Bookmark Project - African American Supplicant (culture) / Boxing Body Parts

This is from a more recent post, and is one of my favorite pics of all time.  The composition was ideal for creating a bookmark focusing on the primary subject.

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[continued from yesterday's post; series started 10/20]

My new position was close to the fat table, but right between the gut table and the end of the head line, which was elevated above part of my station.  It was there that the workers sliced off the lips, cheeks and cranial head meat, tossing them into hoppers, below which were boxes waiting to be filled.  I was responsible for keeping those boxes in place under their respective hoppers, and weighing them to 80 pounds once filled.  At the same time I monitored the volume of hearts and spleens coming from the gut table, weighing them also to 80 pounds.  The boxes, once filled, were carried to a conveyor with rollers and fed through a window into the offal department, where they were strapped closed and placed into cold storage.

I like this job also, as it was much harder work and the scale, gut table and head line were all in different places, so got plenty of leg exercise moving between the three.  After a couple of weeks I toned up even more and developed a rhythm that allowed for some down time, but not nearly as much as what I was getting at the fat table.  Besides, the station was blocked in by the roller conveyors so I couldn't wander around as much as before, even if I had the time.

The boxes themselves were like the ones you buy at the office supply store - they came in flat sheets that were scored to make it easier to fold into the shapes to form the lids and bottoms.  These were much heavier cardboard, however, and coated with wax on the interior sides for obvious reasons.  Someone in the offal department above the station had the responsibility to assemble these boxes and drop them through the ceiling on a stainless steel chute.  From there I was able to get the boxes that I needed, so long as the guy upstairs was doing his job.

Sometimes that didn't happen, however, and I'd have to fuss at the foreman in offal when the supply ran out.  That didn't happen too many times before I decided to take matters into my own hands (literally) by making my own boxes.  It wasn't difficult to get the guys in offal to just give me the flat sheets, as it lightened their load a bit, and for my part it filled in the down time once the rhythm was in place.  Thus, it became my job to make the boxes in addition to collecting and weighing the meat.  I grew to like it even more at that point because I didn't have a minute to spare, racing between the gut table, head meat hoppers and scale while keeping up with the box supply.  It was a good day when all of the day's boxes were done by mid-shift.

I didn't stop at that, however.  Once I got that routine down flat the challenge was gone, so when on the morning shift I made all of the boxes for the next shift as well.  It was a proud day the first time all of A Shift's boxes were ready for the next guy (I was on B shift), and seeing his expression of surprise and appreciation.  You'd think that he would reciprocate when it came time for B shift to rotate to afternoons, but he didn't so I only did that a few times.

Bookmark Project - Guardian Statue (culture) / The Next Summer at IBP

This was captured from my sister-in-law's backyard of a neighbor's statue on the other side of the fence.  One of those cases where I'd seen it from this perspective dozens of times, wishing I'd had a camera.  Well, finally brought one along and got my chance on a cloudy day when the light was more/less even.

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[continued from yesterday's post; series started 10/20]

When the summer of 1978 was over I returned to Nacogdoches and college, full of slaughterhouse and conversion experiences.  And financially I was taken care of for my third of the expenses.

Naturally, the next summer - the summer of 1979 - I returned to Amarillo and was hired again to work on the floor, and again, by request, assigned to the fat table.  Not much had changed, except the neighborhood was a little emptier.  Adjacent to the table were three work stations where the small intestines were skinned for sausages.  Due to a lack of demand for those skins, my neighbors were reassigned.  I'd gotten to know them the year before, and actually missed their presence.  Other than that the job was exactly the same.

Since I'd already developed a pretty good workflow, there was even more time that second summer to wander around and learn.  This time, though, I not only watched but tried many of the jobs I'd observed the previous summer: one of the jobs on the skinning line (without much success); I cut the heads off and placed them on hooks at the beginning of the head line (each weighing between 35 and 40 pounds); the squeegees in the blood pit; Ramón let me try my hand at skinning livers; and I even messed around on the gut table once in a while.  Every so often a foreman would have to kick me out of one of those places and order me back to the fat table.

