Construction

Today’s Daily Create is to take a photo of construction. I found one on our campus - and didn't even see the water bottle on the ledge until I opened the photo in Photoshop.

Find a Grid Pattern

The Daily Create is to find a grid pattern and take a photo of it. This grid is above my head every day, 5 days a week. The first image is as taken with just minor adjustments. I cropped it in camera as well.

The second image is one I added an artistic filter and adjusted colors. Short and sweet.

2 Daily Creates

I drew The Daily Create “draw an everyday object” on the assigned day, just didn't have a chance to post it. Is a cat “an everyday object?”

I’d say no, but to some people it’s an everyday cuddle, right? Sadly, not for me because of allergies.










Today’s Daily Create is “something that reminds you of your childhood.” This is my childhood friend’s Barbie that happened to be the same exact doll as mine. My mother gave mine to a neighbor’s grandkids. A few years ago I traded a drawing I did (that she’s wanted for year) for the doll... she even gave me the case and some clothes. Funny thing is, the dress was mine and must have ended up at her house when we were playing soooooooooooooooo many years ago. Twist N Turn.





And... yesterday I had this cup in a meeting and noticed the moisture... hopefully others in the room didn’t notice me staring at it. I brought the cup down to my office and held it up to my monitor to backlight it and use the color in the background.

Sunday Flutter

The Daily Challenge for today is a sound bite, so I chose to upload a couple of photos from Sunday. This butterfly visited our flowers and stayed awhile. I was able to snap off quite a few shots - but these are 2 of my favorites.

Rope and a "Wish"

The Daily Create is to take a photo featuring rope or knots. This piece of rope dangles from a handle to one of my garden tools. There is a little dandelion seed stuck to it.

I love when the large “wishies” come floating by in the fall - I think they are from milkweeds. This one is a tiny one, but I still prefer to think of it as a wish instead of a weed seed.

Revered in Suspended Animation

My father worked at Revere Copper and Brass in Rome, NY for more than 42 years. He sweltered in the summer, and froze in the winter – 13 days on, 1 day off, for as along as I can remember. Although it is many years later, I smiled when I pulled in to the parking lot where we would wait for him get out of work. Waiting and watching and we’d (mom included) all cheer him on as he got closer to the building where he had to “punch out.”

This image is the backside of the gigantic horse and rider that used to gallop through the night sky during my childhood. When we’d drive into Rome from the “country” as my city-dwelling aunts used to say, we’d all be in anticipation to see if the entire horse was lit up. Sometimes a section of the horse or rider would not be lit up and we’d make up a story about what was going on. The best one for a little kid was when my father would tell us that Paul had to get off and take a pee (bathroom humor and kids go so well together.)

According to articles I found from the Rome Daily Sentinel, the horse has not been lit up in about 10 years. You can read more about this sign at: Rome Sentinel. 

This is what the horse looked like when it was lit. This sign is in New Bedford, MA and was refurbished.

Below is what the sign in Rome looks like during the day. In this view it looks like the horse is making a jump. The detail in this photo can not be seen by the naked eye because the sign is very high in the sky and it’s difficult to find a good vantage point. (BTW, the sign is HUGE.)

Warhol Something - Hallmark Barbie

Instead of doing The Daily Create, I chose to complete a visual assignment.  This one is called “Warhol Something.” I wonder what Andy Warhol would have thought of Photoshop and what he would have done with it?

I was thinking about this image in my sleep. I thought I could make it better.
Variation of the above image with some hue shifting and changing the layers:

Green with Envy

The Daily Create for today was to take a photo of something I am envious of. I really don't believe in being envious - it doesn't get you anywhere. Therefore, I had to think about what might I be envious of... hmmmmm... yes, there is something! Fabulous, flat abs.

I searched online for a flat-abbed wonder, and grabbed my trusty camera. I adjusted the hue to what I call "envy green" in Photoshop.

Would I love to have abs that look like this? Yes. BUT, would I prefer to eat that piece of chocolate cake with chocolate frosting even more? Absolutely!

Life is about moderation and balance. I think I will do both - work out a couple of times a week, and eat cake (occasionally).

Remix Assignment - DS106

This assignment was to remix files to create an album cover. Try this one, it’s great fun! It gets the creative juices flowing.

The assignment said to use files that already were created by others in the class, but I couldn't find them. So I followed the directions for the initial project then added the remix of "adding a sidekick" - I chose William Shatner.

I used 2 photos from the random selection - one was the third photo over, and one was third photo down.

Original Assignment 
So here's something fun for everyone to do, should be quick and easy, but try to make it pretty.

