Cooperating with:

Sunday and Monday provided both rain and relief from hot temperatures.  Today, I’m sitting at the computer in our nice cool basement.  Plenty of light here in the walk-our end and it is comfortable!  I’m feeling like a genius for having moved the computers from the hot very hot upstairs. 😀

Best of all the electricity bill is not going to double during the summer months like it did last year.  If we run the AC, the extra energy usage puts us into a double-rate situation.  No thanks.  I’ll open the windows from evening until morning and spend most of my day here in the cool.

What do you do to deal with the heat?  The local newspaper had an online poll today in which they asked folks what they did to beat the heat.  I saw that this morning and the next item that I saw was Lin’s blog post, “It’s too hot to blog.”  Now, I’m sitting here drinking a steamy hot cup of Guatemalan coffee.  Mmmm, good! 😉

My father passed a couple of decades ago.  I remember him today and wish I could share a cup of coffee and some conversation with him.

Today, I’ll also be thinking about our two sons.  They make me proud of them and blessed to be their father.  Men of integrity will do that.

If you are like most of us amateur photographers, you use the automatic settings on your camera.  My first full-time job was as a TV cameraman.  I enjoyed it, but when the opportunity came to move into engineering I went for that and the better pay check that it brought.  In those days, I used manual settings on my still shots.  (I didn’t really have a choice, but I would have chosen to set aperture and shutter manually if I’d had the choice.)

Today’s digital cameras are very sophisticated.  Even the inexpensive models have sophisticated technology.  The automatics work well in most situations.  Sylvia and I use a generation-old Panasonic that has optics by Leica.  Multiple modes allow us to adapt easily to existing conditions.

Still, it pays to be familiar with how your camera process a scene.  Let me share an example.  I’ve posted numerous sunset pictures on this blog over the last three and a half years.  Some of them have been very dramatic.  A large part of my success results from knowing what my camera will do.  Yes, it will show me on the screen, but how do I get it there.  (Don’t you love that instant feedback?  You don’t have to wait weeks to finish a roll of 35 mm film and then wait for processing.)

Let’s start with a wide-angle shot of a typical sunset.

It’s not very exciting, is it?  No clouds or haze to pickup colors for the wide shot.  Less than a minute later I took the next shot after zooming in on the sunset.

Whoa!  Where did all that color come from.  And that cloud . . .  It doesn’t even show up in the wide shot.  Pretty good, right?  Wait two minutes.  That’s all just two minutes and re-frame the picture slightly.

Just including less sky, made it appear darker.  The sun position in two minutes shifted enough to increase interest.  See how it seems to sit in a “socket” formed by the trees?

Bottom line: Patience and familiarity with your camera pays big dividends.  Shoot lots of shots.  Examine them closely and learn.  Please deleted second rate shots.  As a good friend once told me, “The main difference between a professional and an amateur is that the professional destroys his second-rate work.”

The three shots above are all as they came from the camera.  I did resize them for faster download.  I made no other alteration to these images.

The computers are in the basement and fully operational.  Thanks to Sylvia’s help, it went smoothly and relatively quickly. 😀

Wednesday morning, I sat at the computer visiting my favorite blogs and sipping on a cup of Guatemalan coffee.  From time to time a popup window would inform me of another link placed on my Wordless Wednesday post.  I picked up my coffee mug.  Empty. 🙁

Empty cup in hand, I started for the kitchen for a refill.  I almost made it.

That’s when I saw her standing on the front lawn.  I watched for a bit and then returned to the office for the camera.  She had been nibbling the nice green grass.  As I snapped a pic, something else had her attention.

We’ve seen several from this group at times over the last few weeks.  This was mid-morning and that was the middle of our expansive lawn.  (Yes, it takes a lot of work to mow all that.)  She had seen enough.  She turned.

She didn’t raise her tail to warn others.  It was a slow jog.  Not in fear.  Merely cautious.

Still at a jog she passed the garden, rounded the birch tree as she made her way to the bottom edge of the lawn.  Then with a bound.  She made into the tall grass, brush and trees.  Gone.

As I thought about the scene that I had just witnessed, the garage door opener activated.  Sylvia had returned home.

Sylvia came into the house and told me about the deer on the front lawn.  (She had watched it as she drove up the driveway.)  I showed Sylvia the pictures I had captured.  Our conversation then turned to other matters.