This was also the summer that I gave my friend Johnnie Scholl a tour of the floor.  She'd heard me talk about the place for going on two summers, and was eager to let me show her around once I got permission from management.  After getting approval I took her to the plant one day after a morning shift, and proudly showed her all of the places I'd been talking about.  She was young and a drop-dead gorgeous blond, so we got a lot of cat-calls from the guys, but I hardly even noticed in my enthusiasm to share the place with my friend.  The only near-mishap was when an eyeball whizzed by as we were walking on the catwalk above the floor.

The end of the summer of 1979 marked the end of my tenure as a fat washer on the floor.  The summer-fall of 1981 (I was in Mexico the summer of 1980), I graduated up and beyond the fat table and was assigned to the third of the four jobs I ever did at IBP - that of boxing spleens, hearts and head meat which included cheeks and lips.

Bookmark Project - Tokyo Bridge with GE (cityscapes) / My Best Summer

The glowing edges and found edges effects in Photoshop seem to work well for bookmarks also.  This was captured on a trip to Tokyo in 2015.

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[continued from yesterday's post; series started 10/20]

The summer of 1978 - the first of my three summers in Amarillo - was probably the best in my life, in large part due to the experience of working at the slaughterhouse.  People think I'm nuts when I get nostalgic about a slaughterhouse, but without that experience I would not have learned the value and satisfaction of hard labor, and I would not have met the most important influences of my life to date - namely Ramón García, Bill Davis and the bunch responsible for my conversion to Christ, for the direction of my professional career, and for where I am (and ultimately who I married) today.  I am a staunch social, political and fiscal conservative, but must put the brakes on that once in a while because, after all, it was an illegal alien fresh from Mexico (Ramón), that steered the ship of my life at such a formative time.  And it all sprang from the kill floor of the largest, most modern slaughterhouse in the world.

None of this would have happened with my brother Bob.  I realized at the conclusion of my experience there, as well as in ensuing years, that following his advice generally results in a positive outcome.  I am forever grateful that he planted the seed that led to those experiences.

Not to mention that it was just plain fascinating!  I became intensely interested in even the smallest jobs on the floor, learning something every day about the processes that make use of every part of the animal.  Once I learned to manage the three parts of my fat-washing job well enough, I could be seen in every nook and cranny of the floor simply watching, and often asking questions.  What is this used for?  Why do they save that?  Where does this go once it's boxed?  Hence the nickname, "Mr. IBP".

Bookmark Project - New Orleans Domino Sugar Factory (cityscapes) / Slaughterhouse Advantages

I bought my first digital camera Thanksgiving 2002.  Shortly after Christmas of that year Andrew and I took a trip to New Orleans, marking the first trip captured with the new technology, a Fujifilm 3800.  By then I was hooked, excited at the potential and the fact that we could come back home and see our pictures without the hassle of taking film to Walmart or some such place.  And the literally-instant gratification stoked my creativity to a whole new level.  Almost every frame brought a surprise that could be creatively explored as the days passed.

This particular bookmark is from a pic taken while on a boat tour of the Mississippi River.  It's the Domino Sugar factory - full of history, nostalgia and earth tones...I knew right away it was a "keeper" (though I hadn't yet adopted the term).

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[continued from yesterday's post; series started on 10/20]

There were many advantages to working in the slaughterhouse.  One was that it was good, honest hard labor.  Very hard labor - for every ten hired about eight washed out within two weeks.  After each summer there I was a lot healthier physically, and noticeably stronger - my brother Bob used to make me show off my muscles whenever we got together.  The hard work was one of the greatest aspects of the job.  And in later summers when I moved beyond the fat table and took other jobs on the line, the repetition didn't bother me that much.

Another advantage was that it was almost 100% blue collar.  There were a handful of the white-collar manager types, but virtually every soul under the roof of that plant was the hard-working, down-to-earth, hand-to-mouth, non-pretentious individual with (mostly) good values.  Indeed there were a few jerks, as is the case everywhere, but I felt very comfortable and learned a lot about life in their midst.  However it's true that, being a college student, I had a brighter outlook for the future, thus knew - and was glad - that I was merely a visitor to that world looking in, if not even a little down, from the outside.

While on the subject of the people on the floor, there was an incredible variety.  Many were immigrants from Mexico, legal and otherwise.  For some reason there was a good percentage from Laos...in fact the first ethnic grocery store I ever saw was a Laotian one that I passed every day on the way to work, on the famous Route 66.  And, most interesting, there was a smattering of Navajo Indians.  True to the stereotype, they were known for showing up drunk, and not many stayed very long.

