View allAll Photos Tagged Fidget
We just got home after a week in warm Georgia weather. We had days in the seventies, a welcome interlude. We are the Pyrs' most troublesome charges, refusing to stay in safe pasture and disappearing for days at a time.
When we come home the Pyrs want to spend a long time welcoming us back into the flock. After a big welcome-home romp, they sit close by us and quietly pursue their guardian duties with their heads over our shoulders. It's among the best of homecomings, just sitting and enjoying being together again.
Fidget went up to the pasture to visit Granger and Mouse. They're giving her an investigative nose-over.
Granger has gotten out of the pasture twice today. He waits by the gate for me to let him back inside. Though I can't prove it, tracks in the fresh snow suggest that he's going over the fence rather than under it. He didn't venture far, thankfully.
Rural though it is, Bucks County is not a safe place to be an out-and-about dog, so I'm working with him to get him to stay put. At the limit, I'll have to turn on the electric fence, but I'll see if I can persuade him to stay in the pasture without doing that. Electric fences are like rifles to me. Sooner or later on a farm you'll have to use both of them, but it's a last-resort kind of thing for me.
...
First try at Photoshop duotone. It seems a pretty complex technique in terms of the number of choices available. I followed (yet endlessly tweaked) a recipe for this one, but I need to learn it from first principles. It looks better on black.
Actually, it's a magnetic fidget ball that can be taken apart and put back together and holds together with magnets.
Ike and Ivan were both troublesome storms when they blew threw my life. This one's named Irene, and I'm hoping that's not an omen.
Right now it looks like the eye will pass about 35 85 70 miles (110 km) to the east of us on Sunday morning. We should have no serious problems if that prediction holds, though we may well lose electrical power. The storm is about 600 miles across, as big as Katrina. It's more like Ike in form, a big, slow-moving coastal storm without good organization.
Fidget is keeping an eye on the storm track for us. :)
Well this one just about killed me! Our little Fidget, still horribly shy, but trying so hard to come out of her shell. I thought this was so pleading, I just had to post it!
Fidget after a romp outside the fence. She's not saying where or what for.
This is in the bedroom, if you can believe it. It wanted a good cleaning afterward.
We're in the midst of the annual goose egg quarrel between Fidget and Mouse, but the story takes a different turn than in previous years.
Mouse learned early on that we liked goose eggs, and she began defending them from her egg-eating sister and bringing them to us as they were laid. We had incontrovertible, yolk-smeared evidence that Fidget was the egg eater.
They had begun quarreling again this year, each trying to keep the other away from the henhouse where the geese lay their eggs. Last week they began showing signs of having fought each other. A little scab here, a loose tuft of hair there. It's just a springtime thing that happens every year.
Mouse brought us two eggs last week.
The other day Fidget was waiting for me at the pasture gate. I noticed that she had a cut on her face, right where Mouse bit her several years ago. Mouse hung back, looking anxious and guilty. "Aw, sweet Fidget!", I said, "Is it really worth all that to eat a goose egg?" She looked down at the ground, and so did I.
There was the egg, muddy but intact. Fidget was vibrating with happiness.
She fought her sister for the honor of bringing it to us.
We're in spring freeze-thaw cycling here. Snow one day, rain the next, hard freeze the next.
A wet Pyr smells like whatever it sleeps on, This time of year, that's clean hay, a warm, wooly, friendly smell, more sheepy than doggy.
Fidget and her sister Mouse guard pastured poultry on our farm.
Fidget and Rabbit are barking at somebody down on the county road.
I just got back from a couple of weeks in Georgia and South Carolina. I was helping my 94-year-old Mom move house from the former to the latter. She's settled into her new house in Horry County (pronounced O-REE') in a region of the state known as the Low Country.
A few of the plantations there don't pay property taxes because they have deeds granted directly by King George. :)
The grass here in Pennsylvania is getting that golden late-summer look. It's almost time to make hay.
Summer is falling away in a hurry. It always does.
'Tis the season to be....SICK!
