Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Warm Family Photos

While the East Coast thaws out -- and by thaws out, breathes deeply of temperatures above freezing and looks around wildly for buckets while alllllllllllllllllllllllll kinds of roof leaks are suddenly apparent in bubbles in drywall and water dripping from new and exiting places -- the nieces and nephews in the Western states get to play outside.

Thanks to Grumpa and their folks for sharing.

 Sarah and Cannon checking on Grandmary and Grumpa's house for them.

As of March 8th, the Idaho kids were out exploring the local waterways,
 while Jaime decided to pose for her 3 month photo portfolio.
Sweet Sunny Girl.

It was 62 degrees this afternoon. Even though the sun was starting to go down by the time I got off my trains by the Attic, and it was starting to be colder, I may have decided NOT to wear my coat home -- just because.

Because ...

BECAUSE I NEED IT TO BE SPRING!



Even if my office has sprung leaks.

Friday, March 6, 2015

Storm Skyviews

Just as a record, THIS is what the East Coast looked like the last few days:

THIS pretty much sums it up. And probably the best way to deal with it.

Thursday, March 5, 2015

4 Out of 5 March Days = Snow

This March Madness is a "hare" crazy. This latest storm is pretty, at least, but out of the last 5 days? It's snowed, sleeted, and/or rained 4 of them. On top of what we already have on the ground or in piles? It's making everyone a bit ... GRRRRR.

Caramoor is a winter wonderland, and I'm sure the back woods are gorgeous. It's unfortunately over waist-high in some spots though, and I don't have enough winter-gear to break paths just to go exploring.

 Fifty shades of grey on the north commute

 Even the Caramoor gargoyles are saying:
NOOOOOOOOOO MOOOOOOOOOORE SNOOOOOOOOWWWWWWW! 
This storm did add a pretty outline to everything though -- and future rust.
 You have to look for the pops of color:
 
  Yo Mother Nature? Saints perserve us! Don't ice us out!
 The poor gardens are just completely buried.
All of our stucco is buckling and concrete finials are really suffering. This one looks okay, but other are starting to erode. (As is our patience....)

At least this mural is holding up - and reminds us of what spring/summer is like.
   But ENOUGH already. I want to walk away.

 ~photos by iTouch

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Marching Forth: Trudging for the Train


 ~photos by iTouch

New Year's Resolutions: Write More ... Well, Edit More

One of my very unofficial resolutions, both personal and professional, was to write more this year.

Maybe I should have been more specific. BLOGGING, per se, didn't end up being part of the resolution.

However, I do have some photographic evidence that I have been in editorial/publishing mode.

Behold, evidence of the 60 page departmental "annual report" that I helped compile, lay-out, edit, print, collate, and assemble for internal use. It was a team effort, definitely, but ... I helped. Yes, we went old-school spiral binding on the 50 copies I did last week, but ... old-school was leaps and bounds ahead of what last year's looked like.

AND ... I was 3 days ahead of production deadlines.

 And I have a new appreciation for the publishing process and our in-house program compiler.




Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Rub it in, Scottsdale!

Another March day, Another Snowy commute.

This was the view on the train platform home:




This was the HUGE advertisement from Scottsdale, Arizona. Rub it in, why don't cha?

~photos iTouch

Monday, March 2, 2015

Love and Longing In The Lift


for Gdawg, where/whenever he may be

It happened again the other day
Taking the lift, as I normally do.

I swear I felt your presence there,
Beside me,
Almost like you were really there ...

Like we could just smile, and reach out take each other's hand.

Then, in the exact moment that feeling resonated,
Realization followed,
Sorrow was swallowed,
and I arrived at my floor.

I took a deep (steadying) breath,
Opened the lift door,
and stepped out (determinedly)
Out to my reality.

As alone as when I was before that tantalizingly tangible tic of time.

Where are you?

Has our "lift" door closed?