I Haven't Felt Like

Blogging... despite the incredible amount of content that I have.  I've got an amazing archive of all of these places I've visited.  Yet, I have writers blog.  I just don't care about sharing myself on this format as much.  I don't worry about my images and content.  I don't need the following and I'm just no longer interested or truly engaged in maintaining this blog.  

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Last Saturday morning I was in Oklahoma. I got my wildflower shooting in.  I'm glad I was home, but at the same time it was a trip where I experienced the most pride in my son and it was the worst trip that I've made home.   

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I was so homesick the week before. I am so tired of the snow every week that we get here on the Colorado Plateau.   I just wanted to go home and feel like I was at home.   

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But sometimes home isn't a place. Home is a person.  

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And I didn't have that person last weekend.   

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2017 has been an incredibly difficult year.   

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I just want everything to be okay.   

Life With Dogs

Photography when done for my own happiness is a form of mindfulness. It's a meditation.   But, often when I'm shooting for others it is stress, anxiety and the desire to perform and please people.  

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The days I want to escape the most are the days when the puffy cumulous clouds dot the sky and the earth is green.   The dogs were eager to ride in the truck.   It was a new way to ride. 

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I'm continually torn between running as a business or quitting and doing this hobby only for myself.  This art, this craft, this skill that is photography. 

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My favorite people in the world are dogs. 

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Their first ride in the back of the truck out to the farm.  Don't worry they were safe and we weren't going fast at all.  

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Everyday is a good day if you're a spoiled dog.  

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Music, being in the country, dogs, and traveling the things I love.  Oh, and photography of course.   I'm glad I found this hobby it has profoundly affected how I see the world.  

I really like this article titled" Why Creative People Sometimes Make No Sense" 

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Pumpkin is insane.  Sister is odd and the Puppy may be taking after Pumpkin.  lol 

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My blog could almost be called life with dogs.  After teaching all day I don't feel like writing when I post images.   I barely have time to do this, as I'm still fulfilling obligations that I've already had.  

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I need to go to bed, but I'm making a birthday cake for my second child who is about to turn 18 tomorrow.  When people tell you "they grow up so fast" it is very true.  

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The do enjoy themselves. 

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There will be no photographing of the Indian Paintbrush.  

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"Here let me hold your hair while you photograph that flower."  


There are a lot of dog pictures on my blog.  Dogs are a huge part of my life.  My big dogs, my little dogs, puppies, my sister's dogs ... I love dogs.   When I was small my Aunt Billie took me to get my first puppy, a Collie which we named Lassie.  Then for the rest of my childhood we had and raised Collies,  yes, we were the "pure breed" dog breeder family that so many people today get outraged about.  The outrage annoys me because I had a childhood of puppies. Not just one puppy for a  year or two but years of puppies to love and adore.  Raising animals teaches you compassion and love.  I also had chores, I had to care for the dogs after school as I got older and I showed dogs for 4H.  My friends who breed and raise purebred dogs love their dogs more than most people I know.  I am constantly seeing pictures of their children with their dogs and puppies.   I realize there are horror stories about people who don't care for their animals but that can be anyone, right down to the people who "rescue" animals.   


Since he was adopted right before Easter his name is The Easter Buddy... which goes well with his new Sister

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I got a few shots of Pumpkin this afternoon playing ball and the other dogs.  


I mean how precious is he?  Super precious.  I can't wait to get home and cuddle my little boy.   


He's so hard to shoot he won't stay still most of these shots are not totally in focus.  He's a little stinker.  

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And awed, Sweet little Buddy meets his Big Sister.  

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Here is my Ozzie boy with the new boy.  

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He is a noble old dog.  We call him "Old Man" though, most of the time.   


Trade Offs

So one of the subjects I teach is Economics.   One topic of economics is "trade-offs"  whenever you choose one thing over another it is a trade-off.   Just like having a full time job, family and long commute, that is a trade-off that I make five days a week.   So because I'm writing about my trade-offs right here let me tell you what I did this weekend.  Part of my schedule is driving my daughter to work and picking her up which is two hours a day all weekend.   That, of course is worthwhile because she is working full time and building a work ethic.  