If you're anything like me and currently battling the seasonal elements (or not) our new sick fidget is up your alley. Packed full of fun animated sick gestures we all know too well. Choose between 20s and 40s randomly animated intervals and a sick nose and eyes bom add on to complete your sick look. Pairs great with our Fluffos Tissues.
Add some seasonal to your avatar and come visit our booth at Kustom9!
Available @ Kustom9 Opens Dec 15th
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Model: Victoria Bell
Photographer: Justin Bonaparte
Copyright 2020 by Justin Bonaparte. All Rights Reserved.
Meet Fidget! ♥
A cat who adopted J and I when she first strolled up our yard a fortnight ago.
We searched to see if she was someone's lost kitty, and also went to the vet to see if she was microchipped, but it seemed that she was a stray.
We officially adopted her today when we got her microchipped and vaccinated; she is also scheduled to be spayed shortly.
The vet put her at about 18 months old currently, so she's still a teenager/young adult in cat years. ^_^
We named her Fidget because as sweet tempered as she is, she can't seem to sit still for long!
Fidget and Mouse have their winter coats on, and they're making plenty of lanolin for
waterproofing. They're big sheepy galoots this time of year. Fidget's coat will nearly touch the ground by springtime.
We're going to be scarce for a few days, Christmas and all that.
Realpuki Soso has come to join my dolly family!
Fidget doesn't have a wig yet so I knit a temporary head covering for her. :)
These things are all the craze for kids. My little one picked one up on her recent shopping trip.
Since i was at home and all fidgety, this spinner gave me an excuse to whip out the camera!
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Fidget looks on as Granger chases Mouse across the paddock.
We're getting some snow tonight. It hasn't been a snowy winter so far. No complaints.
Fidget!
A two and a half minute exposure on Fomapan 200 film to understand why my wife says I can’t sit still 😇
Chroma Snapshot 5x4 film camera with 65mm lens at f22
I fidgeted with the menu and took some time to decide. Indecision, for me, can either be good or bad but my smile betrayed what I thought. The meñu of Pino, Cebu’s relatively new restaurant offering fine Filipino cuisine, was not thick but the choices were tempting and were tearing me apart. It was the day after Christmas and I was treating two good friends and I did not want the food to disappoint. Aside from yearning for authentic Filipino comfort food, the overriding reason why I chose Pino – this was my second visit in three months – I also wanted to entertain. Pino fits the bill. It has luxurious ambiance, attentive staff, spacious seating and grand style (their comfort rooms are fast becoming an attraction!). The prices leaned on the expensive side but then, there are far more restaurants pricier than Pino in the city and with lesser gustatorial substance...
bamboo rice at Pino Filipino Cuisine, Lahug, Cebu City, the Philippines
read on my review of Cebu’s Pino (Filipino cuisine) restaurant in colloidfarl.blogspot.com/
This is a close-up HDR photo of a spinning fidget that I placed on an image of a reclining baby who seems to be entranced with the vision of the fascinating fidget. The photo conveys the disturbing impression that the fidget spinner is a giant skill saw blade hovering over the infant.
Last year Kael's week 36 picture was in a wheat field, and it's my favourite picture ever. This year I've been thinking about taking Eva out to the fields all year. It was actually my plan for the past couple of weeks but work schedules and weather have prevented that. This week all things lined up for Friday morning - neither my wife nor I were working, and the forecast called for morning sunshine.
Thursday after work I took the long road home to scout out a field using the 'sunseeker' iPhone App to predict where the sun would be. The only problem - traffic delays, closed roads and completed harvest kept me from finding a field that would fit with the plan. So, we would just have to wing the location on Friday morning.