Bookmark Project - Rattlesnake Skin (background patterns) / Saving Pancreases

The first time I took the Bigger Cahoona to the Houston Zoo, back in 2018, I went nuts.  And with over 600 pictures taken in five hours it was a very fruitful shoot.  This is one of those images, one that turned out well due to the light color of the snake's scales, which helped keep the shutter speed a little faster.  While the entire picture was not all that great, I thought this sliver makes a pretty good background pattern.

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[continued from yesterday's post; series started 10/20]

The third part of the fat washer's job was to freeze pancreas tissue.  Someone from the gut table would put the pancreases in a plastic bucket (since it was not consumed as food by humans the bucket didn't have to be stainless steel) and send it my way.  I would immediately carry the bucket into a deep freeze and spread the contents evenly in a large plastic tray and slide the tray back into its rack.  Time was of the essence here, as the pharmaceutical industry extracted insulin from the tissue, and we could not afford to allow any contamination or necrosis.  This I considered to be the most important part of the job, as someone's health and quality of life down the road depended on the insulin that came from those pancreases.

I was very content with this job, and was glad that they didn't reassign me to another part of the floor for the duration of the summer.  It was hard labor, but I got my time management down and developed a rhythm that allowed me to wonder around and learn about the other jobs.  One time I even walked past the shroud line, through cold storage, and made it all the way into the north half of the plant, where the sides are cut up into steaks and such.  Boy was I out of place there in my apron and bloody garb from the kill floor!

It was all fascinating to me, and my enthusiasm was certainly unique among my peers.  Before long, as I was about the only one on the floor that claimed he liked his job, "Mr. IBP" became my nickname.

Bookmark Project - Baylor Rock Pool (background patterns) / Washing Tendons

The family went to Baylor in Waco one time to see our niece in a performance of some sort.  It was a sunny day, and capturing what its rays did to the rocks at the bottom of this pool on campus was a no-brainer.  Have lots of bookmarks categorized as background patterns, but this is one of the better ones.

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[continued from yesterday's post; series started on 10/20]

Another part of the job was to wash tendons.  Every so often I would leave my fat table and walk over to where this cute little blonde cut the tendons from the beef and placed them in a stainless steel bucket.  I would get one or two buckets full of these tendons and haul them back to my area where there were two spigots in a little room.  I would hang the buckets from the spigots and turn the water on, allowing them some time to rinse.  Then they were placed in a box on a nearby scale and weighed to 30 pounds.  After weighing, the box was closed with a strapping machine and carried to a pallete.

This is one thing that I really liked about the job, as the monotony of assembly line type of work was broken by moving to other parts of the floor and interacting with folks from different parts of the line.  I considered myself luckier than the majority, who had to remain in the same place doing the same thing for the entire shift.

Naturally I'd never seen a tendon, so asked, What in the world do they do with these things?  Turns out they were sent to China, where in places they are a delicacy.  Here I was in Amarillo, Texas, washing tendons, of all things, for consumption clear on the other side of the globe!  It was an intriguing thought.

Bookmark Project - Train Silhouette (Astros with Kevin) / The Fat Table

Anyone who knows me well knows that I don't follow sports that much.  The exception being professional football, which my wife and I followed closely and enjoyed immensely for several years.  Then, when it turned into a political circus a couple of years ago, we tuned out and never went back.  So sad, because one of the functions of attending a sporting event - whether in person or by watching on TV - is to provide an escape from exactly those types of things.

But 2008 was well before that time.  I do enjoy going to an Astros game because it is relaxing, and the crowds seem to be more family oriented.  For a couple of years Chenjean and I got to go for free, as we helped hand out stuff to patrons as they came in through the gates...usually the "first 10,000", though it sometimes went beyond that.  And as someone who "worked the game", when our duties were over we could sit in any seat that was vacant.  In a more recent year we were invited by a bank to attend in their special box, and actually meet some of the players.  So, while baseball is not a sport that we actively follow, we do enjoy the experience of an Astros game at Minute Maid park.

