View allAll Photos Tagged him
Concentrate on the 4 dots in the middle of the picture for about 30 secs.
Then, take a look at the wall and start blinking (it also works mostly without blinking) your eyes.
You will see a circle of light..
continue looking at that circle...
what do you see?
Since our town is on a river, the fire fighters also talked about water rescue. This year, they set a record for the number of rescues this fire company has made in the river.
Saw him the same night I met George Romero (seperate cities though)...didn't exactly mean or plan on seeing him, just hoped to because he was at a seperate event (that cost a fortune just for a normal-sounding concert...cheapest tix was $45...not bad, the next cheapest was $75..no thanks, the NEXT was $145...F*** THAT!!!).
After an amazing day, and being very thankful for everything....i take the train back to where I parked...to find my car had been towed (while I was an hour away from home...and 12:30am)...sooo had to do the whole "get a ride home, then get it in the morning" meaning lots of time/$$$ spent.
Surprisingly I wasnt even mad, I just thought "you know what, shit happens, yea this really sucks, but theres far worse things to worry about"...so, sat in the cold for about an hour 1/2 before being picked up at 2:00am lol. LONG DAY.
mutual cuddles and affections.
outside kitty has grown exponentially affectionate.
he won't eat until he's had his cuddles and pettings.
i still don't know what to call him.
he doesn't really respond to anything, but in my mind
he'll always be "band-aid".
in other news, not a day goes by where i don't think of my other kitty.
it's become easier, but yesterday, a sympathy card from the vet reminded me.
as a sweet and sentimental gesture, they included a clay circle that had
Rocky's name imprinted on it with a generic paw print in the middle.
my initial feelings were: you have no right to send me this generic nonsense.
why do people do this? because with that token, and that card came flooding back
all the memories of Rocky's last day on this planet. they way i held him as he died.
how light and hollow his lifeless body felt, and how i kissed his soul-less head
for the last time before burying him. the feeling of just how limp he was, still warm - yet
gone forever. and the overwhelming feeling of wanting to just stand there holding
him forever, unable to let go completely just yet.
the image of his body lying in the ground is burned into my memory.
and while most of the time my thoughts of him are the happier ones,
receiving a card from the very veterinary clinic that helped me end his life became suddenly
overwhelming. it hasn't even been a full month yet, but i miss my little buddy so very much.
i still step wide over his favorite sleeping spots, or think that movements i see out of the
corner of my eye are him, or worst of all - expect him to be laying by the door waiting for
me when i come home.
after wrestling with these thoughts, i decided that they honestly didn't mean any harm
by it. it's good business after all, and all the signatures on the card were real and not
printed - so that means something, right?
i put the token on my bookshelf, next to the photo of Miss Sweetie Pie and
the snippet of Rocky's fur that i clipped just before his final hours.
a few minutes and a million thoughts later, i grabbed a can of cat food for outside kitty.
when i opened the door, i took one step and opened my mouth ready to call out to him -
but there he was. sitting outside the door, already waiting.
when he saw me he jumped up and meowed loudly whilst rubbing against my legs.
i dumped the food out for him, but he didn't go for it immediately.
instead he rolled around in front of me baring his belly, jumping up on occasion
to head butt my kneecaps. i sat down next to him and we enjoyed each other's
company for about fifteen minutes. i always know when he's hungry, but as i said
earlier, he doesn't eat until we've had "our time". sometimes i have to instruct him
as to when "our time" is over by picking him up, giving him kisses and scritches as
diagrammed in the photo above, and setting him next to his food.
i don't know where he came from, but i think i know why.
he is beautiful, and amazing, and so affectionate.
<3
Whenever I see him, the only thing I can think is that he is perfection. Whether he's sleeping, dancing, sitting, talking, crying, laughing, making love, what-have-you - the reoccurring thought is that he is perfection. Flaws and favorables combined. His skin, the slope of his shoulders, the spine and meat stretched over his rib bones, the patch of hair on his stomach, his fingers, toes and tongue - I could go on for a lot longer than you might like to read. I'm not sure I could ever explain what I feel when I see him standing across a room sometimes. It's not a constant feeling, I don't think that's what love is, honestly. It comes in waves, pangs, and enters my thoughts occasionally. He wasn't what I was looking for, but he was what I found and exactly what I needed. I think maybe someday everyone will know exactly the feeling I'm talking about. I think love is the pangs, the subtle thoughts, the knowing, the reoccurring realization that you absolutely feel something so strongly for someone, that it completely washes over you. You see the innocence, the strength, the weakness - all of it, and you know it's more than what you ever wanted, or expected. I hope someday someone gets a photo of that feeling, when the exact thought hits me. When you see my eyes, you'll know. He knows, you will know, too.
