Face Shot
posted by NWO at
5:19 AM
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4 comments
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Friday, July 17, 2009
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Monday, July 13, 2009
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Friday, July 10, 2009
Thursday, July 09, 2009
Tuesday, July 07, 2009
Sunday, July 05, 2009
Fire!
I happened upon the scene just as a fire was breaking out in heavy brush near a small town.
It was hard to spot flames, but there was plenty of smoke.
It was a multi-alarm fire with multiple agencies responding.
This team was near the point of origin for the fire, next to a bike path.
Peering into the charred scene was eerie.
There were still spots burning here while the fire raged downwind.
This woman was intent on her job.
While this woman was intent on saving her nearby home. (The wind pushed the fire away.)
Eventually, the fire crossed 4 lanes of freeway. The freeway had to be closed due to smoke and firefighting equipment, causing major havoc with holiday travelers on the interstate.
The wind swept the flames up this small hill in seconds.
The fire was brought under control about 4 hours after breaking out.
It was hard to spot flames, but there was plenty of smoke.
It was a multi-alarm fire with multiple agencies responding.
This team was near the point of origin for the fire, next to a bike path.
Peering into the charred scene was eerie.
There were still spots burning here while the fire raged downwind.
This woman was intent on her job.
While this woman was intent on saving her nearby home. (The wind pushed the fire away.)
Eventually, the fire crossed 4 lanes of freeway. The freeway had to be closed due to smoke and firefighting equipment, causing major havoc with holiday travelers on the interstate.
The wind swept the flames up this small hill in seconds.
The fire was brought under control about 4 hours after breaking out.
posted by NWO at
8:16 PM
|
2 comments
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Saturday, July 04, 2009
Freedom is...
Life!
Liberty!
And endless pursuit of happiness!
Liberty!
And endless pursuit of happiness!
posted by NWO at
10:44 PM
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1 comments
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Thursday, July 02, 2009
Wednesday, July 01, 2009
Best Interview Question
I have a favorite interview question that I ask job candidates: "Tell me about your worst boss ever." I ask it because (1) it tells me a bit about their views of work and being supervised, and (2) it reveals a bit about coping skills, and (3) it often makes for great stories.
On Tuesday, I think I got the best answer yet to that question.
Me: So tell me about your worst boss.
Young woman candidate, without hesitating: When I was in high school, I worked at 31 Flavors. My boss made me work on prom night. That was a big thing and I never forgave her.
We all laugh
Me: Was that the worst thing she did?
Young woman: Oh, no, there was more. For example, we had a tip jar on the counter, and it collected quite a bit of money each day. But she wouldn't let us split it: s
he kept it and said it was to "pay for the air conditioning here in the summer." But later she got breast implants, so you can guess what she was doing with the money.
We all laugh, harder, longer
On Tuesday, I think I got the best answer yet to that question.
Me: So tell me about your worst boss.
Young woman candidate, without hesitating: When I was in high school, I worked at 31 Flavors. My boss made me work on prom night. That was a big thing and I never forgave her.
We all laugh
Me: Was that the worst thing she did?
Young woman: Oh, no, there was more. For example, we had a tip jar on the counter, and it collected quite a bit of money each day. But she wouldn't let us split it: s
he kept it and said it was to "pay for the air conditioning here in the summer." But later she got breast implants, so you can guess what she was doing with the money.We all laugh, harder, longer
posted by NWO at
5:31 AM
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3 comments
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Tuesday, June 30, 2009
On Air Travel
A journey is like marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it.
~John Steinbeck
I'm sure that airports are now the new place for natural selection to occur: The weak, the obese, the tired and the hungry are unlikely to survive this new hostile environment. As I waited (and waited, and waited) in line to check the bags, a poor, wheezing/limping older woman approached the overwhelmed ticket agent to request a wheelchair. The agent, without making eye contact, waved her off and simply said "there's one around here somewhere." The woman limped and wheezed her way away from the counter to fend for herself. This is the same agent who told us that one of our bags was overweight and "step over there" (right in front of about 100 other people waiting in single-file line) to fix the problem. So I took a few heavy items out of bag 2 to put into bag 1, only to be told that bag 1 had already been put on the conveyor. But life is good!
The sun rose over the tail of my plane as they called our flight; the first leg of the trip to Denver was fine. After a plane change in Denver (where I cashed in a winning $1 scratch off ticket left over from my last visit there in August, w00t!) I was on a flight to Dulles in Washington DC.
