Expedition Oklahoma

Galveston Getaway Part One

So what better thing to do after a tiring weekend finishing graduate school and a crazy three days of graduation ceremonies than to head to the beach for a relaxing weekend.  Except weekend getaways are usually anything but "relaxing."  They are expensive and tiring, but well worth it.  Just my husband and I on this weekend trip.  We almost went to Missouri but the allure of the coastal waters was too much. 

I struggle to take my children to the beach because my neurotic motherly instincts.  So, this was pretty much my idea of a perfect vacation.  The following photos were all taken Friday May 17th. 

As soon as we checked into our hotel we headed out for a walk on the beach.  It was kind of cloudy and cool outside.  

He's busy walking in the waves, but not for long.  

I took a turn walking in the waves and then it was time to head back to the room and get ready for an afternoon on the beach. 

After the gulls came to visit us on the balcony we headed back to the beach.  I grew up on the northern plains, our vacations were always trips to visit Grandma in Oklahoma.  We didn't go to places with the ocean or beaches.  The first time I ever got to see the ocean was in 2004 on a trip to Disneyland.  So, I've had less than 10 years of visiting the coast in my life.  

That's all for now.  I love the coast, whether it is Galveston, Padre or Biloxi. I would love to live closer to the ocean, not sure how I feel about hurricanes though.  But there is no better treat than being able to absorb into your senses the sound, smell and feel of the ocean and the beach.  The waves washing over your body pulling you out and pushing you back into the shore, the smell of the aquatic life, the gritty sand and the taste of the salt in the water. It is a sensory experience that far supercedes almost any other in this life, there is a reason people have been, for centuries compelled to go to sea.  

 

 

 

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Just a quick shot of this lovely fish on Galveston beach this morning.  What a nice weekend I've had, more images to follow... soon.  

Graduating From The University of Oklahoma

I graduated this weekend with a Masters  of Arts in Native American Studies from the University of Oklahoma.  A long desired goal finally accomplished.  Today is Mother's Day and I'm feeling relieved. 

Graduation week consisted of depositing the final draft of my thesis in the University Library and a banquet.  The next day was the American Indian Graduation ceremony and commencement followed by convocation of the college of Arts and Sciences on Saturday morning. 

We were presented with these beautiful etched glass awards.   

Such a nice banquet to see all of these faces that I've had classes with the last two years and to see people graduating with the same degree.  People who started in Fall of 2011 with me, graduating.  

Honoring Dr. Watkins who is leaving for a new adventure this year.  

Dr. Bread and his economic development and tribal government classes have been my favorite classes in this program.  Plus, we all love Dr. Bread.  

My friend and I.  Let me tell you about an amazing woman, she has completed a dual degree in our program and law school.  She has a baby and five children under twelve in her household. She also fosters children.  

 

Kiowa Black Legging Society at Commencement.  Hau!  

Commencement night, only the PhD's were recognized individually while the Masters and Bachelors degree candidates sat and watched.  We did walk across the field.  

Our speaker Fareed Zakaria.  He gave a great speech.  

Commencement ended with fireworks. 

What a beautiful end to a great two years at the University of Oklahoma.  

After the commencement we were headed home to sleep and get up early to return to campus for the convocation.  

Convocation.  

The Lloyd Noble center was packed, and hot, and miserable.  

As we walked in our major was announced on the big speakers.  

walking into the arena. 

My good friends... 

Finally walking to the stage to get our diploma covers. 

More of our awesome, amazing Native graduates!  

With my older sister and brother after the ceremony.  It was definitely time to go home and take a nap.   Last week was quite a week after the stress of finishing the school work and then graduation. 

 

 

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So As I Sit Here

Feeling as old as the paint slowly fading away on this house.  A process of growing older, vibrant and then accepting our fate and slowly fading away into memories.  Fading into nothing, the beloved places turn into forgotten rusty barns and houses falling in.  Our stories become their history. 

Someday we will become their ancient mystery, a forgotten legend an ancestor to worship or bones to study. 

We will be the door without a key, no one will be able to unlock our mysteries. Our descendants will study us and won't know who we are or who we were, they may have a picture.  They will make conjectures about us and take the words of our politicians, our movies and our writers and all these fragments from our world and try to figure out who they are because of our histories.  They will be wrong, they won't know anything about who we were because we are not like our writers, our historians or our politicians.  We each have our own story that we tell, but we don't tell many- because only a few earn the right to hear our voice.  

