Tag Archives: photography

Dusk: Day 3 – B&W Photo Challenge

Yesterday, I finally managed to nip down to the beach just before the sun had disappeared entirely, and the golden sand had descended into complete darkness. I know my mantra is carpe diem seize the day, but thanks to a weird sleep virus which has exacerbated my night owl tendencies, I am carpe nightum (or however you put that in proper Latin).

So, in my defence, I say: “At least, I walked the dog. At least, I did get to the beach and while it doesn’t need to be quite so dark to avoid the risk of skin cancer, it is a more sensible option than cooking myself under the midday sun.

Jogger Ocean Beach

Colour.

Our beach isn’t overly crowded outside the peak Christmas – New Year holiday period. So, heading into evening in November, there were only a couple of dog walkers stretching over quite an expand of beach. There was a soft lapping of something which could hardly be called waves against the shore and it would’ve been quite relaxing and melodic if I hadn’t been trying to get my B & W image when I’d clearly left my run too late. The magic hour had set.

Of course, Lady didn’t care. She was nose down sniffing and I kept a cursory glance out to make sure she didn’t opt for a swim at dusk without adequate time to dry off. She has quite a thick coat and is definitely NOT “quick dry”.

Anyway, it’s time to pass on the mantle for the next person to pick up the Seven Day Black & White Photo Challenge. Today, I’m handing over to  Geoff Le Pard who enjoys a good walk around London and might as well take his camera with him.

Best wishes,

xx Rowena

Magpie On the Cross: Day 4, Seven Day B&W Photo Challenge.

This photo was taken on a day trip to Wollombi, NSW where my Great Great Grandfather married his second wife, Jane Lynch in the very quaint stone Catholic Church.

Wandering through the historic cemetery, I was struck by this momentary fusion of elements…a magpie perched on a cross, a historic headstone.

Being Spring, I had to be careful taking this shot, as I’d already been warned about swooping magpies and I wasn’t one to argue with that. Well, that’unless a resonating image was up for grabs.

A magpie doesn’t tell quite the same story, as spotting a crow in a graveyard and yet it’s presence resonates and feels a bit forboding. As it would be, I guess, if I were a small bird.

Today, I’d like to ask Irene Waters from Reflections & Nightmares if she’d like to take up the challenge.

xx Rowena

Not A Very Willing Santa Pup!

This afternoon, I pulled out my camera, donned my elf outfit and dressed the pups up in their Christmas outfits. I  never take a snap just for the hell of it. So, I should’ve known it was going to take more than spontaneous enthusiasm, to pull off this quasi professional photo shoot.

No doubt, you’ve also seen those uber cute dogs in Christmas catalogues. You know, the ones with huge, puppy dog eyes dressed up as Santa, elves, reindeer and Christmas trees. Don’t they just make your heart melt? Melt enough to buy your unsuspecting dog an entire new wardrobe.

Well, I’ll blame my daughter for falling victim this year… and the pups.

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The Micro Pups Last Week.

Besides, who wouldn’t be tempted to dress up two, six week old pups, especially in identical outfits? Well, I would’ve done the matching outfits,if only the store had delivered. As it was, we had a Santa and an elf. In addition to the micro pups, we also have our older pups to dress up in the Christmas spirit.  While they’ve grown up very quickly, they’re still only 4 months old and this will be their first Christmas. So, who wouldn’t want to do something special?!! The shop didn’t have their size and so we bought a Santa hat for them and a Christmas Tree outfit for Lady, who could well be an XL. Of course, she blames that on the fur coat, but we know better!

Such are the best laid plans of mice, men and me. As we rushed through the door with our grandiose plans, no one had briefed any of the pups, and they weren’t convinced. If they can it eat it…If they can chew it….If they can chase it…They’re in. “Wearing”…Now, that’s another story, and they made it quite clear, THAT wasn’t part of their contract!

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Our lack of planning didn’t help. We burst through the front door and before developing any plan of attack, our daughter was trying to guide little Dobbie’s paw through the leg of the Santa suit and it wasn’t going on. Getting stuck on claws and being too narrow for even his skinny puppy legs, it was a beast to put on Dobbie was NOT amused!! Needless to say, that was a fail.