Thirty minutes from the airport in DC, the plane started circling, and the pilot announced a delay. He implied that it was weather-related, but we found out later that it was due to some problem at the gate that prevented us from landing on time.
When we finally disembarked, it was at the same time as my next flight was scheduled to take off. It took a few minutes to find a departure schedule board, and when I found the schedule my next flight was not listed. I assumed that it had left already and knew that I was in for a long afternoon. Fortunately, Customer Service was right there, so I got in line to find out how they planned to get me to my destination. The line did not move. Ten minutes later, I got an email notice on my phone that my connecting flight was leaving in five minutes! How could that be??? A re-check of the schedule board confirmed what was in my email, but the flight was leaving from another concourse which was a 10 minute run from where I was standing in the terminal. I took off in a race-walk and arrived to the new gate to find an empty waiting area, and to a gate agent who seemed unconcerned about my problems as she told me the plane had left "some time ago."
Back in a different Customer Service line, with another long wait. In front of me was a distinguished older gentleman who also missed the plane to Portland, Maine. We chatted, and his destination was Kennebunkport, so I make a joke about seeing "George" while he was there. It turned out, this man is a cousin of the ex-president, and they are next door neighbors. He wore a necktie with parachute decor, which GB had given to all the spectators at his last jump. He seemed to be a great guy, and the time in the line passed quickly as we chatted. He stepped to the counter just ahead of me, and greeted the Customer Service Agent warmly. The agent replied with, "you're the first person today to say something nice." It was infectious: I greeted my agent warmly, and she gave back the warmest smiles and lightened up. As did the person behind me. (It ended with person #4 who seemed to enjoy the drama and martyrdom of missing her flight.)
The solution for my problem was to book me on a flight from Reagan International Airport, about an hour away, on a different airline. I was told to go to "carousel #1" for my bags, and told that they should be there soon. After about 20 minutes of nothing appearing on the carousel, I asked someone in uniform about the bags, and she said "sometimes it can take an hour."
So I settled in, and after an hour asked a different uniform, who seemed amused that we'd waited all that time. "I'll call the handlers for that flight, but I don't know what to tell you." After another 10 minutes, connecting with our flight from Reagan seemed to be getting problematic so we simply left with our carry-ons and caught a taxi at the expense of the airline. I could only hope that the baggage would somehow find us.
Our driver was a Pakistani-American, a delightful fellow who enjoyed his job, enjoyed meeting people, and who pointed out the limited sights we could see on our ride. We arrived at Reagan at exactly the time he promised when we entered the cab, with plenty of time to check in, get a snack, and board.
(Note the stuffed camels on the dash; a gift from a customer from Egypt.)
Dulles had been busy, packed with people landing and departing. Reagan was quiet, nearly empty, and the design was striking and awesome compared to the utilitarian architecture at Dulles. And there was a Starbucks, so I felt safe.
We should have had only a short wait for the plane at Reagan. But a three hour delay in the arrival of our plane changed that short wait into endless wait. At last, we took off at 1 a.m., arriving in Portland at about 2:00.
Fortunately, in the meantime I'd called United regarding my luggage, and they informed me that the luggage had been sent on a flight that arrived in Portland at midnight. So our Maine hosts picked up the suitcases for us before United closed up shop for the evening.
It was a long drive back through the Maine darkness until dawn began around 3:30.
(This is a few days from the solstice, and Maine should technically be on Atlantic time, so the sun comes up extraordinarily early.) We stopped a couple of times at the few places open for coffee at that hour,
and finally arrived at our destination at about6 a.m. My host, who had driven for 10 hours that day to come get us and return to Aroostook County, got four hours' sleep before going in to work at 11 a.m.
--
The return trip began with the wakeup call at 2:30 a.m. to begin the five hour journey back to Portland for our 11 a.m. flight. Again, we experienced the 3:30 a.m. sunrise and the gas-station coffee, and arrived at PWM a bit early. I was the second in line at the United counter, handed the agent our documents so he could check our bags, and he kept typing into the computer. "It's not letting me add you." As he struggled with the computer, I got a text message from United on my phone letting me know that the flight was canceled. "See a ticket agent." Apparently they inform customers of the change before they inform ticket agents.
