The Swamp May Claim My Body One Day…

Tags

Abstract, Animals, Birds, Black and White, Butterfly, Caterpillar, Damselfly, Florida, Hike, Humor, Insects, Merritt Island, Misadventure, Nature, Photography, Story, Sunset, Swamp, Video, Water, Wildlife, Writing

The Swamp may one day claim my body. This past weekend I was found sinking into the muck, yet again. I never mean to deviate out into those gurgling and gushing, reedy and thrillingly mucid marshlands but something always draws me in.

In this case, it was vultures…

A great cluster of black vultures descended right in the middle of the great sprawling mire below and I just had to go tumbling down after them.

They wheezed and grunted and hopped about in a frenzy as I sloshed near. Then in a great charcoal gust they fluttered up and adorned the palm trees above, their crinkled heads bent with sharp, bilge-water brown eyes studying me, looking like dark-frocked, feathered judges scowling down at me.

I sifted about looking for a corpse. To no avail. Disappointed, I continued on. I was soon slopping along in happy oblivion until the mire became a river and the reeds turned into mangrove trees; and even then I ventured further. A tiny gator slipped away and a flurry of silver bodies slapped the surface of the water as they swam away in a fast flash. Little black minnows danced in the golden, tea-stained waters bathed in warm sunset.

Suddenly I remembered that I do not live in the Swamp and that these ruddy parks always have a blasted time-limit. I turned and squished back toward the great sprawling knoll where the path was. I clambered and crawled up through an impenetrable green fog of knotted grass. A merry wind casually chucked vulture feathers, globs of yellow pollen, sticks and burrs into my wild, tangled mane as I clawed along like a blind bear.

At last I popped onto the trail, adorned in Swamp.

I was surprised when I heard a squeak pierce through the meditative hum of honey bees that I had just walked through as they danced from flower to flower at my muculent feet.

I began to concoct a haphazard smile, realizing the squeak had issued forth from a wide-eyed dog-walking lady that had been startled by my sudden appearance. I guess she had no idea someone had been crawling around in the somnolent mire below all this time. She rapidly gathered up her canine companion and shielded the small and thoroughly fascinated terrier from my ghoulish and slovenly sight. The pair darted away as I said with a stumble, becoming entangled in some gigantic weed I hadn’t noticed, “Lovely time for swamping, eh?!” She didn’t reply…I don’t think she heard me…

I immediately became distracted by the lake on the opposite side and soon found myself in the water, yet again, joyfully fiddling with the camera. Time was forgotten yet again as the sun was swiftly hoovered away and squeezed to rust. The phone deep in my pack tootled but I couldn’t be bothered with attempting to dig it out, so I continued to film as I slowly made my way back.

Then I heard a great booming cry warble across the glimmering waters glazed in purple dusk, “PARK CLOSING!”

It seemed to be coming from a tiny dancing dot on the shore across the way…where the park entrance was…

Oh dear…THE TIME!

I tried to assure the little black dot (that was an irate ranger) that I was hurrying as I called out, “I AM COMING! DON’T WORRY! BE RIGHT THERE!”

He was miles away…well, perhaps just one mile.

I wasn’t very near and the wind was probably erasing my calls, so I gesticulated wildly in order to encourage the ranger that I was hurrying. He continued to hop up and down.

Then I started splashing back as quickly as possible.

And then I crouched down in the water to film a rock.

“PARK CLOSING!!!!! PARK CLOSING RIGHT NOW!!!” came a very jarring, caterwauling cry.

I decided I should put the camera away…this was a very difficult chore as my arms suddenly weighed about 18,000 lbs.

I managed to make it back and even avoided being pounded by the red-faced, snowy-mustached ranger as he crammed me into the car and Sir rapidly peeled away (well, rapidly for a tortoise, that is, as Sir is a very sedate, I mean careful, driver- to the outraged ranger’s dismay…). I was able to obtain enough footage for a few wee videos featuring some minute creatures. Here is one below, shot at Pine Island Conservation Area in Merritt Island, FL. Thanks for drizzling by,

Smiling Toad

Un-Ring in the New Year With Sir

Tags

Black and White, Disgruntled, Florida, Fun, Humor, Nature, New Year, Photography, Portrait, Rain, Sir, Swamp

Ring in the New Year, you say? More like UN-Ring in the New Year…

What’s my New Year’s resolution this year, you ask? To lose this parasitic clicking proboscis snapping in my face…

