Things

As you might have noticed, I love to take pictures. If it isn't people I know and love, and if it isn't flora or fauna, I even take pictures of things. I'll take a picture of pretty much anything. For example: This image was on the top of a flyer distributed a few years ago advertising the Monterey Rubber Chicken Poetry Slam and Open Mic, which my daughter co-hosted at the time. The chicken was drawn by her friend, Bridgette, a great cartoonist. (Yes, the winner received a rubber chicken.)





Some things I photograph are more aesthetically pleasing - at least to me. This is the underside of the gazebo roof at Leaming's Run Gardens.





And then, there are signs. I seem to take pictures of a lot of signs.


Many things related to Cape May of course.

The Parkway sign, the Concrete Ship, the sign welcoming visitors to the park.






Not all signs are quite so welcoming. And I'm definitely not the only one who photographs signs. My daughter took this one in Hungary, protesting McDonald's proposing to put the Golden Arches in their quaint little town.

I don't blame them. Have you ever tasted the out-of-this-world version of a hamburger you can buy in a kiosk in Eastern Europe? Who would want Mickey D's after eating one of those? And who would want the arches spoiling the beauty of one of their quaint little towns?



Here's another sign I love. It's in front of my favorite garden stand.



And then, there's another kind of sign entirely.



Another daughter's doing.



I have to include one more, because it's one of my favorites. It's in Pacific Grove, CA.



I take pictures of BIG things, to send to my three year old grandson. I like to send him an email once in a while.







And sometimes, I take pictures of very small things. This may be considered flora I guess, but it's my blog and I'll include it if I want to!


There's one more picture I love because it's of a basket of shells I keep near the front door. They remind me of a very pleasant day spent on the beach. Every one of these shells was collected on that same day. We had had a storm the day before, and hundreds of shells were washed up. I love sea shells.




And I think I'd better close now. I could play with my pictures all day. I never seem to get tired of them. But if my readers came here anticipating an interesting story, I'm afraid they must be disappointed. It's just a long, quiet afternoon, and I'm playing a little.


Tomorrow is also a day. Maybe I'll do better then.