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Zac, our 4 month old Border Collie X was next up. He was wearing a pseudo-luxurious Santa hat, which was attached via an elastic band. The elastic is a critical element of the hat’s design, as you’ll see from the photographic evidence. Well, he was wearing the hat for a few seconds. A very smart and innovative dog with a real gift for turning anything in into a chew toy or something to chase, he sat there shaking his head watching the white pom pom swinging backwards and forwards and trying snap at it with all his might.

Rosie Claws

This thrill didn’t last long as his sister, Rosie, soon stepped in and snapped hold of the hat. Santa’s hat was a red rag to a pair of voracious jaws, and it disappeared out into the backyard. Their latest prize.

Yoda Elf

Meanwhile, I managed to get Yoda into his elf suit without too much difficulty, and put him on top of the green wheelie bin…my makeshift studio. With the backyard looking like a moonscape scattered with chewed up detritis, the bin lid almost looked glamorous by comparison. These shots weren’t there yet, but showed potential.

Obviously, I need to be more “strategic”, and have now put this one down to “practice”.

Next time, I’ll stick to the Scotto motto and “Be Prepared”.

How have you gone photographing pets in costumes? Any success? Any tips? I’d love to hear from you!

xx Rowena

PS I should mention that the pups were under close supervision wearing these costumes. It doesn’t take much for puppy mischief to become tragic.

 

 

7 Day B&W Photo Challenge – Day 1 Sheep Dogs.

Yesterday, I received a Facebook notification that a friend had dobbed me in for the 7 Day Black & White Photo Challenge, and so I thought I’d carry it over onto the blog.

I’ve been a bit quiet on the blog lately, so I have a backlog of words to spew out and I’ll tap away furiously with the hope of getting to bed some time before dawn. Somehow, my hours have been inverted while battling the flu and night has now become day.

While conjuring up ideas for the challenge, rather than taking black & white photos of colour, I found myself wanting to photograph things that are black & white. Indeed, my mind even wandered off tinto the realm of  black and white thinking.

Fortunately, I have black & white pups. Not the micro pups. They’re tan and black kelpies. Zac and Rosie, our Border Collie X pups were just perfect and they even obliged by staging a tug of war over a stuffed toy sheep my mother bought them yesterday. They are SHEEPdogs after all!

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As you can see, little Dobbie on the right, is putting up quite a fight and almost keeping up with the bigger pups. 

Well, not wanting to be left out, Dobbie the smallest of the micro pups but the mightiest of the lot, took on Zac and Rosie and even made off with the sheep a few times. He sure is fiesty and if he ever gets a chance to become a true working dog, those real sheep had better watch out! Dobbie means business!

Anyway, like all these challenges, you need to nominate somebody to carry on the mantle. Today, I’m going to nominate Monika from Tails Around the Ranch. Monika writes a fantastic blog focused on the antics of her two standard poodles Sam and Elsa.

xx Rowena

A Walking Tour of Wollombi, Australia.

Welcome to Wollombi, NSW.

After what turned out to be a very convoluted route, which my husband has called “driving to Wollombi via Darwin”, the little red car and I pulled into Wollombi and I did the rest on foot.

In case you haven’t read the  preamble, I’d driven to Wollombi to see historic St Michael’s Church of the Archangel, and also to steep myself in Wollombi’s historic ambiance. It was no exaggeration to say that arriving in Wollombi, felt like stepping out of a time capsule into the 19th Century and I loved that. Love, loved, loved it. It’s so good that some places have in a sense been by-passed, fallen asleep and been spared from the crappinization process. That’s what we loved about so much of Tasmania and it was great to find that so close to home.

Obviously, Wollombi  isn’t a huge metropolis. So, you won’t be surprised that I spotted the Church straight away, but it did feel a bit funny to actually see it in person for the first time, and it was much smaller than expected. Wondered how you could fit both sides of a good Catholic family inside back in the days before TV. I guess they were probably used to squishing in.