She’s at it again…

Every day feels like a battle…

“You’re a real fashion model, now, Sir!” the terrible Lens-Slinger squeals through a series of gleeful snaps as I attempt to flee into the swamp…

(Lovely Frilled Lavender Scarf Design by local artisan: Barbara A. Alexander, who does custom colored shawls
E-mail:  Barbara10172002@yahoo.com
Scintillating super-model for scarf: Sir)

I try to hide in the soggy reeds, but the Lens-Slinger has no fear of cotton-mouth snakes, giant spiders and quick-sand mud riddled with hissing alligators. I, however, am terrified of these things and find I can no longer move as I begin to sink deeper into the muculent mire…and I still hear that persistent sound, clicking, in the brambles somewhere…

Even when I slip and fall on the slick and moldered green board-walks she marches me onto after dragging me out of the gurgling marsh, still NO stopping for a single drop of sympathy. Just an endless symphony of clicks buzzes over me as the great Black Orb winks at my corpse in complete lack of remorse…

With a cumbersome sigh I contemplate yet another year ahead…2015…I could just cry, attempting to fathom another 12 months of this incessant, photo-snapping torture…It’s not easy being a full-time super-model living in an endless slideshow-nightmare…

Happy 2015 to all from a wee Smiling Toad and a slightly disgruntled Sir!

Adopted by a Swan…

Tags

Bird, Black and White, Florida, Fun, Humor, Nature, Photography, Portrait, Swan

Sometimes, humans adopt animals from shelters. Sometimes these kindly benefactors are not satisfied with just the new speckled cat running the house, so they adopt a sparkling, new nonage human as well. And sometimes, humans get adopted by swans.

Naturally, I belong to the very last category…

Another Year of These Slide-Show Nightmares…

Tags

2014, Abstract Photography, Black and White, Blur, Commentary, Florida, Fun, Humour, Nature, New Year, Photography, Portrait Photography, Seascape, Silly, Song, Story, Surly, Water

A fortnight into the 2014’s great nascent, and Sir (the somewhat crabby super-model) greets its sunny, smiling visage with…perhaps an ever-so-slightly surly, tongue-protruding, sort of attitude…for reasons…I am rather foggy on, at the moment…

Anyhow, onto more smiling things- some new portraits of Sir and some of his, er, affectionate, comments. Cheers,

Smiling Toad

And so another year has dribbled by…and here I am again, startled awake by the monotonous scream of a clicking shutter resounding through my slide-show nightmares…

Everywhere I go, that sound, and that dark, evil un-blinking EYE bending my reflection around every corner, as I try so desperately to ESCAPE.

Another year of this? It’s only getting worse. In this photo, it seems the darn camera-toting toad forgot how to focus and expose properly. Certainly has no mercy. It is obvious, despite her trying to hide it by “blurring”, that I am bawling bullet-sized tears, here.

Even when I fall down after bawling so hard, she just coldly and laconically steps around my corpse, with that lens probing about for the “perfect angle” like a bird’s bill probes for worms. No sympathy. Sometimes, I wish she would say to me, there, sprawled in the soggy ravine, “Poor Sir…what a terrible monster I have been! What a curse this photography rot has been for you, poor man; why I’ve caused you to cry so ardently you’ve fallen and suffered great bodily injury, beyond that of the mental mauling you must have already sustained!“

Even better if she continued with,”HANG this camera! I’m throwing it in the murky mire beside you there, brimming with some darling gators, I see; or better-yet, I’m going to pop the lens off it in a tree with a noose. Let the birds nest in it, let the squirrels toss their acorns into it- I don’t care, I’M FINISHED!” Yes…I still can dream…

But no such luck…as reality seeps back into sharp focus. And now she seems to be on a “fabulous rock star” kick, adorning me in flickering baubles, frilly neck-gear, leather coats, and shiny eye-wear…One night, I forgot to take off the “props” and went cruising into a little local restaurant. Suddenly, a whole slew of wide-eyed people accumulated behind the counter and sang out to me, “Oh my goodness! Are you a musician?! Did you just come from a gig? We just loooove your hat!” Why me? (wince) I know what’s next…guitars and violins and horns will be draped all over me and then her face will alight with a terrible sprightly pixie smile, as she breaks out the eye-liner and lip gloss…I think I miss the “hit man” shoots, now…

“Oh YES perfect Sir, a bit of a groovy Bono-esc look here!” she chortles at me delightedly through a fog of clicks in this photo here. Not fooling me. I know what it looks like- some nasty creep out on the prowl. He’s got shiny glasses, hoping to “blend”. Here he’s suddenly turned away from a poor victim in order to glower into a shoppe window as a mustached police officer with a cherry-red face slowly sashays by, rapping his palm with his shiny black cudgel.