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[continued from yesterday's post; series began on 10/20]

I followed the lead man, winding around until we arrived at a low, flat table that had big sheets of fat chuted in from the gut table.  My new job was fat washer, which was considered light duty for the injured until they recovered enough to return to their former posts.

After being at it a while, however, I had no intention of returning to any other post, much less the shroud line!  The position was right in the thick of things, offering a pretty good view of everything going on in the floor.  And not that I've ever shied away from hard labor, but the duty was light enough to allow me to walk around a bit to get to know the folks nearby, learning what their jobs were and how they fit into the entirety of the disassembly line.  I enjoyed it.

My own job as a fat washer was a three-parter.  As the fat sheets came in from the chute, I was supposed to swish it around and look for intestinal contents and other undesirables that may have contaminated it from the gut table, as well as cysts and parasites that may have infected the beast before slaughter.  If it passed, I tossed the fat over the end of the table into an auger where it was smushed and fed into a 4-inch pipe.  Steam was injected into the pipe to emulsify the fat for the quarter-mile trip to the other side of the plant, where trucks were waiting to receive it for transportation to hither and yon: the destinations were where it would be processed into products such as Crisco Oil and margarine.  It was fascinating to me that I was there at the very beginning of this process, which provided cooks all over the world with these ingredients.

Bookmark Project - Astros High-Five (Astros with Kevin) / No More Shroud Line

For the first time the other day I created a category based on an event.  Back in 2008 my friend Kevin celebrated his 50th birthday by driving down from Arkansas to attend an Astros game, a gift from his wife Megan.  They graciously invited me along, and naturally I brought with me the camera I had at the time, the Fujifilm 7000.  The category is called "Astros with Kevin".

It was tough getting good pictures from a point-and-shoot, but some ended up being passable, such as this bookmark featuring the team during their ritual high-fives to start the game.

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[continued from yesterday's post; series started 10/20]

After about four days on the shroud line I could no longer ignore a growing problem associated with the job.  My wife says that I have "tofu skin", as it doesn't hold together too well.  Didn't know the truth of that at the time, but in struggling with the shroud pins there were several places on my hands where the skin literally rubbed off of my hands, so that when I took my gloves off there were patches that exposed the flesh underneath.  At first I didn't say anything, but these patches weren't healing, and grew by the day.  And the salt water that was used to soak the shrouds didn't help!

So finally I went into the floor office and showed my hands to the head foreman, Glenn,  who had no problem deciding that a change was needed.  To my great relief - and probably that of my co-workers - the next day one of the lead men escorted me into the very bowels of the floor (pun intended) to where my new job would be.  For the first time I was able to see the main floor, and looked around in fascination as we passed the skinning line, the tongue and head lines, the gut table, and the blood pit.  I remember mistaking blood - purplish, jelly-like globs on the floor - for brains.

Bookmark Project - Honister Statue Pair (art) / The Shroud Line at IBP, Round 2

Made this bookmark from a picture featured in the Honister series from the UK while I was there with Andrew.

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[continued from yesterday's post; series began 10/20]

When my inability to keep up in the upper shroud position became obvious I was reassigned to the lower position, on the floor itself.  Now that the shroud had been draped over the tops of the sides where the meat hook was, workers there (guys this time) flipped up the bottom of the shroud and pinned it into place on both sides, like a diaper that tucked up the loose meat and fat hanging down.

I dove in full-bore with what I was supposed to do.  They had a system where the pins were delivered in special stainless steel wheelbarrows that had holes in the bottoms so they could be sprayed with hot water before being put back into service.  One of my jobs there was to get a big yellow hose and spray those things down with very hot water...almost boiling.  The pressure coming from the hose was pretty high, and if you didn't grab it just right it would get loose from you and wreak havoc, burning anyone that was near.

As for the pinning, I struggled to keep up, and must have looked comical to those close by.  As simple as it sounds - after all, you just bring up the bottom of the shroud and pin it into place on both sides - there was a flow, a method that you had to adopt or you would fall behind.  And I got behind a lot!  The beef was freely swinging from hooks, and if the job was not done properly would pivot and turn around, which meant I at times ended up facing my coworkers from the wrong side of the line.  This would completely throw the rhythm off, and sometimes I ended up literally chasing the sides almost to the door into refrigeration!  A time or two I had to watch forlornly as it entered those doors with the shroud still handing free, pins stuck uselessly into the dangling cloth.

