I hope you all had very happy holidays, it seems like they came and went in a hurry.
We did get an unexpected visitor on Christmas day. We have NEVER seen this in the woods, NEVER! I know that they are in the state, but this was the most amazing Christmas gift. AN EAGLE!!!!
The close up is not sharp at all, but I was using a shorter lens and as you can see in the image below, the eagle was quite a distance away. I was zoomed out to 300mm and this still makes it look closer than it actually was. If not for the sharp eyes of my son, who called out to all of us circling the dessert table that there was an eagle in the trees, we would have missed it entirely!
James Dean…an American actor and icon. He spent his younger years growing up on a farm in Fairmount,Indiana. We took a road trip this summer and visited Fairmount, passing this art gallery on the way to find lunch. It was a hot, still day and in some ways a little eerie.
The video below is about an hour long, but it’s intriguing. James became one of the hottest stars in Hollywood at a very young age and with his gorgeous looks,also became quite the sex symbol.He was a HUGE fan of race cars and speed and tragically died as the result of a car accident while driving a Porsche 550 Spyder. There’s always been myth and mystery surrounding the car and it’s disappearance after his death.
We’re a family who appreciates beautiful cars, no football for us, bring on the occasional car show.
Every year there’s a big car show in Fairmount, where James is buried and it’s very busy, very crowded.
We wanted to cruise through the small town when the festival WASN’T taking place and it was soooo quiet, probably very much like it was when James Dean lived there.
I know, this is really different from my normal posts, but it’s time to shake things up a little. Aaaaccckkk! This could be a disaster, lol!
One of the original doors to the Palmer House Hotel in Chicago, Illinois.
Some of you will remember the herd of horses I used to photograph all the time. Although they’ve moved on to new homes, I still love looking at my favorites from time to time.
This is Oliver when he was just a little kitty, we called him, “The Cat from Hell.”
He would race like a maniac through my son’s house, and in his downtime he’d steal pickles and pizza slices and put them in shoes.
If we went to visit and stayed overnight, we spent the night sleepless, waiting to be pounced on in a sneak attack.
Being a cat, night time was his favorite. When they didn’t have overnight guests, he spent a large portion of the midnight hours unrolling the toilet paper in my son’s bathroom.
At about a year and a half of age, Ollie came to live with us. Our son moved for work to Wisconsin and there was not going to be enough room or action in the little studio apartment to entertain a busy cat.
We could provide a dog to chew on, birds to watch and plenty of hiding places. The cat from hell was very happy, he didn’t mind being scolded for scaring a hearing impaired, sixteen year old dog, ten times a day.
Little Max left us almost two years ago and the more time that goes by, the more Oliver has focused on me. He likes to rip my bangs out while I sleep…(I DO wake up when he does it.)
Hiding on top of the refrigerator and then sliding down it like a snake when I walk by has become a favorite pastime. If one eye closes half way, his eyes dilate and his ears go back, I know I’m in deep doo-doo.
I now emit blood-curdling screams in my sleep. I am not making this up. I’m going to give my husband a heart attack and the cat from hell will be all curled up on the back of the sofa acting innocent when the ambulance gets here.