This seems to only enhance the ogling-masher-creep-effect. Oh why do I adhere to her silly commands? “Just kneel down there, Sir, yes lovely. The light is perfect now,” she cheeps, guiding me along with the muzzle of her camera. I protest, “But I don’t want to look at these ugly mannequins…” She replies, “Don’t worry about it; this is all for the lighting. Peeeeerfect.” A hundred snaps go off. Hmph. Bono my FOOT!

Sometimes, it’s just best to give in and pose…especially if you are pinned to a great sniveling serpentine cactus with razor-sharp quills pressing into one’s shoulder-blades…

And try to keep the tears at bay…And just hope that something else will EVENTUALLY catch the EYE’s interest…

Like this. Hmm…should I?

Or this.

Over time, though, you do develop some tricks of your own to combat the ultimate paparazzo protégé with. Ahhh the taste of rebellion! Or…near taste of it, anyway…

If you are afflicted with this problem of some atrocious imp shoving camera snouts in your face, try scuttling about in circles. Bob your head or twirl your umbrella. Throw a prop-hat into the wind. This works best in low light. Results in horrendous blurring, and hopefully, also in a photo-maker who flails off in defeat with arms flapping in frustration. Of course, do you know what my camera-toting tormentor cheeps at me whenever I do this? “OH BRILLIANT SIR! These photos are absolutely exquisite! So artistic, so abstract, and with such EMOTION!” (Sigh) Yes, that of deep, unfathomable despair…

Another option- turn around and…RUN!

Or try a scathing glare if your pursuer with the light-capturing device protruding forth happens to be a bit faster than you are…Ugh…that scarf! She was setting me up for disaster with that scarf and that bally stupid alpaca hat. Lasses kept bounding up in my face, squeaking how “cute” I looked. Boyfriends looked geared up to bash me so hard the scarf and stupid hat would go flying across the street…

Another tip- hide whenever you can, especially if your camera-wielding tormentor is distracted by a crack in the sidewalk or grime on a window or something. Of course…the determined paparazzo protégé will always find you…I know. They seem to have very keen focus. They don’t give up.

“And so, as I listen to a series of clicks reverberating through this foggy window, I leave you with a song that describes just how I feel below. Farewell. (I only dream that these nefarious images never, EVER find their way onto the great world-wide Web).”

Regards,

Sir

“Foggy Windows” by Unknown Hinson

Happy Boxing Day

Tags

Animals, Brevard County, Christmas, Colour Photography, Dry, Florida, Fun, Holiday, Humour, Ibis, Lights, Nature, New Year, Nikon, Photography, Portrait, Silly, Squirrels, Surly, Video

And from Sir, a wee holiday message:

Misery Christmas, I mean, Merry Christmas….

“A happy holiday and she’s dressing me up again…

“Why me??

“Now she is forcing me to pose as some sort of sick Clouseau Doolittle for infamous VIDEOS of me being barraged, assaulted, beaten, bitten and viciously pecked at by a sea of rabid, wild creatures!

“‘What ART!’ the expert torturer chimes with the dead glaze of that stupid camera poking in my face.

“I certainly hope these beastly things NEVER EVER find their way onto the Internet…”

–Sir

Jubilant holidays, a most happy Christmas, and a glorious New Year to all.

Myriad cheers,

Autumn Jade

Better Than Fireworks

Tags

Boat Light Parade, Christmas, Christmas Events, Commentary, Florida, Holidays, Humour, Light Parade, Lights, Night Photography, Photography, Satellite Beach, Silly

“Merry Drink-A-Lot” sang out some boisterous boaters this past weekend during the Holiday Boat Parade…

In the inky darkness, a man with a glow-in-the-dark silver mustache shivered beside me and muttered to his merry-christmasing wife, “Wish it were warmer…”

It was about 80 degrees Fahrenheit outside with a flimsy breeze.