The Village of Villa Park has this gazebo along the Prairie Path not far from us that I've never posted but should some time. They've decorated it with a big Christmas tree and cardboard representations of various elves from pop culture. These include the Keebler Elves, Dobby the House Elf from Harry Potter and the Missing Editor, Legolas from The Lord of the Rings (as played by Orlando Bloom), and, as seen here, Will Ferrell's Buddy the Elf from the movie Elf. Robin loves the movie Elf, so she had her picture taken with Buddy. I'm not really a big fan of Christmas, so I didn't have my picture taken with anything.
Young Maasai child and sitter. Don't know if it's a boy or girl but I think the pants are on backwards.
Hand held 20D and 28-135mm lens.
Ya know, George Canyon might sound like he grew up on a farm in Texas. But make no mistake, he's a Canadian cowboy, from Nova Scotia. His parents made him a child-size guitar when he was 5 years old and by the time he was 10, he was playing school talent shows. Years later, on a whim as a pre-med student he auditioned for a production of "Camelot."nGeorge got to play the lead and his life took a big turn. A country band heard George sing. They offered him a gig and soon enough, he started touring with them. Eventually, the band split up, but George kept at it. He worked odd jobs to make ends meet, everything from shipping and receiving, to slaughterhouse beef inspector, to law enforcement officer. Along the way, he put out a couple of albums before auditioning for the country music reality show - 'Nashville Star.' George came in second, but his career took off. His major label debut, 'One Good Friend,' went gold in Canada. Since then, he's released a bunch of albums, and won a bunch of awards. He's even been made an Honorary Colonel by Defense Minister Peter McKay. His latest album is called 'What I Do'.
Check out the interview here - www.cbc.ca/thehour/videos.html?id=933203340
Ya know, George Canyon might sound like he grew up on a farm in Texas. But make no mistake, he's a Canadian cowboy, from Nova Scotia. His parents made him a child-size guitar when he was 5 years old and by the time he was 10, he was playing school talent shows. Years later, on a whim as a pre-med student he auditioned for a production of "Camelot."nGeorge got to play the lead and his life took a big turn. A country band heard George sing. They offered him a gig and soon enough, he started touring with them. Eventually, the band split up, but George kept at it. He worked odd jobs to make ends meet, everything from shipping and receiving, to slaughterhouse beef inspector, to law enforcement officer. Along the way, he put out a couple of albums before auditioning for the country music reality show - 'Nashville Star.' George came in second, but his career took off. His major label debut, 'One Good Friend,' went gold in Canada. Since then, he's released a bunch of albums, and won a bunch of awards. He's even been made an Honorary Colonel by Defense Minister Peter McKay. His latest album is called 'What I Do'.
Check out the interview here - www.cbc.ca/thehour/videos.html?id=933203340
Ya know, George Canyon might sound like he grew up on a farm in Texas. But make no mistake, he's a Canadian cowboy, from Nova Scotia. His parents made him a child-size guitar when he was 5 years old and by the time he was 10, he was playing school talent shows. Years later, on a whim as a pre-med student he auditioned for a production of "Camelot."nGeorge got to play the lead and his life took a big turn. A country band heard George sing. They offered him a gig and soon enough, he started touring with them. Eventually, the band split up, but George kept at it. He worked odd jobs to make ends meet, everything from shipping and receiving, to slaughterhouse beef inspector, to law enforcement officer. Along the way, he put out a couple of albums before auditioning for the country music reality show - 'Nashville Star.' George came in second, but his career took off. His major label debut, 'One Good Friend,' went gold in Canada. Since then, he's released a bunch of albums, and won a bunch of awards. He's even been made an Honorary Colonel by Defense Minister Peter McKay. His latest album is called 'What I Do'.