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Oh yeah Saturday my "Baby Boy" turned 15.  Boy time flies my first blog post for him was when he was ten and a photo of him driving the tractor that I posted in 2011 has kind of went wild online.   

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So we have a 15 year old.   I can't believe it.   My oldest is visiting my alma-mater today and looking at college for her future and my oldest son will be 18 soon.   

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After we had cake I drove to Sulphur to check out some of the hiking trails at the Chickasaw National Recreation Area.   I just get restless and need to get out and do something.   This was about the closest place and I had wanted to check out the hiking we usually go in the middle of summer and go swimming.  

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I'm slowly getting back on track with exercise, but it seems like things come up to mess up my schedule it's frustrating.  I will never be great at dieting but I can exercise.  

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I'm continually stressed this year. But it is good to get outside.  

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Besides swimming at the falls there are lots of great trails here.  I find something new every time I visit. 

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So no housework was caught up on this weekend. I traded that time for a chance to go to the park.  

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A quick hike to a spectacular view. 

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Definitely worth the time for  a short hike.  

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But I can't forget the creek. 

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Or the bridge...

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On the way home.. I've passed this a million times always vowing to stop someday. I finally did. No some of these aren't the greatest shots... but that's okay.  

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I hate seeing the turbines, but they did add a little extra to this shot.  

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I finally made it home by the time the sun was was a beautiful sunset.   Now I have to go to bed because I have a long day tomorrow.   

Grandma's Trunk

A deeply spiritual woman who lived her life in the spirit of the 19th century.   My Grandma was a throwback to a simpler time.   She was 41 when my father was born in the late 1930s.   She was sixteen when the Titanic sunk.  President Grover Cleveland was in office when she was born.  She lived through WWI, WWII, The Cold War and Vietnam.  She left me her trunk that she had as a girl.  The eldest of ten children, her mother was a teacher and her father was the Justice of the Peace in Umpire Arkansas for sixty years.  She, like so many in my family was a teacher, but a teacher in a one room schoolhouse.    She married my Grandfather in 1922 after a courtship of where he rode his mule eleven miles to meet her. She had five children with my Dad as the youngest.  

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Her school books all over 100 years old now...  

Grandma always wore her long black hair in a bun.   She was not a small lady, but she always wore a dress and smelled of Noxema for her Eczema.  She made homemade cornbread every single day.   She always cooked for us but I remember it was often interesting.   She watched Jeopardy every single day.  She kept lemon drops and ginger snap cookies.  I remember staying the summer with her and I remember her letting me go through her trunk, which was just magical to me.  

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Bootsy liked the trunk too.  

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I know she shaped me because she was living history.   A sunbonnet was on her head when she went outside.  She kept her skin out of the sun, she had that strong southern drawl and whenever we came to visit in Oklahoma she would be awake until we arrived, even if it was three in the morning.   So my faded memories of my Grandmother are refreshed with the sound of her voice that I got to relive thanks to a cousin who sent me a copy of her telling her story.  

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Opening the trunk strikes you with the musty, old book smell.  Old worn and faded cloth, filled with old newspapers, and tidbits of her life.  Keepsakes, like baby clothes and a rattle that was my fathers.  School work from her children.  Letters from her sister.  

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This is a cry for the importance of vaccinations... 

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The odds and ends from decades ago, really resemble the stuff that I tuck away... old bank statements, random unimportant things.  Things that we all need that unite the past and present. 

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 A letter from her sister, a newlywed.  

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 Arrowheads, ceramic figurines, old pocket knife...  just the odds and ends that ended up in Grandma's trunk. 

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 Letters from sisters...  

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Her black hair was once auburn, this was the hair she saved after brushing and a woman made it into a hairpiece for her.  I remember her telling me this story. 

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This 1922 article is pretty upset about women wearing pants and foregoing the hosiery.  I think it was as great idea, myself.  My Grandmother was 26 in 1922.

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1922 wasn't a good time to be enforcing prohibition for this man.

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My Dad's baby rattle.   I have more images but this is just a few to put up tonight.  

Grandma Sharp from Joy Franklin on Vimeo.

 This is still one of the best gifts I've had.   To be able to hear the loved ones that you've lost is priceless. I love having images but I believe we should record ourselves and our family because someday the sounds will be as important as the images.   

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