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Sunday, July 31, 2011

Key West, Florida: its many mellow yellows


© Photos by Richard Schear and Kay Davies January, 2008


Photos taken in Key West, Florida, on our way home from Costa Rica, January, 2008.


Posted for Mellow Yellow Monday, hosted each week
by Drowsey Monkey.

To see other yellows, perhaps even mellower or yellower yellows,
please click HERE!

Magpie Tales 76: it's wrong

Photo by Skip Hunt
provided by Magpie Tales
When artist Mettla Maguire was commissioned by the mayor to create a piece of art to decorate the bare brick wall of the town hall, she knew exactly what she wanted. She used two different kinds of metal for the giant sunflower, and mounted it on the side of the town hall with a backing of blue metal roofing.

Soon, however, she was embarrassed, and eventually she was absolutely mortified. Instead of the petals turning yellow-orange as she had expected, the heart of the sunflower rusted, while the petals showed signs of turning black like sunflower seeds.

One night, thinking of the failure of her pièce de résistance, she drove to the town hall, making sure no one was around. She got out of her car carefully, quietly, and walked up to her sculpture on tiptoe. She grabbed one of the "petals" on the left of the flower and pulled on it. Suddenly, a loud alarm rang right in her ear and, as she stood there, frozen in shock, a police car drove up.

Now Mettla found herself on the other side of the town hall, in one of the two small jail cells, awaiting charges of vandalism, public mischief and assaulting a police officer. It was the latter charge that landed her in jail, but she'd had to fight back. "It's wrong!" she screamed as Constable Casey told her she would be facing vandalism charges. "It's so wrong! It's all wrong!" she repeated as she pushed him away from her.

"You're right, lady," said the newly-hired constable. "It's wrong to push a police officer head first into a rusty old windmill. I don't know why they had it rigged with an alarm, but that's not my problem."

Posted for  Magpie Tales  hosted
every week by Willow.

To see how other writer-bloggers interpreted the photo, please click

Succinctly yours: can't proliferate

You can’t proliferate in Detroit City,
Photo supplied by Grandma's Goulash
Iguana, go home,
Iguana, go home,
Oh, please, iguana, go home.

139 characters, 29 words,
including YouTube link.


Posted for
Succinctly Yours
hosted every week by Grandma's Goulash, in which Grandma asks us: "How low can you go?"
Well, maybe not as low as that iguana, but I did my best. The "rules" state: 140 characters or 140 words, and using the word of the week is optional. This week's word is "proliferate"!

To see how the same photo inspired other writer-bloggers, please click

Saturday, July 30, 2011

Shadows and ice cream


Even though it was only March, when the sun came out, the ice cream sellers started doing business in the town of Arnhem, in The Netherlands. My husband got this photo of a group of youngsters (below) in warm jackets sitting on a wall with their ice cream cones.      © Photo by Richard Schear, March, 2011


Posted for  Shadow Shot Sunday, hosted every week by
Tracy at Hey Harriet! Thanks, Tracy!

To see other shadows as other people saw them, please click

Pet critters can look cool, be cool


Hmm, when summer gets hot, it's kinda nice to have a haircut!
© Richard Schear photo

Posted for 



Camera Critters




hosted every week by Misty Dawn. Thanks, Misty!
To see other critters digitally captured by other cameras, please click HERE!




Also posted for Pet Pride
hosted every week by Bozo and his family in Mumbai. (Hi, Bozo! says Lindy.)
To see other pets as their owners see them, please click HERE!


Friday, July 29, 2011

Reflections in Paris windows



© Photos by Kay Davies and Richard Schear, Paris, France, March 2011     






Posted for
Weekend Reflections
hosted by James, now in California.

See other reflections found by other bloggers, by clicking

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Book Blurb Friday: Blue Eyes Crying


The blue eyes haunted Michael wherever he went. He’d close his own eyes, just to rest them, and her eyes would be there, boring bluely into his soul.
How long would he have to live, how old would he have to be, before the eyes of his twin ceased to meet him wherever he went?
They had been so young when she had disappeared, only four years old, and he hardly comprehended what his father told him. “While we were out fishing, Mikey, your mother and your sister got lost.” Lost? But they were home, his mother taking care of Meka, who had a bad cough.
Policemen had come to the house, and returned a few times, but only one of them kept coming back, saying, “I won’t give up.”
Will the detective find her, or will he, too, give up?
Blue Eyes Crying by Will E. Nelson, coming soon.
150 words
Posted for Book Blurb Friday wherein
Lisa Ricard Claro, of Writing in the Buff, provides us a photo, this one taken by her talented photographer daughter Christina, and invites us to use the picture as a book cover, and “Write a book jacket blurb (150 words or less) so enticing that potential readers would feel compelled to buy the book.”
To see how this photograph inspired others to imagine a book and write a blurb for its cover, please click

Summertime clouds


© Photos by Richard Schear    





grey clouds 

lighter, darker 
floating slowly above: 
amusing us, reminding us 
of rain

Posted for
SkyWatch Friday

Also posted for my friends who haven't seen rain for a while,
hoping you get some soon.

