4th of July 2010 (actually Saturday July 3rd.) Party at Clint and Jenni's.
Lots of good music, drink, and later fireworks. A common theme all through the day was the 4-wheeling mudding in the adjoining flooded field.
Above is Clint in his Toyota. There were a lot of people walking around with muddy arms and / or legs by the end of the night.
Clint above taking a break.
Above: Some friends of Clint took what I thought to be an almost stock Jeep through the mud.
Made it.
Clint and Matt taking laps around the pond.
Later that night they had an almost surreal look because all you could make out were the headlight(s) moving slowly through the darkness.
(Reminded me a bit of Butch Cassidy & Sundance Kid where they couldn't shake their trackers - they could see them in the distance carrying torches). HERE is a link to Marseilles, Illinois for the off-road track they visit many times a year.
Last Sunday I was gardening and accidentally pulled up these buttercups. I felt sorry for them, so I put them in water and took some pictures. It was rainy out - these are real raindrops, not hose water.
Wet.
I like the enamel like texture of the flowers but just below they look more crepe paperish.
Below you can see the enamel like texture of the flowers
An old term, some pictures, and dark little story told in song. They go well together.
Rakehell:
A rake, short for rakehell, is a historic term applied to a man who is habituated to immoral conduct, frequently a heartless womaniser. Often a rake was a man who wasted his (usually inherited) fortune on gambing, wine, women and song, incurring lavish debts in the process. The rake was also frequently a man who seduced a young woman and impregnated her before leaving, often to her social or financial ruin.
I had entered into a marriage In the summer of my twenty-first year And the bells rang for our wedding Only now do I remember it clear Alright, alright, alright
No more a rake and no more a bachelor I was wedded and it whetted my thirst Until her womb started spilling out babies Only then did I reckon my curse Alright, alright, alright Alright, alright, alright
First came Isaiah with his crinkled little fingers Then came Charlotte and that wretched girl Dawn Ugly Myfanwy died on delivery Mercifully taking her mother along Alright, alright, alright
What can one do when one is a widower Shamefully saddled with three little pests? All that I wanted was the freedom of a new life So my burden I began to divest Alright, alright, alright Alright, alright, alright
Charlotte I buried after feeding her foxglove Dawn was easy, she was drowned in the bath Isaiah fought but was easily bested Burned his body for incurring my wrath Alright, alright, alright
And that's how I came your humble narrator To be living so easy and free Expect that you think that I should be haunted But it never really bothers me Alright, alright, alright Alright, alright, alright
An old rake with no (off the?) handle.
Three tines stuck violently into stump.
Two jail like bars, one horseshoe = three.
Things seen in a bigger perspective. Three of them.
Some misc pictures I took by my wood pile.
Made me think of The Decemberists. And this song.
Old things and many sets of three in the subjects.
I've posted this song before but it worked well with the photos.
(Katie Cassidy from show, mentioned above blog, David Cassidy's daughter, is just now premiering in the remake of Nightmare on Elm Street by the way. And, glad I went back to this old post - I still haven't seen Disco Pigs yet. Ha. Adding to my Netflix queue.!!!!)
This song by Civil Twilight is from Harper Island's soundtrack. Letters from the sky.
I'm starting to hear it more on the radio, it's growing on me. Kind of a Cold Play influence. Muse was mentioned too. I agree.
By the way, this year's version of Harper's Island seems to be Happy Town. I've seen one episode so far. Not unwatcheable. Sheriff reminds me of Stacey Keach. Stephen King influence as most other mystery, supernatural genre summer replacement tv shows are.
Last Sunday I was out in the backyard (for the first time this year) getting the garden ready for planting. One spot (and adjoining rocks) is always overrun with small little (fire?) ants. They swarm up your hands and arms, annoying and sometimes biting while you weed around them. Later, playing around with the camera, I took a close picture (with lens), closer (with more lens), and a closest (macro). I don't have a DSLR so it's pretty hard to keep the focus right on. I thought they came out pretty well. Anyway, fire ants (maybe they are?) in the backyard brought to mind a somewhat local band that's been getting alot of radio play lately,
Backyard Tire Fire:Roadsong #39...
Close.
Closer.
Closest.