Just as we don't know the secrets and stories of our parents. We don't know all they have to tell us, they don't tell us.  Like a slow running stream, we slowly glean these stories of the past of our Grandparents that we don't have, of their childhood and their experiences as we have our own experiences.  

Spending the afternoon in an abandoned house won't reveal the secrets of the owners.  A day in an abandoned house won't tell us anything but the material culture of the time period.  The wallpaper used, the details, the sinks. It doesn't tell us that much.  

What brings us meaning to life? Why do some of us desperately pursue goals and desire accolades, attention and accomplishments and others are satisfied to live a so-called simple life as workers. Why do some people want to be more than others?  Why be a writer, a photographer, an artist, why bother. What drives me.  What drives you?  Why create and share, is it for me or is it for all the people who find it online.  Is giving of myself why I write this blog or is it selfish so I know a part of me is out there being found by others.  This blog represents a fragment of who I am.  

The photography is interesting, because up until a few years ago I believed I was a talentless person. I was talentless. I was smart, but I rejected the humanizing aspect of writing within literature. I separated fiction from history and art was only for arts sake.  Now, I see how important it is, how the human voice brings reason to history and there is truth within everyones story.  I found art through photography and my discontent with teaching.  I found something I enjoy doing as a hobby in solitude. 

In the last year I found something else that I can do.  I enjoy refinishing cabinetry. I love the sense of "I can do that."  I love to sand down a piece of wood and restore and bring it back to life.  I like being able to do things that I didn't know I could do.   Isn't that what life is about? Learning and growing, and as long as we are learning and growing will we ever fade away?  If we continue to grow and learn new things doesn't that keep us young?  Eventually we will just be a memory but that doesn't matter as long as we live for our now, our present.  Thinking of the future can drive us crazy in its uncertainty but living for now will always keep us busy.  Living in the past is just as dangerous because we idealize it and perfect it in our mind. 

What matters anyways?  What makes something or someone worth mattering to you? What makes someone elses thoughts and ideas imprint into your soul? What do you do that makes you worth remembering?  So I still sit here. Knowing none of the answers but finding more questions.  Does nothing matter or does everything matter and why does it matter? It doesn't because we are nothing more than stardust in an infinite universe. 

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The Monday Morning My Electrical Box Got Fried (Updated)

So, this is more of a blog type post than a photography one.  But, it is definitely a Monday in my house.  I actually got up early enough to cook breakfast and felt pretty good and then about 7:45 the power started doing really weird things.  My lights started browning out in the kitchen and a few of the other rooms (not all).  I then waited for them to come back on (we had a community wide power outage a couple of weeks ago).   So,  no luck, continuing the brown my thermostat started blinking and I decided to shut off the power to house at the main breaker.  I'm not one to wait on a house to burn down.  But, the thought of needing an electrician was something I didn't want to think about (not after having a plumber here a week ago and being in the middle of remodeling a bathroom and finishing school this week).  Apparently we were not in any danger of anything happening as I updated below.  But, burnt electrical wiring is unsettling. 

I called my husband and he told me I should take photographs of the electrical box while the workers were gone, so I went inside and got  my camera.  Which the workers were at my house less than an hour after I called the electric company and I appreciate their very quick response and faster repair.  

I didn't really look that close, I was just taking a couple of shots in case our furnace was fried or other electrical issues.  Now seeing this is disturbing but after I initially posted this a friend sent me a message telling me what happened.

Although it was disconcerting seeing this, I snapped these as the workers went to get what they needed to fix it.  Their office is not a mile or so away.  

I did have a friend whose house caught  on fire do to problems originating from his pole and the electrical company.    If your electricity starts doing freakishly weird brownouts in one room while your television is running just fine shut the power off and call the electrical company.  

Here is what happened per my friend who knows far more about this than I do: 

That is a big pain in the ass but you weren't in nay real danger. That was caused by a loose connection at that terminal where the meter plugs in. What happens is that loose connection causes it to need more amperage. You can tell it was a loose connection by the white or gray powdery looking stuff built up around the burned up terminal (on the left).
That rise in amperage has been cooking that wire for a while and it set off a chain reaction. Amperage creates heat which creates resistance which then requires more amperage which again creates more heat. It eventually just created a big electric arc welder in there. The metal in the terminal began to slowly erode away, again requiring more amperage. That increase in heat ate away the insulation and started to burn the wire. When that wire began to melt, the other wire, which was in contact with it started to burn as well. That was the brown out. The power went completely out when the wire BOTH burnt completely thru. When the first wired burned up, you lost power to half your house and all your appliances that required 220 volts. Then while the wires were temporarily connected, there was moment where that one remaining wire tried to carry both legs of power till they became disconnected when they burned up. You weren't in any real danger. That box did it's job, which was to contain the reaction until it broke it's own circuit, which it did when the wires burned thru. What they were doing on the pole was replacing the wire and disconnecting the lines so they could replace the meter base. These things get loose over time thru thermal expansion. There shouldn't be any damage to any of your stuff. Your breakers should have tripped if there was a significant rise in voltage in any of those legs.
You should have you breaker box checked for loose terminals, especially if you have aluminum wiring or old cloth insulated wiring. That can really cause major problems.