First, go here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Random
The title of the article is now the name of your band.

Next, go here: http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php3
Go to the bottom of the page. The last four to five words of the last quote are the title of your first album

Lastly, go here: http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days
Select the 3rd image. It is the picture for your album cover.

Manipulate the picture, resize it, add some other color, whatever.  Do the same with the band name and album title, put them over top. However you wanna do it. Make it look cool.

Remix page on DS106 - Add a sidekick
http://remix.ds106.us/remixassignments/an-album-cover-remixed-add-a-sidekick/

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I will try to figure out how to post this on the DS106 page - maybe I will figure it out, maybe not :-)


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My friend Matt LOVED this project and created an album cover just for the fun of it.

Monochrome Reflection

The Daily Create: Monochrome photo. Headlight of a Toyota Tacoma. I love shiny things.

6 Minutes Past the Hour

The Daily Create: Take a photo at 6 minutes past the hour every hour for the day.

I remembered to take a few photos at 6 minutes past the hour. This one was on my way out of work going to my work out. Grabbed the camera and stood on some cracks in the parking lot. No big story with this one.

Out of Focus Conversation

The Daily Create for today is to “create a photo where some/all of your subject isn't in focus.”

The horse is one of my favorites from my collection - she sits on the shelf between her forest of decanters. The tiny mouse looks at her like he wants a ride. The monkey in the background sips on his soup deciding if it needs reheating.
~lynne

A Summer Camp MOOC... huh?

I just signed up for a MOOC Summer Camp! What the heck is this?

A Massive Open Online Course - on digital storytelling.

I'm going to Camp Magic MacGuffin - watch for some photos (maybe some stories if time permits).

First of my The Daily Create - Stone, Water and Clouds

24 Years

It’s our anniversary today. Who knew that we’d be married for 24 years? I think we both did. I’ve liked my husband for as long as I can remember. I’ve loved him for a long time too. We get along very well, and when we don’t, we have a system in place that allows time to cool off, retreat to our own corners, and usually agree that both sides had a valid point.

I see others that don’t get along with their spouses and I feel bad for them. I wish everyone could like his or her spouse like I like mine.

Maybe we get along with each other because we’ve both been very sick and realize how lucky we are to have gotten better from our illnesses. I remember last year around February I didn’t even know if he was going to make it. A couple of nights I was so worried that I didn’t even know if he would make it through ‘til morning.

I’d have to say that 2010 was a pretty difficult year… January started out poorly and the year got progressively worse. Finally in August, he started to feel better, and life started to get back to normal.

So when I see others not treat their significant other with love and respect, it makes me want to say, “Life is too short to be spending it mad at each other.”

I’m sure there will be times when we forget how hard 2010 was and we’ll have some sort of disagreement about some minor thing. And, I also know that we’ll go to our corners and pout, and rethink the small stuff and get over it.

I’m hoping for at LEAST 24 more years of time together (but let’s just not do the math.)

~Lynne

Keep this Coupon

I have a problem. I don’t know why, but I always find the part of the raffle ticket that says, “KEEP THIS COUPON” from long ago drawings. Do you think it’s because of the terse statement telling me I must KEEP THIS COUPON? I find various colored tickets in the obvious places – all kinds of pockets, desk drawers, change containers, wherever I can stash the ticket so that I will remember where it is when they call me with the news that I’ve won whateveritwasIboughttheticketfor.

Thing is, they already have my name and phone number, so why do I need to keep the ticket? Maybe to confirm that I actually won whatever the drawing was for. But, sadly, I’m never called as the lucky winner.

I guess I should keep all of the KEEP THIS COUPON tickets and make a collage out of all the tickets I’ve collected. Then they would be doing something useful.

Perhaps they should change the text on the tickets to “Retain this Coupon Until the Drawing if Over” then I would be able to throw them away and not break any rules.

Summer Memories... the Pool and Nancy Drew

We started hanging out with Cindy when her family got the in-ground pool. We weren’t friends with her before the pool, but after the pool came, we hung out at her house almost every day. I practiced and practiced until I could dive off the diving board and swim under water to touch the far end, make a turn and swim under water back to where I began.

We made up all kinds of games and practiced different dives. And when we weren’t swimming, we were in her screened-in garage that was set up like a living room (people did that in our neighborhood) and played all kinds of games.

One of our games involved playing “library” when we were forced to take a break from swimming. This game involved borrowing books from Cindy and reading them in her garage while we all hung out. We would have to check them out (but couldn’t take them home) with some type of system she devised.