In spite of these theatrics, out of curiosity I would take every opportunity possible to look into the other parts of the floor.  The shroud line was at the very end of processing on the kill floor and was situated so that it was the first part of the line you'd see after coming out of the locker room for your shift.  Everything done beforehand to the freshly-killed beef was much deeper in and off to the right, behind the wall of the knife-sharpening cage.  I nevertheless peered curiously in that direction as often as I could; to me the place was fascinating.  From my duty station I could see just a sliver of what was going on there: part of the skinning line, and parts of the tongue and head lines further in the distance, all simultaneously moving in different directions at the same speed.  I wondered, Would I ever get to go in there and just take a look around?

As it turned out, the answer to that question was a big fat Yes.

Bookmark Project - Thirsk Match Cathedral (art) / The Shroud Line at IBP

Had trouble getting a sharp enough image of this one with the Bigger Cahoona, as my middling lens kept the shutter open for longer due to the dim light of the subject.  This is a copy of the cathedral in which it was sitting, made entirely of match sticks.

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[continued from yesterday's post; series started 10/20]

By the time I arrived in Amarillo Bob had taken a job in Houston, but arrangements were made for the apartment and car.  I took a day or so to settle in, then at the first opportunity drove over to IBP and applied.  Pretty much anyone with a heartbeat was hired - legally here or not - but I still was a little nervous, having thrown my hat over the fence.  Naturally I made it in, after submitting the paperwork and a cursory interview with a foreman named Glenn, during which I mentioned Bob and the fact that he recommended the place.

I showed up at the appointed hour, got my clothes and equipment, then for the first time walked onto the kill floor.

My first duty was on the shroud line, which involved placing a large salt-water-soaked cloth, or shroud, over the sides of the beef as a preservative just before they went into cold storage.  The job involved working in one of two levels.  The first was high up and you had to climb a ladder to get to the platform, enabling access to the place where meat hooks suspended the sides of beef.  This was where I was stationed.  My job was to drape a shroud over the side so that it hung evenly, then secure it into place with a stainless steel shroud pin...all while the line was moving, so that I had to move along with it and keep up.

I must have looked weak or vulnerable, because there were three workers on that platform, and besides me the other two were girls.  Tough-looking, strong girls, but girls nonetheless.  Even so, I found it impossible to keep up because, as stated a couple of posts ago, the plant at the time was processing 225 head an hour and it was simply too fast for me.  One of my two companions often had to double up and do hers plus mine...not a good way to start.

Bookmark Project - Stewart Title Company (architecture) / Headed to Amarillo

This is (or was as of 2008) the Stewart Title Company on the Strand in Galveston.

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[continued from yesterday's post]

In August of 1977 I was college-bound for SFA in Nacogdoches, and left radio and television behind, a move that I've never regretted, though the experiences left fodder for some good story-telling once in a while.

In order to pay for college my dad and I had a deal going.  One-third of my education was to be paid by my mother's estate (she'd died the year before, in April of 1976), one-third by my dad, and one-third I had to earn myself.  This was when education was a lot cheaper, and SFA was one of the cheapest, so there was no big hurdle for any of us.  So it was that toward the end of my freshman year I was faced with figuring out how to earn money for my third of the bargain.

I didn't have to think long, because in short order it was all handed to me on a silver platter, as they say.

After graduating law school at UT Austin, my brother Bob took his first job with Tom Upchurch in Amarillo, up in the panhandle of Texas.  One of the cases he worked on was in defense of Iowa Beef Processors, Inc. (IBP) - some guy got cut on the floor and tried to sue.  While working on the case (which he won), Bob learned that the hourly pay there was decent, and that it would be easy to get hired there because of the huge turnover, especially on the kill floor.  He called me at SFA one day and suggested that I might apply there to earn money for the summer.  To make the arrangement a little easier he knew of a place that I could rent, and on top of that he would sell me one of his two cars - a 1968 Rambler American named Old Blue.  Things seemed to be falling into place for me to come on up, so I hopped on a bus and did just that.

This was one of those times when I felt strongly that I was in the right place at the right time.  I had given up the glamor, notoriety and ego-stroking experience of being on the radio and behind the scenes in television, and took on the hard labor of working on the kill floor of a slaughterhouse.  To this day that summer of 1978 remains one of the brightest spots in life.