Check out the interview here - www.cbc.ca/thehour/videos.html?id=933203340
Ya know, George Canyon might sound like he grew up on a farm in Texas. But make no mistake, he's a Canadian cowboy, from Nova Scotia. His parents made him a child-size guitar when he was 5 years old and by the time he was 10, he was playing school talent shows. Years later, on a whim as a pre-med student he auditioned for a production of "Camelot."nGeorge got to play the lead and his life took a big turn. A country band heard George sing. They offered him a gig and soon enough, he started touring with them. Eventually, the band split up, but George kept at it. He worked odd jobs to make ends meet, everything from shipping and receiving, to slaughterhouse beef inspector, to law enforcement officer. Along the way, he put out a couple of albums before auditioning for the country music reality show - 'Nashville Star.' George came in second, but his career took off. His major label debut, 'One Good Friend,' went gold in Canada. Since then, he's released a bunch of albums, and won a bunch of awards. He's even been made an Honorary Colonel by Defense Minister Peter McKay. His latest album is called 'What I Do'.
Check out the interview here - www.cbc.ca/thehour/videos.html?id=933203340
Ya know, George Canyon might sound like he grew up on a farm in Texas. But make no mistake, he's a Canadian cowboy, from Nova Scotia. His parents made him a child-size guitar when he was 5 years old and by the time he was 10, he was playing school talent shows. Years later, on a whim as a pre-med student he auditioned for a production of "Camelot."nGeorge got to play the lead and his life took a big turn. A country band heard George sing. They offered him a gig and soon enough, he started touring with them. Eventually, the band split up, but George kept at it. He worked odd jobs to make ends meet, everything from shipping and receiving, to slaughterhouse beef inspector, to law enforcement officer. Along the way, he put out a couple of albums before auditioning for the country music reality show - 'Nashville Star.' George came in second, but his career took off. His major label debut, 'One Good Friend,' went gold in Canada. Since then, he's released a bunch of albums, and won a bunch of awards. He's even been made an Honorary Colonel by Defense Minister Peter McKay. His latest album is called 'What I Do'.
Check out the interview here - www.cbc.ca/thehour/videos.html?id=933203340
Ya know, George Canyon might sound like he grew up on a farm in Texas. But make no mistake, he's a Canadian cowboy, from Nova Scotia. His parents made him a child-size guitar when he was 5 years old and by the time he was 10, he was playing school talent shows. Years later, on a whim as a pre-med student he auditioned for a production of "Camelot."nGeorge got to play the lead and his life took a big turn. A country band heard George sing. They offered him a gig and soon enough, he started touring with them. Eventually, the band split up, but George kept at it. He worked odd jobs to make ends meet, everything from shipping and receiving, to slaughterhouse beef inspector, to law enforcement officer. Along the way, he put out a couple of albums before auditioning for the country music reality show - 'Nashville Star.' George came in second, but his career took off. His major label debut, 'One Good Friend,' went gold in Canada. Since then, he's released a bunch of albums, and won a bunch of awards. He's even been made an Honorary Colonel by Defense Minister Peter McKay. His latest album is called 'What I Do'.
Check out the interview here - www.cbc.ca/thehour/videos.html?id=933203340
Most of my time lately has been spent working on the studio, working on Michelle and I's upcoming competition, and working on our recent marketing package release. I haven't done a lot of client work yet this year so much of my uploads have been personal work.
This is my step son Adrik, the girls ADORE their brother but as you can see, he hasn't found that same appreciation yet lol!
I met my fiance in the spring of 2006. I met him online, on a forum for Stephen King's Dark Tower series. I was supposed to be with someone else at the time, a relationship my heart wasn't in at all, and from his very first post to our little community, I was smitten. I broke up with the guy I was with and pined after "wander." (For the record, I was maeralyn.)
After several slow days with the two of us talking in the forums, and one eventful anniversary on the site, I sent him a private message. It was almost two in the morning, and extremely short, consisting basically of "Thanks for being on here, I think you're delightful." I stayed up for almost an hour more, agonizing, waiting for a reply. Then, he signed off the boards. I was upset, worried that it hadn't sent, that it had gone through and he ignored it, that I had made a mistake by trying to move this friendship into the "something more" territory.
I finally gave up and got ready for bed.
Just before I shut off my computer, it appeared. A reply. I was horribly nervous and thrilled.