 

So I went to the duck pen and snapped a photo of the workers checking the line up to the top of the pole which thankfully was fine.  They also told me what happened and that it burnt out at the box.  

Look at how big Squawkers is getting!  It's sad I cooked myself eggs for breakfast which I never do and I only ate half of them and couldn't enjoy them because of the power.  This is probably a sign from God that I should never cook breakfast.  I'll remember that tomorrow. 

 

I appreciate the information about why the power browned out and what was happening.  So, I thought I'd update what I wrote this morning.   

 

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Spring has been slow to arrive this year, we've had a few hot days with many cooler than normal days this year.  I haven't been out as much in March and April like I normally am, but I made it out for a run today.  I finished my four miles and loaded up my dog and got in the car to head home and decided to stop and photograph some of the wildflowers in the ditch.  

Frame after frame they are always lovely, yet what was once an exciting shot to capture is now a routine event.  But, I still enjoy their beauty.  They sit quietly on the side of the road just a yellow blur for passing vehicles.  

The sun is in this image.  It amazes me that modern people seem to have a sense of "amazement" that ancient people had such an intricate knowledge of the sun, moon, and stars.   I believe the amazement of the ancient people's knowledge is that it is knowledge we, overall, as a culture lack.  Most Americans aren't aware of the sunrise and sunset and how the sun moves upon the horizon through out the year.  We, don't think about this as we lock ourselves up indoors with our computers, televisions and artificial world.  We will sit and be "amazed" that ancient people, possessed this knowledge yet we don't think about why they knew the world so well.   It is because we do not, we are a large populace of dependents who are out of touch with the living world around us.  

The ancient people would be amazed at how most of us know nothing about the movement of the sun, moon, and stars.  They would be amazed because the sun was their calendar and datebook. Gatherings would happen with the movements of the Universe and this went on for centuries, without writing, without paper, without cars, without the wheel.  The people of ancient North America were fare more sophisticated than many people know.  

I wonder if the ancient people would feel sorry for us.  They would think that we are lacking something in our lives.  We communicate without our voices, we make connections without the spoken word. 

I can share these images with you, but you can't smell the dust, the wind, the sweet smell of the budding greenery.  You can see the world through my eyes but you can't sit down in the dirt and feel the earth.  You can't appreciate the subtle changes year after  year without watching the earth come to life, yet even in the winter the earth is alive.  

A world without bees is a world we do not want to live in.   

I was sitting in the ditch photographing these flowers when I heard a rustling. I jumped back immediately thinking "snake."  No, it wasn't a snake, it was something I hate being stung by though. 

I don't like being stung by scorpions, it hurts far worse than a bee or wasp sting.  Please hide your eyes for the "wild America" section of this post is coming next.  I left and continued down the road on my way home and two huge rabbits bounced across the road. I had my camera in my lap and was ready to photograph (although I didn't have my good telephoto lens on).   I stopped and thought I could get a shot or two.  

By the time I got my camera ready to shoot, I realized that they weren't "chasing" one another.  This was the call of the wild.  

This triggered my memory of reading of the Jack Rabbit plague during the Dust Bowl.  

Blurry bunnies on the run, or on the chase..  waiting to be caught it appears not to be much of a chase. 

They continued their amorous adventure into the field.  Paying not attention to the voyeur with the camera.  Absorbed in their bunny mating rituals, the dance that leads to new life on this cool May afternoon.  

The chase continued for a few minutes zig zagging across the field.

A zoomed, blurry shot. 

I normally woudln't have stopped and photographed this, but I rarely see Jack Rabbits and these were two big bunnies.  I hope seeing them in the distance in a field gives you the idea of their size.  

 

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This is Why I Love OU

I'm in my last week of finishing my Master's Degree at OU.  The University of Oklahoma, those symbols "OU" are everywhere you go. You can't drive down a street without seeing "OU" emblazoned on somone's car. You can't walk into a restaurant or go into a store.  I always said that I wouldn't become a "fan" of a big state school until I had a degree from one.  Where it would have some meaning for me, rather than just being a team representing my state.  The Native American Studies program is why I love OU.  Not, football or tailgating. 