Bookmark Project - York Minster Profile (architecture) / Slaughterhouse Stories Begin Again

The next category we're going to sample is architecture.  This is a sliver of a picture posted here last year.

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Well, I suppose this is as good a place to start as any.  Back in September of 2017 I started a series on my slaughter house stories.  It was published a little sporadically, and I was never really satisfied with the writing, but left it in place.

Very recently, in digging through some of my old files, I found 25 pages of writing from 2013 that I'd completely forgotten about.  Included in this writing was a stretch involving my time working at IBP in Amarillo, which at the time was the biggest beef slaughter house in the world.  It was a hugely positive, transformative time in my life...a time I've endeavored to capture in writing and stories around the dinner table (!) ever since.

In reading over my work from 2013, I've concluded that the writing is maybe a little better, and I'd like to record the series in consecutive posts as opposed to skipping around some, as was done a couple of years ago.  Thus, tomorrow begins again my time there...

Bookmark Project - Rock Macaque at the Taipei Zoo (animals)

We did encounter some wild macaques near the village where Chenjean grew up, but this pic - the best of the lot - was captured at the Taipei Zoo.

These guys are native exclusively to the island of Taiwan, and have an interesting - and perhaps tragically predictable - history.

My very first time visiting Chenjean's parents was in December of 1987, and I will never forget the monkeys that were there.  Just a few steps from their house was a place where they had a few monkeys on display.  Instead of in cages, however, they had cables connected between two trees at a level that was low enough for visitors to get a close view.  The monkeys were tethered to these cables with a loop that allowed them freedom of movement from one tree to the next; at one end there was an old 55-gallon barrel that offered protection from the frequent rains, and wind generated by the several hurricanes that pass through each year.

Naturally the first morning there, after we'd eaten breakfast, I made a beeline to see the monkeys.  It was such a romantic notion...here I was smack dab in the middle of the jungles of Formosa that I'd read about as a child in school, and here were some of the native monkeys that underscored the fact that we were really in this exotic land.  At the time there were two adults and a baby latching on to what was presumably the mother.  I spent some time there, transfixed...until I noticed something.

I looked closer...could this be true?  Yes, each of the adults had only one hand.  When I asked it was explained to me that a hand was cut off from the adults because they were smart enough to undo their chains, and this handicap prevented them from getting away.  The baby, however, was allowed to keep both hands because it wasn't about to leave its mother.

I was blown away by this.  Who is it that catches a monkey and cuts off a hand?  Well, it was about money.  This little village was a tourist stop for the islanders on their way to a waterfall that was a major attraction at the time.  The monkeys were there to entice the visitors to linger long enough to stop for a meal or buy some trinkets.  When I was there in 1987 for my first visit the volume of tourists had slowed to a trickle in the waning days of the attraction, but these hapless creatures were still there because they had no chance of survival were they to be released.

Very much to their credit, the authorities were eventually persuaded to crack down on this type of cruelty and passed legislation to protect the species.  Some relics of the tourism have survived, but the monkeys have since been left largely alone to proliferate in the wild.

Bookmark Project - Houston Zoo Blue Bird (animals)

Naturally animals make up another category for the bookmarks.  These are the ones that I print most as a little something to send to family or friends, and this is probably my favorite of the birds (captured at the Houston Zoo).

Before starting on this endeavor I had to ask myself whether it was a waste of time to make bookmarks.  After all, who reads hard copy books any more anyway?  Even I buy a majority of the books I read on the iPad, which is far more convenient and far less expensive.  And the younger generations surely see them as an anachronism that only oldsters play around with.

The answer would be that lots of people still do, but it definitely skews to the older generations; I feel as though those around my age (62) appreciate bookmarks more and use them for the intended purpose.  Having said that, I was surprised to learn recently that a (former) co-worker puts one of these in her cell phone case, which is clear.  She uses it to readily identify her phone among others, and stated to me that it gives her a "spark of joy" whenever she sees it.  Wow, how about that!  Even though it isn't used to mark a place in books, I was delighted to know that it's being used to make someone's day a bit better.

So there you go.  Time to start on my second 500!