To see other skies in other parts of the world, please click

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Thursday Theme Song: Walkin' my...



© Photo by Maria Davies

Gee but it’s great never stayin’ out late
Walking my Lindy back home
Arm in arm over meadow and farm
Walking my Lindy back home.
I go along trying to think of a song,
While Lindy hopes to find a bone
Bluejays go by and they give us the eye
Walking my Lindy back home.
We stop for a breath and she rolls on her back
So I can rub her on her chest
I give her a pet, and that’s when I get
Her golden hairs all over my vest.
After I try to brush them away
She is all covered in leaves
I brush her then we continue again
Walking my Lindy back home!


Song suggested by my husband Richard Schear and my brother Clint Davies. Photograph of Dick and Lindy by Clint's wife Maria, lyrics parodied by Kay Davies with no help from the dog whatsoever,

and posted for Hootin' Anni's musical meme,
Thursday Theme Song

To see other pictures and hear other songs, please click

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Watery Wednesday: reflecting pond or ...


This robin turns away to reflect on the existence of a pond where he's never seen one before. He must be new to our neighborhood, because our corner often floods like this after a heavy rain. We don't always get beautiful reflections in the large puddle, however, because cars and bicycles splash through it.

© Photo by Richard Schear


Posted for Watery Wednesday, hosted by
2sweetnsaxy of T. Bruce Photography.

To see what other water had other photo-bloggers reflecting, please click

Monday, July 25, 2011

B is for bird in My World

TREE SWALLOW
Friends of mine used to have a parrot named "Beefer".
"Why did you call him Beefer? Because he's so big?" people would ask.
"No, it's B for bird," they'd reply.

Here are a few birds Dick and Lindy have met while out on their walks nearby. Well, they didn't exactly meet the turkey buzzard flying overhead, but Dick did manage to get a photo of it.


© Photos by Richard Schear    



Posted for
My
World
Tuesday
hosted by Klaus, Wren, Sandy, Sylvia, Louise and Fishing Guy
To see other worlds on our planet, please click HERE!


Posted also for
ABC  Wednesday
the alphabetical meme hosted by Mrs. Nesbitt
and her team of talented photo-bloggers.
HOUSE FINCH

To see how
the letter B
inspired
others,
please
click
HERE.


TURKEY BUZZARD
JUVENILE ROBIN

Is any group of crows called "a murder of crows" or does the designation "a murder" just apply to a group of crows sitting on a wire?
(Something my brothers and/or my husband would call "a crows line".)
BLUEJAY IN OUR ORNAMENTAL CRABAPPLE TREE, LATE WINTER

REDWING BLACKBIRD
WAXWING FLOCK, LATE WINTER



After leaving this little fella filed as "mystery bird" for a long time, I finally did some online research and I now think he is probably a juvenile yellow warbler. I've posted him here in case anyone in southern Alberta recognizes him as something different.
© Photos by Richard Schear 

Mellow yellow hearts in flowers

I love the yellow hearts of the flowers in my garden. While one or two of my Explorer Roses (above) were still looking halfway presentable, and my Mock Orange bush (below) was still in bloom, I dragged Dick and his camera outside to take some photos for me. I wish you could smell my mock orange. It is almost as beautiful as the perfume of a real orange blossom. Wonderful!
 Posted for Mellow Yellow Monday, hosted
each week by Drowsey Monkey.

To see other mellow yellows from around the world, please click

© Photos by Richard Schear    

Sunday, July 24, 2011

Magpie 75: Cycles Sirius



“The entire dix-septième arrondissement, Pierre?”
“Yes, Papa.”
“Including Place de Clichy?”
“Yes, Papa.”
“And Avenue des Ternes?”
“Yes, Papa. That’s why I really need new clothes...”
“New clothes for such a job?”
“Yes, Papa. The right shorts, and shoes, and...”
“Shorts? You would wear shorts for a job?”
“Yes, Papa. Everyone does now, and...”
“Pah! The old “everyone does” excuse. I’ve heard that a thousand times from your older sisters but I never thought I’d hear it from you.”
“I’ll do the job well, Papa, but...”
“Oh, yes, I’ve no doubt you’ll do the job well. You’re your father’s son, after all, while your sisters take after their mother. Frivolous, all three of them, but I never thought I’d hear you, my only son, being frivolous. Shorts! And new shoes! Your sisters can talk of nothing but shoes! Ugly things, those shoes they want to buy, and I don’t know how they walk on them. They’ll break their ankles, and then I’ll have six broken ankles with which to deal, and your mother will have to wait on those useless girls hand and foot. Heh heh, hand and foot, for shoes. That’s funny. But new shoes are not funny. I hope you never break any of your bones, Pierre. I hope you don’t want shoes with high heels, Pierre.”
“No, Papa, high heels would never do, but...”
“But what, Pierre? You keep saying “and” and you keep saying “but” but you never tell me what it is you want to say!”
“Yes, Papa. If I’m going to deliver newspapers, I really must have a new bicycle, seriously, Papa.”