Thursday Morning I defended my Thesis for my Master's Degree. Now, if you're into pain, punishment and awkwardness I suggest going through this process.  It probably shouldn't be done sober.  Thursday afternoon I went to one of our Professor's retirement reception.   

Here are quite a few of the Professors that I've had classes with the last two years.  These people are what make a University. The sports team is great for people who have never been to college, it's nice to feel that connection to a "place" or say you've been to a game or two.  But what really makes this University is the Professors, the teachers, the students. 

One of the students hugging Dr. Hobson on her retirement.  She is the Graduate advisor.  My favorite photo of the day.  

Dr. Bread and Dr. Shotton with Dr. Hobson.  I came into this program with doubts, mainly because I had spent too many years out of school while teaching school myself.  I have had a very emotional two years and it was a lot of work.  Going to school at OU, was definitely far more challenging than the other Master's Degree program that I was in.  Unfortunately the Native American Studies program at OU, is merely a program.  It is not a "Department," it needs to be a department because students like me cannot continue to become a PhD candidate in Native American Studies ast OU, we would have to go to Arizona or California to obtain a PhD in Native American Studies.  In a state with such a high Native representation an interdisciplinary program should be in place to allow our own Native students the option for a PhD.  This program fit greatly with my undergraduate education at USAO in Chickasha, whose emphasis was on interdiscplinary studies.  Not science as a stand alone subject or arts or humanities,  the Interdisciplinary approach shows the complexity of the world through using multiple discpline in an educational setting.  

My favorite friend from the last two years, she's made Native American Studies great.  Oh, the cake that was pretty good too.  

So this week I will be finishing up my paperwork (oh, please let it end)- and attending the Graduation ceremonies.  I have had the goal of obtaining my MA since I was a teenager and perhaps looking beyond that, I am now 35 years old and am accomplishing this goal.   That is one great thing about education, there is not an age limit on it.  I enter the uncertainty of not having this goal to reach after having had it for so many years. I could have had a masters degree in special education a few years ago but I decided I didn't want to be defined by those studies, I decided I didn't want to be an expert in education, yet walk away two years later feeling as if I've had two years of observation in teaching practices and what makes education work (and doesn't).  The best teachers aren't the ones who are the best at grading and evaluating, the best teachers make the student feel important and worthy and put their energy into teaching first. 

I remember how intimidated I was when I was accepted into the program at OU. I had always went to small schools.  I found small class sizes in my program, and a personal atmosphere it was not what I expected.  One thing I like about the campus is it is a nice, safe campus. I would have no issue sending a child of mine to school here.  The University of Oklahoma is a great school and I'm proud to have went here.  This is why I love OU, not athletics.  A good athletic program that brings a sense of pride is just an enhancement to a wonderful school.  Teaching high school is a far easier job than getting a Master's degree.  A pet peeve of mine is when I hear people talking about how going to college isn't "work" or a "real job,"  well going to school at OU is more "work" and pressure than any real job that I've had. 

 

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My Brother gave me a call last Friday or Saturday and asked me if I wanted to come photograph an old house which he was going to tear down and salvage the wood and materials out of it.  I, of course, said yes.  Despite knowing all of the things I should be doing and working on, could not miss out on an opportunity like this.  Isn't it interesting how when you see a place like this, that you wonder what kind of people lived here.  You have a nostalgia for the memories that once filled this house.  You can feel the decades of life that went on within these abandoned walls and can't help but wonder why the house was abandoned and left by its owners.   

Thanks to the tin roof the house was sound and solid indoors.  I imagine this house is at least a hundred years old or more.  It has not been lived in for a very long time, so what a treat to be able to go through it.  My friend Carolyn joined me.  It was the first time that I've ever went out shootinng with a fellow photography enthusiast and normally it is my form of solitude, but I discovered how much fun it is to get out and actually talk to someone who has the same passion that you do.  We had a great time, you should go like her page on Facebook!  

Sunday was just what I needed. After a dismal April of cold,rainy weather not to mention being trapped indoors staring at a microsoft document for hours on end, I could not resist the chance to get outside.  Carolyn and I had chatted back and forth about going out shooting together since she shoots the same sorts of things that I do, and we finally had that opportunity.  

