Picture-taking

I've been thinking about pictures.  Each time I go on some outing, and take a ton of pictures (read, about 80), I think back.  When I was 12, I took 24 pictures in an entire week at camp.  My first year of college, I took 24 pictures.  (Granted, I got digital pictures from friends' cameras.)  In part, it was because my camera was a bit unwieldy to carry around,

and by the time I got the lighting set and the image focused, whoever was getting their picture taken was getting antsy.  And in part, it was because I didn't want to deal with having my film developed.

I bought my digital camera in 2004.  Since then, I've taken almost 4700 pictures.  That's close to 700 a year.  And then I have pictures I've collected from other people's cameras.  I have a lot of pictures to document the last 7 years of my life.  And then I think about what will actually be worth looking at again.  What, 20 years from now, will I actually look back at?  I'm getting better at deleting bad pictures, or even a good picture, when I took 3 of the same thing, and picked my favorite.  I don't want to have tons of pictures I never look at.  I'd rather have a few choice ones.

And, since I can't really talk about taking pictures without posting some, here are some favorites (without people in them) that I've taken over the past 7 years.

And then there was one

I found some lovely glass drinking glasses at a thrift store a number of years ago.  I bought as many as I could find that matched--7.  And they were great.  (I have problems with cheap plastic glasses--I can't stand the way they feel against my mouth.)

When I moved across the country for grad school, one broke in transit.  When David came to visit me, he broke one.  The next time David came to visit me, I broke one.  After we got married, I broke one.  Then David broke one.  Then, a few weeks ago, I broke another.  Now, there is just one lone glass.

On the Roof

This post is inspired by the journal jar question: What were some of your (outdoor) chores growing up?

I first got to climb on the roof when I was about 12.  We had this wooden ladder that ended a foot below the roof, so the last step was a bit tricky, especially getting down.  I remember my mom standing on the ladder below me and guiding my foot to where I needed to step.  Later we got a nice metal ladder that reached to the top of the roof (as seen in the picture below).

In the winter, we had to shovel off the roof, and chisel the ice out of the gutters.  If we didn't, the snow right against the roof would melt, flow down the roof to the gutter, where there wasn't any room for it, and then would seep under the roof, damaging the ceiling.  (Yes, that was learned from experience.)

In the fall, we filled bags and bags with the leaves from the gutter.  In the spring, it was helicopters (maple seeds).  We had to reach down and pick up handfuls of soggy leaves or seeds (sometimes both), put them in the bag, then move over a few feet and continue.  It was interesting to see how many little trees had sprouted in the gutter.  And it was amazing to see how clogged the gutters got right around the drain pipes.  We had some mesh stoppers at the drain pipes to keep the leaves from going down, but the leaves gathered all around the stopper and kept the water from going down, either.  One summer the entire roof and gutters were covered with cicada carcasses.  (Of course, that shouldn't be too surprising, because the sidewalk was covered with them, too.)

Just a few years ago, I was at my parents' house and volunteered to clean out the gutters.  This time, I had a new toy.

I remember watching the neighbor's landscapers clean out their gutters with a leaf blower.  It's fun.  Although it's not as thorough as I used to think it was--I still had to scoop up a lot of the leaves by hand.

Farewell to an old friend

Some of you know that I eat pancakes for breakfast 5 days a week.  I don't like cold cereal, and pancakes are quick and easy.  For the past 6 years, I've been using this electric skillet to cook my pancakes.

It died on Friday the thirteenth.

This skillet was not mine originally.  I commandeered it from a roommate when she left on a mission.  (Yes, that's the word we used when I claimed it--Pirates of the Carribean was fairly recently out, and it was fun to quote Jack Sparrow.)  She hasn't missed it, since.

This skillet did a great job.  It heated up quickly, cooked evenly, and was cleaned easily.  Okay, you're probably thinking that it doesn't look all that clean, but burnt-on grease doesn't count.

And now, I can't find a skillet like this anymore!  For one thing, they're all non-stick.  Which means that my lovely Cutco spatula (found at a thrift store) just has to sit in the drawer.

[As an aside, after David and I let a friend give us the whole Cutco presentation/demonstration, David had a lot more respect for that spatula.]

Our new skillet doesn't cook quite as nicely, either.  But it's hard to pick one when any skillet has a number of negative reviews!  So this is a farewell to my old, trusty skillet.  It served me well.

Things I don't recommend

I don't recommend driving during a tornado warning.

This was the second semi accident we saw when we got back onto the interstate after the wind and rain had subsided.  I spotted 2 police cars, 2 ambulances, and a fire truck.

Blizzards

Thursday night, we decided we wanted shakes.  But, it seems silly to shell out $6 or so for Dairy Queen blizzards.  So, we took that money, went to the grocery store, and came home with Cookie Dough Ice Cream (the base), along with some Snickers bars (apparently I hadn't bought enough during the after-Halloween sales).  Then, we made our blizzard.

The chopped up Snickers bars, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, and Kit Kat bar.  (I had bought enough Reese's Peanut Butter Cups and Kit Kat bars during the after-Halloween sales.)  We also added Oreo crumbs and M&Ms.

 Adding the candy.

 Our homemade blizzard defied gravity, too.

It was delicious!  And just the right amount of candy added.  We'll definitely be making this again.

"What are you trying to tell me?"

Back in junior high, on the Science Olympiad team, I competed in an event called "What are you trying to tell me?"  In it, you were given a bunch of visual and written representations of information: graphs, plots, nutrition facts, to name a few.

Then you were asked questions about the information.  I really liked that event, because it was easy for me.  (I think I got 3rd in State one year for that event.)  I could take the information, dissect it, and give back answers about what you would really want to learn from the graphics.  (What is this image telling me, you may ask?  It says that a structure with this cross section, attached to a wall at the left and with a load applied at the right, will fail at the dark red and dark blue points.)

Last week, I went to a conference, and one of the speakers reminded me of this event.  He is an electrical engineering / computer science professor, and his entire research is coming up with new ways to visualize information.  Working with one sponsor, he and his grad students took data that the sponsoring agency already collected, and reorganized it.  Suddenly, the decisions the sponsor tried to make from that data were so much clearer!  It was funny for me to listen to this speaker and just kind of think: come on, anyone can do that.

But you know what?  Not anyone can.  Just look at instruction manuals.  Just read an email with a slew of things you're being asked to do.  It really is a skill to organize information, or to interpret disorganized information.