Last year I literally had to carry sleepy Kael out of bed and into the car. This year my alarm went off at 5:30 am, and Eva sprang into action jumping off the bed and going over to Bruno's kennel to see how he slept. So now Bruno is awake and wagging his tail like crazy turning his wire kennel into the percussion section of a grade 7 band after a lunch of chocolate bars and lattes. And he needed to pee too. So both dogs went outside, then Bruno was put back into his kennel against his better judgement, and I carried Eva out to the car (our driveway was all prepped for a concrete pour later that am so not dog friendly walking surface) and off we went. A twenty minute drive outside the city and I found a field which fit the bill (not yet harvested, no big ditch surrounding, and looking like it will get the morning light). I backed the SUV up to an access road, grabbed a reflection photo for my Studio 26 assignment flic.kr/p/p5kTbc and took Eva into the field.
Now, this is when I am reminded just how different a one year old Brittany Spaniel pup is from my docile senior citizen retriever Kael. Where Kael gently followed me into the field respectfully following tire paths and rows of wheat - Eva had other plans. Apparently there are approximately 1.47 million different smells in a farmer's field and each one of them is way more interesting than the last. Apparently ducks flying overhead must be watched with the intensity of a thousand suns. Apparently she can walk long distances while balancing on her back legs (I actually already knew this but she did a particularly good demonstration in the field). Apparently when you are on the end of a 6 foot lead being tightly held by a human working a DLR camera the best plan is to run quickly in circles at the perimeter of the lead making it work like a lawnmower blade on the wheat. Apparently freshly cut wheat is quite itchy and must be scratched with utmost speed and intensity. All of these things I was unaware of when I brought her to the edge of the field.
In the end I did get the shot I set out for, a view from above with Eva sitting in place looking up at me with wheat surrounding. However unlike Kael's photo, Eva's is no where near as magical because it is simply not Kael and that morning and photo are such a special memory for me. The other things impeding the magic of Eva's version is the wider path in the wheat, the crazy look in her eye as she tries to 'jedi mind trick' the ducks into flying closer, and the fidgeting back end that would much rather be wagging and wiggling instead of sitting patiently.
So at the end of the day I did get this version of her walking on back paws like a circus bear while testing the tensile strength of nylon and looking over the wheat to see just what may be making those delightful smells in the field. And guess what - I love it. The photo is just so Eva - cute, agile, sweet, and slightly crazy.
My apologies to the farmer and 8 circular feet of wheat at the edge of his field.
===GCPD===
A pale man sat in the lock-up; his dark, chestnut-coloured hair thinning; his cheeks hollow. He watched as the policemen paced outside, barking out indecipherable orders at one another. Kept in a cage, isolated, and ignored, it was the only thing he could do. Watch. With glossy, glass-like round eyes, like an owl's. His fingers fidgeted, but his gaze never left the officers. "Gotham's Finest." His jailors. His captors. He'd been caged before. In Blackgate. In Arkham.
But that suited him just fine. He liked watching.
The door to the interrogation room swung open; Batman stormed into the room, his black cape billowing behind him, and without a spoken word to his green-haired prisoner, he slammed a tray of gingerbread men onto the metal table.
Joker eyed them up, a fleeting hunger in his eyes, then he slouched back in his chair. "No, thank you, I already ate,” he smiled. “But by all means, you go ahead! They’re homemade! Well, not my home, but that Swedish couple were very gracious hosts! Oh, you’ll like this; I used melted dark chocolate to make your little boots and cowl, thought it matched your inherent bitterness! I have got to give you the recipe!” he resolved, with all the enthusiasm of a mid-western house-wife.
“Why Walker?” Batman cut him off, his white eyes narrowing, his closed fists resting on the table.
Joker’s green eyes contracted slightly. “Why, Batsy, are you jealous?” he pried. "Should I be jealous?"
“He's been through enough,” Batman warned.
“Oh, I know. Dreadful stuff. And just think, you could've stopped Ra's years ago if you weren't so busy sleeping around with his daughter. You old fox, you! Always the ones in leather catsuits, Mrrrrrw!"
Batman’s jaw clenched, an instinctive response to Joker’s taunts.