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On 1st April, 1891, my Great Great Grandfather, William Henry Gardiner, married his second wife, Jane Ann Lynch from Glendon Grove, Wollombi at St Michael’s. This press excerpt provides a great impression of their special day and I can just hear those bells ringing out:

“On Tuesday last our little town, usually so dull and quiet, was the scene of much excitement, and that eventful day will long be remembered as a red-letter day in the annals of our history. At the early hour of eight o’clock the tolling of the bell at St. Michael’s Church announced that some ceremonies of a very rare occurrence were about to take place there, and immediately crowds of spectators could be seen wending their way to it. Half an hour later two brides (sisters), the Misses Lynch, of Glendon Grove, were standing before the hymeneal altar in the above-mentioned place. The elder, Miss Jane Lynch, who for some years has been residing near West Maitland, was united in the bonds of matrimony to Mr. William Gardiner, a resident of West Maitland, and afterwards her sister, Miss Agnes Lynch, was joined to Mr. Joseph Tripp, of Aberdeen. Each was assisted by two bridesmaids, the former by her sister and niece, Miss Teresa Lynch and Miss Bourke, and the latter by Míss Tripp and Miss Katie Bourke. The Rev. Father Flanagan, who came here the previous evening from Cessnock, performed both ceremonies, and afterwards celebrated Mass, during which the choir, of which Miss Agnes Lynch was a prominent and efficient member, sang some beautiful selections, and as the long procession was leaving the church, Miss M. Kenny played the Wedding March with great effect. On the previous evening the ladies of the Altar Society, as a last tribute of respect to one of their members, decorated with artistic skill the church and altar the walls being hung with magnificent wreaths and festoons. At ten o’clock a start was made for the brides’ residence, and as tho long train o£ buggies passed through the streets the firing of guns and ringing of bells could be heard in every direction.” Tuesday 7th April 1891The Maitland Advertiser & Hunter River Advertiser pg 7.

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The Forge, Wollombi.

Next to the Church, I spotted an intriguing looking building called: “The Forge” and I couldn’t quite make out whether it was a home or a shop. There was a mannequin tied up to a telegraph pole out the front and I’m not sure whether she was waiting for a bus, a ghost or an alien landing, but she’d definitely been heading somewhere before she’d been detained. Macca, the Proprietor, invited me in, even though it was closed and let me take photos, which I really appreciated as this place really felt like home to me. Perhaps, I should be concerned about that, and book myself in with a shrink. However, I love maccabre and I love how random objects can be thrown together in a space, creating a licorice allsorts of possibilities in my head. It also reminded me of exploring under both my grandparents’ houses where things weren’t thrown out, but simply “retired’. What gave this place the edge over your garden-variety vintage store, was Macca’s artworks peering out inbetween old dolls and vintage mannekins a few Sunbeam Mixmasters, books and salvaged farm equipment. He’d also arranged things in intriguing combinations, which ranged from maccabre to down right hilarious.

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Naturally, this place which seemed like a kind of “Mecca to Displaced Euphemora”, deserves its own post and so I’ll be back with more photos.

Meanwhile, I’m heading off to the cemetery. William Henry Gardiner wasn’t buried here, but Jane Lynch’s family is well-represented. I love exploring and photographing old cemeteries like this, especially capturing haunting  shadows lurking on tombstones and the like. They get you thinking.

Anyway, I was delighted to spot this magpie sitting on top of a Celtic Cross, especially when it didn’t dive bomb me as I approached. It’s Spring here, and I’d already been warned about a dive-bombing magpie earlier on the trip and was on guard. I know I often overinflate the dangers of Australian wildlife, but these swopping magpies are beyond a joke.

I walked back to the car via the grocery store and old courthouse.

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By now, it was approaching 5.00PM and impending darkness. It was a windy drive home through Wombat country and I needed to be alert. I was also concerned about having a possible encouter with a kangaroo. They come out and feed on dusk, and let’s just say they’re best avoided.

However, I popped into the local pub for an apple juice and toilet stop before leaving. I very rarely go into pubs and they’re not my scene. However, I really loved the country feel of this one, which felt very authentic and real. Names had been carved into the tables outside. Farm utes were parked out the front. I felt surprisingly relaxed and would’ve loved to stay for a yarn.

