Cameras I have known and loved

April 3, 2019 - Wednesday

21 degrees/clear skies/windy

Pentoga Road

I think I'll start a new art exhibit and simply feature the cameras I've gone through during the past ten years. The bottom one was the last I had while still in Alaska. The top camera, the green model, has been my latest.

I've found that when one exposes these "tough" (water and shock proof) cameras to everyday elements and continual use, their average lifespan seems to be approximately two to three years. A normal pocket camera lasts me a few months or less.

It's the price one pays when he records his life in words and pictures.

Which begs the question of why do I do this?

I think it's habit more than anything. I've done it for so long that I don't know any alternative. Though I like people, I'm a private person. Mark, Jambo, or even Sargie, will tell you I tend to be a loner. 

After spending weeks, sometimes months, in the arctic without seeing another human, I'm very comfortable with my own company. I don't participate in Face Book or Instagram, Snap Chat, or any of those other social media things, and unless I know the person and/or number, I won't even answer the phone. 

But I take pictures and write for the world to see. 

Oh well, there's no rhyme nor reason. If they have any interest, at least the grandbabies will have something to read many years from now, long after their grandpa's dead and buried.

So, anyway, the good news is that Sargie purchased an insurance policy for the present camera when she initially bought it. We contacted the company a couple of days ago and have been approved for a reimbursement with which to purchase a new one. The green Fuji XP will be packed and sent away later today. Meanwhile, I'll limp by with the old yellow one. The quality of pictures may be less than stellar, but it's better than nothing.

Holy cow, what's this white stuff sitting on the deck?

A cold front came marching through last night with high winds, rain, snow, thunder, and lightening. In its wake, it left snow. Thankfully, today's high is to be in the forties and sunny. Bare ground should be poking through once again in a few hours.

Tuesday's stint spent with the Bob Kitties about wore ol' Mr. P out. I don't know if it was the phase of the moon, the alignment of the planets, or old age on my part, but this grandpa was dragging by day's end.

The older elementary classes were really good, fourth, fifth, and sixth grades.

The day began with fifth graders who were near perfect in every way, so much so that I hated to see them leave.

... but those in pre-K through third grades weren't nearly as calm. I'm fearful a few of the youngest ones saw their normally happy and jovial Mr. P in a different light than ever before. They simply didn't want to sit, be quiet, or get to work.

Pardon my raw use of the word, but chasing a dozen farts across a hot greased skillet comes to mind.

At one point, after bending over a little one's shoulder while trying to log her onto a computer, I stood up and said, "THAT'S IT!"

A possessed Linda Blair didn't have as scary a face as I must have had. I'm fairly certain my head turned around eight or ten times and it was only with great constraint that pea soup didn't spew from my mouth.

The three-foot tall bob kitties were frozen in place.

YOU SIT DOWN
YOU CLOSE YOUR MOUTH
YOU LEAVE YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELF
YOU... YOU'RE  A BIG BOY, WIPE YOUR OWN NOSE
and you, whatever your name is... FOR THE UMPTEENTH TIME, MY NAME IS NOT TEACHER.

I half expected Principal Neil to come in and perform an exorcism at any moment. Thankfully, that wasn't necessary.

The rest of the class time was quiet and orderly and evidently, most still had their self esteem intact as I got the usual leg hugs while the mini munchkins filed past, out of the room.

I was going to go for my usual walk last night after school, but decided a nice ride with Sargie to town would be better. We bought a few groceries, grabbed her Coke, and took our time coming back home.

Sargie closes tonight. I'll go for my walk later on then will probably spend the rest of the day in the shop. I fear it's too cold and windy to work on the garden house and I'm feeling particularly delicate. 

Even so, it appears to be a busy day ahead.

After all, a man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Testing the old camera last night. Hmm, maybe I'll try to avoid any nighttime shots.