"Yes, I know- The ol' 'Broke-Bat Mountain-Man' told me all about that nasty business between you two, in graphic detail actually... and there I was, wondering where the latest brat had come from! The sword should've been the giveaway, I suppose... When's his birthday, again? He must be 14, 15 now? Maybe I'll send him a card! Ooh! Maybe I'll send him Roger! Maybe I already did!"
“Enough. My people can take care of themselves.”
“All evidence to the contrary… Or are we side-stepping that little playdate in Ethiopia? Heh. Stop me if you’ve heard this one: A robin walks into a bar… A- heh. A crowbar- Ahahahaha-"
POW. A sudden blow to the face knocked Joker off his seat and he landed on the cold concrete floor face first. Before he had a chance to turn around, the door was already closing. Joker rolled onto his back, clutching his bloody nose and cackled: "When you change your mind, come find me! I'm not exactly going anywhere! Heh. Heheh. Ahahahaha!”
~-~
Just a few doors down from the interrogation room, a supply closet had been converted into a makeshift war room; Drury was sat behind a folding table, his butt planted on a plastic chair, reading through the GCPD records on the Outcasts Case; Batman now stood in the corner, his arms folded, his black cape draped over his shoulders; Gordon was chewing on a stick of nicotine gum and Chase was pacing back and forth around the room, a task made difficult by the room's narrow footprint; a fact that clearly added to his irritation.
"So, it was all a set-up?" he asked, running his hand through his dark hair.
"Appears so," Batman said stiffly, hiding his bloodied fist inside his cape.
"So, what do we do now?" Gordon pondered.
"Nothing," Chase answered. "He has no bargaining power, not without his bomb. We keep him in a secure wing, then we wait until we get the all-clear to send him to Slabside."
"And the hostages?" Batman disapproved.
"If we're lucky, we can negotiate with his partners. The Scarecrow's a smart man with a broken body, he'll surrender. He doesn't have a choice," Chase replied, an implied forcefulness behind his suggestion.
"Nuh-uh. We follow through."
The trio looked at Drury; he had finished reading and had now pushed a neatly stacked pile of police records to one side.
"He kept his end. Let's keep ours."
"Drury, with all due respect-" Chase attempted to dissuade his client.
"Look, the bomb was a fake. But we don't know if the next one'll be. Or the one after that. Or the one after- He's not going to stop until he gets what he wants: Me. And Zoom, Pirate, the rest... They'll tear Gotham apart. You know they will," he added, locking eyes with Batman. "Unless we comply."
“So I'm doing this. Not for me, but for the people he'll harm if I don't hand myself over. You of all people should understand that.”
A thin, involuntary smile broke across the Batman’s lip. It could have almost been mistaken for pride.
The Interrogation Room
Drury sat at the end of the table. He was shaking slightly, and against his wishes, his foot kept tapping the ground. He thought of the Misfits, his kids, Gaige… And though he was certain they could take care of themselves… He remembered that he had thought the same thing about Len.
Len.
He had been imprisoned in Arkham for over a month now, and Drury hadn’t even realised. ‘Stupid. You unperceptive, stupid ass!’ Yet through all his anxiety and stress, through his self-doubt and self-loathing, one thought repeated itself over and over; a stupid, frankly immature thought he seemed unable to get rid of:
‘This is one rotten Christmas.’
Behind the glass, in a utilitarian observation room, the Lawyer, the Cop and the Bat watched with bated breath, as the clown was escorted in on a metal gurney; the blood had been washed off his face now, but his nose jutted to the right at an unnatural angle. “This is a bad idea," Chase chastised Gordon, his arms folded in disapproval. Gordon smiled grimly and Batman immediately understood why; it had been a while since they had a DA in their ranks.
Joker took his place at the opposite end of the table, his pupils dilating as they locked with Drury’s.
And then he started talking.
“So! How's the wife?”
Silence. All remaining colour drained from Drury’s face, and he stared back blankly.
“Funny. That killed at the country club! No, sorry, I killed at the country club,” Joker explained. He scanned Drury’s face for the slightest hint of a smile, of amusement, of anger at the very least, and sighed disappointedly at his complete lack of engagement.