Posted by Magpie Tales, hosted by Willow.
Each week, Willow posts a photo to inspire writer-bloggers to write a poem or short vignette, of their own choice, based on what they see.  This is my submission for Magpie 75.

To see how others used the "Cycles Sirius" photo to challenge their muses, please click

Explaining myself, for my friend Friko

I often refer to my husband, Dick, walking our dog, Lindy, "at the coulee" or "by the coulee" near our neighborhood. Once or twice I've remembered to provide a link to explain the word coulee to those of you who may be unfamiliar with it.
Because it is applied to many different kinds of places in North America, it is not surprising people in the rest of the world don't understand what I mean. My blogger friend Friko, who lives in England, has asked me, "What is a coulee?"
That is a very good question. There are many answers and, as a relative newcomer to the Canadian prairie, I find I cannot satisfactorily define "coulee" by myself.
If you click the link below, you'll find the following explanation, plus more detail, and some photographs, including one taken in southern Alberta.  The best I can do is provide illustrations, below, and I didn't even take them myself.

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Coulee (or coulée) is applied rather loosely to different landforms, all of which refer to a kind of valley or drainage zone.
The word coulee comes from the Canadian French coulée, from French word couler meaning "to flow".
The term is often used interchangeably in the Great Plains for any number of water features, from ponds to creeks.
Aside from those formed by volcanic eruptions, (coulees) are commonly canyons characterized by steep walls that have been shaped by erosion. These types of coulees are generally found in the northwestern United States and southwestern Canada.
Coulees provide shelter from wind and concentrated water supplies to plants which would otherwise struggle to survive in the xeric sagebrush steppe. Trees are often found along streams in coulees and at the base of their walls.
© Photos left, and right, by Richard Schear
First three photos at the coulee
in our neighborhood.


© Photos above, and below, by Maria Davies

Photo taken last week by my sister-in-law at Police Point Park in the north side of the city of Medicine Hat, Alberta. The steep canyon wall runs above the south bank of the South Saskatchewan River opposite the park.
Many coulees in this area, such as the one where Dick and Lindy walk daily, have water in them only intermittently, sometimes not at all in a dry year. The ones containing large rivers such as the South Saskatchewan, always have water, although at widely varying levels depending upon the time of year, and the whims of prairie weather.
Below, my brother Clint Davies and his wife Maria at Police Point Park.

© Photo by Richard Schear    

Succinctly Yours: nothing arbitrary



Although the tools were old and the place lit only by a lantern, there was nothing arbitrary about the way Dad arranged his workshop.
(133 characters)





Posted for 
Succinctly
Yours
at Grandma’s Goulash.






Every week, Grandma asks: “How low can you go? 



"Use this photo as inspiration for a story of 140 characters,” she says, “or 140 words. It doesn’t have to be exactly 140, just not more. Want more challenge? Use the word of the week in your story.” (This part is optional. This week's word is arbitrary.)

How does Grandma come up with the weekly word? She doesn’t. Her daughter, who has not looked at the picture, suggests the word, which makes it more fun for everyone.
To see how other writer-bloggers interpreted the photo Grandma provided,
please click HERE!

Saturday, July 23, 2011

Pet Pride: Lindy loves her daddy, and visitors

Posted for the
Pet Pride meme
hosted by Lindy's friend Bozo
and his family in Mumbai.


To see other pets as
their owners see them,
please click
HERE!


Lindy's favorite person is her daddy, probably because he will stop to rub her tummy any time she wants, no matter where they are. In the photo below, they are out for an evening walk with Lindy's Uncle Clint (her mom's brother) and her Auntie Ria (Uncle Clint's wife Maria) at the coulee, not very far from Lindy's home. Like her friend Bozo, Lindy enjoys having visitors.

© Photos by Maria Davies

Shadows surround Dick and Lindy

© Photos by Maria Davies



My husband Dick and our dog Lindy were out walking with my brother Clint and his wife Maria last week. The evening shadows were getting longer, but the skies were still a pretty blue as they followed the path around the coulee a short distance from our house.

Posted for  Shadow Shot Sundayhosted every week by
Tracy at Hey Harriet! Thanks, Tracy!

To see other shadows as other people saw them, please click  HERE!



Rabbit and Robin camera critters

© Photos by Richard Schear    
Just look at that cute little face!

This youngster is the fattest robin I've ever seen!

Posted for the Camera Critters meme, hosted
each week by Misty Dawn. Thanks, Misty!

To see other critters captured by other cameras around the world, please click