I am so missing my camera, which is still being repaired, somewhere far away. I think I've actually experienced camera withdrawal.
I can't tell you how many times during the day I come upon blogworthy scenes that I long to capture for posterity and for your viewing enjoyment. And -- I mean -- this is autumn; it's like I'm in the middle of an Impressionist painting every day, and I have no camera.
Now, if I did have a camera, some of the things I'd be showing you would include:
A still life of my Moore Orchard heirloom apples. You can't believe these apples -- huge, bronzy russets with a ponderous German varietal name -- very crisp and sweet; an eponymous Mahogany apple, pleasantly tart, probably a great cider apple; a yellow-and-pink Holstein apple; a rosy streaked apple whose name I've forgotten; these amazing little green and russet apples, maybe a little bigger than a crabapple, that are insanely sweet and spicy and crispy.
The hand-lettered sign at a local petting farm that advises, "WARNING: OSTRICH MAY BE DANGEROUS." If you're close enough to read the sign, chances are that you're also looking into the eyes of one very angry ostrich, who doesn't take kindly to rubberneckers slowing down along the road to gawk at it. I mean, you don't see a sign like this every day, and certainly not in a place like Outer Podunk. It deserves to be blogged.
The strutural steel framing of our new church addition, which has just begun going up. This is really exciting stuff. Members and neighbors have been kicking in great amounts of sweat equity, and our congregation has received quite astounding offers of help. And our parishoners are daring to dream a little. A local stained glass artist expressed an interest in creating a rose window for us, so we're doing some special fundraising for that project.
The Codeman and his friends. Now that the novelty has worn off, Cody and The Big Blondes have settled into a really wacky kind of love/hate/toleration relationship. Especially when I'm present, Cody is The Little Prince -- bossy, whiny, petulant, jealous and generally insufferable. He and Katie, his older friend, are both marathon eaters; she steals his treats, and he in turn taunts her with his kibbles, which he will bring out one by one and parade in front of her nose. He and his other gal pal Cassie are constantly vying for my attention, looking daggers at the other if he or she gets it instead. But when they get sleepy, they dogpile -- Cody usually curled up on top of Katie, sometimes even on top of Cassie. Cody finds male solidarity with Charlie, the neighbor's large, elderly bird dog; and he also has a genuinely sweet and gentle relationship with Mollie the cat, who seems fascinated by the idea of a dog that's the same size as she is. Who knew that my little canine was a social butterfly?
The leaves. Well, there's not a lot of those left, but there's still some color here and there. Michigan is really underrated as a leaf-peeping state, but we have gorgeous fall color here. In their honor, I recently mounted some artistic leaves on my wall-- they're made out of polymer, molded using real leaves, and hand-painted; I found them at an art fair last month, and knew they'd wind up on my wall. I'm also in the process of framing some of the photographs I found at an art fair this summer. Slowly, very slowly, I am turning my house into my house. I don't know how long I'll stay here, but as long as I am here I have a need to make it feel more like me.
Anyhow -- that's what you'd see if I had my camera back. Camera Guy promises I'll have my camera by Thanksgiving. We'll see.