"Oh, come on,” he protested. “Don’t go all pouty on me now, we moved past pouty! Character development! Completed arcs! Doesn't any of that matter? I gave you time to eat away your sad, teary-eyed problems, even laid back while you sought out Fu Manchu! Where is Ming by the way, he stole my favourite tea pot!"
Drury exhaled sharply. "I'm just a game to you, aren't I?"
"No! No, not at all!” Joker promised with false sincerity. “Well, yes, I mean, I suppose you are. The truth is, you're one of my favourite hobbies. Putting on my slippers, falling into my armchair, pressing play on the DVD player, a plate of Kit-Kats by my side.
Love Arkham's new filing system, I have to say! All digital! I bought myself a new laptop as an early Christmas prezzie, and I've been having a lot of fun burning as many interviews as I can find. I call them my Moth Stories!"
"Don’t. You sent Julian and King of Cats and Zoom. You kidnapped Len, threatened my friends, and- And I know you bought Krill. You pay him to bring back Carson too?" Drury demanded answers.
Joker smirked at the accusation. "Actually no, that was pure happenstance. I really thought he was gone for good. But, when life gives you lemons, you have to squeeze the juice into your enemies' eyes... That’s the funny thing about all this, our dear little Arkham-Lite really did just want her daddy back. Of course, I poked the hornet’s nest a little, you set him up with the Calendar Man, and well, sparks are gonna fly!”
Again, nothing from his scene partner. This was not quite the reunion Joker had hoped for. "Oh, come on, give me something to work with, I get enough angst from that one, give me something fun!" The clown hissed.
"Fun? Fun?! My- My wife's dead," Drury said, aghast.
"Oho, and don't I know it," The clown whistled, turning to an imaginary camera, and adding under his breath, "Tch, doesn't everyone."
"You know, so is mine," he continued, "But I've never let it interfere with my social life. Mind, that may be less to do with the grief counselling, more to do with the very real possibility she was a figment of my imagination.... You'd be surprised how often that happens! Well, maybe not that surprised," he said, clicking his tongue loudly. "Bonkers."
~-~
“This isn’t working,” Chase murmured into Gordon’s ear. “We’re getting nowhere.”
“Batman?” Gordon waited for the Caped Crusader’s viewpoint.
Batman didn’t turn around, his eyes still fixed on Joker. “He’s stalling…” he murmured.
~-~
“Why me?” Drury asked bluntly, his fists clenching and unclenching in quick succession.
“Why not?” Joker shrugged. “You’re what he’s not.”
“And what the hell does that mean?”
Joker scoffed. The World’s Greatest Detective, he was not. Oh, well, he always knew Drury was a bit of a ‘fixer upper.’ “It means it’s time to up the ‘anti,’ my little profiterole.” Joker bared his teeth, casting his eyes upwards at the clock. “What do you think? Four seconds?”
"What?"
Joker leaned forwards, and winked, mouthing a countdown. And then it struck Drury.
"WE NEED TO EVACUATE RIGHT NOW-"
Batman, Chase and Gordon spun around: Standing behind them, Hunter Zolomon raised a hand in the air, and with a single snap of his fingers, it was all over.
The resulting shockwave reverberated across the precinct: Gordon and Chase were thrown backwards; Gordon struck the side of the wall and was knocked unconscious; Chase rolled over the table and smacked the floor. Batman got it the worst though; he went flying through the glass screen; if not for his armour, he’d have been torn to shreds. Before losing consciousness, he tapped a dial on the side of his gauntlet, then collapsed to the ground. Drury was thrown off his seat, as his ears started ringing, he scanned the room for any sign of movement. Nothing. Then he looked over at the other end of the table and his heart stopped: the gurney had fallen over, and it was empty.
~-~
“Krill. Krill, what’s going on?”