Many more messages back of forth. Twenty or more a day, all very well thought out, each on responding to every little comment, basking as we told one another our life stories, our secrets, invited the other probe our inner workings. We eventually moved our conversations from the forums and forum mailboxes to instant messenger. Somewhere along the way, I moved from Missouri (he was, and is, in Florida) to Oregon. I had been thrilled about the move before I met Wesley, but began to have doubts. I nearly had a breakdown halfway through the move. In Nevada I realized I was relegating myself to a relationship with a man as far away from me as he could be in the continental U.S.
But I went, because it was what was best for my future, because my family was there, because my school was there.
In Oregon, I got my first cell phone. The winter of 2006, I called Wesley for the first time, and for the first time we heard the other person with whom we were so in love with. The first several minutes of conversations consisted of me verifying that we were still connected while he hyperventilated. Once he found his tongue, I was thrilled. His voice was wonderful and deep, lacking the accent I had expected. We talked for hours that first day, until both batteries had died and we were unable to move more than five feet from the plug. Our nights and weekends became veritable utopia. I told him everything, complained about my freshman college classes, described the changing seasons, listed my family problems. He told me about his frustration with his senior year in high school, told me about his cousins, how they were growing as he baby sat them, raged about the distance between us.
We were mad about each other.
In the winter of 2007, after a year and a half of being in a relationship with someone I had never physically met, I grew restless. I flirted with, and eventually dated, a different boy I'd met at work. I still talked to Wesley every night, every minute I wasn't in class, working, or with the other guy. I grew deeply depressed, I left school, and dumped the other guy.
The spring of 2008, we officially re-began a relationship that felt like it had never ended. That summer, I scrapped, and saved, and managed to buy a plane ticket. He flew out for four and a half days over Thanksgiving.
We met at the Medford airport, very late at night. His was the last plane in, and I had spent the entire day worrying over whether he would be able to land in the dense fog that covered the mountains.
When he got off the plane, I was overwhelmed. I couldn't believe it was him. All I could do was cling to him, completely ignoring everything else. His hair was long, and my face was buried in it as I fought tears. He was hyperventilating again, and I couldn't stand on my own.
The days went far too quickly, and abruptly we were back at the airport. I begged him not to leave, and, even though he's younger than me, he is the grown-up. He reminded me that he had responsibilities he had to face. He had classes and his family that deserved completion and closure, respectively. I sobbed, but he had to go. Still, I had his word that he would be back, and I had a ring. It was small, sterling silver and hand crafted with a tiny amethyst stone, not an engagement ring, but a promise one.
By now, we had a cellphone plan that allowed us to talk anytime, day or night, without costing us a fortune. So, we talked. We planned. We saved. By spring of 2009, he'd saved enough money to buy me a plane ticket.
In September of 2009, I flew to Pensacola. I was there for two of the best weeks of my life. He proposed to me--twice. I said yes. I now had a different ring, white gold, with a lovely little topaz. When it came time for me to leave, I once again, begged him. This time I begged him not to make me go. Once again, he was the adult. He reminded me that I too had a family. I had a job. I had responsibilities.
So I came back. I was miserable to be back to the grind knowing the best thing that had ever happened to me was across the country.
Then, I got a rash. It started as a tiny scratch, and grew until my entire ring finger was consumed. It turned out that I'm extremely allergic to gold. Gone then, was my ability to wear my precious ring, my promise, my visual proof of love from a man none of my friends has met. I switched back to my promise ring, and carried on.
One of the conditions of my returning to Oregon was the plan we had set, for him to get a scholarship at the university here, and to move out during the summer of 2010. We would live to together while he finished school. We would get married during the summer of 2011.
And now, and now.
He's been unable to find a job. He owes his school money, and I'm living pay-check to pay-check.
And today, it hit me.
In all likelihood, we won't be together this summer. We will probably not be able to be together until 2011.
My heart is broken.
But this letter, my love, is proof. Proof that I love you when I cannot wear your ring. Proof that even though I cannot stop crying yet, I know we'll make it through this too. Proof that I remember everything about us, that I know what we are and how worth it we are. After, what difference is half a year or a year and half when true love is what's at stake.
This is my love letter to you, Wesley.
I keep telling him and telling him, "don't get near the sink".....
Did he listen????? NO!
As usual, Beaker misbehaving.....
Don't worry, he didn't drown, though I was tempted at the time.....
Please note - no harm was done to any Beakers during this photographic session.