“More flamingos and palm trees than Christmas trees and reindeer!” one man observed exuberantly, as a boat fluttered by, sporting an illuminated string of rather awesome LED flamingos pulling a sled, with great green and gold, swaying bloaty palm trees billowing up from the stern.

Classic Florida.

“HALLLOOOO! MERRY CHRISTMAAAAAAAS!” came some soggy, sonorous voices, slopping up from the brackish darkness. What were these strange things?

“Oh my…those are paddle-boarders!!” a wee lass cried out.

Indeed they were. Paddle-boarders completely saturated with blinking, twinkly little battery-operated LED lights. One man waved his red illuminated paddle high in the air and the crowd squealed with delight. I felt a strong urge to burst into a husky-voiced and rather guttural Christmas carol, but resisted…

“This is better than fireworks!” someone suddenly exclaimed. With the air of a serene sage, I nodded to the black night in agreement, as more and more brilliant, light-adorned, sirening boats shimmered by.

A child squealed out many holiday cheers to the buoyant and rather briny light parade. A parent scolded, “GET OFF OF THERE! You’re gonna slip and fall!”

She was rapidly removed from the dangerous spot.

I strode up and swaggered about the slick, rigid pavement where the child had been, in order to scrutinize the sea of boats a little more closely, when suddenly I found myself slipping.

Adorned in a fresh coat of decorative green slime, I grinned away as I filmed the rest of the parade crumpled up on the gooey boat slip that was now especially forbidden to all children.

Whale…I was planted there until, suddenly, a twinkly boat came careening up and I bolted into the air, only to find that my left leg was out of order. Apparently, it had gone to sleep. With an astoundingly obnoxious and rather obvious old sailor’s limp, I managed to hobble out of the way.

As the algae-coated denimed leg began to come back to life once more, some onlookers spilled onto the twinkly boat and roared off in a sea of bonhomie.

A hound barked behind me.

What a sight. Yes, it was grand. It was brilliant. It was blazing (and me flash was so violent it nearly sent a poor man tumbling into the rainbow-glinting drink below, blinded by the beam…I do not think he was all that comforted when I spat out, “Oh oopsie daisies! I had no idea it was that bright!”)

Yes, blazing indeed, and…far more exemplary than fireworks, I’d have to agree.

Cheers,

Autumn Jade

An Electric Friday Night

Tags

Black and White, Cars, Charging Station, Chevy, Climate Change, Eco, Electric, Electric Motorcycle, Electric Vehicles, Elon Musk, EV, Events, Florida, Global Warming, Green, IDEAS, Innovation, Nissan Leaf, Orlando, Photography, Plug-in, Rain, Science, Technology, Tesla, Volt, Wekiva Island

My idea of the perfect, jolly splendid time on a Friday evening must include sustainable technology. Singing and cavorting with wind turbines, doing pirouettes and cartwheels with solar panels, or being assaulted by ambulating infants as I roll about in puddles with a scintillating series of electric vehicles are all absolutely stellar plans for a mind-blasting good time for me. Throw in some owl sightings and some squeaking bats swiveling in the sky, and I have reached Utopia.

So, this past Friday night, Sir and I sluiced over to an electric car celebration, er, show, rather, in Orlando, organized by I.D.E.A.S. (Intellectual Decisions on Environmental Awareness Solutions). Local owners of the Chevy Volt, Tesla, and Nissan Leaf, along with two electric motorcycles, displayed their vehicles. Despite the drizzle of rain, there was quite an ebullient crowd, charged with the electric current of inspired ideas for the future.

I must note that I found it exceedingly difficult to resist bopping one of the fine motorcyclists off his two-wheeled, gently cooing, electric chariot so that I could proceed to ride off into the bleary sunset, squealing away pure puerile elation.

“Environmentally friendly cars will soon cease to be an option…they will become a necessity.”
–Fujio Cho

“One must generate electricity in a sustainable way, as well as consume it in a sustainable way.”
-Elon Musk

“People will say, ‘Well, don’t electric cars create pollution at the power plant level?’

“It should be noted that for any given source-fuel, it is always better to generate the power at the power plant level and then charge electric cars and run them, because power plants are much more efficient at extracting the energy than internal combustion engines in a car.

“Power plants are at least twice as efficient, and usually more like three-times as efficient. Even if the whole world were always to be powered by hydrocarbons, it would still make sense to do electric cars.