I am already planning my next trip and am even looking into camping there with friends. However, next time, no detours. It’s just a 70 minute drive “up the road”.

xx Rowena

 

Our Father’s Day!

Happy Fathers’ Day!

While I’m tempted to philosophise about what it means to be a Dad, I think I’d better stick with what I know and focus on what it means to be a daughter and my observations of my husband. Of course, it’s very easy to hop up on the soap box when I’m in my own blog bubble on my laptop and my husband’s watching a very strange movie, Tropic Thunder, which seems worse than any Dad joke. However, even now, there’ s that caution and thank goodness for that.

Unfortunately, I didn’t see my Dad for Father’s Day today, and by the time we managed to call, he was already in bed. We’ve put our celebrations off until we’re all feeling better. However, Mum said that he was up early to play golf this morning and quite frankly Fathers’ Day should also be about Dad doing what he wants to do, because even though my Dad’s retired, he still has responsibilities.

“To a father growing old nothing is dearer than a daughter.”

Euripides

My Dad has always been my rock… stable, reliable, always there for me. Most of my life, I’ve been anything but a rock…the social butterfly, the panic merchant, the deep thinker who could easily fly off the deep end. Whenever life got tough and I’d start to complain, Dad would tell me “this’ll put hairs on your chest” or he’d quote our then Prime Minister, Malcolm Fraser: “Life isn’t meant to be easy”. We had a family whistle, which I later found out Dad had inherited from his own father. If we were lost, he’d whistle out to us and it was such a relief. I also remember being small and looking right up over the top of the crowd to find Dad. Not quite a tall as Roald Dahl or the BFG, Dad was noticeably taller in a crowd. Speaking of being tall, Dad also looked like John Cleese back in the day and I didn’t understand why people made such a joke of the Nudge ad on TV: “Nudge, nudge, wink, wink, say no more”. Dad buried my dead goldfish and the dead tadpoles because I was too scared to go near them and how he encouraged me to drive out of my comfort zone. Whenever I was nervous about driving somewhere, he’d ask me if my licence prevented me from going there. Obviously not, so there was no reason I couldn’t do it. I also remember being terrified when notorious criminal William John Mundy escaped from gaol. I clearly remember checking the windows and being absolutely terrified and Dad said he’d protect me. I felt so safe. Dad was invincible. Back then, I really could believe father knew best and Dad was only a very small still away from being Superman.

Rowena & Geoff

I don’t know why we have to grow up. Or, at least go through that whole process where we realize our parents aren’t perfect and tend to focus on the gap, instead of being grateful for the abundance we have and the enormous, immeasurable sacrifices they’ve made.

Now, that I’m a parent even if I’m not a Dad, I can appreciate the enormity of the task. That being there 24/7 x 18 if not a lifetime is beyond huge. Of course, there’s love. Such love and delight in our kids, but so much worry, concern and just wanting to ease their path, understand who they are and try to see the world through their eyes instead of our own.

So, I’d like to thank my Dad for that. I’d like to thank my Dad for still being there for me and our family. Both Mum and Dad have helped us extensively through a very intense time with my health, especially when the kids were small and I was hospitalized for seven weeks. I still remember Dad’s reassurances at the start, and how they were running out of oomph by the end…”you coming home any time soon?” Having a 3.5 and 18 month year old left on your doorstep for so long without warning is just the sort of thing which “puts hair on your chest”. After all, it no matter how much we might love our little people, the heart might be willing, but the body can struggle to keep pace. My Mum and Dad have been truly amazing.

Rowena & Papa 1969

Look at those little eyes looking up at my grandfather for the very first time…you can feel the love between us. 

