View allAll Photos Tagged Fidget
I was walking past a bramble bush by the towpath on the Exeter canal when I heard a 'check-chack-chack' alarm type of call. I thought it was probably a Blackbird but suddenly this little Wren popped on to the top of the bush, sat for about two seconds then disappeared. I decided to stay to see if he/she would pop out again. Ten minutes later and three more fleeting glimpses, these are the result.
We'll dig a hole any old time, but this time of year we like to dig them deeper.
Mouse came down from the pasture and did some work on Fidget's project, enlarging it toward the west, turning the perfect circle into a ragged kidney shape.
After Mouse left for the day, Fidget carefully nudged the mousebegotten dirt pile back into her hole and smoothed grass over it.
She rested on the disturbed earth for awhile, then dug again according to her original plan.
A person has a particular vision of the perfect hole, and it doesn't do to let others (particularly relatives) become involved.
Fidget, radiant with the spirit of the season, wishes everyone a joyous holiday and a happy new year.
We're Christmasing in the little hamlet of Nose Hair, South Carolina, heading back to Pennsylvania tomorrow.
I like the randomness of taking pictures of the spinner in action. :-)
Tutorial for the finger spinner: youtu.be/ZM0goEv5mW0
Show weight for a Great Pyrenees female is 85-120 pounds (38-54 kg). Fidget, who has always gotten plenty to eat, weighs 75 pounds, making her a wee lass by Pyr standards.
One day at the vet's office recently, a big guy came over to us, ruffled Fidgets fur and said, "You sure are cute. If you were a little bigger, you'd look just like a Great Pyrenees".
Fidget didn't bite him or even growl, but if looks could kill ...
The latest playground craze. Luckily my son works in a shop that sells them so he can buy them before they go on the shelves!
RESISTANCE IS FUTILE - THIS CUBE HAS BEEN ASSIMILATED... - A Magic Folding "Fidget" Cube inspired by a Star Trek Borg cube.
The latest playground craze. Luckily my son works in a shop that sells them so he can buy them before they go on the shelves!
Fidget played a trick and made it look like the wind up monsters were chasing the girls. That scared them!
We wish everyone a Happy and most of all Safe Halloween!!
I really love the look of this spinner. It's the perfect size in my opinion. I'd prefer a little more rounded corners, but still a great spinner!
Livestock guardian dogs Mouse and Fidget (LR) welcoming Molly home after the holidays. Took this one when Mouse was looking over to the right to check on the birds (who are about 30 feet off camera).
Happy New Year from everybody at the farm!
When I first ate at Anytime, on North 6th Street, the place was lit up like a supermarket. There were two drunk guys yelling for jalapeño poppers and there was one exhausted Israeli guy running the show. The room was full of flies. None of this mattered, though, because it was four in the morning, and this one-counter takeout spot had committed to serving reasonably tasty pressed sandwiches and tater tots all day, every day.
I've since eaten a lot of meals at Anytime, and I can't really say that most of them have been very satisfying, but it's still the first place I think to go if I'm hungry after midnight and too lazy to head to the city -- even now that there are other options in Williamsburg. It helps somewhat that they've doubled in size, dimmed the lights, and added scores of disaffected Australian and Israeli citizens to the staff. They're still way slow on the follow-through, unfortunately -- a ham sandwich and some fried pierogies can take up to thirty minutes to emerge from the kitchen -- which can lead to some aggravation as you wait out your order at the bar and take pictures of fidgety people behind you.
The clocks you see here, once a central design element when Anytime was a takeout spot, are made of the same nifty metal bowls they used to serve pasta. I miss the bowls, but not that crappy spaghetti.
Back online!
Great Pyrenees dogs like Fidget have three coats: Long, oily, pointed guard hairs form a water-shedding outer coat. Drops run to the pointed tips and fall off. As you can see here, the guard coat has a shingled structure.
A second layer of oily awn hairs -- think awning -- sheds water that gets past the guard hairs.
An inner coat of fluffy down hairs provides insulation that stays dry even in downpours. Down hair is shed preferentially in the spring, leaving most of the waterproof guard and awn coats intact.
We comb out down hair for a month or two in early summer rather than giving them haircuts (which would destroy their waterproofing).
(Edit, 2010: We shear 'em now. Their hair grows back over the summer.)
For most of my life I have suffered from a mental illness that is poorly-understood and largely unknown. It goes by several names, but the most common are excoriation disorder, compulsive skin picking disorder, and dermatillomania.
There's a lot of shame and embarrassment associated with this illness, and most of those who suffer from it are women. (And as far as treating and understanding illnesses that are primarily had by women, doctors haven't got a very good track record.)
As you can see in this photograph, my fingers are a target of my picking. So is my face, my scalp, and anywhere I see (or perceive) a scab or blemish. This illness exposes itself in waves for me; some days, between flareups, my skin will be clear and I'll wonder if I truly am ill. Other days, and these are far more common, I'll find myself perched in front of the bathroom mirror in a dissociative, trancelike state, obsessing over my face, and by the time I snap out of it half an hour has gone by.
I've had doctors tell me "You look fine" and "I've got patients who have it far worse than you." The therapists I've seen over the years have not brought anything worthwhile to the table in terms of management.
Since the age of seven I have been burdened by the secret shame of this illness. I was too embarrassed and ashamed to talk about it or ask for help, and it wasn't until in recent years that I found others on the internet who are suffering from the exact same problem, also too ashamed to speak out. This is the first time I have spoken publicly about it.
I got a fidget cube in the mail today, and while they weren't designed specifically for those with excoriation disorder, they have helped people like myself manage their picking. I'm not looking for a cure; I simply need to manage it, and hopefully this will help me.
Yesterday, Fidget and Mouse heard a neighbor walking up our long driveway from a starting point 600 feet away. Fidget heard him first, and she is seen here sounding the alarm.
In a case of this sort, each dog gives two or three gruff barks, then moves a few feet and repeats. Their paths cross again and again as they weave back and forth along a line perpendicular to that of the incoming intruder.
They are beautiful to watch as they do this.
The title is taken from that of a photograph by Pascale une autre captured near Lac Georgeou in 2005. Pascale has a wonderful set that includes photographs of the patou in its native element.
The latest playground craze. Luckily my son works in a shop that sells them so he can buy them before they go on the shelves!
Fidget has almost no language. She knows only her name and hand signals for "food" and "stay". She's so kind and well-behaved that she doesn't need to know anything more.
She knows how to bring peace to people and other animals. Even feral cats don't fear her.
Something that was new to me, but was the hot free give away from the Tinker Federal Credit Union (one of the sponsors)
My grand daughter's fidget spinner in motion taken with my iPhone 6 (1/17 sec ISO 320). To the eye the golden curves do not appear to be broken.
fidget, fidget
Shoes -thrifted
Tights -Walmart
Skirt -vintage/thrifted
Belt -Gabriel Brothers (Antropologie?)
Sweater -Kohls, maybe-had it forever
Necklace made by me -everything found on sale at Michaels.
blogged: www.thecrimsonowl.blogspot.com