Meet Rocky

posted 11 days ago

I met Rocky yesterday for the first time. He had just awakened from his nap and was full of ginger and spice. I really do love puppies, but I was there to take his picture, which is difficult with him scrambling all over me. After a bit his mama, the people kind of mama, brought out a little bag of treats. ” Oh boy! oh boy! Do you want me to sit?” Well, he did not say that in words, but with a puppy, actions tell the story. So Rocky sat, posed, looking upward toward Mama. That was not quite what I wanted for more than a few shots, but there were other times when he squirreled around this way and that way and I was able to get something that looked like the puppy that I wanted to capture for my next project, a computer painting. I thought I would have to take a hundred shots to get the picture I wanted. As it turned out, I decided I must have a good one in all that I had taken so I quit and came home. I put Rocky’s pictures in my computer and found I had only 99 photos. I wondered if that would be enough. It was enough. I found this nice head shot among his photos. It was perfect. want’a see the results? Well probably not, but here it is anyway. 

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Just another Winter day

A perfect day to feed the birds, watch them for any special ones that I may want to photograph.  Since there was nothing, out of the ordinary today, it left the path clear.  Finish pinning my Crater Lake quilt , wind a bunch of bobbins to match the back, and get started.  This quilt is about 6 ft by 7 ft, and has a lot of trees and things  that are a pain to stitch down.  I am taking that attitude that the boughs are rough, and if they look rough when I get them stitched down, that is good.  I am sure there are folks who would struggle to make it smooth and perfect.  I have decided that not smooth is just perfect.  I got a lot done today.  finished at least half the trees.

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Big. white , cold ,fluffy flakes
Swirling  softly round and round
And very soon go smashing
Splat onto  the frozen ground.

Coating the trees with white
cold, heavy, pushing down,
like brows arching for a fight,
Those laden branches frown.

Bent bows provide a home,
Shelter little sparrow, tiny finch,
And quipping quail, feathers fluffed ,
All safe from  colds harshest pinch.

So white  ahead one cannot see
But there is  that cheery call,
‘Tis unmistakable, Chick-a-Dee-dee
As now, cold, blankets their world.

Just another day, so gruff and dark
We build a fire for a warming light.
But the little snowbird must strive
to find some morsels, and survive.
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