:-)
in the 1896 Ward & Hughes stained glass within St. Peter's Church, Monks Eleigh, Suffolk
--Church Link: www.suffolkchurches.co.uk/monkseleigh.html
a jaw dropper,
looks good when he walks,
is the subject of their talk
he would be hard to chase,
but good to catch
you can find him
sitting on your doorstep,
waiting for a surprise
and he will feel like
he's been there for hours
and you can tell that he'll be there for life
daydreamer,
with eyes that make you melt,
he lends his coat for shelter
plus he's there for you when he shouldn't be,
but he stay all the same,
waits for you then sees you through
there's no way I could describe him
what I'll say is just what I'm hoping for
Aw, that would so be Zoey's song for Haiku :)
Seeing as today was their 2nd anniversary, I thought I'd upload an old photo that's been sitting on my desktop for a few months now.
They've been friends from the day they met, but they've grown into so much more over the last two years. Watching them, I am always amazed.
When I release them from the back gate into the front lawn (unfenced but with beautiful light for photos), they'll take off down the driveway and do a few laps on the grass. Zoey with her clumsy big dog lope, and Hike practically soaring off the ground in a not so graceful manner. It's rare for them to run next to one another; Hike, by default, is faster because of his size and build, but Zoey can surprise him (and me) with short bursts of cheetah speed where she easily keeps up. One of them is usually chasing the other, but in their minds, I'm sure they're in union. Free, but together... side by side.
Two years and they still go besides themselves when they see one another, as if for the first time. Before we head out to their house, I always tell Hike where we're going, and he leads me down the hall with a certain bounce in his step.
There's so much joy in their faces when they play, a simple joy of being in each other's presence. A dog can't fake that and it warms my heart. I've known folks who claim animals don't feel like we do. That they lack personalities, aren't governed by emotions, don't understand concepts such as family, love... I challenge them to spend a minute with this pair and then stand by their belief.
I watch Hike and Zoey interact sometimes, from a window inside the house, without them seeing me. There's an unspoken communication. Maybe it's something we can't hear but I have no doubt it exists. I see dogs at the park initiate games of chase, of tag, of hike and seek. We might put words to actions, to feelings, but dogs... they just do. They just are. We might not have a label for it but that doesn't mean it's not there.
They understand the simple things... a lot better than many humans give them credit for. I wish more people would see that.
Happy 2 years, Hike and Zo. Thanks for showing me the way.
This very large stone face was lying on its side while they do renovations at the Munsterbasilika in Bonn. It was just there - you could walk right up to it. No fence around it ... very open.
(added later): Apparently these are always on the ground:
In 2002 the Turkish sculptor Iskender Yediler (born 1953) created the heads of Saint Cassius and Saint Florentius who are said to have been decapitated in Bonn in 304.
They are meant to be a reminder of the town's patrons. Their bones rest in the crypt of Minster Basilica as the martyrs of Thebaeian Legion. Legends say that Empress Helena had this church erected to their honour in 310.
Him made California Rolls the other night. They may not be as good as the ones you'd get from a sushi bar, but they're good enough. Mmmm.
My BIL loves BBQ so I made this card for him using a Z fold design, MFT die cut (those kraft pieces are actually the cozies from the coffee cup die, Lawn Fawn images and the Relish the day sentiment and Mama Elephant HB sentiment). The Z fold can be seen clearly in this next picture www.flickr.com/photos/74238397@N06/42798236214. I am submitting this card to www.lawnfawnatics.com/announcement/lawn-fawnatics-challen..., www.cardchallenges.com/2018/07/wednesday-sketch-challenge..., www.simonsaysstampblog.com/wednesdaychallenge/simon-says-..., wordartwednesday.blogspot.com/2018/07/challenge-weeks-344...
Él es David Carnicer, la razón de que yo siga aquà a pesar de todos los altibajos. Mi mayor apoyo y la única persona incondicional e irreemplazable. Y aunque su galerÃa esté hasta arriba de retratos mÃos, nunca se presta a posar para mi cámara. Hasta ahora. Creo que se merecÃa un huequito aquÃ.
.
Explorando esto del retrato, mi primer trabajo con texturas.
Exploring about portrait, my first ps work with textures.
| Twitter.
Canon 50mm f/1.8
Olympus 40-150/2.8 PRO
Lightroom 5.7
Arnold Sports Festival 2015 - Columbus Ohio
MAS Wrestling
Website | Google + | Facebook | Twitter | Visual Ohio Blog | Best Light Photo Blog | Tumblr