These photos will take up more than one post and they are not in chronological order.   The lovely basement was the last room that we shot.  It was filled with jars and jars.  Empty jars and a plethora of jars filled with black syrupy goo, which I can only imagine was 50-60 year old preserved jelly or preserves.  Tasty.   So tasty in fact I picked up a jar, which apparently was not sealed and it leaked all over my hand. I know it was a sugary substance.  I'm patiently waiting to see if I have some horrid bacterial illness multiplying within my body.  

See, the jelly dripping out of the jar.  Well, it's dripping because yours truly picked it up, thinking it was sealed.  Of course..  it wasn't.  Ewww.. germophobes - go wash your hands now.  Fortunately, most things don't freak me out.  

I rinsed my hand with an entire bottle of bottled water and regretted not having anything anti-bacterial in my car.  I am afraid to read botulism symptoms since I went there and have had a twenty four hour headache now (which is unusual).  I will blame graduate school for the headache though.  If I die from the basement syrup, I want "It Was Worth It." printed on my tombstone, because opportunities like this are totally worth it.  This was probably one of the most fun days I've had with the photography.   I refuse to read the symptoms of Botulism on webmd for the next week or so, or until the headache goes away.  I'm the hypochondriac who won't ever go to the doctor.  

This chair was in the basement.   The basement was dark and I had to use my external flash on these shots.   Totally worth it.   Thanks to my Mom for buying me the external flash, or I'd have never got my creepy basement shots.   

Feed sack below the window in an upstairs room.  I'm getting tired and really do have a headache.  

Some peeling paint. I have so many more shots to edit, yet I'm too tired.  For the second time in April I went for a run this evening.  I pretty much stopped to work on my thesis this month.  One reason I stopped is because running is excellent for anxiety, it would kill my anxiety and my worries about deadlines would pretty much be gone temporarily.  It was also a pretty cold month which didn't encourage me.  But, I can't wait to share more of these photos tomorrow as I cram for my final in my other class.  So goodnight readers.  You should leave a comment occasionally so I'm not just deleting spam, I would love to hear what you think of this page.   

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Chickasaw Cultural Center 2013

My Son wanted to go to the Chickasaw cultural center for his 15th birthday.  He also went to the Chickasaw Cultural center on his 14th Birthday.   I didn't start reading and researching into the history of the tribes until my Archaeology of North America class last fall.  So, I've went to this museum quite a few times since it has been open.  We often go to Sulphur, it's not an hour away and one of my kids favorite places to go.  We went last Sunday on a day when I pretty much felt sick and anxious about the work that I am doing for school. I wasn't in the mood to be here.  

I approached writing a Thesis on Native American issues with a culturally assimilated background carefully.  I felt that if I didn't know about my own heritage, how could I write about others?  I wonder how many tribal members lost their heritage as American Indians, their cultural ties because of the Governmental Removal and Assimilation process.  There are plenty of people who are tribal members who know nothing about their heritage.  That is why places like the Chickasaw Cultural center are important.  This is an important place not only for the Chickasaws, but the Choctaws. So if you are a Choctaw you should go here and visit, because much of the ancestral history is shared.  But, at the time of Colonization the Choctaws sided with the French, so our heritage is written and shaped by the French 17th century perspective, although European France in the 17th century was everything Europe envied, in the arts.  

Editing these photos holds another purpose for me, I'm not just playing on the computer while I should be working. I have to make a powerpoint for a class and I'm trying to get these edited to incorporate into it.  

I photographed more of the displays this year.  My interest is greater.  My Son has been teaching himself the Choctaw language this year, independently to a degree. He has been my language instructor.  I'm amazed at his knowledge, I'm also amazed at how much he has taught me. I struggle with language courses and I really have a hard time learning new languages.  But, I have learned a lot of Choctaw- which of course helps with Chickasaw.  

Even if you have little interest in Native Culture and history, this museum is worth going to because it is incredibly beautiful. The architecture alone is incredibly gorgeous, it is sleek and has beautiful lines.  I can't describe what it feels like to walk inside and view this beautiful building.  

It also holds a four story tall movie screen, which I still have not had the opportunity to go see a film in the theater!  

The almost 15 year old didn't want to pose for any photos.  

But he could smell food.  He wanted to eat (his favorite hobby).  

He thought the grape dumplings were pretty great. 

Filled with light, copper, and pine.  

Yes this is leaning.  Read below.  

My ancestors stayed with Chata, now, doesn't this story remind you of the story of Ancient Rome? 

Which now I have found the "Travels of William Bartram" and downloaded it and am looking for this quote.  The internet is amazing. 