I usually chose her Nancy Drew books. I was an avid reader and loved how Nancy was always finding some mystery to solve. But those who know these books, know that the mystery is usually solved in the last couple of pages.

Because of how each story ended, I would try not to let Cindy see where I was in the book. I didn’t want her to know that I was almost to the part where the case would be solved, because I knew (great detective that I was) that she would come over and grab the book from me and RIPPPPPP the last page out of the book. Each time I’d read one of her books, I’d attempt to keep my place in the book a secret from her so I could attempt to finish whatever mystery I was reading about.

I’d always go home disappointed that I didn’t get to finish the story because the last page was always torn out before I could finish the page. I think the only way I ever finished any Nancy Drew book was when I was older and reread my younger sister’s collection (in secret.)

I guess we put up with Cindy’s bad behavior because even though she was a bully, she was a bully with the only in-ground pool in the neighborhood.

The Bedroom Incident at the Slab Ranch

The house we bought is very similar to the one I grew up in. Even though I had great memories there, I did NOT want to live in a slab-ranch house. Our definition of slab-ranch is: a little ranch house that is on a concrete slab. No basement to keep your junk, washer and dryer, and you know, the stuff you drag home from every sale you go to.

Despite the fact that our house is small and there’s no storage, it doesn’t stop me from antiquing almost every weekend. That summer of the “bedroom incident” I was trying to figure out what I would be hunting for during my next trip. My husband and I decided I would look for a dresser. OK, I thought, I can do that. I can put a dresser on my list of things to look for. (I’ve found that you need a plan when you are a shop-a-holic or you’ll come home with WAY more stuff than you need or have room for.)

Saturday 6 a.m. - Mike kisses me goodbye and leaves for his weekend camping trip with his buddies somewhere in the Adirondacks. Soon after, his sister shows up and we leave for the antique show in Syracuse. Within minutes of arriving to the outdoor show I see IT. Yeah, a dresser…. did I mention, it’s with a 4-poster bed, wide dresser, tall dresser, 2 nightstands and a mirror? It’s beautifully refinished and FABULOUS! I begin to have a conversation with myself in my head, “I HAVE TO HAVE IT!” “Will it fit?” “I dunno.” “How much is it?” “I don’t care.” So I strike a deal with the owner and he tells me he will deliver it to my house in the next couple of days.

I walk away from that buy, high on life, high on my purchase. Kathryn looks at me and asks, “What’s my brother going to say?” I reply, “He told me to buy a dresser.”

Saturday 4 p.m. – I walk into the cool house from the sweltering heat of the antique show, and down the hall into my tiny ugly bedroom that I’ve HATED since I moved in. The ugly bedroom with the antique white paneling, the hideous carpet and decide… it all has to GO and GO before the furniture arrives.

I march down the short hall and out through the back porch to the garage to find some tools. I find what I’m looking for, a hammer, a crowbar, a utility knife and walk back into the bedroom “armed for bear.” I look around and figure out what has to be done first. The mattress – that’s gotta go. So I strip the bed and drag the mattress out into the hall, the box spring and the frame follow and I get to work.

Saturday 5 p.m. – I start cutting the carpet into one-foot strips and roll them up and put them out on the back porch. I then look at the paneling with “the eye” and a nod, and say, “You’re next.” I try the first piece. Crap, those idiots who lived here before me (the idiots that put paneling everywhere) glued it AND nailed it in a million places.

Saturday 7 p.m. – I remove the paneling piece by piece and some of the glue sticks on the wall and some of it pulls the wallboard off. Oops. I drag the huge 4x8 foot sections down the hall and out into the back porch, and wonder, “How am I going to tell Mike about this?” Finally, around midnight I am so tired I can’t see straight. I’ve been up since five that morning, out in the sun all day looking at antiques, followed by gutting the bedroom all evening.

Sunday 7 a.m. – Ugh, I can’t move. I have to get up off the couch and try to patch the holes in the wall before Mike gets home.

Sunday noon – There is no way I’m going to get this done. I need to come up with a story. Nah, the truth is the best. It’ll be ok.

Sunday 4 p.m. – Oh my God, he’s home. Oh my God. He’s pulling around to the back yard. Oh my God, he’s coming to the back door.

I greet him with a big hug and hello! “Welcome home!” He’s all scruffy from his trip and I notice that he spots the mess. “What’s this?” “What?” “All the junk in the back porch!” “What junk? Oh, the paneling?” I pulled it off the wall in our bedroom. “What?” “Yeah, you know how you told me to buy a dresser?” “Yes.” “I did.” “Yeah?” “It came with a few other pieces.” “Where is it?” “Oh, the dealer is going to deliver it sometime this week.” “What?” “Yep, next week.”