Bookmark Project - Swirling Lights (abstract)

This guy was captured at my brother Bob's house at Christmastime.  Anything that has bright colors against a black background checks a big box for me...

Bookmark Project - Colorful Column (abstract) / A New Puppy

From this point forward, for the near term, I'll be posting two pictures from each area into which the bookmarks are categorized (Animals, Abstract, etc.).  Then the posts will be randomized to whatever strikes my fancy.

Probably my favorite category of bookmarks is that featuring abstracts.  In order to put something in there, I had to come up with a definition: Exactly what makes a picture abstract?  Decided that an abstract is an image that is interesting but in which one cannot identify what the subject is.

So where did this one come from?  Turns out it's a night shot taken on a cruise ship headed for the Bahamas.

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Well, today is the day.  We're leaving to pick up a nine-week-old puppy, about an hour northwest of Dallas.  Mini Australian Shepherd.  Already named her Coco (or KoKo, or CeauxCeaux, or...) In order to prepare for the rigors of puppyhood I've posted way ahead - in fact four months ahead, a record.  So by mid-February perhaps we'll have things ironed out enough to get back to a routine allowing us to follow more personal pursuits.

Interesting how it happened, considering we've never owned a dog.  Our son Andrew and his new bride, Ellen, were looking for a breed, and settled on a merle gray Mini Aussie.  We've been talking about getting a dog ourselves, but perhaps at retirement.  The pandemic changed all that, and since we're working 100% from home now it's possible to look after a four-legged family member.  That, plus some well-timed reminders from Andrew and our daughter Allison that a sibling was still available, is what tipped the scales.

It made sense to us on several levels:  our dog and Andrew's are littermates and will have the chance to visit on hopefully-frequent play dates, which will bring the added benefit of having a reason to spend more time with him and Ellen; Mini Aussies are a very active breed that need lots of exercise and intellectual stimulation, which will get us out of the house and away from screens more; and it's just good to bring more life into the house.  We are daunted at the changes we know are on the way, but excited at bringing in a new family member that we know will have a good home.

Watching our favorite TV shows probably had something to do with it, too.  In the evenings we've been alternating between Yukon Vet and The Incredible Dr. Pol on Disney streaming (which includes National Geographic), and very much like both shows.  And anyone who follows this blog knows I'm a huge fan of Alf Wight, a.k.a. James Herriott.

So there we have it.  Posts will continue uninterrupted, and in fact a re-write of the slaughterhouse series will begin this Tuesday the 20th.  Still not out taking new pictures, but bookmarks will keep the posts going for a while yet.

Bookmark Project - Spaghetti Art at UT Arlington

 

Bookmark Project - Alien Flower at UT Arlington

Called this Alien Flower in the title because it looks like it could be a space ship.  Saw one just like it in Mexico when I lived down there, and was glad to finally get the opportunity to capture one.  Much later a somewhat similar flower was posted here from a trip to the Taipei Zoo.

Bookmark Project - Purple Curls at UT Arlington

While we're there may as well post the remaining bookmarks created from our trip to Arlington.  We were there to take our son Andrew to the Welch program in July of '08, and of course I brought along the trusty Fujifilm 7000.  There was something magical about the Fuji sensors, which were proprietary to the brand and not created for any other make.

The emerging purple swirl provided such an outstanding contrast that I didn't even notice the chewed-up leaf to the right until now.  No matter...still a pretty good bookmark.

Bookmark Project - Purple Swirl at UT Arlington

Some months ago I decided to make bookmarks out of my pictures.  I've toyed with bookmarks before, going back to the days of 300 dpi laser prints from a Macintosh used for school work as a teacher.  This would have been the mid '90's.  I was proud of some of the designs, but they turned out to be little more than scraps with simple text and PostScript art.  Still have a box full of them somewhere.

But now that I have a library of well over 100,000 pictures, coupled with an exponential improvement in home printer technology, it was time to revisit the concept.  Little did I know that this would open up a whole new area for me in photography.  If I can take and post blogworthy pictures, then how much can be done with slivers of pictures?  As it turns out, much more than expected.  In a picture that, in its entirety, would not be worth much, I found that examining a photo with the dimensions chosen for bookmarks in mind (a ratio of 1.25 x 4), there is potentially much more that can be extracted.  The result has been that many, many pictures ignored for the blog up to this point now have features that can make pretty good bookmarks.  The bookmark above, captured on the campus of UT Arlington in 2008, is a case in point...much of the remainder of the original picture was junk, but this little piece can stand on its own pretty well as a bookmark.

