Blue Ridge blog

Walking to and from

It doesn't happen often, but occasionally Mother Nature frowns upon us. This time, she made ice, then snow and if that wasn't enough, She laced the snow with more ice. My Jeep will climb just about anything. I have no problem pressing the pedal to the metal and gunning up the icy Killer Hill section of our mountain . After all, I really like "Mr. Toad's Wild Ride". But when it comes to driving downhill on mountain roads-the effect of gravity petrifies me....I'm a chicken.  So, yesterday I parked my Jeep about a half of a mile down our drive (just before Killer Hill) and we are doing the hiking in and out jig.
Today wasn't so bad. I just have my camera gear stashed in my nifty backpack and the girls have their books. We sled down Killer Hill. It is just a mini adventure to start our day.
Tomorrow may prove to be more of a logistical nightmare. It is cello day. I'm hoping for a thaw....

As the whole world watches...

Each Iraqi citizen has the opportunity to vote. I have been following the build-up and anticipation of the day on Fay's Blog . She is an Iraqi citizen who lives in Dallas. Additionally, she provides several great links to Iraqi Blogs and forums. Go spend some of your Sunday quietly reading and absorbing it all. I wonder what the Amercian Revolution would have looked like in Blogdom? Or how bout the Emancipation Proclamation? Or the women's sufferage movement? Or even Rosa Parks? Just a thought....

As if no one told him the water was gonna be cold....

This is one of my outtakes from my assignment to shoot Blowing Rock's 7th annual Polar Plunge. Willing participants dress up in silly costumes and jump into the murky (and did I mention icy) waters of Lake Chetola.
I love this guy's face. I didn't actually hear him curse, but by the way his mouth is shaped I know exactly what he is thinking..."OH S--- !
We have about 5 inches of snow and thankfully no ice today. I am at home now thawing out my toes. And in a few minutes I'm gonna change into my woobies, roll up my sleeves and clean toilets.
Hope your Saturday is at least equally as interesting...

Another Roadside Distraction

This possum was rooting through the decaying leaves searching for treats when the girls and I rudely interrupted his foraging by
driving past him . I put on the brakes and grabbed the camera. He won the stare-down due a forfeit because we were dreadfully
late for school and deadline.

Feed the birds...

I can't remember which Disney movie that line comes from, but I am sure that my Dad inspired the song, just like he inspired me to appreciate our feathered friends.
He sent me the above photo saying, "Can Spring be far behind…? Caught this bluebird perched above our suet block cage. He was trying to figure out how to get into it. Poor bird has a beak that is too short for the job."
My childhood home had a dining room table that faced sliding glass doors which opened upon a deck. Just beyond that was my Dad's birdfeeder. Although the flight pattern of the birds changed with the time of day and season, there was an omni-present set of binoculars in the dining room so that we could identify the visiting birds. I think there was a Peterson's Field Guide of Easten Birds nearby as well.
I remember learning to differentiate the Titmouse from the Chickadee, the Nuthatch from the Towhee, the Finches from the Juncos. Ahh... and for the dreaded Grackles and Starlings...my Dad had special firecracker surprises in store for those roosting nuisances! I believe that my love for the natural sciences was nurture by my Dad.
Ever the scientist, he still finds humor in the feather antics of the game, "Who rules the Roost?"
Note to birds in the vicinity of North Raleigh, NC: I recommend a visit to my Dad's house cause he serves the best suet and bird grub around. He's also good for a glass of wine or two. But beware of the newest neighbor--A Great Horned Owl that has apparently whittled away at the squirrel population... I love you Dad. Remember, Bluebirds are a sign of happiness.

I wish I could fly

     Yesterday afternoon I was listening to the scanner go nuts about an overturned propane truck on an icy slope of Tater Hill. I was familiar with the area and knew that there was no way that I could get a decent photo of it from a safe distance. So I hung out in the Caldwell Community college parking lot listening in case the truck became a bomb. No, I didn't want that to happen, but if it did, it would be my job to record it.
     In any case, a bunch of crows were hanging out and I was gonna shoot them when all the sudden they hastily took their leave. A hawk soared overhead and headed towards a tree to roost. He perched on the tree for several minutes...probably taking in the view of Grandfather Mountain (in the background).
     Last night eldest child refused to sleep in her bedroom. However, my fearless youngest child peacefully slept in her own bed. On her nightstand sat her mouse fighting weapon of choice--a mallet. Thankfully there were no mouse sightings...

A happy message from La France

      Inside my Valle Crucis PO Box I found this postcard from ViVi. Thanx ViVi--what a pleasant surprise! I've had a couple of french speaking visitors to my blog lately. There is  Mathieu , whose blog is in English, but he is currently living in France. And then there is the Blog de Sebastien . Sebastien's blog is in French but he resides in Atlanta. I enjoy reading his perspective of American culture. I studied in France during college and was also a summer exchange student. I think that if I didn't live in the Blue Ridge, I would love to live in a quiet cottage in Normandy.
      Now about last night...Mr. Man  has been derelict in his feline duties. Around 3:30 am, I heard a teenager quietly tip-toeing upstairs. "Mama?" she asked, "Can I sleep with you? George is back and he is under my bed making noises." "Yes," I said.
      You see, George is the field mouse that occupies the wall of her room. He annoys her from time to time with his nocturnal musings.
       About 4:45am, I heard another teenager, my youngest, storming up the stairs. And in a not-so-nice voice she yelled, "Mama, come downstairs and get this rat out of my room, NOW!" Apparently, she doesn't like it when mice join her in her bed.
       I jumped out of my bed and followed her...she was muttering mean things about eldest daughter leaving her door open on purpose.
      When we got downstairs, I was surprised to see some sort of Rube Goldberg contraption on the floor. Apparently, inside a purse, inside a shoebox, topped with a safe and a dictionary, was a teeny weenie  field mouse. My daughter had chased it around the room and had trapped George.
      While in my pj's and bare feet, I carefully lifted the 'trap' and carried it outside. I walked down the gravel road a ways and tossed George on a slippery slope. Upon the moonlit snow, I saw George ease on down the road .
       The bad news is, apparently George invited his buddies for a sleepover in my daughters' bedrooms. While they were dressing for school, I heard both shriek at the sight of a couple of other mice. I'll probably have a sleepover in my own room tonight.

One More

Farther Reaching

I was in the middle of cooking dinner last night when I saw the sun setting upon Rich Mountain. I really wanted you to be able to see it, but knew my 200mm lens just couldn't reach that far. I remembered that I had an old 500mm reflective lens tucked away in a closet. So dinner be damned! I ran to get the lens and see if it would make a decent image. I mounted it on a tripod and hoped for the best. I knew that the image would be softly focused as the lens is just that way. In the end, I liked two of the images (I'll post the other tomorrow)  because they have an oil painting effect and the contrast is low. Dinner was salvaged with no complaints from the girls.

When bored during a blizzard...

..set up a tripod in the living room and turn on the deck light and see if you can capture the dance of the snowflakes. Last night's storm didn't produce a whole lot of snow, but what fell barely had a chance to fall on the ground because of the 45-70mph gusts. Our house groaned and shook under the pressure--It was all quite disconcerting . Well, at least one good thing came from the storm. The old grill that dearest husband promised to cart off to the dump months ago, is now off the deck landing and rests in the middle of our front yard. Hey, I celebrate all small victories.