6 posts tagged “may cottage”
Just a quickie testing the water-proofity of my video camera. GLUB...GLUB...GLUB...
These are my babies, Colonel and Forrest. They've been with me through thick and thin, feast and famine, rain and shine. They've been my constant companions through joy and heartbreak. They've shared my travels from the piney woods of East Texas to the big city of Dallas, from the sunny burbs of Plano to small town Brownwood and finally to May Cottage. Sweet Victoria Rose loves them as much as I do. Today is their birthday. They are twelve years old today. Happy Birthday! I love you both. (And that's no foolin'!)
I've been walking a couple of miles a day for my health and fitness. As a way to stay motivated I've been carrying my camera along. The original idea was to take a single snapshot on each excursion to document life in a small rural Texas town one day and one photo at a time. Trouble is, once I got home I couldn't narrow it down to just one picture, so I've been posting several at a time.
I'm no Ansel Adams, to be sure. But some of them have turned out pretty well. If nothing else, it is a pretty good representation of life at May Cottage. If you haven't visited Tie-Dyed Brain Rays 1.0 I invite you to do so. Scroll down through the entries, look at the pictures and share my journey. Feel free to comment on the photos if you like. I would welcome a little feedback.
I'm no Ansel Adams, to be sure. But some of them have turned out pretty well. If nothing else, it is a pretty good representation of life at May Cottage. If you haven't visited Tie-Dyed Brain Rays 1.0 I invite you to do so. Scroll down through the entries, look at the pictures and share my journey. Feel free to comment on the photos if you like. I would welcome a little feedback.
Last night May Cottage caught the tail end of a nasty swiftly moving storm. The weather alert last night said 50mph straight-line winds, heavy rain, hail, lighting and flash flooding. For 15 minutes it was downright biblical. Pea and marble sized hail came down in sheets and avalanched off our roof like some kind of ice machine gone mad. Within minutes the rain filled our front fish pond to overflowing. The thunder and lightning made A Night On Bald Mountain look like a spring shower. As for the wind, it sounded more like the freight-train howl of a tornado passing close by than straight-line winds. (As someone who has grown up in Tornado Alley I know that sound well.) Luckily we escaped any significant damage.
When I opened the front door to take a peek, Mad-eye Moody, one of our outdoor feline denizens was sitting on the front porch in the downpour, drenched to the skin and peppered with hailstones. The rest of the cat-critters found suitable shelter under a covered back porch. Moody doesn't have sense to get in out of the rain.
Not his fault, really. When he was a tiny kitten our big Borzoi drug him around the yard for no telling how long before we found him. He was covered in dog slobber, but appeared otherwise unhurt physically. The poor thing hasn't been right in the head since. (A blind, milky eye from some later encounter with Heaven knows what earned him the Mad-eye Moody moniker.)
We brought him in, toweled him off, fed him a snack and let him spend the night indoors. He wants desperately to be an inside kitty, but he's not civilized and there are other, more well behaved cats on the waiting list ahead of him. And even though he insists on trying to rip patches of whiskers out of my beard every time he gets in my lap, I can't help but love him. I think he is trying to be affectionate in his own crazy way. I have no doubt that he'll be king of the Island of Misfit Toys someday.
When I opened the front door to take a peek, Mad-eye Moody, one of our outdoor feline denizens was sitting on the front porch in the downpour, drenched to the skin and peppered with hailstones. The rest of the cat-critters found suitable shelter under a covered back porch. Moody doesn't have sense to get in out of the rain.
Not his fault, really. When he was a tiny kitten our big Borzoi drug him around the yard for no telling how long before we found him. He was covered in dog slobber, but appeared otherwise unhurt physically. The poor thing hasn't been right in the head since. (A blind, milky eye from some later encounter with Heaven knows what earned him the Mad-eye Moody moniker.)
We brought him in, toweled him off, fed him a snack and let him spend the night indoors. He wants desperately to be an inside kitty, but he's not civilized and there are other, more well behaved cats on the waiting list ahead of him. And even though he insists on trying to rip patches of whiskers out of my beard every time he gets in my lap, I can't help but love him. I think he is trying to be affectionate in his own crazy way. I have no doubt that he'll be king of the Island of Misfit Toys someday.
We put up Halloween decorations. Can you tell?
How spooky is that?
Snow comes to May Cottage. The past week has brought winter weather and a rare snowfall to our little part of Central Texas. While the rest of the world may turn a cold and cynical eye upon every flake, the novelty is yet to wear thin for us. I have a thirteen year old niece who has only seen two snowfalls in her life. And though driving on icy roads is a skill few in these parts have mastered, there is something magical about a snowman sprouting from every yard in front of every house, even those where no children live.