I follow him down to the bedroom and he looks around and looks at me and shakes his head. “Well” he pauses, “Did you measure it to see if it will fit?” “Uhhhhh, no.” “What if it doesn’t fit?” “Well, it all won’t fit, I can already tell.” He is flabbergasted. “You do know that I have to start that class on Monday and it’s all day, 5-days a week.” “Oops.” I start talking fast. “Well, we can sleep out in the living room until we get the walls done and the new carpet”…. “New carpet?” “Of course! We can’t put the new furniture in here on that crummy floor.”

He takes a big deep breath and walks out of the room, to the back porch, and out the door to get his camping gear – and starts to put it away. I have no idea what he is thinking, because he is quiet. He starts to ask a question, and stops. Sometimes mutters. Sometimes he’ll ask another question or make a statement. “You didn’t measure.” Nope. “The price was right. Remember, I checked out dressers at the furniture store? They were as much as this whole bedroom cost. I’m sure we can sell some of the pieces if we need to.”

Following week – Mike takes on the job. The bedroom walls get fixed and painted (he picks pink), the bed and dressers fit (including the mirror), a new carpet is installed and I feel like a queen when I’m in my, oops, our room.

The Painting

My sister-in-law and I take a week vacation in August to go to our local antique show in Bouckville, NY. We usually start on the Sunday before the big weekend and spend the week scouring the fields daily. Typically, (I don’t know why) I make a statement about what I want to find – I don’t know if it is to “put it out there” in the universe or what… but that year I stated “I want to buy a piece of art – cheap.”

And… almost the first booth I went to, I found a piece of art –an oil painting that was on the ground propped up against a plastic box. I picked it up and looked at it and thought it would look good in my living room. It didn’t have a frame AND it had a small hole in it. It was a beach scene in Hawaii (I guessed this based on the information on the back of the canvas), and I thought it was from around the 1930’s. I brought it over to the owner and asked, “How much?’ After he grabbed it out of my hands, he said… “Oh, I’ve got to get $20 bucks for this!” Since I already was holding a small beaded bag that he said I could “have” for $35, I asked if he’d “do” $50 for both. He said yes and I handed him a $50 bill. We put the painting in two small plastic bags (one on each end) and I tucked it under my arm and went on my merry way.

A little while later, while I was walking around with the painting still tucked under my arm, I heard a weird buzzing sound and then SMACK, a bug hit me in the center of my forehead! (I even had a baseball hat and glasses on.) I started to freak out because I thought it was a Japanese beetle, and flicked at it and it landed on my shorts… and when I when looked down and I saw that it was a ladybug. I scooted it off me and said, “Ladybug, bring me some good luck, help me find something good.”… I didn’t know I already had found it.

When the day was done, I opened the back door of my car, and tossed my $20 painting in the back seat and went home.

A few days later I started to wonder about the artist. I thought the painting looked like it had been painted by someone who know what he/she was doing. I “Googled” the signature and couldn’t believe my eyes. I had bought a painting by a famous American artist!

My husband and I did more research about the artist and decided that we couldn’t keep something so potentially valuable – and make sure it was properly cared for. So… I contacted a few auction houses in New York City and Brunk Auctions in North Carolina. All three agreed to sell my painting. I decided to use with Brunk Auctions, because they gave me personal attention and I knew up front what the costs would be. I sold the painting in January of 2006. We watched the auction through a live auctioneering site. It took only 28 seconds for it to be sold for a lot more than my $20 investment.

But that isn’t the best part of the story…

After the sale of the painting, I thought, “Now that I have this money, I want to make sure I’m around to enjoy it” and called my doctor’s for a regular checkup and a mammogram.

My mammogram was scheduled for February 8, 2006. After my mammogram, I sat in the waiting area for a long time. I don’t remember how many women came and went while I was still sitting there. Finally the technician came in and told me the doctor wanted a ultrasound because he saw a cyst. The ultrasound showed a mass right next to the cyst. A few weeks later, I had a biopsy and it was confirmed – I had breast cancer. This was very difficult news to hear and realize that even though I felt fine, there was this evil “thing” lurking in my body. I had a couple of surgeries, chemotherapy and radiation treatment. And, one and a half years later, I was finally “done.”

Using the word “done” isn’t a word that I use lightly. I don’t know if you are ever “done” with this type of thing. I try to keep a positive attitude, but you know it can come back and “smack you in the face” again. I am choosing to believe that I did all the necessary work (surgery, chemo, radiation) so that I am, in fact, “done” and that I won’t be sharing my body with cancer again.