Onchaba is the Chickasaw word for mounds.  Now, to my area of interest.  The Mississippian cultures and their impact all over the eastern United States. I'm also looking at how they are being incorporated in contemporary art and literature in comparison to the body of work created by anthropologists.  

Moundbuilder symbols which I didn't notice the last time I visited, were obvious and everywhere within the facility.  

This work is a piece by Joshua Hinson on display in the museum.  

You've probably had about enough photos on this post. 

One last thing, crushed shell was used in pottery which has been found all over the eastern United States, all the way up rivers in Nebraska, studying material goods like pottery and just "stuff" that was left behind as trash is what lets us know the interconnectedness of ancient societies.  

This is important and think about how many objects associated from funerals that you see in museums.  Think about why it should ever be acceptable to display someone's burial on display? 

The mound the Chickasaws built in Sulphur.

The view from the mound.  I shouldn't have wrote this post but I had to take a break from the paper. I just want to cry. I just want to be done with this.  I guess I have the images I need for my power point.  

 

 

 

 

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Saturday, I returned to the car show for some daytime shots of the cool cars on Duncan Main Street.  

 I normally wouldn't go to car shows.  This is my second year to visit this one.  There were a lot more cars there this year. 

I pick the winners on my page.  Actually I don't.  I do photograph the cars that I would pick as the winners of the car show.  So, you get to see my excellent, refined, cultured taste in this little bit of American culture and heritage that you see here.  This is a pretty, feisty little machine.   

No matter where I went I kept following this guy.  So he ended up taking me home.  

I like these old trucks.  

In this town of 20,000, main street was filled with people out for a nice April Saturday morning. 

Nervous car owners, shining and polishing their vehicles while waiting on the judges to come by.  

So, my goal is less sugar and more protein. SO I photographed the smoked turkey leg that I had. I neglected to photograph the funnel cake I shared with my husband as we were leaving. If I didn't take a photo of my food and post it on Facebook  it didn't happen.  Right?  

I love the 1950s cars. I actually like 1950s anything, furniture, lamps, decor, dishes.  I'm not an Elvis fan though.  

Shiny, strange reflective things= self portrait.   

Mainstreet Duncan.  I've been to many movies in The Palace Theater (aka "The Cheap Theater") - or the one you can go to and actually afford the popcorn.  

Here is the Facebook Page for the band! 

The car show had two stages set up this year.  

Pony rides for the kids!

Pretty old Ford truck, isn't it.   Please excuse my lack of narration. I just finished a short paper for a class, I'm sleepy and would rather be editing the photos I shot today.  But, I wanted to post more of these car show photos on here for everyone to see. 

Texas Motor Speedway in Ft. Worth was represented.  Not too far of a drive for racing action, only 120 miles from Duncan. 

I suspect this car can probably go really fast.  

This was the coolest way to block off a street.  

I was not the only one impressed.

So the next photo I'm posting is a horrible shot, but I want you to see the rockets on this firetruck, which isn't a firetruck, because it is clearly a very fast rocket propelled vehicle. 

 

See the vignette? Yeah, it's awful. It's horrible, the shot was almost totally white.  But, there are the rockets.  

There you go, the fast firetruck.

I'm super sleepy now.  It's midnight and I've quit drinking Mountain Dew late at night.  I am barely awake. But have a few more shots to bring you before I put away the computer and go to sleep.

 

So as I was about to leave, I found who won the *Blogger's Choice Award (*blogger is me, there is no award).

 

I thought this car was pretty nifty. 

Oh look, there is that Man again.  He's buying me a funnel cake to share with him.  He even stood in line twenty minutes to get it.  ;-) 

 If you don't like my shots, check out Carolyn's here: My Visions by Carolyn Pettijohn

Now, it's bedtime for the reforming insomniac. 

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Duck, Duck, Chicken...

Well, we have already adopted a duck, so now we have two ducks.  We have Squawkers and Pickles. 

Pickles loves swimming.  

He is a diving duck, in the little pool.  

They are going through their gangly, awkward phase. 

We love them, they really give us something to do in the yard.  My 12 year old has turned into the "Mother Hen" of his flock, he gets up on his own without being told and he goes out first thing in the morning and feeds and waters the chickens.  He also puts them up at night.  

Pickles the duck is enjoying his new home.  

look at how big our Squawkers is.  Not much to say about the ducks, chickens and little roosters, but I have a feeling we may be overwhelmed with eggs in the future.  At least we will know where our eggs came from and what our chickens were fed.  

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