Abner Krill rose from his bed, nursing a heavy headache, and walked over to the right side of his cell, peering through the bars; between the klaxons and the screaming of soon-to-be dead police officers, he figured it was futile to try going back to sleep. Next door, Carson was whispering at him frantically, demanding an explanation. Krill elected to ignore him, instead casting his eyes to the man standing before him, dressed in a yellow suit adorned with red highlights. The cell door whirred open, and Zoom dropped a parcel at Krill's feet. The man smirked as he strapped the red belt around his waist, once again imbued with inter-dimensional power. "Fuckin' took you long enough,” he muttered, swallowing once he realised Zoom cared alarmingly little for his commentary.
"Which is not to say I'm not grateful."
~-~
Drury looked up; Joker was digging out a shard of glass that was two inches deep in his knee. He had an expression that seemed more inconvenienced than pained.
"And they say shiv-arly is dead!" he chuckled to no one in particular, waving the shard around like a knife. “Quickest DoorDash I’ve ever had! Impeccable service! Five stars!” he clapped patronisingly. A sudden flash of lightning signified Zoom’s return, and Drury instinctively ducked behind the table, an admittedly futile effort.
Zoom, cocked his head to one side. "Druryyyyyyyy. Isee you Druryyyyyyyy."
"You don't... You don't scare me," Drury lied, crawling over broken glass and splattered blood. “Either of you.”
Zoom shook his head, taking slow but purposeful steps forward. "Iamnot heeeeeeeeere to scaaaaaaare you Druryyyyyyyy. Iam hereto teaaaaaaaaach yooooooou,” he pledged, placing an assertive hand around the shoulder of Drury’s tattered orange jumpsuit. With all eyes on Drury, no one noticed Adrian Chase slip away.
~-~
Now fully suited up, Krill punched through a vending machine, and started helping himself to the contents. Then, a gunshot rang out.
A man in black, with white boots, red goggles and a blue "v" on his chest, was pointing a pistol at him. Krill frowned. ‘The fuckin’ audacity.’
"Can't get a moment's rest, can I? Which one are you, then?" he yawned with complete indifference.
"Vigilante,” the man warned. The gun stayed aimed at Krill’s polka-dotted forehead.
"Fuck off," Krill chortled. "You lot run out of names?"
The gun went off; but Krill was quick; a portal came between him and the bullet, and a second one redirected it into the Vigilante’s side. Krill smirked, hopped over the incapacitated vigilante, and continued on his way.
~-~
Zoom sped on ahead while Joker pushed Drury along in his own gurney, stopping to point at the occasional dead body or to sing a limerick. As they approached the cell block, Joker propped Drury up against the wall, picked up a flashlight, and ran it across the bars of Carson’s cell. Carson, leapt to his feet, snarling.
"Kill you! I'll fucking kill you!" he swore, sticking his hands through the bars and swiping at the clown.
"Mm. Who are you again? Kidding! Kidding, it begins with a B, doesn't it?" Joker smirked.
At this, Carson let out an animalistic, guttural roar. “YOU’RE ALL FUCKING DEAD!”
Joker stuck out his bottom lip in a show of false despondency. "Oh, dear Theodosia, what to say to you... You know what it's like, it's like missing out a season or two of your favourite TV show. You say "Oh, it's dragging on a bit, I'll just skip forward until it picks up again," Then suddenly, bam! The wife's dead, there's a dozen new characters, the city has a crater in it- and they didn't invite you to the musical- even though you killed Hamilton. And also killed Hamilton. Hill, that is. It was one of my campaign promises; I ran for president. You remember that don't you, Drury. Course you do; you endorsed me.”
"I didn't endorse you,” Drury said emotionlessly.
"But you didn't not endorse me either!" Joker giggled, squeezing his cheek playfully
A green portal opened, and Krill stepped through, his arms full of various oddities. “Believe these are yours,” he stated, handing Joker a large crate of confiscated goods.
“Wonderful!” he chirped, as he began filling his pockets with knives, playing cards and chewing gum. As he did so, Carson yelled out once more.