Fathers’ Day is not just an opportunity for me to remember my own Dad, but also my grandfathers. My Dad’s Dad was a real character…a dentist who used to buy soft drink by the crate every weekend (large family) and used to give us horsey bites under the dining room table in such a way that you’d bang your knee. He also did the coin behind the ear trick. I remember my grandparents travelling and my grandfather bringing me back a very stately-looking English dress which he’s bought on Bond Street, an apron from Amsterdam, Denis the Menace in French from Paris and even a giving me a precious taste of some dark chocolate he’d brought back from Italy. I also remember the last time I saw my grandfather before he died of cancer. He took his oxygen mask off, even though he was having a coughing fit, because he didn’t want to scare us. He held my hand and told me the importance of hands. He’d worked as a dentist and my grandmother was a concert pianist so hands had been very important to them. They had worked with their hands. Expressed themselves.

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I don’t remember anything about my grandfather’s father, known as “Pop”. Not unsurprisingly, he died before my time. However, Dad has a funny story about when he went away with pop to visit his aunt inter-state. Well, Pop handed my Dad a hip flask of Scotch. Dad was about 7 years old and he’s pretty sure Pop asked him to drink it. Well, later on, Pop asked Dad for it back. Apparently, he’d asked Dad to mind it and we get the feeling he was hiding his stash from Gran. He wasn’t very impressed when Dad had tried the stuff. Indeed, although he hated the taste and it would’ve been pretty rough for a young kid, he thought he’d better do his best. I found out in recent years, that Pop had lost his eye in a childhood accident in the family foundry and stove-making business. I admire his tenacity, because most of the family didn’t know about it. He ust got on with it.

Father’s Day is rather mixed for my husband. While he’s been celebrating being a Dad himself for the last 13 years, his own father passed away when Geoff was 16 so many years ago now and his funeral was a week before Father’s Day. That’s like a double-dose of tough but then shifting gears and celebrating the present. Well, to be honest, parenting is more about ups and downs and loving your kids through the entire spectrum of experience.

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Our son courageously cooking bacon this morning and dodging spitting fat. 

Anyway, our Father’s Day began with bacon and eggs. Our son has become quite the bacon cook around here and our daughter made the eggs. I made the coffee. Then, we were off to Church where they’d set up a photo booth in front of a vintage black Mercedes and we had our photos taken. They also provided meat pies for the dad…and the kids. Yet, they still felt hungry enough to have pancakes for lunch back home. I was an egg short and added a good shake of custard powder to produce some rather yellow-looking pancakes, which thankfully passed muster. My family is very fussy.

After lunch, the day went down hill…rapidly.

In a moment of deluded madness, I’d booked the carpet cleaner in for tomorrow…and the window cleaner as well. We’ve never had our carpets or windows professionally cleaned before, but I can get it as part of my disability support package. There was just a slight problem of finding the carpet in certain areas of the loungeroom and also needing to move furniture. Indeed, you could say that we’ve moved mountains this afternoon. So, much for Geoff relaxing on Father’s Day!! He was doing a lot of moving, shaking and sweeping.

I guess you could call that a father’s day.

Did you celebrate Fathers’ Day today? What did you get up to? Please share in the comments below.

xx Rowena

Puppies!

As you may recall, a close friend of mine volunteers for a pet rescue organization. Well, she messaged me during the week and mentioned they had PUPPIES!!! Of course, I invited us round for a playdate. Indeed, we were there in a flash and my husband even came along to supervise procedings. He had grave concerns about us arriving home with a pup! I wonder why????

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My daughter with one of the pups.

Coco and her sister, Daisy, are apparently black, curley-haired retrievers and are six weeks old. They are pure black, except Coco has a small splash of white on her chest. Both of them looked like miniature versions of our Border Collie x Cavalier, Lady, only they have shorter ears.

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The puppies up on the trampoline with the girls.

Not surprisingly, these pups were irresistable, and it’s amazing how I can find them trying to chew up my shoes and even my good jumper endearing. Of course, there was that typical Australian; “she’ll be right, mate” nonchalence, but they were so cute that I almost couldn’t care. I even let them chew on my finger.

We will be getting a second dog in the not to distant future. Indeed, my friend has told me there are some border collie puppies coming up and I’m thinking about joining up as a volunteer and hosting these. See if one of them clicks. So far, I haven’t been seriously tempted by any of my friend’s lodgers. They’ve been wonderful dogs but I still feel lie we’re hanging out for another Border Collie pup.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the pics.

xx Rowena