We got our Christmas tree this weekend, which is remarkably early for us. We even managed to put it up the same day. (There have been years when the tree sits outside for a few days before coming inside.) I got a few photos of the kids decorating the tree, and this one was my favorite. The motion blur was completely unintentional, but it made such a beautiful circular pattern. As one friend commented on Instagram, it captures the feeling of the holidays.
It’s December, and so now I am free of my commitment to daily blogging. But it seems I’ve developed a habit, because I feel compelled to post something. So, here is a photo of a fallen leaf, adorned with water drops. It caught my eye this morning while I walked the dog.
So, I am squeezing out a few more drops of blogging. And just because, I am squeezing otu a few crops of the photo above. Mostly crops of the drops.
Tonight, I think I will start a book. Reading one, that is. And because it’s been a rather emotionally draining day (tax bill vote, I’m looking at you), I’m going to re-read one of my favorite books.
I’m sure anyone who regularly eats chococolate has had the disappointing exerience of having some that was exposed to heat before you had a chance to eat it. You eagerly open the package, and find that instead of a silky smooth and evenly dark brown surface, you have a blotchy discolored mass. Even more disappointingly, the texture of the chocolate is usually a bit changed, and not for the better.
I recently had several such moments, but instead of unadulterated disappointment, my disappointment was tempered by surprise and admiration. Somehow, my chocolate had transformed itself into little canvases, with fascinating abstract landscapes.
I ate them anyhow. After taking a few photos.
What do you see in these? In the first one (shown once cropped, and once in a hand), several people saw a winter scene.
What else do you see? I mean, aside from chocolate?
Somehow, I have made it to day 29 of (almost) daily blogging.
I was preparing dinner one evening earlier this month, and this potato caught my eye.
In fact, the potato’s eye caught my eye. And its eyebrow.
A few nights later, I was again cutting potatoes, and once more, a potato caught my eye. And looked back at me pleadingly.
Tell me you don’t see the face.
“She must be running out of ideas,” you may be thinking. “Surely she can find something to post about beyond potatoes.”
If you think I’m posting about potatoes because I’m tired and out of ideas, you are only partly right. In fact, this was a planned potato post. At least a partially planned potato post. You see, I have a past of presenting particularly peculiar produce. Witness the sad potato of 2015, the jaunty butternut squash of 2012, and the shifty-looking eggplant of 2011. Somehow, I managed to post each of these on November 21st in years past. This year, though, I guess I forgot. In spite of having prepared the potato pictures, the 21st past with nary a vegetable. (Out of curiosity, I checked the dates when I took the potato photos above. Oddly enough, it was on November 8th and November 13th. And while I did not post them on the 21st, I do notice that the sum of 8 and 13 is 21.) (And really, this part is just me rambling on because it’s late.)
In spite of the many hours I spent working on it over the last couple of days, the abstract I was working on last night failed to completely materialize. I did make substantial progress in bringing about the substance of the study, but my co-author was not available for the final push before the submission window closed.
The good news is that the project is much more substantive, and I was able to scare up some concrete data that will move us forward.
And on the theme of concrete, since that’s the way my mind works, I figured I would share these photos of some concrete art. The installation pictured was one I saw at Heritage Gardens and Museum in Sandwich, Massachusetts back in June. I really wish I could remember and/or find the name of the artist and the piece (or pieces?) because I found the installation quite enjoyable. What looks from afar like a field of gray rocks, upon closer examination turns out to be varied little concrete forms, created by pouring wet concrete into little cloth bags. The resulting abstract figures have a lot of character.