Meanwhile, the 130 or so people on the flight began lining up behind us (it was a full plane). Sparing the details, our flight was very difficult to re-book. What was supposed to be a PWM-ORD-DEN-Oregon flight on United could not be re-created in simple terms. After at least an hour (the folks behind us were starting to look angry) we were booked on Delta from Portland, American from JFK, and Alaskan from Seattle! I knew immediately that my luggage would not arrive with me.
We boarded Delta three hours after our United flight had been scheduled (it was delayed coming in) and we finally pushed from the gate, where we sat on the tarmac for another forty minutes. (Weather delays at JFK.) Finally, we're in the air and take the short, stunningly beautiful flight down the coast, over Long Island, into JFK. We then sat on the tarmac for 40 minutes while they cleared the gate to allow us to park. I was looking at the time and did not see how we'd make our next connection. I Googled the terminal map on my phone, and found out that American is about as far from Delta as it could possibly be, and we'd have to go through security again. We ran down the concourse (carrying about 40 lbs of carry-ons), out the doors, across three lanes of traffic, up the elevator, and boarded the train. From Terminal 1, we made our way by train to Terminal 8. The automated train did not sense our desperation as it made its way slowly down the track, stopping at each terminal.
The door opened at the right terminal, and it's down the steps, across traffic, down the longest terminal corridor in the history of mankind, to the security area. It is now 6 minutes before departure, and our gate is #38. Security staff were dismissive of our sense of urgency, and seemed to take our agitation as a sign that they needed to slow down and be more thorough in checking our Stuff. Departure time arrived, and we had just made it through the TSA checkpoint but were a long way from the gate. We sprint in a loaded-with-40-pounds-of-shit sort of way up escalators, along moving sidewalks, down escalators, along more moving sidewalks across the concourse. (Was that the wheezing/limping sick lady I just pushed out of my way??) I turned the corner in the terminal, passing gate 32 and I could hear the "final boarding, the gates are closing" boarding call. I do the final sprint the last few yards to the gate agent, hand him the pass, and he clicks the computer and waves me down the jetway to the plane. Where I stand for 10 minutes while people in the plane slowly pack their carry-ons and seat themselves. Four young guys make it in after us, joking about how they hadn't heard the multiple boarding calls in the bar. Finally we push off from the gate and--you guessed it--sit on the tarmac for 45 minutes while they wait for the thunderstorms to pass. The pilot said he'd make it up in the air (which I doubted but which he did, in fact, do) and they passed out snacks and started the movie. We were well into the movie when we finally barreled down the runway.
Other than being long, this flight was unremarkable. Well, except for one thing: I was surrounded by redheads. I'm in 34C. In 33B: a Copper-haired redhead, her hair often hanging over her seat begging me to caress it. (Yes, I'm a sick puppy.) 31A: deep red. 33E, strawberry blond. 35F, lovely-looking deep-strawberry blond. If the plane were to go down, I knew that I'd go with a smile on my face.
The arrival in SEA-TAC was smooth, and allowed just enough time to walk across the mile or so of terminal, get boarding passes, and load. For once, the plane left on time. Alaska serves free beer and wine, and the attendants are friendly and casual in the way of the Northwest. The little turboprop had the most legroom of any plane on the trip. We landed home at midnight, spent an hour waiting for the bags that never arrived and filing a claim, and were asleep by 2 a.m.
A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent on arriving.
~Lao Tzu
No one realizes how beautiful it is to travel until he comes home and rests his head on his old, familiar pillow.
~Lin Yutang
~John Steinbeck
I'm sure that airports are now the new place for natural selection to occur: The weak, the obese, the tired and the hungry are unlikely to survive this new hostile environment. As I waited (and waited, and waited) in line to check the bags, a poor, wheezing/limping older woman approached the overwhelmed ticket agent to request a wheelchair. The agent, without making eye contact, waved her off and simply said "there's one around here somewhere." The woman limped and wheezed her way away from the counter to fend for herself. This is the same agent who told us that one of our bags was overweight and "step over there" (right in front of about 100 other people waiting in single-file line) to fix the problem. So I took a few heavy items out of bag 2 to put into bag 1, only to be told that bag 1 had already been put on the conveyor. But life is good!
