pic of the day - cookoo

This cookoo clock hung in my grandparents home when my dad was a kid. As a child, it was one of my most favorite things about going to visit their house. It hung in the hallway just outside my bedroom, and it was always my goal to try to stay awake until midnight so I could see it cookoo 12 times! Watching my grandpa reset the clock by pulling the weights and chains was fascinating! And the weights shaped like pinecones...WOW! The WOW! factor was only heightened when I was threatened within an inch of my life not to play with them...they made such a great forest for my Barbie dolls. It was a huge temptation for a little kid!!!!! I loved that cookoo clock!

Tonight, after years of wear and tear and a long visit with our clockmaker friend, the cookoo clock has been restored and was hung for the first time in my parent's home. Silly though it may sound, it was as if someone lost had come home. Hearing that cookoo brought back so many memories of that house, the summers spent there, my bedroom, riding my bike on their street, watching soap operas with my grandma, playing kickball and hide-n-seek with my cousin and the neighbood kids who became our friends, trying to teach my him to ride his bike without training wheels because we got to go to Dairy Queeen if he did, and waiting for my grandpa to get home from work...that was the highlight of the day.

My grandpa's been gone a little over a year now. I miss him every single day. Like the cookoo clock, he was so silly and funny. He had a way of making you want to stay up to midnight so you could soak up as much of him as you could. He was steady though and as dependable as the strike of a clock. You always knew where you stood with him and for me, he was my forest...strong, wise,and protecting. He was a fixture in our family. Some may think I need to get a life, but hearing that cookoo will be a highlight of my day.

pic of the day - peachly clean

Summer is not my favorite season. In fact, if I had to rank the four, it might just find its way to the bottom. Without sounding like a diva, I really do not like to be hot, mosquitoes are my arch enemy, my grass always dies, the seats in my car burn my legs...I could go on and on. But, me being me, I always try to find the good in everything so there are a slight few simple pleasure wonders that I do enjoy about summer. Homemade ice cream tops the list, followed in no order of importance by sunflowers, home grown tomatoes, that first meal of the gardening season when everything but the meat came from the garden, summer hours at work, Keenan's big belly & popsickle picture (that's for you Melissa - yes it must become a yearly tradition!), fresh cantaloupe, and peaches. Does anyone else a common thread here? I think I like to eat. I had no idea! This blogging adventure has been quite a revealing and wonderful experience. I digress.

Peaches! I absolutely positively love fresh peaches! I love them just sliced up in a bowl with a little sugar...add a little cream drizzled on top and they're even better...they are so darn good in "Momma's Magic Peach Cobbler" (my grandma's famous recipe)...have you tried grilling them? Oh how I love peaches! When I lived near Cincinnati, thanks to my dear friend Rusty, I learned of the pure simple joy of a Greater's Peach Milkshake (cue the glowing angel music-AAAAAHHHHHHHHH). The heavenly sinful combination of homemade ice cream and peaches is pure joy and only comes around one time a year - Summer!

Sadly, I'm nowhere near a Greater's, but I do not let that stop me from enjoying this brief pleasure. In my attempt to be healthy and watching calories and fat and all that stuff, I must tell you that frozen vanilla yogurt does not quite do that little fuzzy ball of goodness complete justice. At the end of a long hot day though, it really doesn't matter. It still quenches the craving and all is well. As you can see, I left my glass practically peachly clean!

In life, there are a lot of things that do not top our list of favorite things to do and situations are not always optimum. I've learned though that life is just too darn short to not find the things that make us grin a little, maybe even giggle, and enjoy the heck out of them. Even if we have to use fat free frozen yogurt, add a dash of vanilla, make the most of it and enjoy the heck out of the peaches we're given!! They may come around only once.

pic of the day - storm brewing

As I drove home this evening, I could see that the clouds were incredibly active and very interesting. I knew that if the sun held out and didn't get swallowed up by all that cotton candy in the sky that it might just make for a tremendous sunset. So, I waited. I fed Bertie, cleaned up the kitchen, read a chapter in a book, and I waited and watched. Timing is everything in the game of photographing a pretty sunset. By about 7:20, I could see that it was going to be close, but I might just get lucky. So, I grabbed my camera, loaded Bertie up in the back of the car, and away we went.

Allow me to interject a moment and share that 1) this picture tracking activity has become a favorite of ours. She just rides along in the back of the car happy as 10 bedbugs. When we arrive a location to shoot, I roll the window down for her and she just watches every move I make; 2) riding in the car is to Bertie's puppy hyperactivity what it can be for a crying baby. It totally calms her down and makes for a much nicer evening. Otherwise she's nuttier than 10 fruitcakes! So, I see more sunset shots in the future!