“Dead! You’re a fucking dead man! You and Krill and Walker, and-"
“Halibut you keep your hands to yourself, kiddo!” Joker warned, waving his fish around like a pistol. “Your father and I are talking!”
Carson flinched for a second, then stepped back from the door.
“Whaaaat about hiiiiiiiiiim?” Zoom asked, gesturing to the final occupied cell on this block. A bald man was stood by the bars, peering over at them.
“I don’t think he wants to play with us anymore, dear. Ah, kids today...” Joker sighed regretfully. “But don’t you worry, I’ve already found the perfect understudy!”
~-~
A pale man sat in the lock-up; his dark, chestnut-coloured hair thinning; his cheeks hollow. He watched as an orange portal opened, and four men emerged from the amber light; as the Joker stepped forward and sprayed acid across the lock of his cell door.
Joker held up a boxy, black mask, a circular lens affixed to the front, and smiled broadly. "I spy with my little eye..."
As Drury lay in the gurney, surrounded by monsters and madmen, one thought came to the surface:
'This is one rotten Christmas.'
Granger is a really sweet dog. He's seen here lying in a pool of window light in our living room. Fidget's front legs and mane are in the foreground
Granger is pretty well integrated into the family, though he still cringes if you approach him too quickly with something in your hand. He'll be three years old in February. He had a really horrible time before his rescue, but he seems to feel safe and happy here.
This was the boy who couldn't be touched at all. He wouldn't even come in the house the first month he was with us. We quickly built him a lean-to shelter near the front door. Then we worked with him several times a day outside until he trusted us enough to come indoors.
He's found his place here. I stay up later than everyone else, and Granger spends a couple of hours lying in my spot next to Molly in bed. He's tall, handsome and long-legged, the largest dog here at about 50 kg (110 lb). The girls still push him around any time they feel like it. :)
Mouse and Fidget have worked the greater part of his healing. He and Mouse romp like crazy for an hour every evening, and Fidget is simply the stable point around which the whole farm revolves, Granger no less that the rest of us.
My nephew got a fidget spinner today which has led lights on each arm. Thing spins super well and gave some great pics in a darkened room on our kitchen table. For we’re here visiting creative table top photography
So long time ago, when CoFo posted these robo gals (and was active in the community... Man I miss him ),= ), I actually stated that I wanted them to meet Aigara and her sisters; and since I couldn't come up with ideas for his birthday present this year, I decided to make that wish a reality in form of drawing.
As a fun fact, I realized through this drawing that Alice is around the heigth of an adult human... When in my canon Aigara is too (~1.80m). So trying to scale every character was a pain and it didn't go as well as I wanted (Mari wasn't even able to get in the picture without looking the focus on CoFo's bots). I'm not that happy with how Remi appears here, so maybe I should have just left the sisters behind...?
Anyways, I'm already delayed to post this (I had everything planed to have it for July 3rd and then my final project went downhill) and I have to come up with an idea for 0nuku's birthday soooo... Sorry for not getting this as good as I wanted CoFo, but hope you will like it <3
The other day Rabbit demanded to be let out, barking as loudly as I've ever heard her. She was so agitated that I followed her out the door. Rabbit charged past Fidget, heading off for the fence nearest the pond, calling out loudly,
"Crows! Crows! Implacable foes!
Crows by the pond, flying hither and yon.
They’ll bear off the farm and burn it.
They’ll sour the milk and turn it
over. They’ll pull up the clover
and rut in the stubble.
They’ll tear down the barn
and strut through the rubble.
They’re frightful and spiteful
and nothing but trouble.
They’re crows, I tell you,
They’re crows!”
Fidget gazed serenely over the pond, to all appearances at peace with the world and its crows.
"Anything going on out here Fidget?", I asked her, "Except crows, I mean".
"Nothing I can see, Boss”, Fidget said. “Maybe just a little C*R*A*Z*Y”.
I paused for a moment. "Hmmm", I said. "I thought that it might be something along those lines.”
"She's a good little dog", said Fidget.
"Yeah, she is”, I said. “I like her too.”