Today I’m a guest writer at Carrie’s place, Views from Nature, while she is on a much needed vacation. Please, stop by over there to say ‘hi.”
I spent most of last week moving in slow motion. I had a routine medical procedure that took three days to prep, submit, and recover. It wasn’t drastic, or traumatic, just too freakin’ time consuming.
So, once the weekend arrived, I took full advantage of the gorgeous weather – sunshine, cool breezes, and fluffy clouds – and eagerly went on my semi-fortnightly* photo hike.
*Hubs tells me this means the same thing as ‘weekly’ – you can trust him, he’s a rocket scientist.
All photos taken at Fred Gannon/Rocky Bayou State Park in Niceville, Florida.
(Photos shot with a Nikon D60, using an 18-55mm, 55-200mm, 20mm f/2.8 wide-angle, 50mm f/1.8 prime lens, Nikon CoolPix S205 and/or iPhone4)
To see other city scenes from around the world, check out Unknown Mami’s Sundays in My City. Don’t forget to show the love to Mami and the other City contributors.
I give up… I might as well resign myself to the fact that the majority of my 365 photos will be taken with my iPhone. It’s easier to carry around (read: less conspicuous) and, while I do have my DSLR with me when I go out on errands, the smaller camera phone will always be my go-to for spur of the moment shots.
119 photos uploaded, 32% complete!
What does she do all day, just play on her laptop? I work like a dog and still have to putz around at home. “Hey, I cycled the laundry and fed the cats!”
Why does he do that? Do I announced every chore I finish? Maybe I should show him my list. I don’t get one or two jobs checked off and he thinks I’m lazy.
I hope mom and dad don’t ask me to do anything. Finally got settled in my chair and Po is all snug on my lap. Dang! I left my water in the kitchen.
The Trifextra Challenge for this weekend is to “…take a scene that involves (or affects) at least three people… (written) from the point of view of three of the characters, using 33 words for each character.”
Behind each closed door
On the other side
No key, no charmed words
Open the lock, turn the knob
Step through the threshold
Be quick, don’t tarry
The portal is transient
Crumble to dust, abandoned
Squandered all for naught
Haiku Friday is hosted by Lou at LouCeeL.
Is your inner light a tea candle or a blazing inferno?
Does it shine or smolder?
Warm and inviting, welcoming others to draw closer,
Or intense and overpowering, too hot to approach?
How does your internal flame burn?
You may remember me mentioning that I’m turning 50 this year. With great age, comes great responsibility. While I’m not quite old enough for AARP, at this advanced phase of my life I am expected to
submit participate in a list of various and sundry screenings and tests that in medieval times would be considered torture.
One such test will be conducted on Wednesday, and with the entirety of Tuesday set aside to prep for this test (I was actually told it would be better for me to stay close to home all day), I thought I’d bore you with the TMI details early. I’ll no doubt be sitting a lot on Tuesday, but I won’t want to carry my laptop with me into the reading room.
For this particular test, I’ve already had a baseline, so I know what to expect. Tuesday morning and evening I have to ingest a sodium/potassium/magnesium sulfate solution, along with as much clear liquids as I can tolerate, minimally a half-gallon of water each time. I can have broth, non-pulpy juice, peach or lemon jello, and Gatorade – as long as it’s not red, orange or purple. I’m also allowed coffee or tea, so I can at least have my daily dose of caffeine. Dairy and solid food is verboten.
The goal is to not retain any of the fluids, hence the recommendation to remain at home.
Wednesday I am undergoing my second colonoscopy, having had my first at age 45. The early baseline was done because I have a family history of colon cancer. Because I also have a family history of stomach cancer, and have been a smidge acid-refluxy lately, I’m getting a two-fer and doubling up with an endoscopy.
Due to the family history and my own medical issues, every burp and fluff since making the appointment has been suspect, and very good reasons why should have stayed away from the quackery of Dr. Google and WebMD. The worry gene I inherited from my grandmother and mother is working overtime.
I’m expected to arrive at the hospital for the outpatient procedure before the sun rises, hopefully flushed out and ready. An anesthesiologist will put me into twilight sleep (sans glittering vampires and hunky werewolves) and the doctor will snake my entire intestines for polyps and other tell-tale signs of the c-word, then change out gadgetry and do the same thing to my upper gastrointestinal tract. I should be clean as a whistle when all’s finished.
Since I’ll be groggy from the anesthesia, the Mister is driving me to and fro. The Boy, no doubt, won’t be awake until I’ve already been home a few hours. I plan to go to bed and sleep most of the remainder of the day. If I get bored I may try to surf the ‘net while under the influence, that has the potential to be either amusing or embarrassing… or both.