Now,there's timing and there's location. I've made my way all around the West side of Daviess County over the course of this summer, hunting for that perfect spot for sunsets. The perfect spot being a nice wide view unobstructed by house trailers, power lines, vehicles, ugly trees, etc. Tonight, I might have found it. I turned down roads I've never been on, all the while keeping my eye on the looming clouds and that gorgeous sun sinking down the skyline. I must say, I started to worry just a smidgy when I saw the sign that said "End of State Road Maintenance", but never fear, one turn later, I found it.

As I got ouf of the car and set up my tripod, my senses were overcome. The view speaks for itself. The sight of a wall of rain charging toward the sun...amazing. The smell of impending rain is like no other. The wind was picking up and blowing Bertie's ears as she hung her head out the window watching. Besides the breeze, you could just feel the storm brewing. When I closed my eyes, which I didn't do for long because that tends to impede photography, the sound of the churning clouds and drops of rain on the soybean leaves were like a symphony. I can only wonder what it might taste like if indeed a storm had a flavor.

pic(s) of the day - reflections

I was given an hour of time that I didn't expect tonight. My friend and I were to have dinner prior to going to photography club workshop. Unfortunately she was not able to meet me at the last minute and I found myself downtown with nothing to do for an hour...nothing to do that is if I hadn't given myself the challenge to take a picture a day and if I didn't have my camera handy. BUT, fear not, I did challenge myself and I did have my camera handy. As I was sitting in the waiting area of the restaurant, I had noticed that I could see the street outside through the reflection in the coat tree mirror. I continued to notice that I could see a view of the restaurant in the courthouse across the street...And the "Reflections" theme began. I dumped the pricey restaurant, grabbed some Dairy Queen and began my quest for things I could see when looking at other things.

I started thinking about how often in life we have that same experience in the not so literal sense. When I look at my cousin's little boy, for instance, I see my dad. I see his expressions, his mannerisms, his curiosity. He is a physical reflection of his kin. When people look at me, they see my mom. We walk alike, talk alike, look alike...I am a reflection of her. What about the non-physical traits? Do I reflect my heritage? Do I reflect all that my raised me to be? Do I reflect my faith? Are my hopes and dreams a reflection of the experiences I've encountered? Do I reflect joy in all situations or do I reflect the worries and frustrations that sometimes weigh on my heart? Do I reflect love to the unloveley? What do people see when they look at me? Then it occured to me that some people rush by life so quickly or just simply do no see beyond the surface layer of what they encounter. How often do we get so caught up in something that we miss the reflection altogether? Sometimes the greatest gift is right there, we just don't see it.

pic of the day - moonrise

"Wow!" was really all I could say as I stood and watched the moon rise up over the cornfields. It was one of those moments when it felt as if everything was just as it was supposed to be. For a brief period, as that big golden ball rose up from the tassels over the apple tree, lighting the sky to a soft glow, all was right. All was still. I didn't hear the crickets chirping, the birds tweeting, the neighborhood dog barking...no traffic. The only sound was the stir of the cornstalks dancing in the breeze. "Wow!"

pic of the day - smurf village

My favorite cartoon as a child was the "Smurfs". I loved those little blue critters! As an only child, my imagination was quite active. Ok, who am I kidding, I still have an active imagination. The thought though of some kind of community of little blue people existing underneath all those mushrooms in the woods behind my house was just about more than I could stand. I was constantly on the lookout and was convinced my dog would someday sniff them out and then I could help take care of them. I also loved "The Littles"...is anyone else seeing a strange pattern here? Hmmm....oh well!

Imagine my thrill when I looked out my living room this morning to see that two little mushrooms had established themselves in my front yard overnight. Maybe just maybe they had their vacancy sign lit and I would finally have my own little smurf village. A girl can dream at any age! In reality, it wasn't so exciting that it couldn't wait for a couple cups of coffee, but once I was moving fluidly, out I went with my camera. I'm sure the neighbors were having a chuckle at me out in my front yard, on my knees with my butt in the air excited by fungus. "Martha, that girl needs to get out more. I think that dog has driven her mad. She's taking pictures of toadstools!"

I began to wonder though, "what is the purpose of a mushroom?". Instantly, the song Turn Turn Turn popped in my head and while I could recall living, dying, dancing, laughing, crying, I could not recall a lyric that mentions toadstools. In all seriousness, about the only productive thing I could come up with was that mushrooms are probably wonderful little treats for all the squirrels and bunnies in my yard. "Happy eating tonight kids...We're going to the mushroom buffet!"

