following:

The rustling of the trees in the soft breeze.

The drone of a faraway lawnmower.

The steady cluck of a red-bellied woodpecker, hidden in the branches of the dogwood.

The turn of a page in the book I was reading.





I use feathers as bookmarks. Because I’m such a romantic.

That’s not entirely true. Ok, it’s mostly true but the fact remains that feathers are perfect as bookmarks and Lord knows we have enough of them around here.




I cut some spent morning glories and some other vines from the garden and put them in this little glass jar I’ve had for years.

It was full of strawberry preserves when I bought it long ago. But you can get some unique jars here:

Specialty Bottle




I’m reading a book with Ireland as a backdrop, by Jan Karon called “In the Company of Others”. The scenery is splendid.




The peace and quiet here is sublime.




Went to see The Help yesterday afternoon with friends. The book was great, and the movie does it justice for the most part, in my opinion. I cried several times. Emma Stone was fine in her role as Skeeter. But Ron Howard’s daughter, Bryce Dallas Howard, was scathingly perfect as Hilly. The casting of Sissy Spacek as Hilly’s mother was brilliant, but it was Viola Davis and Octavia Spencer as both Aibileen and Minny respectively, who stole the movie.

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You is kind. You is smart. You is important.

~Aibileen Clark to little Mae Mobley, in The Help

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Until tomorrow, my friends . . .

Important information here

A friend sent this to me today. She’s a law enforcement volunteer and wanted to get the word out to the public.

 

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As a law enforcement volunteer, I have been approached by several people lately wanting to know how to identify a Meth Lab.  Following are four photos.

 

I think it's pretty obvious which one is the Meth Lab.

 

I hope this helps.  Let me know if I can be of any further service in this matter.

 

 

 

I laughed out loud after seeing this. It was just what I needed.

 

I’m still reading my comments from the previous post and wanted to take a moment to thank all of you for responding to yesterday’s rant. Honestly, I rarely complain even when things aren’t so great, so thanks for your understanding.

 

What really surprised me was how common the problem is. You know the old saying, “Why can’t we all just get along”? We can’t because we’re all so different. And some people just don’t give a damn.

 

As I write this, the dirt bikes are going. But it isn’t nearly as loud today. Oh, darn. I think I just jinxed myself. So I’m going to take that statement back!

 

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So what are your plans for the weekend? Inquiring minds want to know.

The good, the bad, and the ugly

I am almost at my wit’s end and I swear, I am nearly ready to resort to drinkin’ but it’s not a weekend and you know how I am with rules that I set for myself.

It started after work, which by the way, was inordinately busy.




I had some errands to run which took extra time because the traffic in the nearby college town rivaled my recent trip to New York City.

I kid you not. It was nuts, I tellya. Bumper-to-bumper.




And then I came home, expecting some peace and quiet.

And all I can hear since the moment I opened the car door is the awful neighbors who have moved into a rental home that lies along our driveway.

They have dirt bikes. And they have turned their yard into a dirt bike track.

When they first moved here about 3 weeks ago, I went over to talk to them to tell them to please stay off the  property here. I told them I didn’t want to call the police before coming over to discuss it politely with them. The husband was very nice and apologized profusely. And he’s kept to his promise to stay off the property. The noise today, however, is jarring my preserves (as my mother used to say).

I believe one of the bikes is not running properly, and the way to get it to do so is to keep using the throttle over and over and over and over and . . .

Oh, my God help me.




Last week, I called the county sheriff’s office to question the laws regarding noise and the installation of a dirt bike track on your rental property. They told me that as far as the track goes, they were basically within their rights to do so. But if it got too loud, to call them and they’d pay a visit. They did suggest, however, that I find out the name of the property owner and give them a heads up about the mud hole that used to be their front yard.

It used to be a lovely yard, but when I went over there, the grass was gone and it was nothing but mud and dirt.

Today I found out the name of the property owner.




My husband is not as annoyed as I and he suggested I go take a walk.

Is he kidding? All I can hear are dirt bikes!!!

It is just so sad . . . to have this piece of hallowed and historic ground on which we live, for it to be marred by this awful noise.




And to make things worse, today our cat killed a young red bellied woodpecker. We are both so angry with her. It was just the icing on the cake of my shitty day.

Damn cat.

Damn low class neighbors and their loud-ass dirt bikes.
Oh, my God. I am on a tear. Sorry about that.

Photos were taken on a walk yesterday which, for some reason, was much quieter. And again, my sincere apologies for the cursing and the rant. It ain’t always sweetness and light here.