This is a photo of a crack that appeared on a frozen lake in Russia.
It was taken by a photographer named Alexey Trofimov.
Here’s a link that tells a little bit about the photo and the lake where the photograph was made.
This is an amazing photo.
It looks as though the world has split in two.
The thing that really hit me, reading the article and looking at the pictures that accompanied the article, was how much the other pictures looked like “a lake that froze”.
They’re kind of cool.
I like frozen lakes.
They are cool….(cold !)…but the other pictures looked like a lot of other frozen lakes that I’ve walked on or driven by.
They don’t look all that special.
Again…it’s all perspective.
Perspective, perspective, perspective.
Knowing that it’s all perspective doesn’t make me understand how to see the world the way I need to.
I still go off on misplaced tangents….yelling about something that I think is important, railing at the world when something seems to be wrong.
Maybe I think that my world is cracking in two….until I back up enough to remember that it’s really just another frozen lake?
Awwwww….what does it really matter?
This is a very cool picture….and like most cool visual things, it’s just a little “tweak” away from being kind of “normal”.
It’s normal vision combined with luck and open eyes and some very active looking.
What art isn’t just a little tweak, anyway?
What artist doesn’t try to see the world a little bit differently?
What are we missing….hurrying around and accepting at face value what we think “is”?
The previous night, we watched one of “Jenny’s” movies.
I act like it’s a big sacrifice to watch one of “Jenny’s movies”.
I don’t know what that does for me….acting like I’m making a sacrifice watching one of these movies. Maybe that’s “just how I roll”?
Anyway, usually they’re some kind of period drama….with manners and fancy old-looking outfits….and a fully realized storyline.
My movies are loud and brash….with people getting trapped in things and fast cars that blow up or jump off of high places.
My movies are an adrenaline pumping rush!!!
The funny thing is, I usually fall asleep during my adrenaline fests….but I sit in rapt attention for almost all of “Jenny’s movies”.
It’s something about the character development….or the scenery….or the sometimes quiet pacing.
Man.
I’m a sucker for the chick flicks.
I SIT FOR THE CHICK FLICKS!
Gads.
I must be a chick.
Holy Smokes.
Nah….I’m no chick.
IMADUDE.
IAMADUDE.
Everything was destroyed in the movie that I picked out for last night….and, at the end of the movie, when Carla Gugino asked the Rock, “What now?” (spoiler)….and he said, “We rebuild”…..( “We rebuild”!!) ….I felt like I’d gotten my money’s worth.
It was going to be alright.
San Francisco would rise from the rubble…..the Rock would rebuild.
“San Andreas” was what I expected it to be….and I stayed awake (!!) for the whole movie.
“Far from the Madding Crowd” was a great film….and a story that I’m still thinking about.
As much as I pretend to be some weird cinematic martyr when we watch those quiet films that Jenny picks out, I think that she knows the real score.
I love a movie about real people….doing things at “real people speed”….who do “real people things” that are… really interesting.
It’s great to “save the world”….but “real” ….really captures my imagination and attention.
Jenny’s got me pegged.
I DIG THESE “CHICK FLICKS”!!
At least the ones where they wear all these old clothes.
I realized last night that I’ve never had a really satisfactory experience at an “Indian hotel” in the United States.
“Satisfactory” is kind of a broad term….maybe I should say comfortably familiar and consistently pleasant?
(We watched “Far From the Madding Crowd”….and this was one of the trailers the dvd player showed us before our movie started. That’s what made me think of this stuff.)
I have had some hilarious experiences…some bizarre experiences…..but never one that I could call on and hold up as an example of something that I really enjoyed….or that I’d repeat if I knew better to avoid it.
THAT’S RACIAL!!! THAT’S RACIAL!!!
Nahhhhh….not really.
Wellllll….maybe.
That’s crummy.
Maybe that IS a”racially charged” comment?
I should be ashamed.
It’s just that these movies make it (staying at an “Indian hotel”) look so fun.
This one even has dance numbers like the ones in the Bollywood movies.
This hotel looks cool.
None of the motels that I stayed at were cool.
I’ve stayed at ones that had weird overhead crawlspaces….where the door couldn’t be completely opened because of the placement of the bed….where I checked in late enough that I could see where the yogurt for the next morning’s complimentary buffet was stored….where they reused the previous days coffee just to save money.
I’ve stayed at motels where the owner fixed our room’s ant problem by spraying our floor down with ant spray….while we watched.
Maybe I should rephrase the way I’m presenting the situation.
What I should say is that many of the strange places we’ve stayed at had Indian proprietors.
They were weird motels…that Indian people happened to be running.
And, it was my fault, too…looking for the elusive “cheap bargain” (there is no such thing as a “cheap bargain”….you get what you pay for….usually).
I guess that what I’m wondering is if I have to go to India to have a really fun experience staying at an “Indian hotel”?
Where do I go to see the dancers entertain like they apparently do in this movie?
Probably one of the nicer hotels….that happen to be run by people of Indian descent.
Maybe….this?
THAT’S RACIAL !!
THAT’S RACIAL !!
THAT’S RACIAL !!
THAT’S NOT EVEN A “HOTEL” !!
THAT’S A TIPI !!
NO ONE DANCES AROUND A TIPI !!
That’s so racial.