The sun rose over the tail of my plane as they called our flight; the first leg of the trip to Denver was fine. After a plane change in Denver (where I cashed in a winning $1 scratch off ticket left over from my last visit there in August, w00t!) I was on a flight to Dulles in Washington DC.Thirty minutes from the airport in DC, the plane started circling, and the pilot announced a delay. He implied that it was weather-related, but we found out later that it was due to some problem at the gate that prevented us from landing on time.
When we finally disembarked, it was at the same time as my next flight was scheduled to take off. It took a few minutes to find a departure schedule board, and when I found the schedule my next flight was not listed. I assumed that it had left already and knew that I was in for a long afternoon. Fortunately, Customer Service was right there, so I got in line to find out how they planned to get me to my destination. The line did not move. Ten minutes later, I got an email notice on my phone that my connecting flight was leaving in five minutes! How could that be??? A re-check of the schedule board confirmed what was in my email, but the flight was leaving from another concourse which was a 10 minute run from where I was standing in the terminal. I took off in a race-walk and arrived to the new gate to find an empty waiting area, and to a gate agent who seemed unconcerned about my problems as she told me the plane had left "some time ago."
Back in a different Customer Service line, with another long wait. In front of me was a distinguished older gentleman who also missed the plane to Portland, Maine. We chatted, and his destination was Kennebunkport, so I make a joke about seeing "George" while he was there. It turned out, this man is a cousin of the ex-president, and they are next door neighbors. He wore a necktie with parachute decor, which GB had given to all the spectators at his last jump. He seemed to be a great guy, and the time in the line passed quickly as we chatted. He stepped to the counter just ahead of me, and greeted the Customer Service Agent warmly. The agent replied with, "you're the first person today to say something nice." It was infectious: I greeted my agent warmly, and she gave back the warmest smiles and lightened up. As did the person behind me. (It ended with person #4 who seemed to enjoy the drama and martyrdom of missing her flight.)
The solution for my problem was to book me on a flight from Reagan International Airport, about an hour away, on a different airline. I was told to go to "carousel #1" for my bags, and told that they should be there soon. After about 20 minutes of nothing appearing on the carousel, I asked someone in uniform about the bags, and she said "sometimes it can take an hour."
So I settled in, and after an hour asked a different uniform, who seemed amused that we'd waited all that time. "I'll call the handlers for that flight, but I don't know what to tell you." After another 10 minutes, connecting with our flight from Reagan seemed to be getting problematic so we simply left with our carry-ons and caught a taxi at the expense of the airline. I could only hope that the baggage would somehow find us.
Our driver was a Pakistani-American, a delightful fellow who enjoyed his job, enjoyed meeting people, and who pointed out the limited sights we could see on our ride. We arrived at Reagan at exactly the time he promised when we entered the cab, with plenty of time to check in, get a snack, and board.
(Note the stuffed camels on the dash; a gift from a customer from Egypt.)
Dulles had been busy, packed with people landing and departing. Reagan was quiet, nearly empty, and the design was striking and awesome compared to the utilitarian architecture at Dulles. And there was a Starbucks, so I felt safe.
We should have had only a short wait for the plane at Reagan. But a three hour delay in the arrival of our plane changed that short wait into endless wait. At last, we took off at 1 a.m., arriving in Portland at about 2:00.
Fortunately, in the meantime I'd called United regarding my luggage, and they informed me that the luggage had been sent on a flight that arrived in Portland at midnight. So our Maine hosts picked up the suitcases for us before United closed up shop for the evening.It was a long drive back through the Maine darkness until dawn began around 3:30.
(This is a few days from the solstice, and Maine should technically be on Atlantic time, so the sun comes up extraordinarily early.) We stopped a couple of times at the few places open for coffee at that hour,
and finally arrived at our destination at about6 a.m. My host, who had driven for 10 hours that day to come get us and return to Aroostook County, got four hours' sleep before going in to work at 11 a.m.--
The return trip began with the wakeup call at 2:30 a.m. to begin the five hour journey back to Portland for our 11 a.m. flight. Again, we experienced the 3:30 a.m. sunrise and the gas-station coffee, and arrived at PWM a bit early. I was the second in line at the United counter, handed the agent our documents so he could check our bags, and he kept typing into the computer. "It's not letting me add you." As he struggled with the computer, I got a text message from United on my phone letting me know that the flight was canceled. "See a ticket agent." Apparently they inform customers of the change before they inform ticket agents.