“But, of course, we must also find a sustainable means of generating energy. I think the main candidate for such energy generation is actually solar. I think the physics of this is rather obvious.”
-Elon Musk, quote from a lovely Oxford talk that can be seen Here

“Sustainability is a new idea to many people, and many find it hard to understand. But all over the world there are people who have entered into the exercise of imagining and bringing into being a sustainable world. They see it as a world to move toward not reluctantly, but joyfully, not with a sense of sacrifice, but a sense of adventure. A sustainable world could be very much better than the one we live in today.”
―Donella H. Meadows, “The Limits to Growth: The 30-Year Update”

“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”
–Margaret Mead

“I think anyone who likes fast cars will love the Tesla. And it has fantastic handling by the way. I mean this car will crush a Porsche on the track, just crush it. So if you like fast cars, you’ll love this car. And then oh, by the way, it happens to be electric and it’s twice the efficiency of a Prius”
-Elon Musk

The Art of Rabbit-Charming

Tags

Anecdote, Animal Rescue, Animals, Black and White Photography, Comedy, Florida, Humour, Misadventure, Nature, Nikon, Photography, Rabbit Walking, Rabbits, Story, Strays, Video, Writing

The night was humid and tangy, heady mist hovering in the air. The sky was low and moldered with deep purple cloud, reflecting in swirls the city’s incandescent glow.

I oozed along the gritty path, sweat creeping down my neck. Feral cats caterwauled and twirled ahead. I stopped to gaze at them when I noticed the black silhouette of a rabbit- a domestic rabbit- right amongst a sea of rowdy felines, ferine.

Rabbit Noir

“Are you trying to catch that rabbit, too?!” came an excited exclamation from a female voice.

I swiveled around to face a beaming woman with a crine of giant, lemon-hair outlined brilliantly in the gauzy strobe of the path-light. Her smile beamed through the darkness.

I must have had a sickly, rabbit-besotted look on my face as I stuttered, “Oh right, certainly so!”

“I’ve been trying to catch her for DAYS!” the woman boomed as her Siberian husky-dog companion stepped forward and my hand warbled gently onto the top of his silvery head.

Sir, another Rabbit-gatherer

“Well, I’ll gather her up then,” I said.

“It’s just about impossible! Oh PLEASE if you catch her will you give her to me?! I really want her!” cried the lovely blonde-haired companion to canines.

“Oh right,” I murmured, gazing into the gelid blue eyes of the great dog, his tongue lolling.

A dyspeptic sort of smile crackled across my ruddy visage, imagining a rabbit taking up residence with this fine canine…

Then came a gust, the lass bugling with a touch of doubt about her elongated words, “GOOOOOD LUUUUUCK!”, as the ashen-grey sled-hound suddenly javelined forth, hurrying the dog-owner quickly away.

I turned. A cat rolled into the stubborn rabbit who staunchly held her place, her head poised, haughty. I belched forward.

The rabbit shot into the woods at approximately 90 mph. Hum. Not like the usual wild rabbits that seem to always swarm at my feet, darting up to me in the millions, as if I cram my shamrock socks with carrots and don stylishly-leafy celery stalks behind my ears as a nice accent to my Timothy hay wig…

I wobbled after the rabbit. The air was like still water.

A lettuce-lover

In complete darkness, amidst some kind of inky-black copse of tangled bramble and twisted trees, I was compelled to kneel down for a moment to brood about how to gather up the creature. My hand found itself lightly alighting right upon the head of the long-eared creature.

“Ooofffeee!” I muttered and the rabbit dissipated.

I puttered about and decided that I could decipher just where the lagomorph would emerge, out of this great patch of weald. I swirled all the way around to the very back of the deep patch, where I knew there was a quiet spread of grass, quite secluded.

Astoundingly, my pathetic bit of rabbit psychology proved correct as I came beetling up to the creature gently grazing and barking off more rambunctious cats. One cat, I noticed, had just assembled himself into a wobbly pouncing position.

Some felines fear rabbits, like this one here

The mouse-lovers sprayed away as I appeared, but the lettuce-lover seemed shocked and merely gawped at me. I had done it. I could see it in that glazed look hovering in her wide doe-eyes. The rabbit-charm never fails. Twelve seconds later she was in my arms, purring, whiskers tickling the neck.

See, these cats are fleeing some bully bunnies in the other room

Having never held a rabbit before, I carried my new rabbit-roomie off into the darkness, to soon take up residence with some wee-woodland-creature-fearing cats and greens-flinging, hay bequeathing humans.