.
Or….this one?
THAT’S SO RACIAL !!
THERE ARE NO VIKING HOTELS !!
THAT IS SO RACIAL !!
Racial.
RACIAL, RACIAL, RACIAL, RACIAL.
“RACIAL” IS SO FAR FROM POLITICAL CORRECTNESS THAT I CAN’T BELIEVE IT.
I CANNOT BELIEVE IT.
I need some sensitivity training.
I need to find a place where I can drink some more day old coffee and sweep the ants under the bed….and then try and close the door….and learn to love it…and ignore whether the people running the joint are Indian people.
And then join the line of dancers making it fun for all involved.
Anyway….not all of the crummy places I’ve stayed have been run by Indian people.
It’s not fair to say that the weirdest places are run by Indian people.
I need to stay at nicer motels.
And I need to avoid generalizations about ethnic makeup and weird motel experiences.
I dreamed we were in the middle of a titanically huge ice storm last night.
The ice was pouring from the sky….liquid ice sticking to the trees and powerlines….sticking to the lawn and bushes and cars….sticking….sticking.
Then the power went out and I was looking in the backroom for the lanterns and flashlights…..turning on my headlamp….trying to get ready for a long chunk of darkness…..and the rainy ice started to come down even harder on the metal roof.
In the middle of all this, I was wondering if I should start a fire in the woodstove.
It was kind of confusing because, just moments before, it had been really nice outside.
It had been “like the middle of summer” nice.
No one in my family was scared….just a little confused.
It’s strange when weather changes like that.
Then I woke up and the weather was just as it had been….warm and easy.
We had a big mail day yesterday after the holiday…and today looks just as heavy.
Sometimes the load is big because you have to catch up to finish cleaning up the first big chunk.
But….the weather is supposed to be (according to the weather lady) a “perfect Fall day”.
So….it should be OK.
I shouldn’t try to forecast anything….you never know what’s going to happen…but I think that it’s going to be a good day.
If he had a chance to see this one, I suppose that he might say, “uffda”.
Uffda is a Scandinavian word that means something like “uh-oh”….or “oops”….or “shucks” or “oh, no!!” or…..
Words that cover a lot of ground are good ones to have in your vocabulary.
This guy figured out a way to get the whole box up to his backyard…..with a complex system of wheels and pulleys, I suppose.
How about that?
And, when he gets it up to his backyard, he uses it to make poplar shingles for his shed that he’s building.
Poplar.
Shingles.
Uffda.
And if you’re really going to launch yourself into the world of lumber production, why not dress the part?
Barefoot….with no hearing protection….shorts….
What could happen?
Maybe nothing would happen.
Barefoot.
Uffda.
This looks like it could be sort of cool to have one of these….and I bet that it would probably work pretty good, too…but, like a lot of Harbor Freight stuff that I own, I suspect that there’s nicer tools out there if you’re willing to spend more money.
That’s genius, huh?
“Spend more money….and you’ll get something nicer than the Harbor Freight stuff.”
Genius.
Uffda.
There are a kazillion videos on Facebook about bandsaw mills….homemade or store-bought.
Lot’s of folks cutting up those trees.
Check out this one….
It’s fun to see how people figure out how to do stuff.
I found a railroad spike on the route yesterday…..surprisingly, right on the little hill that I go up to cross over the….railroad tracks.
It was right next to the tracks!!
A spike!!
I thought that I better stop and pick it up before it pops somebody’s tire.
Looking back, it was my next thought that was the weird one.
I thought, “Man….if there’s one loose spike laying by the tracks….then surely there must be more! I’ll bet that if I walked these tracks, I’d find more of these spikes….and soon I’d be able to build a big spike collection and would probably be able to find a place to display my collection….and ….that would be kind of cool.”
Of course, my thought wasn’t that fully formed when I had it.
I multi-task….but not so clearly as that.
It’s always more of an impression than a fully formed thought.
My thoughts are a breeze….not a hurricane.
I’m a mailman…I can’t afford to let my mind wander so ….lucidly.
But….what is it in me that when I find a spike, my immediate reaction is to wonder if I couldn’t find a whole lot more spikes with just a little industry?
What do I need with a bunch of railroad spikes?
I wonder if it’s just an excuse to walk the tracks?
Nobody else uses them…no trains ever pass….and the tops of the tracks are covered with rust.
It would be a safe place to walk….if I didn’t run into any BAD HOBOES.
I don’t need a bunch of spikes…but it’s cool knowing that they’re possibly out there for the picking.
Sparrow got up with me this morning….early.
I had to use the “potty”….and Jenny said that Sparrow would probably follow me in and then want to run back to the bedroom.
It’s a blessing that me going to the potty isn’t all that fascinating….because, sure enough, when I sat down to start my ritual, she turned around and went back to the bedroom….and when that didn’t work out for her, we started to watch some Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood….when I was done in the bathroom.
Daniel Tiger is a lot more entertaining than Daddy going to the potty.
It’s raining here…and we need an activity for the day with all the kids back with us.
Maybe we could walk the tracks and find more spikes!!
And I could explain, before we started walking……”THOSE SPIKES ARE DADDY’S.”
(I need more spikes….I know that now that I’ve found one…)
“day in the life of a railroad spike” Balsam Ridge