Meanwhile, the 130 or so people on the flight began lining up behind us (it was a full plane). Sparing the details, our flight was very difficult to re-book. What was supposed to be a PWM-ORD-DEN-Oregon flight on United could not be re-created in simple terms. After at least an hour (the folks behind us were starting to look angry) we were booked on Delta from Portland, American from JFK, and Alaskan from Seattle! I knew immediately that my luggage would not arrive with me.
We boarded Delta three hours after our United flight had been scheduled (it was delayed coming in) and we finally pushed from the gate, where we sat on the tarmac for another forty minutes. (Weather delays at JFK.) Finally, we're in the air and take the short, stunningly beautiful flight down the coast, over Long Island, into JFK. We then sat on the tarmac for 40 minutes while they cleared the gate to allow us to park. I was looking at the time and did not see how we'd make our next connection. I Googled the terminal map on my phone, and found out that American is about as far from Delta as it could possibly be, and we'd have to go through security again. We ran down the concourse (carrying about 40 lbs of carry-ons), out the doors, across three lanes of traffic, up the elevator, and boarded the train. From Terminal 1, we made our way by train to Terminal 8. The automated train did not sense our desperation as it made its way slowly down the track, stopping at each terminal.
The door opened at the right terminal, and it's down the steps, across traffic, down the longest terminal corridor in the history of mankind, to the security area. It is now 6 minutes before departure, and our gate is #38. Security staff were dismissive of our sense of urgency, and seemed to take our agitation as a sign that they needed to slow down and be more thorough in checking our Stuff. Departure time arrived, and we had just made it through the TSA checkpoint but were a long way from the gate. We sprint in a loaded-with-40-pounds-of-shit sort of way up escalators, along moving sidewalks, down escalators, along more moving sidewalks across the concourse. (Was that the wheezing/limping sick lady I just pushed out of my way??) I turned the corner in the terminal, passing gate 32 and I could hear the "final boarding, the gates are closing" boarding call. I do the final sprint the last few yards to the gate agent, hand him the pass, and he clicks the computer and waves me down the jetway to the plane. Where I stand for 10 minutes while people in the plane slowly pack their carry-ons and seat themselves. Four young guys make it in after us, joking about how they hadn't heard the multiple boarding calls in the bar. Finally we push off from the gate and--you guessed it--sit on the tarmac for 45 minutes while they wait for the thunderstorms to pass. The pilot said he'd make it up in the air (which I doubted but which he did, in fact, do) and they passed out snacks and started the movie. We were well into the movie when we finally barreled down the runway.
Other than being long, this flight was unremarkable. Well, except for one thing: I was surrounded by redheads. I'm in 34C. In 33B: a Copper-haired redhead, her hair often hanging over her seat begging me to caress it. (Yes, I'm a sick puppy.) 31A: deep red. 33E, strawberry blond. 35F, lovely-looking deep-strawberry blond. If the plane were to go down, I knew that I'd go with a smile on my face.
The arrival in SEA-TAC was smooth, and allowed just enough time to walk across the mile or so of terminal, get boarding passes, and load. For once, the plane left on time. Alaska serves free beer and wine, and the attendants are friendly and casual in the way of the Northwest. The little turboprop had the most legroom of any plane on the trip. We landed home at midnight, spent an hour waiting for the bags that never arrived and filing a claim, and were asleep by 2 a.m.
A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent on arriving.
~Lao Tzu
No one realizes how beautiful it is to travel until he comes home and rests his head on his old, familiar pillow.
~Lin Yutang
posted by NWO at
5:29 AM
|
6 comments
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Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Things I Learned in Canada
A horse who farts does not tire
A man who farts is the one to hire.
eh
A man who farts is the one to hire.
eh
posted by NWO at
5:21 PM
|
0 comments
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Saturday, June 20, 2009
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Flying Away
Be back in a couple of weeks (or sooner if I have internet).
posted by NWO at
5:16 AM
|
2 comments
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Monday, June 15, 2009
Parade Day
This is the 150th year anniversary of Oregon's statehood. This little piece captures a morning at one of the gold-rush era town's celebration. (Sound on, please.)
In two days I head to Maine. Depending on internet access, this may be my last post for a while. Be well, enjoy the moments!
