There and Back Again, A Picture Journey

The Stockings Were Hung....

by the chimney with care, but that's not the issue here.

Somebody knows there's a new rawhide bone under the tree and he can't wait.

He's been standing and sitting sentinel all night, barking and whining. It's pitiful.

Only a few more hours to wait.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.

Happy whatever you celebrate, where ever you are.

Happy New Year too.

Sunday Snapshots

Scenes from this week:

Cookies for the work cookie exchange:

Saturday sunrise en route to ACT testing:

Sunday's wonderful frost show:

A lovely walk in the woods with the husband and the dog:

First, I squawked at my husband for wrecking my nature shot, then I laughed, then we worked as a team to stomp off this amazing shelf fungus to bring home for my next crazy project. It was a very good morning.

See you next week.

xo

Scenes from this week....

My work schedule gives me one work week morning off, and for the past two weeks, they have involved taking a large fluffy allergy prone dog to the vet for ear checks and shots. Thanks to a recurrent yeast infection in his ear (?) we now feed him the ridiculously expensive all natural stuff, no wheat, no corn, no dairy. There might be a lactose intolerance involved too, but I haven't the heart to find out. How do you not share your cheese with this face? I'll worry about lactose intolerance some other time. I'm weak.

After the vet, to make up for all the indignities, we went to the woods to for a walkabout. We saw lots.

The best things we saw wouldn't be photographed. A pair of great horned owls, roosting in separate trees, each silently swooped away from us as we walked through their patch of old forest. This is the second time I have seen them - the first time, I wasn't ready with the camera, and this time I was, but it still didn't matter. You can't see them until they fly, and they are swift and eerily silent, and blend in so well with the trees that my photos are of no use. 

Trust me, they were there.

I'm strangely taking snaps out the car window again - I find the scenery compelling. This is the first half of my ride to work. I know all the back roads to avoid stop lights, strip malls and traffic.

I drive past some amazing farms, and on one new shortcut, I found a delightful, whimsical assortment of sculptures in the pasture. It is as hard to get a decent shot of my favorite - a crow pulling a worm from the ground - as it is to catch a great horned owl with my camera. Something is always moving too quickly.

My commute ends at the center of the second largest city in Illinois. The economic downturn has hit it very hard. Entire blocks are vacant, boarded up, waiting for something, anything to happen. I guess that's what we are, the something that is happening.  A few jobs to go with the masses we are educating would go a long way toward helping, in my little opinion.

This is the view from the top of the parking garage, looking out over the river to the east. There is a strange dichotomy to our new construction and the old, sad buildings and vacant stores and halfway houses that surround us.  Of course there is a casino. In Illinois, where there is water, there is always a casino.

The other view, to the west. This lovely building with the ornamental onion top is vacant and sad. I've learned that it is the Hobbs building, built in 1892, and it used to be a furniture and a casket store.

 It's very strange going to work as the sun is setting, while most of the world is heading home. I amuse myself with the random scenery. The first time I saw this Christmas display, I almost choked on my coffee. It's bizarre, and again, I took a really crappy picture. If I can ever get a good one, I'll repost it, but they usually have their cars blocking it. Do you see the polar bear leering over tiny baby Jesus? What's missing from the photo is the snowman and Santa that bracket the creche. I imagine the owners are pretty happy with their decor, and don't see the unintentional humor in the composition and arrangement. I do. It makes my drive, 5 days a week, along with the giant crow, the lovely farms and the midwestern sky.

Lastly, we had our first snowfall of the year, followed by our first ARE YOU KIDDING ME??????

cold snap of 6 degrees with a brisk wind to chill us to the bone. Furry dogs don't seem to mind, but  the humans did a bit of complaining. The lovely snow took a little of the winter bite away.

Have a nice week, and I'll check in next weekend with the interesting things I find between now and then.

Worry Stones

Vicki Lane's post about things she keeps in jars got me thinking about the things I keep in jars and bowls and vessels in my home.

I'm partial to natural objects, especially rocks and shells, sea glass and fossils, bugs and leaves. It's a family tradition, to notice treasure laying about and collect for safekeeping. It's also a family eccentricity to use them as decor.

I admit to going a bit overboard on the rocks, but I've had a lifetime to amass this collection - my dad got me hooked when I was a little girl. This is my collection of Lake Superior stones.
(Pay no attention to the large dead moth on top of the rocks.)

They look a lot better wet, so the colors pop:

When I had kids, one of the really cool things we did was revisit my childhood with my parents, gemming in the hills of North Carolina, where treasure is just waiting to be found. We found lots: ruby, garnet, emerald, aquamarine, topaz, tourmaline, amethyst, and my favorite rock name of all time, adventurine.

I keep this hefty collection on the piano, and I'm surprised the glass hasn't given way under the weight.

I keep this big honking bowl full by the tv. I really don't know what to do with them any more. Dad used to polish rocks for fun, but I don't have the patience for a hobby of that long a time frame. It takes a really, really long time to polish rocks. I like having a pile or two around in their natural jagged form, because I like the symbolism and the symmetry of having them set next to the polished ones. I like to know that with enough time and abrasion and worry, you can turn something painful into something smooth and comforting.

This tiny jar is my favorite of Dad's polished stones. The blue beach glass is almost the shape of a heart. He found the little soft, smooth white ones in a stream bed in Delaware, and they were among his favorite creations, because they were so plain an unassuming until they were polished into almost pearls. The blue and white one is the one I carry in my pocket  for my worry stone when my edges are feeling jagged and rough. I  like it's stunning blue, because he had some seriously blue eyes that just sparkled, and it reminds me most of him.

This week has been a bit jagged and moody for me, and I've been wallowing in my emotions more than I care to. So it must be time to put a shiny rock in my pocket and carry on.

Thanks to Vicki, Mary, Angella, Rubye, Jan, Robin, SJ and all my blog friends who help me polish my edges smooth.