And not only is this a good creative exercise, the concept has reaped unexpected blessings on other fronts as well.  Along with the 5x7 picture cards mentioned a few posts ago I will send the recipients a sampling of bookmarks, sometimes with a Bible verse or message to them personally.  This has taken off in a direction of its own and been very well received by church members, family and friends.  And with over 500 made so far, I can send plenty more letters and cards and keep fresh bookmarks coming to those that have received them before.

And if 500+ isn't enough, there are plenty more to make.  So far I've only gone through the pics from 2020, 2003, and most of 2008.  I am making my way slowly through every picture in every folder, and there is a long, long way to go before catching up to the present.  It's very satisfying work; in the mornings I'll crank out three or four - sometimes more - in no time and there is instant gratification.  Plus I'm reminded of good times and places that otherwise may have been forgotten.

So here's hoping that you'll enjoy looking at my new bookmark project.  If I don't snap another picture in this lifetime there is enough for years of picture posting and story telling to come...

Walk Shots - Silhouette with Tree and Bird

Another shot that I've wanted to capture for some time as we've walked our route.  This was the second or third day I carried the camera around, so Chenjean was getting a little tired of the constant stops whenever something caught my eye.  Thus I only stopped for this one for about two seconds, but think it turned out OK.

And so ends this series featuring yard and walk shots.  Think it was fairly productive.

Where will we go next?  Well, this is the COVID-19 year, so we haven't gone anywhere to take pictures.  But I have been creating bookmarks, and have 505 so far from just a fraction of my library.  Starts tomorrow...

Walk Shots - Tree with Sky

Nothing real special - just something that caught my eye.  One day I'd like to Photoshop the clouds in a shot like this to spell something or draw a picture.

Walk Shots - Brown Reeds with Darker Background

Definitely a bookmark some day featuring the guy on the left.  As stated before, an acquaintance once told me that my backgrounds are sometimes too busy, which I think is a correct statement.  Thus I'm trying to pay attention more to how the background will enhance instead of distract.

Walk Shots - Waller Park, Branch Silhouette

Many times I've walked through the park wanting to capture this image, and finally got the chance.

Walk Shots - Waller Park, Reflection Shot

Our walking route takes us through Waller Park, where this photo was captured.  The park is well maintained, so the fortunate homeowners in the houses that line the perimeter always have a nice, clean view.  And as can be seen here, big windows are featured in the back.  It's not cheap, though...the prices are naturally higher than other houses in the neighborhood.

Walk Shots - Rabbit

Chenjean pointed this guy out and wanted me to take a picture, so I did my best while overcoming the slow shutter speed from a hand-held middling lens.  Not so bad.

Related a story here about the relationship in the neighborhood between hawks and rabbits.  Seems the presence of man does not deter much from the work of nature...

Walk Shots - House Through Bridge

How could I resist taking a picture of the house through this bridge?  Slight cost, however, as Chenjean had by now lost patience with all of the stops I'd made with the Bigger Cahoona; here she is down the path, leaving me to (carefully) run in catching up:

Bookmark - Byland Tower #2

Another of the awesome towers that remain standing at the Abbey...

Walk Shots - Brown Crested Reeds

Easy to see why this pic was chosen for posting.  At least one bookmark in the works for the guy on the left...

Walk Shots - Red Thistle

This is the plant that inspired me to create a whole new family of letter templates using pictures as a background.  From a different crop of the same picture emerged the following 5x7 card:

...then from here I created another twenty templates with pictures ranging from a Seattle neighborhood to the snail pic featured in this post.  Really a fun project, and one that has, hopefully, blessed many a church member receiving the notes.

Walk Shots - White Crown

Of all the things we saw growing along the bank this is the one that would stop me the most.  The flat, UFO-like crown of the white blooms on the right was what I wanted to capture at just the right angle.  Seems I was at least partially successful in this shot...

Walk Shots - Yellow Cone Flowers

Stands to reason that these would be called cone flowers also...taken a few steps down from where yesterday's pic was taken.