Needless to say, aye, the rabbit was most content.

In need of a dear ol’ chum

After some months, however, a depression overtook the cilantro-and-carrot-gobbling being. She was in need of a fellow long-eared companion, it was concluded.

I was off to the park again, this time with Sir, to muse over where to obtain this new chum for the rabbit that had strangely become known to us as Gandhi-Poe Lassie.  Would there be a rabbit at the shelter, perchance? Perhaps we should check the online ads.

We were not haunting the park more than three seconds when Sir spotted a white-blazed, pink-nosed, black pet rabbit huddled against a yellow parking curb. Oh my.

Rabbit Musings

It seemed our musing was over.

He bleated to me, I got out to attend to the rabbit, and Sir sped off to go get a cage and a net from the house just down the way. Hmph. Who needs those things?

I began to radiate rabbit-charm when a human being approached from behind, yet again, and the wee woodland creature darted underneath a parked car. Oh dear.

The approacher was an octogenarian woman looking to vacate the park. Her instant assumption was that the rabbit now crouched beneath her pale Lincoln car was mine, and that I was of in the habit of stowing pet rabbits under whatever cars I liked, whenever I felt like it, regardless of consequences and who I might hurt.

Too cute to stow and leave under cars

Well, I am not one to sway about and attempting to explain things. I am one of action. I decided I would get right to work gathering up the creature.

A nervous first-meeting

I was nervous, however, and my radiating rabbit-charm was askew as the woman stamped impatient feet and huffed to the heavens about the oh so grueling oppression of the Impetuous Youth, of which she readily decided I was most assuredly a member of.

My crawling about and cooing beneath her car seemed to exacerbate her aggravation, and did nothing to entice the rabbit to scoot elsewhere. I attempted to snag, and he would shuffle out of reach every time.

Just a thought

The Lincoln-owner decided starting the car might help. The rabbit seemed to find the gentle bombilation of the engine relaxing.

At last, I decided to bellow and have convulsions underneath the car, to the automobile-owner’s audible dismay, and the rabbit slipped out of the shadows and pranced across the way in order to perch on some coquina-limestone outcroppings. Obviously, he did not find it prudent to while away the hours under cars with humans having fits.

I oozed sheepishly out from underneath the vehicle and the grey-haired woman sputtered a rapid, “THANK YOU!” at me as she speedily evacuated.

Some onlookers smiled as I wobbled over to the limestone. A grin had manifested itself on my face as I recognised the look the lagomorph was beaming at me. Yes, I knew that look- “Right-ho, pick me up, all ready to go now.”

Bunion Claude

There was a hazy film hovering in the rabbit’s auburn eyes. He was charmed. He was almost smiling as I scooped him up and hoofed it home, as at last, the heat was quelled by the commencement of a gentle, sluicing rain. The rabbit, named Bunion Claude, seemed to like the soft shower, and purred in my arms.

Timothy-hay-muncher

And so, that was how I became rabbit-roomies with the two fine foot-slapping, white-cotton-tailed creatures. They adore chasing the trembling cats, gobbling red leaf lettuce, and munching hay from my wig as I pat them contentedly on the head in a sort of rabbit-loving haze.

Cheers,

Autumn Jade

Is that a Whale Falling Out of the Ocean?

Tags

Comedy, Compliments, Creature, Gollum, Humour, Imp, Joy, Ocean, Peculiar, Photography, Quote, Sea, Silly, Surf, Surfers, Video, Wave

Most common compliment bequeathed by surfers- “Dude! I thought you were a sea-turtle!”

“It is hard to resist a flatterer who gets it right.”

-Robert Brault

The top compliments of me olde, barnacled life have been when I was mistaken for a whale (I wept, I was so honoured- can read that story here if so inclined), called a “shark whisperer” (adinparadise, a dashed lovely blogger, called me such only very recently, the thoughtful dear lassie!) and told I look identical to the sibilant stone-creature dubbed “Gollum” from the “Lord of the Rings” films.

(Never have managed to catch a wee glisk of any of the films, and fear I have also neglected to read the books, but I did see an advert once, and blast, I really do look just like that gorgeous, bulbous-eyed stone-imp!)

A most stupendous Wave to fall out of

Right-ho, so, to celebrate being called a whale, amongst other dashed precious things, I thought I would share a silly, wee video featuring a day in the brine. Perhaps it may reveal why a smiling toad might just be mistaken for a whale when engaging in the delicate and suave art-form of falling out of the ocean.