So… that’s my painting story. I truly believe that if I hadn’t sold the painting in January, I might not have scheduled my mammogram until later in the year and my diagnosis might have been worse. I was lucky – and I think the ladybug did help me “find something good.”

Note: It’s now five years after this story began. I make sure I get my mammograms yearly and continue to shop for more artwork.

Kick it Hemmes!

I ran in to my high school coach today in the hall at the college where I work. I was engrossed in conversation with a colleague, and never expected my coach from thirty years ago to be there. As this spry woman was walking past us, I caught a glimpse of her and said, “Majka?” and she looked at me, because I’m sure she was thinking the same thing, “Why would Hemmes be in this hallway?”

We greeted each other with a big bear hug, and not enough time to catch up. She was headed one way, and I another. I told her where my office was, and asked her to stop in one day to visit or stop by for lunch.

It was this woman who used to yell from the other side of the track, “KICK IT HEMMES” when I was on the last 200 meters of the grueling 800 meter race. I heard her yelling these very words every race in my senior year.

For some reason people in sports typically called each other by their last names. Hers was Prumo, and in my head I still think of her as Prumo, even though I know she’s been married for at least 25 years now and her last name is Majka. She’s the one who brought our school out of the gymnastics era and into the Title IX era, where we had teams of girls playing soccer, volleyball, basketball, softball and track. She’s the one who mentored us to become what we are today.

We learned so many skills playing sports and being coached by Prumo. She was more about the hustle and less about the skill. Of course if you had both, that was great. Prumo was always looking for those who would work together and form the perfect team.

The “KICK IT HEMMES” helped me when I was young, just as it helped me when I really needed it. I don’t know if I can tell you a particular time when I heard her yelling in my head during my chemo treatments. I think whenever it got difficult, she was there yelling. Maybe it was on my fourth chemo treatment and I was sicker than a dog and vomiting like I have never vomited before. I heard her yelling “KICK IT HEMMES!” Or maybe it was during the 12 weekly chemos that I had to go through and just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore – I’d hear her voice.

I don’t know if she knows how much I appreciate all that she did for me when I was in school. She helped me apply to college, helped me get a soccer scholarship, and even gave me a job coaching JV soccer when I graduated from college.

But I really think she helped me make it past anything that was difficult in my life with three simple words yelled at the top of her lungs. “KICK IT HEMMES!”

So all I can respond is with a “THANK YOU PRUMO!”

The Backyard Balance Beam

Back in the early 1970s the Russian gymnasts were inspiring young girls across the world with their skills and abilities. Olga Korbut was changing the face of gymnastics with her fabulous moves on the uneven parallel bars and the balance beam. Olga had inspired (so it seemed) every girl in my school to want to become a gymnast, and I was no exception. I got involved in all the gymnastic events at school and could even do a back handspring (with some help). I was terrified of the vault, and couldn’t do it in practice, but when it came time to show off my skills during a showcase for parents, I managed to make it over the horse and without landing flat on my face.

In 1976, Olga Korbut again inspired us to do more difficult tricks on the balance beam. I must have hounded my father into making a beam for me. He sanded and varnished a piece of wood, and put it up in our back yard near by bedroom window. My beam was the standard four inches wide, and probably about three feet of the ground.

While Olga was doing back flips and crazy back bends on the beam, I was honing my skills with a full turn, a shoulder roll, and some other fabulous moves that certainly would help get me into the Olympics one day.

During practice at school, I learned how to do cartwheels on the beam and a dismount that was a no-handed round off. This move was quite simple for me, and I wanted to show it off to my friends and cousins one day from my own backyard balance beam.

I kicked off my sneakers and hopped up on the beam while explaining what I was going to do. I gracefully moved to the end of the beam and prepared for the most fabulous dismount that they would ever see in person (and not on TV). I moved my arms around, and my feet followed.

All of a sudden, the momentum stopped and I was in the air suspended parallel to the ground for what seemed to be an eternity. I looked around at the faces while I was in the air looking something like Wylie Coyote when he runs off the cliff when chasing the Road Runner.

They all had their mouths open and I was splayed out in mid-air. And then all of a sudden, gravity took over and SPLAT. I landed flat on the lawn. Arms extended, legs straight out, and you could hear the WOOOSH of air come out of my lungs. The audience all held their breath and looked down on me lying on the ground. I sucked in a big breath and they all sighed. When I finally could breathe, we all started to laugh.

The only thing I can say about that incident, was thank God my mother didn’t see my fabulous dismount, because she would have had my father sawing the legs off that balance beam faster than you could hum the first few bars of the USSR’s national anthem.