In two days I head to Maine. Depending on internet access, this may be my last post for a while. Be well, enjoy the moments!
posted by NWO at
4:49 AM
|
1 comments
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Thursday, June 11, 2009
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
Monday, June 08, 2009
T Minus 9 Days
Packing list
1. Charger for iPhone
a. Car
b. House
2. GPS
3. Camera
a. Telephoto 70-200
b. Regular 24-105
c. 2X extender
d. Tripod or monopod
e. Backpack
f. HD for photos
g. Backup camera for snapshots and video
h. Charger for SLR
i. Charger for backup
j. Extra Flash Memory
4. Passport
5. Tickets
6. Bag of Hazelnuts
7. Laptop
a. Citrix fob
b. Cable
8. Underwear
Things to do
1. Take the Canadian Dollar coin from my drawer
2. Read up on moose behavior.
3. Read up on first aid for antler trauma.
4. Practice Micmac until I can pronounce Aroostook correctly.
5. Accept that the Chamber of Commerce lists 3 bowling alleys, 1 "Bear Hunting," but NO coffee shops.
Labels: missin SRF already, vacation
posted by NWO at
5:15 AM
|
8 comments
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Friday, June 05, 2009
Life Is Good
But don't spend all your time mowing.
posted by NWO at
5:05 AM
|
4 comments
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Thursday, June 04, 2009
Spam Subject Line Poetry Zen
She'll reward you so much
Bigger always gets more action
Wish to remember a youth?
Master all her pleasures
Intense FFemale Orgasms
Turn your bedroom life into a volcano of pleasure
Getting an erection is the way to perfection
It is more. Thicker. Longer. More long
Larger thing, extra pleasure
Waiting for you near the bus-stop
Your insatiable chick will be full of pleasure
Be proud while naked!
Paris Hilton pees like men
Make your pole a foot long
Tap her hole and drill her
Important Tips to Help Yourr Woman Achieve Stunning Orgasms Through Cunnilingus
Be the King of pleasure
Fast response of your meatstick
Satanist housewife cooked cats!
Change your toothpick into a battering ram
Bigger always gets more action
Wish to remember a youth?
Master all her pleasures
Intense FFemale Orgasms
Turn your bedroom life into a volcano of pleasure
Getting an erection is the way to perfection
It is more. Thicker. Longer. More long
Larger thing, extra pleasure
Waiting for you near the bus-stop
Your insatiable chick will be full of pleasure
Be proud while naked!
Paris Hilton pees like men
Make your pole a foot long
Tap her hole and drill her
Important Tips to Help Yourr Woman Achieve Stunning Orgasms Through Cunnilingus
Be the King of pleasure
Fast response of your meatstick
Satanist housewife cooked cats!
Change your toothpick into a battering ram
posted by NWO at
4:57 AM
|
6 comments
links to this post
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
Run Little Pilgrim...
...The sun is coming up!
posted by NWO at
5:10 AM
|
4 comments
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Tuesday, June 02, 2009
From "Best of Craigslist"
Try this (adultish) link.
posted by NWO at
8:42 PM
|
1 comments
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If You Experience Burning Upon Urination...
...call your doctor.
posted by NWO at
5:28 AM
|
2 comments
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Monday, June 01, 2009
Electric!
We've had several days of thunder storms here. I can't be sure if this is the one, but about the time I took this photo, lightning struck a mobile home in the general direction of this shot.
Caught this outside my house Sunday night.
Caught this outside my house Sunday night.
posted by NWO at
7:22 PM
|
4 comments
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Fraternity of Firefighters
Every photographer has favorite shots. I'm sure that the one below will become one of mine. Dad brought his son to a fire training, where an actual structure was filled with smoke for rescue training, then set ablaze for demolition. There is a sweetness to the son's gesture that I just love.
Quite a lot of media was at the site (fires make for great visuals!), and these two were probably the most-photographed of anybody there.
The firefighters passed out toy yellow fire hats to kids who were watching, and some got to help man the hoses. This girl give it her full attention.
Ear to ear grins when her turn was done.
Quite a lot of media was at the site (fires make for great visuals!), and these two were probably the most-photographed of anybody there.
The firefighters passed out toy yellow fire hats to kids who were watching, and some got to help man the hoses. This girl give it her full attention.