Thank you for sluicing by,

Smiling Toad

A “Happy” New Year from a Slightly Disgruntled Sir

Tags

2013, Black and White, Cafe, Daughter, Dry, Family, Father, Florida, Fun, Hats, Humour, New Year, Photography, Photoshoots, Portrait Photography, Relationships

Hello, this is Sir. Happy New Year, you say? More like Crappy New Year… Why so dismal and dreary, so deplorably dark? Well…life is not the easiest to live when it consists of a series of endless photo-shoots. Yes…living with a paparazzo protégé has its hardships…

First off…she picks out horrid outfits for me to wear, like I’m some kind of doll-like thing…I mean, look at this! The torment…and she has about 23,000 hats to put on my head. All to appease that dratted camera Eye clicking in my face, glazed over like that of a predator’s before the pounce…

Sometimes, I pretend to fall asleep and pray that when my eyes open again, she’ll have lost the camera….but I know it isn’t so, because I can hear the camera clicking incessantly the whole time I’m wishing in darkness

Even when I start to cry, she doesn’t get the hint… “Why Sir, you’d make a perfect Scrooge with those sideburns!” (they were HER idea, by the way, so was this ridiculous coat, and all these blasted hats) She continues, “Aye, arg, you look like you’ve strolled right out of a Dickens novel!”

“Brilliant!! You look just like a mobster, some horrid beast from ‘On the Waterfront’, ooo yes, work that gritty magic, fabulous! Woo work that aquiline nose, too perfect!” Is that supposed to be a compliment? Must gently remind her later she might not consider becoming a model-photographer…

“There’s the calculating, gritty and arid city-slicker, oooo what a glare! Yes! You look just like a hit-man!” More flamboyant flatteries flow forth…

Sometimes, she finally stops shoving her beloved in my face to take a photo of something a bit more practical. I get some relief to brood.

Sometimes, I can steal away whilst she’s busy falling into the river or something. Maybe even while she’s occasionally photographing something of interest…or something not so interesting…

Drat! The ambulating camera found me…”Oooo Sir, you have a Bogart look going there, I MUST capture it!” Another thing this camera-fanatic lacks whenever the “eye” is poised in hand, is decorum. See…car-fanatics or motorcycle enthusiasts or avid surfers still have a lot of time where they must be apart from their beloved darlings. They cannot tote their surf-boards, Corvettes, and Harley Davidsons everywhere they go- they can’t take them into the middle of the farmer’s market (hmm…some might try), to the theatre, or into a quaint little bistro or café for their dainty tea-time appointments. But the camera fanatic is different. She drags the thing everywhere with her like Linus and his blasted blue blanket. Her beloved is glued to her hands and poking in my face everywhere I turn…

And the hats….Here our demonette was photographing so avidly that some nice lady came prancing up and giggled into my ear, “You must be quite beautiful to have so many photos taken of you! Haw haw!!” Her husband, a huge hulking guy in a fleece jumper, was beet red. Then the lady kissed the hat…I don’t know how she could stand it, darn things reek of cigar ash. Where does Babs find these blooming hats, anyway, and how did she accumulate SO MANY of them?! Meanwhile, Husband looks like he’s gearing up to beat my face so hard the darn hat will go sailing clear across the room…

When she’s not having me break up marriages, Babs also likes to “pose” me around downtown, to do a “noir” shoot… “Brilliant, brilliant Sir!” she chimes at me all the time, “You look suave, perfect, so smooth, so noir!” I know what she’s really made me look like…a panhandler…

Or this guy. She’s not fooling me…

So, now a New Year is rolling in. I suspect 2013 is going to be filled with more and more of these “brilliant shoots” with Babs and her dratted pet camera…so, I’ll cry here in the blue light and think of days of old when she was only so high and gave me licked-dry doughnuts for a gift and thought it was funny to throw footballs in my face, call me a “bobo” and draw unflattering pictures of me- but did not OWN A BLASTED CAMERA! P.S. If any future prospective employers find these infamous photographs (that I know my tormentor will slap online with chop-slaking glee), the possibility of obtaining such job will become…toast…

A most content and deeply chuffed New Year to all, happy 2013 from a slightly disgruntled Sir and a wee smiling toad, Autumn Jade.

Cheers!