During out weekly telephone conversation last night, my son, Scott, told me about this fascinating new sport.  I can see this catching on with bored humans, probably not so much with cats, however.  Did you ever do anything like this with your pet?

Nearly six hours ago, I came to the office with the intention to write a blog post.  But first, I checked my e-mail inbox.  There were several items that required attention.  That done, it was time for breakfast.  After breakfast, I returned to the office and began to read my favorite online news sources.  Next, I visited my favorite blogs.  That took a while.

My coffee cup was empty.  I refilled my nearly constant companion and started listening to Return of the King by JRR Tolkien on audio book.  Now on autopilot, I started playing Spider Solitaire as I listened to the story.  My eyes soon wandered to the window on my left.  It needed some work, but I wasn’t sure that I could do it without Sylvia’s help.  I decided to try.  An extra pair of hands would have made the job easier, but with planning and a handy length of two by six, my two hands proved sufficient.  I turned my attention to the window on my right.  This went easier–much easier–than the first one.  In the midst of all that activity, I found time for a late lunch.

After lunch and having finished the two windows in the office, I turned my attention to six more windows.  These were soon done.

Ready for a rest, I sat at the computer and started writing this.  That was over two hours ago.  It seems that only a sentence or two gets written before my attention turns to this project or that.  Perhaps I should post this before . . .  Oh, I really should . . .

LeRoy Hutchinson 1919-1990

In keeping with this day, which is designated for remembering those who served in our nation’s military, on Saturday I rearranged the mantle in the family room.  There is a triangular box with a folded flag.  The flag remains that way since it was lifted from my father’s coffin, folded and presented to my mother “on behalf of a grateful nation.”  Dad was in the US Army Air Corp during WWII.  To the flag’s left, is a composite photo image of the retirement ceremonies for our son, Scott, who served over 21 years with the US Air Force.  Scott is a veteran of the first gulf war.  The figures of angels are also placed on the mantel.  To the flag’s right is the angel of remembrance.  Between the flag and the photo is the angel of thankfulness.  On the other side of the photo is the angel of prayer.

My paternal grandfather told a tale about an ancestor who was a colonial spy during the American Revolution.  Grandad didn’t know his name, and I have not been able to confirm this story.  This I do know: John Hutchinson (5th great grandfather), left his home in Vermont to fight under General Washington.  He died at Valley Forge.  My maternal grandmother is descended from a soldier who died in the Revolutionary War while defending a fort in New York State (he was from Pennsylvania).

There are others–many of them–who answered the call to arms.  Let us honor those whose sacrifice made the life we know and love possible.  To all veterans, we salute you.

Saturday morning after an early lunch, Sylvia and I drove to her father’s home–nearly an hour away.  She had prepared some food for him and when we arrived she put that food in the refrigerator.  We had time to chat with Dad before Paul and Joyce arrived.  After they came, the five of us got in their car and we began the two-hour drive to Cadillac for Ruth’s funeral.  We talked a little bit, but soon our speaking ceased as road noise and soft music from the radio marked our progress along the highway.

While looking out the window at my side, I saw an airplane approaching from the West.  Trailing behind was a wide contrail of white.

I shot this photo while standing in my driveway.

Unlike the photo image, the jet I saw on Saturday was at very high altitude and was flying almost straight at us.  Also the silvery strand that trailed behind merged into a single wide ribbon.  Both the plane and the contrail were bright against the blue sky.  At first, I had to watch intently to discern any movement.  It was almost as if there were a silver spear suspended in the western sky.

Ever so slowly the “spear” approached and as it came nearer, the apparent velocity increased.  Then it disappeared overhead and I could no longer see the airplane from my window seat.  The contrail remained, marking the passage of the jumbo jet.

It was as though I had been witness to a metaphor of life.  We see from afar and as distance shrinks, not only is the vision clearer but the progress is swifter.  Yet after passing the contrail remains.

As I considered this thought, the bright contrail was already dissipating.  Soon the white ribbon that had marked the path was gone–never to be seen again.  Yet I remember the passing of that mighty airframe, which bore passengers and cargo on the appointed route.

Ecclesiastes 9:14, 15

There was once a small city with only a few people in it. And a powerful king came against it, surrounded it and built huge siege works against it. Now there lived in that city a man poor but wise, and he saved the city by his wisdom. But nobody remembered that poor man.  (NIV)