Wiki: Backyard Tire Fire is an American trio that formed in Asheville, NC in 2001. The band began in the fall of that year with founding members Ed Anderson (vocals, guitars, keyboards) and Tim Kramp (drums, percussion). After encountering several line-up changes, the Tire Fire moved from Asheville to Athens, Georgia in 2002. They (along with then-bass player Warren Hawk) released their first album Live at the Georgia Theatre later that year.
After the release of their debut album, Backyard Tire Fire relocated once again to Bloomington, Illinois and added Anderson's brother Matt (bass, vocals) into the mix. The Anderson brothers had originally grown up in St. Charles, IL, Tim Kramp in Bloomington, IL and Ed Anderson received his masters in Interpersonal Communication from Illinois State University (located in Normal, IL, Bloomington's sister town).
The song is called HOME, it should make you smile.
[Her:] Alabama, Arkansas, I do love my ma and pa, Not the way that I do love you.
[Him:] Holy, Moley, me, oh my, You're the apple of my eye, Girl I've never loved one like you.
[Her:] Man oh man you're my best friend, I scream it to the nothingness, There ain't nothing that I need.
[Him:] Well, hot and heavy, pumpkin pie, Chocolate candy, Jesus Christ, Ain't nothing please me more than you.
[Both:] Ahh Home. Let me come home Home is wherever I'm with you. Ahh Home. Let me go ho-oh-ome. Home is wherever I'm with you.
La, la, la, la, take me home. Mother, I'm coming home.
[Him:] I'll follow you into the park, Through the jungle through the dark, Girl I never loved one like you.
[Her:] Moats and boats and waterfalls, Alley-ways and pay phone calls, I've been everywhere with you.
[Him:] We laugh until we think we'll die, Barefoot on a summer night Nothin' new is sweeter than with you
[Her:] And in the streets you run afree, Like it's only you and me, Geeze, you're something to see.
[Both:] Ahh Home. Let me go home. Home is wherever I'm with you. Ahh Home. Let me go ho-oh-ome. Home is wherever I'm with you.
La, la, la, la, take me home. Daddy, I'm coming home.
(Talking) Him: Jade Her: Alexander Him: Do you remember that day you fell outta my window? Her: I sure do, you came jumping out after me. Him: Well, you fell on the concrete, nearly broke your ass, you were bleeding all over the place and I rushed you out to the hospital, you remember that? Her: Yes I do. Him: Well there's something I never told you about that night. Her: What didn't you tell me? Him: While you were sitting in the backseat smoking a cigarette you thought was gonna be your last, I was falling deep, deeply in love with you, and I never told you til just now.
[Both:] Ahh Home. Let me go home. Home is wherever I'm with you. Ahh Home. Let me go ho-oh-ome. Home is where I'm alone with you.
[Him:] Home. Let me come home. Home is wherever I'm with you.
[Her:] Ahh home. Yes I am ho-oh-ome. Home is when I'm alone with you.
[Her:] Alabama, Arkansas, I do love my ma and pa... Moats and boats and waterfalls, Alley-ways and pay phone calls...
[Both:] Ahh Home. Let me go home. Home is wherever I'm with you. Ahh Home. Let me go ho-oh-ome. Home is where I'm alone with you...
Once, long ago there was a group of cursillistas (those who've just attended a Cursillo weekend) in Spain riding home on a bus, singing and rejoicing, when the weather turned....a frightening storm with lightning and thunder had them huddling together in the bus on the side of the road, and even halted their singing. But when the storm was over, the clouds parted and the sun peeked through.
As the tension lessened, one cursillista looked out the window at the farm they had parked in front of; and there saw a rooster, resplendent in colour in the sparkling aftermath of the storm.
Singing and shouting 'De Colores!' the cursillistas began to rejoice again, writing a 70-verse song of praise and rejoicing in the shining colors of a little rooster! Hence, the greeting, De Colores.
I'd like to think this carousel horse would flourish in the colorful world mentioned above.
Horses of a different color HODC benefited the Main Stay Therapeutic Riding Program, Inc, in cooperation with the city of Woodstock, Illinois.
This one was called Circle of Roundby Nancy L. Steinmeyer ofBull Valley, IL. I included thumbnails below for a better perspective.