Ear to ear grins when her turn was done.
posted by NWO at
5:02 AM
|
9 comments
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Sunday, May 31, 2009
Door Quotations
“Ten men waiting for me at the door? Send one of them home, I'm tired.” ~ Mae West
My wife met me at the door the other night in a sexy negligee. Unfortunately, she was just coming home. ~Rodney Dangerfield
There was a girl knocking on my hotel room door all night! Finally, I let her out. ~Henny Youngman
My theory on housework is, if the item doesn't multiply, smell, catch fire, or block the refrigerator door, let it be. No one else cares. Why should you? ~Erma Bombeck
My wife met me at the door the other night in a sexy negligee. Unfortunately, she was just coming home. ~Rodney Dangerfield
There was a girl knocking on my hotel room door all night! Finally, I let her out. ~Henny Youngman
My theory on housework is, if the item doesn't multiply, smell, catch fire, or block the refrigerator door, let it be. No one else cares. Why should you? ~Erma Bombeck
posted by NWO at
3:32 PM
|
0 comments
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Friday, May 29, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
One-titted bandit!
SRF pushes the spin button with her gurlie anatomy.
posted by NWO at
6:20 AM
|
4 comments
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Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Four Day Weekend
What a great weekend! It started with me climbing through the brush to take the bird photos in the prior post. Unfortunately, I spent the next several hours removing ticks from my body, a result of my brief walk in the wilderness. *sigh*
Later, this mighty hunter delivering his prey to my home office. He manages to catch birds several times a month.
Then there was the parade. Here, Smokey Bear bonds with an onlooker.
Of course, girls adorned the various parade entries.
All forms of transportation were on display, including a couple of roller derby girls.
Powerful legs!
And of course, some were just enjoying the fine weather.
Others had hay-fever.
I'm a sucker for bagpipes (being a former player myself).
Officer down! (Somehow his bike tipped over with him on it. Paramedics rushed to the scene to give him a hard time.)
Love was in the air.
Princesses waved.
I loved the parade of old Chevrolets.
Many people watching from the sidewalk greeted this fellow by name, apparently a local hero. He was a participant in the Special Olympics.
Later, the action moved to a big soccer tournament. This goalie was catching his breath while his sister played.
The action was intense on multiple fields.
Soccer games means soccer moms.
And more soccer competitions.
And soccer siblings.
And more athletes.
And more soccer moms.
In another part of town, the train club was offering free rides.
And the little ones were enchanted.
For some, napping on the grass was a great option.
Then, the carnival and boat races!
Which brings out the teens. Girls.
And boys.
Seeking thrills (upside down
And going fast!
Or watching the sprint boats navigate the pylons on the river at 60 mph.
I love this shot: My motto is the name of the boat.
Later, slower means of transport were also in use.
On the final day, I got together with my Special Redheaded Friend where she presented me with birthday presents. Including letting me demonstrate my caulking skill!
And when I got home on Monday evening, this was waiting in the garden.
Later, this mighty hunter delivering his prey to my home office. He manages to catch birds several times a month.
Then there was the parade. Here, Smokey Bear bonds with an onlooker.
Of course, girls adorned the various parade entries.
All forms of transportation were on display, including a couple of roller derby girls.
Powerful legs!
And of course, some were just enjoying the fine weather.
Others had hay-fever.
I'm a sucker for bagpipes (being a former player myself).
Officer down! (Somehow his bike tipped over with him on it. Paramedics rushed to the scene to give him a hard time.)
Love was in the air.
Princesses waved.
I loved the parade of old Chevrolets.
Many people watching from the sidewalk greeted this fellow by name, apparently a local hero. He was a participant in the Special Olympics.
Later, the action moved to a big soccer tournament. This goalie was catching his breath while his sister played.
The action was intense on multiple fields.
Soccer games means soccer moms.
And more soccer competitions.
And soccer siblings.
And more athletes.
And more soccer moms.
In another part of town, the train club was offering free rides.
And the little ones were enchanted.
For some, napping on the grass was a great option.
Then, the carnival and boat races!
Which brings out the teens. Girls.
And boys.
Seeking thrills (upside down
And going fast!
Or watching the sprint boats navigate the pylons on the river at 60 mph.
I love this shot: My motto is the name of the boat.
Later, slower means of transport were also in use.
On the final day, I got together with my Special Redheaded Friend where she presented me with birthday presents. Including letting me demonstrate my caulking skill!
And when I got home on Monday evening, this was waiting in the garden.
posted by NWO at
5:35 AM
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