Rome was not ridden in a day

 

Friday, September 18, 2009

BBBQ 2009

Have I mentioned yet that I won't be attending the event this year. It just so happens that I work all four days of the BBQ and I won't have any vacation until January. I'll make up for it next year. Zach is in almost the same situation, he's going to make it there for one day though.
So have fun all of you that make it to the 10Th anniversary of BBBQ.

A new camera and reading glasses.

I finally bought a new camera. I opted for the small easily transportable Sony which is not even as big as a pack of cigarettes. It has 12.1 mp, which is awesome. It takes really good videos also.
It has a rechargable lithium battery which I hope will last a long time between charges. Until I figure out how long the battery lasts I'll take along my old camera as a backup. Which brings me to the reading glasses part of this post. Remember the ghosts I had on all the pics, which is the reason I bought the new camera? The other day my father in law was at the house, I was showing him my new camera. I told him about the old camera having the ghosts problem. He pulled out his reading classes, looked at the Pentax and told me that the smudge was on the outside of the lense. I borrowed his glasses and the rest is history. I used cleaning solution and the smudge came off fairly easy. So there you have it, stupid is as stupid does.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

The end of the Telegraph Tree, Pottsville, Ar.



The last one. It's only a tree, I suppose that's why it hasn't made the news. I know how it is, these things stand around for ages, collecting dust and bugs, getting rained on, losing appendages, fighting off diseases, making it from one winter to another, soaking in the sun between naps, waking up without a complaint. Kids play around them, wagons stop, drivers have dinner beneath the towering branches. Lovers sit on blankets having picnics while the armies of ants and other insects crawl up the gnarly trunk. Year after year, home to thousands of birds, many calling it home. Squirrels, Raccoons and Opossums must have sit on the branches watching the world below. Possibly with old man Pott's hunting dog barking up the trunk.The Telegraph chattered for a time, the tree didn't care, they never do. A Civil War and World Wars have gone by and the tree stands solemnly, quietly, except for the wind through it's branches and the creaking of it's limbs. The road went from dirt with horses traveling by to asphalt and automobiles thundering past.


The tree is dead, there will be no burial, it will stand above the plaque, it's one recognition, waiting, rotting, until someone decides it time to move the corpse. Then in an instant in time, dust will be all there is, as it was and will always be.