Then, it occurred to me that maybe just maybe a fringe benefit purpose of these two little mushrooms was the sheer glee they brought to me, the memories of my childhood that came flooding through me, the chuckle that my excitement brought to Harvey and Martha (those names are made up to protect the innocent), and their ultimate stardom as the topic of this entry meant for yourreading pleasure. Some may think it self centered or brazen to think that the purpose of everyday things in everyday life around them might just be designed for them. I think if we all start to look at the everyday things in everyday life like toadstools as little gifts and blessings sent just for our viewing pleasure, we might have happier days with happier attitudes.

pic of the day - my pootie plant

My great grandmother on my dad's side of the family was Flura Elizabeth Stein Naylor. Every that knew and loved her called her Pootie. No one seems to be able to tell me just how she aquired that nickname, but let me be clear that I am quite certain that it had nothing to do being gaseous, contrary to what many first guess. Pootie died when I was still in diapers and while that seems too young to have any memories of her, I have a picture that is clear as day etched in my mind. I've never seen this image captured in a photograph, so I do not believe that's the root of the memory. I truly believe that I remember her, if only for a small moment of time. She was petite with salt and peppered hair, lighter on the salt than the pepper. She wore those black horn rimmed glasses and had on a white house dress with violet colored flowers that tied at the waist. She is standing in her kitchen greeting us with a smile. I can describe the room to a T says my family. It is my one Pootie memory.

The remainder of the love that I hold for her is filled in by all the wonderful stories that the rest of my family cherish about her and tell over and over again. We also have a journal that she kept while my grandpa was away fighting in WWII. What loving insights that bit of history provides. She and my Grandpa Ott (short for Otto Cameron) lived out in the country. They worked hard and lived off their land. She was a strong woman. She was also very soft, tender, and always full of love. She was quietly funny. She was Pootie.

Pootie loved her garden and flowers and kept a number of houseplants. At some point, I think after she died, my parents adopted one of her plants. For as far back as I can remember, we always had this plant. It was quite large and a bit unruly and it lived in this funky white pot that sat in an equally funky black stand. It was just always there. When my parents moved 5 years ago, the Pootie Plant, as it's now known, did not adjust well. Long story short, over the course of 5 years, despite all of my mom's best efforts at finding it the right window, better dirt, a new pot, food, root stimulant, it withered from its height of unruliness to just one sad leaf with one pitiful root.

As a last ditch effort, knowing the bountiful shamrock shrub my kitchen window could produce, I brought what was left of the Pootie Plant home to my house. Several weeks in a glass of water in the window sill later, a tiny little root started to sprout. Then another. And another. Before long, it seemed ready for dirt. It's been quite a little journey, but it seems the Pootie Plant is on the mend. Each day, it's a tad bigger and a tad stronger. Every other week or two a new leaf unfurls. This is my Pootie Plant.

My family says I'm alot like Pootie, both in stature and in spirit. That gives me tremendous honor. I think I'm alot like my Pootie Plant. Each day I am better than the day before. Each ray of sunshine makes me that much happier. New experiences unfurl before me. I'm growing constantly. Do I get dried out? Yes, but the pure clean waters of my faith keep me alive and that too gives me tremendous honor.

pic(s) of the day - Innocent? I think not!

Meet Bertie, my 10 month old English Springer Spaniel. Before I can give you the full impact Bertie has made on my world, you must understand my canine history. In the days b.b.(before Bertie) there was Pax, my sweet little innocent old man of a pug that lived to eat and sleep. While he was extremely cute and had a tongue the size of a great dane, he really didn't do anything. He slept quietly (except for the snoring) beside my bed, he ran right out the back door into the non-fenced backyard every morning and did his business coming right back to the door like a good boy becasue that was the only thing standing between him and his breakfast. He never barked (he boof boofed on occasion), never howled, never dreamed of running away, he didn't know what rabbits were (let alone eat their poo), didn't care about flowers, didn't seem to hear thunder...you get my point. I always thought him to be more of a living stuffed animal rather than a dog.

Sadly, my time with Pax came to an end back in the Fall. In an attempt to exert some wisdom and with hole in my heart I knew nothing could replace, I chose not to rush right out and find a new doggy. I lasted about 2 weeks before I just could not stand being in a house with nothing else breathing the same air I breathe. It was so quiet. And so began the search.

I'll skip all the boring details and just tell you that I will never forget going to meet this little female English Springer Spaniel puppy that I had found...the garage door on the house where she lived opening up, and these three adorable, pudgy, brown and white, mopped eared, curly, bundles of energy come tumbling out. They were the cutest things I had ever seen. She came right to me and I fell head over heels in love with her. I think I already knew that I loved her and would take her home since I had brought a pink fluffy blanket to take her home in :)

Bertie is short for Liberty Jane. She was born on 9/10 which is close enough to 9/11 and I wanted to call her Libby so I thought Liberty was appropriate but then her momma's name was Libby and yes even though I will never see that dog or that family ever again and yes I know they are just dogs, I had to name her something different so I went with the other end of Liberty...plus it was Thanksgiving weekend so with a turkey bird and all and she's a bird dog...it just fit. Oh how it fit. She is such a quirky, funny, nutty dog...totally a Bertie!

