Every two weeks I pull myself away from my desk to visit the nail salon.
Tag Archives: postaday
Phoneography Challenge: My Neighborhood
This week’s challenge is to photograph our neighborhood. As you can see, there isn’t much neighborhood. Taken with my iPhone and processed with Snapseed.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Kiss
This week’s photo challenge. There are all kinds of kisses . . .
There are the kisses of young love . . .
There are the kisses of a love that has stood the test of time . . .
Kitty kisses are tentative and filled with whisker tickles . . .
Dog-to-dog kisses are often misconstrued by stupid humans . . .
Doggie to human kisses can be a bit messy . . .
Weekly Photo Challenge: Home
This week’s photo challenge is Home.
Home is, and will always be, the island of Oahu in Hawaii.
These two photos were taken on our 2004 trip back home. There is nothing fancy about these shots, and they were taken with a old point and shoot digital on completely auto settings. When we go back (and we will), I’ll do better.
We spent much of our time there visiting old haunts as we had not set foot in Hawaii since 1977.
This is half of Booth Park in Pauoa Valley. Pauoa is a little valley nestled between Punchbowl and the Pali Lookout. I climbed those trees as a child and it was gratifying to see, nearly fifty years after the fact, that this little town still looked pretty much as it did when I was skinning my knees there.
This is the He’eia Kea Pier. It juts into Kaneohe Bay in the little town of Kahaluu, where we moved when I was in the fourth grade. The windward side of Oahu was home to me until I entered my sophomore year in college and I moved to Honolulu just off the University of Hawaii campus.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Beyond (Take 2)
Moonrise: Just a sliver, far beyond.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Beyond
Weekly Photo Challenge: Illumination
What could be more illuminating than a science lecture featuring Bill Nye, the Science Guy?
Weekly Photo Challenge: Mine (and Day 276)
This week’s photo challenge is “Mine.” There isn’t much I consider mine. Not really.
I have possessions, but all of them can be swept away at any time.
The bank still owns this.
There are fleeting moments I wish were “mine.”
We have creatures who share our lives . . . but are they mine?
The way she orders me around, there is no way she’s “mine.”
This one lets me share “her” bed.
She turned me into a middle-aged woman with a little dog, but Miss “You have to wrestle me to the ground to clip my nails” is not mine.
My loyal boy is not “mine” either.
Fruit of my womb, and I’ll love her until the end of time, but definitely not “mine.”
Love of my Life. We said, “I do,” but we don’t own each other. We share our lives.
There is just one thing that is really and truly mine.
Me.























