Photography

I originally sent this last night, but for some reason it didn’t post.  Perhaps it had something to do with the 3G service where we were.  And where we were was the BJCC (Birmingham-Jefferson Convention Complex) Theatre for the live musical 101 Dalmatians.  We were in the cheap seats, but we scored tickets for 46¢ each, so you know what they say about beggars.

The show was fun, featuring some clever stagecraft (and live dalmatians!) if not the most inspired book and direction.  And I can honestly say it’s the first time I’ve been to a nationally touring show sponsored by Purina.

Anyhow, this is the hanging fiber optic sculpture just outside our entry portal:

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I originally sent this last night, but for some reason it didn’t post.  Perhaps it had something to do with the 3G service where we were.  And where we were was the BJCC (Birmingham-Jefferson Convention Complex) Theatre for the live musical 101 Dalmatians.  We were in the cheap seats, but we scored tickets for 46¢ each, so you know what they say about beggars.

The show was fun, featuring some clever stagecraft (and live dalmatians!) if not the most inspired book and direction.  And I can honestly say it’s the first time I’ve been to a nationally touring show sponsored by Purina.

Anyhow, this is the hanging fiber optic sculpture just outside our entry portal:

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Posted via email from Wannabe Pics

I was an only child, and my wife was the only child of each of her parents’ 2nd marriage, so neither of us really knew anything about raising siblings. The loving way these two relate to one another – despite being four years apart – is proof of divine grace. We’re not nearly smart enough to figure this out on our own!

Our kids snuggle up in the papasan to peruse the latest copy of National Geographic Kids.

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Snow is a big deal here. Like a close-the-schools, hoard-non- perishables, sacrifice-a-virgin big deal. Last week forecasters began to hint at a “major snow event” for Thursday. I heard heady numbers like 7″-10″. Later, it settled into a more sober 2″. This little bit of slush on our patio table is all we got.

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We never take our Christmas tree down until after New Year’s Day. No particular reason – we’re just big kids, I guess. This year, however, we left it up for a specific purpose.

Tonight, Alabama plays for the football national championship. (Maybe you heard.) Considering that’s as big a holiday as most in our house, and given that we have a white tree bedecked with crimson balls and commemorative Bama ornaments, she’s now our championship tree.

Roll Tide Roll!

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If I could add up how many hours of my life have been spent staring at progress bars like this one while rendering video, it’d probably be too depressing for words. As it is, I’ve spent the better part of today staring at my computer, so it seemed an apt Picture of the Day.

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I had originally intended to shoot a frame of the remarkably clear, blue winter sky here in Central Alabama today. However, when the sun caused the iris to clamp down, I was reminded of the classic Hollywood trick known as day-for-night. Directors would shoot night scenes during the day and simply light and underexpose them to mimic nighttime lighting conditions, sometimes leaving the sun in frame to act as a full moon.

The French call this technique La Nuit Americaine, or American Night. This term was immortalized as the title of A 1974 film by Francois Truffaut. The film is study of the ridiculous lengths to which filmmakers will go to achieve their vision.

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We found our cat at the local humane society 6 1/2 years ago. Rather, he found us. We had gone there to look at a different cat, but didn’t care for her personality. In a room with literally hundreds of felines of all ages, shapes, sizes and breeds, we weren’t finding “the right one.”

Only the cats with personality issues were locked in their cages, or so we were told. Standing in a corner, kittens climbing all over my 6’2″ frame, I suddenly felt something (or someone) tapping on my ankle. I looked down, and in the lowermost corner cage, I spotted a sweet little face and an outstretched paw patting my leg as if to say, “I’m the one.” (continued below)

We asked why he was locked up, and the worker said she didn’t know. He had a great demeanor. I got him out, handed him to my wife, and he immediately relaxed into her arms. When he licked our daughter’s finger, we were sold.

The cat, named Jacques by shelter workers, had to stay at there two more days until he was “fixed.” We went back to visit him the next day. As soon as we entered the room, he spotted us, ran across the tops of the cabinets, jumped down and lay at my feet.

We thought he was full grown, due to his size. We learned that he was actually only four months old. Now he’s a 16-pound behemoth. We renamed him Pippin, after Peregrin Took from The Lord of the Rings, for his penchant for mischief.

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As one of my New Year’s resolutions, I’ve resumed work on my first novel, Midlife Mouse. I’m currently trying to wrap up chapter four, According to The Bus Driver.

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Time to retire this year’s gingerbread house.

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