She's everything Pax was not. In many ways, like going for walks & runs, playing out in the yard, keeping me on my toes, that is a good thing. In many ways, like eating rabbit poo (yes, eating it),chomping off or trampling all my flowers, howling, and barking at thunder, practically shoving me out of my own bed every night,not so much. But all in all, I cannot imagine life without her now. Pax and I experienced a lot together. Standing here at this place in life, thinking about what the next 10-15 years might bring,I think a little quirkiness, laughter, and activity are a good mix.

Don't let her innocent eyes fool you in this picture...I stocked the "Land of Misfit Toys" by sewing up all the stuffed annimals she has attempted to obliterate. The poor horse she is snuggling with was really trying to hold onto what's left of his eyeballs!

I think it's all reflective of the fact that we are blessed with what we need when we need it. We are never given more than we can handle at any point, and even though there are times when it feels like something is trying to obliterate our eyeballs and rip out all our stuffing, we have someone who loves misfit toys with all his power and being and he refills us, sews us up, gives us fresh eyes, reattaches our arms and makes us whole again.

pic of the day - sungazing

I have this huge Shamrock plant on my kitchen window sill...it has gotten so big that it's almost like a mini shrub. I love it because it's always practically straining to turn itself to the window. I like to turn it around so the leaves are facing out just to see how long it will take for them to turn back around to the sun. You can practically watch it happen. I can certainly relate, both physically and spiritually. I am fascinated at the connectedness I feel.

Cliff Jumping

When I was in college, one of the "cool" things to do was to go cliff jumping at the local abandoned rock quarry. While the setting was quite serene and beautiful, there was not enough money in the world that could be paid to me that would provide the inspiration to join the crowd in taking what seemed to me to be a 1000 foot leap into the lovely teal waters below. Extreme I know, I but that's how it appeared to me. Now, keep in mind, nearly every friend I had made this leap and they all lived to tell about it. They did not get attacked by the nests of water moccasins that I was sure were lurking below that pretty water. They did not hit the bottom of the quarry and find themselves paralyzed for life. They did not get caught in a mass of debris or "rock-quarry" weed ( as opposed to sea-weed) that entangled them to the point of drowning. Every single friend that made that leap popped right up out of that jewel toned water with eyes wide and smiles beaming. Not everyone chose to do it a second time, but they were glad to say they had done it once nonetheless...Another thing to scratch off the bucket list.



Now what is odd to me is that I would like to think my normal approach to life is one that is open to trying most anything once. Per the title of this new blog, my motto most of the time is "ok, let's try it...just for grins and giggles". Rock quarry jumping, however, simply did not carry that appeal.



I tell you all this because I am a bit embarrassed to say that this day and age of technology, social networking and information sharing is about as scary to me as jumping off a cliff into unknown waters, no matter how pretty they are. There are no water moccasins, but there are stalkers and identity theives. There is no chance of paralysis, but am I opening myself up to a locked up computer? I know there's no "rock-quarry" weed, but I do not want to become absorbed in this land of technology where I find myself drowning in the waters of the world wide web. But here I am, I am proud to say, no longer at the edge of the cliff, but mid-air in my free fall into a new world. Again, I know it sounds dramatic. It also makes me sound really old. With cliff jumping, I knew I could live the rest of my life grinning and giggling even if I chose not to make that jump. It was something I was deathly afraid of and I knew I was not necessarily going to be a better person for having done it. More experienced, maybe, but definitely not better.



Now I find myself 36 years old, single, living with an adorable dog in a lovely house, working in a job I enjoy with people I like very much, and my entire immediate family within 4 miles of me. Yet many of my friends that I hold near and dear in my heart are miles and miles away. I will confess that I have dipped my toes into the quarry waters and have become a facebook stalker. I read their posts and look at their pictures. I have come to love their children from afar. I smile at the wonderful people they have become. I enjoy knowing about their lives. All the while, I stand up on that cliff just watching. I have realized that something is missing. Unlike the rock quarry, I see now that by taking that leap into the great world of technology, I will be better. Letting the people I love have a glimpse into my life now and again is far more than scratching an item off a bucket list. It will make me better and happy because no longer will I be on the sidelines watching. I will be connected.



So, all that said, welcome to "grins n giggles galore" (the name "grins n giggles" was already taken so in true Tracy form, I added a spice of galore). I've just last night initiated a challenge to myself to take at least a picture a day. I was always taught that practice makes perfect and I know if I truly want to be a better photographer (I dabble at best now) that I must practice. So a picture a day it will be, for a while at least, and I thought this might be the perfect forum in which to kill two birds with one stone. Yes, I'm full of those old adages today. Again, enjoy...I look forward to the splash that comes from this big leap!