Howsoever that may be, on account of the weather (brisk, or should that be brisque?), there wasn't much opportunity to capture the maternal foot-digits on camera today (they were ensocked), so I gratuitously substitute the things that I did capture on camera, and we can but hope that me mum's toes will appear in daguerreotype at some point in the future.
Lassies and lads, I present to you Photos!, fired straight from the Canon.
These are what we in the captioning business call "leaves". They live and move and have their being in Bright. Except for the moving bit. And the living bit, actually, since these guys are more or less dead.
These, also leaves, only slightly yellower and more, like, on the ground.
Yes, leaves.
More a sort of tree, leaf, grass combination shot.
A fence. Not that any self-respecting wombat would bat an eyelid.
13 comments:
Sigh! She sings, she plays bagpipes and harp, she makes the odd hat and she's a dab hand with a camera too, in addition to all her other accomplishments.
(Saunters off to feel manifestly inadequate in comparison, although she did enjoy high tea with her own progenitress and fellow progeny today).
...she makes the odd hat
I didn't know you made odd hats. Where did you pick up this habit for making eccentric haberdashery? Do you know an eccentric haberdasher?
Got an idea. Based on that last pic, you could call this post 'Leaves of Grass'.
That title's not taken, is it?
Aw, Karen, that's very nice of you to say, but I have such a flash camera I don't think I can take any credit for whatever merit you see in 'em photeaux.
Hats? Hats? When did I ever mention my millinerarianism? As it happens, I have made the odd hat, testing my trigonometric skills to the full, but they're nothing to write home about.
Tim: nice, but you know, me and the Whitmaniac, we like to keep our distance.
Um, I don't know when you've said it, but I remember that you make hats. It's the sort of detail I'm inclined to remember. And it can't possibly be all the camera- the human being has to have the eye, you know! It is obviously a very, very nice camera.
Am I to understand that you are not fond of Whitman?
Tim, I will twist your words back at you so brilliantly one day that you will have no possible reply.
I have mixed feelings about Whitman. I find the vast, patriarchal, demagogic, romantic egoism a little unnerving, but I like that he gets lyrical about internal organs.
lmao. YOU
ARE
HILARIOUS...
I started blogger as part of a uni assessment but was just taking a gander and slipping between blogs of the Spanish/English dialect, only the latter comprehensible when I found urs and had a good little giggle...
*reads on more blogs*
SEEYA! :)
Aw, shucks. Thanks, Alextricity. That's the nicest thing anyone's said all day (except that I'm cute, which I don't really believe).
Hope you have fun meandering round l'internet terrible.
Yes, Alexis, you are hilarious and cute!
A little lyricism about one's internal organs can conceal a multitude of sins (which sounds very much like a cue for one of Tim's poems, but do we really want to encourage him?).
As for Whitman, I suppose I'm seduced by the unbriddled sensuality of it all and how joyful and unselfconscious it is in its sensuousness. There's something quite admirable and enviable about not being frightened of one's own desires. I take the point about the romantic egoism, but I think that romantic egoism can also move beyond its confines to a real letting go of the ego and, dare I say it, a kind of humility.
But then, I do have a great men fetish and I especially like the demagogic ones!
Love the composition Lex - you've got such a good eye. And I sympathise with the cute thing, whenever I'm irritable with that tall man I scowl at him thinking he will cower in the corner (alright, hoping he will cower) and all I get is a saucy grin and those dreaded words "Aww you're so cuuute". Perhaps we need to take some sort of prjecting nastiness classes? I know I could often use some of that round the office...
Yep, being thought cute's all well and good when you need to harness the behaviour that cuteness elicits. If being cute means you get extra chocolate, say, then bring it on. But when it means folks stop hearing the words coming out of your mouth, then cuteness is a serious liability.
Karen, I get the unbridled sensuality thing, but I just don't find his writing all that beautiful. And I'm a sucker for beauty, when it comes to pomes.
I don't think your "cuteness' could ever be the liability sort of cuteness. You are cute in a very scholarly, intellectual way. I would think that your students would like and respect you very much. I once had an bit of an argument with someone who wanted me to assume a more "school marmish" tone, which I just find impossible.
I suppose it all comes down to personal taste. I don't know if I would call Whitman beautiful either, but it's got a vigour to it that I like.
A bit, not "an bit". God, how I hate afternoon butterfingers!
Someone wanted you to assume a more authoritarian tone and then tried arguing with you about it? "Appear to be more authoritarian! I insist!" How strange.
I know these attributions of cuteness are meant affectionately, but I instinct is to reject cuteness - the whole darn concept - and possibly the horse it rode in on.
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