Pietro and Watson

they took it!

before ------------- after

I snapped this picture at the HF Bar last weekend without a tripod. I brought my tripod but for some reason I always feel self conscious about pulling it out in public so the shot wasn't quite as sharp as I would have liked. After retouching it I liked it so well that I decided to submit it Shutterstock fully expecting them to reject it on focus, lighting, or both. But they took it! I know, big deal. But it made me happy.

Stargazing at the HF Bar

Zoe and I went to an overnight stargazing program at the HF Bar ranch last night. I'm not capable of successfully photographing the night sky so I didn't even try.

I did take these snapshots this morning after breakfast. They don't compare to the stars.

The sky was so clear we were actually able to see the Milky Way with our bare eyes, along with a great view of Jupiter, it's rings, and 4 of it's moons (via telescope).

My favorite was the owl star cluster.

It was a really great program. Thanks so much to everyone involved in putting it on!

www.hfbar.com

sciencekids

Sam Singer

How to Be Alone by Tanya Davis

if i were a bird...

i'd be in love right now.

unable to feign an interest in soccer...

I drew a bird.

Zoe

I took some pictures of Zoe this week to include with my mom's birthday present. Although not very clear I liked this one.

the taste test

The garden is waning so Hanging Horn decided it was time he tested the crops. He couldn't choose for himself because we have perennial flowers, strawberries, and raspberry/blueberry bushes that he'd have been more than happy to destroy. He wants you to know that it was completely frustrating to be forced to sample from outside the gate. Still, he managed to swallow his pride, along with some lettuce, basil, carrot, a bean plant, and a roma tomato before deciding that they were all equally delicious, even the bean's stalk. I guess that means it wasn't so much a "taste test" as an exercise in gluttony. Whatever it was, he really enjoyed it and now has one more thing to pester us about.

Mosh pit anyone???

As a hermetic home schooling parent of an almost 16 year old daughter living in a somewhat isolated mountain retirement community I sometimes find myself going to questionable lengths to provide her with social “opportunities”. Last night as I sat trying to disappear into a wall, I was surrounded by a hundred or more drunken, head banging, slam dancing, high schoolers flailing spastically to what I can only describe as deafening percussion abuse. I had to remind myself that this little outing was my idea. Zoe and I had plans for dinner and a movie when I saw a poster reading “Wyoming Punk meets Colorado Heavy Metal (all ages welcome!)” and I thought this might be an opportunity for her to meet people her own age. But who in their right mind willingly escorts their 15 year old daughter to a squalid rave??? When we first got there I planted myself next to the only open window in the place hoping to locate air amidst the impenetrable smoke. Taking it all in, I rejected all common sense to get the hell out of there. A little meditative centering while reminding myself to be open minded and non-judgmental brought me around to see how funny it all was. My mind flip-flopped between “she'll chalk this up to life experience” and “what am I going to do as one of the only adults here when the police bust the doors down”? Then I reminded myself that there were a couple of other potential chaperones. There was the middle aged, pot-bellied, drunk guy in the Harley t-shirt and tiny revealing cut-offs who was trying to pick me up. And the 80 year old dude wearing an exhaust mask that I imagine was grandpa to someone in the band based on his persistence with the digital camera. Plus there was the big bald dude wearing the security t-shirt, surely he was over 18. Once I'd convinced myself that just showing up to such an event did not make everything that was going on “my” responsibility, I started to worry about what I was going to do when the floor of caved in. I quickly decided that as long as I clung to the window ledge I'd be okay before realizing that Zoe was mingling 50 feet away. I never did figure out how I was going to fly over, snatch her up and get back to that window before we were all buried in rubble.

The longer we stayed the more amused I became. These were the very kids I was terrified of in high school. The very ones who taught me to disappear into walls in the first place. When they walked by my locker or entered the bathroom I became invisible. And here I was 30 years later as if time didn't exist. I had to wonder if Zoe was as taken aback by them as I would have been at her age but she seemed okay. When we got home she wrote on her blog:

i smell like an ashtray

local wyoming band performances sure are...

i don’t know what they are but they aren’t something i want

to see again.

i have a headache.

We left after the first band, no more “socialized” than when we arrived.

Oh well, community college starts in January. If nothing else, it should be quieter. :)