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Duke wins! So does Butler.
The banner moves 14 miles from Chapel Hill and Coach K gets number FOUR.
However, now people around the world know about Butler and its heart.
Anybody whose NCAA Men’s basketball brackets were correct was on drugs when they made them up.
Shades of days gone by.
Back in the day when I was first aware of that thing called basketball and how it could not be separated from West Virginia and Jerry West.
Back in the late 50’s the basketball powers were teams like Richmond, Fordham, Providence and St. Johns.
Now, West Virginia University is back in next weekend’s Final Four. They did it by beating the big 3 super freshmen and the rest of the team from the higher-ranked team from the University of Kentucky. Maybe those Wildcat near sophomores will take another year of maturing before moving on to the pros.
I was born in WV and would love to see them win it all. I got most of my higher education in KY but they have a lot of banners and won’t be adding to the collection this year.
I liked the game Duke won, and I happily cheered for the Mountaineers. Michigan State got to watch.. They can’t help being yanquis, but are. Coach I ain’t Coach K.
The Butler story is also something else. It is a school 20% the size of Duke. It was started by an abolitionist and is a small school in Indianapolis. Their coach is a bright kid and they have marched so far past anyone’s expectations. Their Final Four appearance is on a court 17 minutes from their campus.
Duke’s ranking and the BD team from Durham is surprising everyone by being there – except Coach K.
The nation has to be happy with the surprising results of this year’s rounds of play. After all, the ball is still bouncing and next weekend it will bounce into another school’s history - in Durham. (c) tim www.timjohnsonphoto.com
Ah, ah, allergies!
Most people don’t notice anything but the visible yellow-green pine pollen that makes white cars and black cats turn slightly yellow for a few weeks every spring.
The sticky, aggravating stuff is the male contribution to the continuing propagation of life on the planet.
One cool fact learned on a recent National Geographic special is that the male and female parts of each and every flower mature at different times – ensuring that the pollen goes to a female plant part elsewhere to do the reproductive deed.
That’s all very well and good and it is fun to photograph flowers at all levels: normal, macro and micro.
However, for the last two days I have fought the inevitable and finally surrendered to taking my double-bladed friend, prednisone.
The enemies of my system are not the lovely flowers or the aggravating pines. My allergies that throw me into a shut down mode are the blossoming hardwoods – from the Canadian Rockies and the nearby Appalachians.
How these make me feel is much like a non-allergic person taking about 100 mg of benadryl.
That is the sleep aid in a lot of OTC medications. Add to that difficulty breathing and, this time, eyelashes matted together.
Hot fun in the early summertime!
I get to be several of the 7 dwarves at once: Sneezie, Sleepy, Dopey and, unfortunately, a little Grumpy.
Knowing that it is coming allows me to prepare my arsenal.
Knowing what is going on allows my loved ones to tolerate my fellow sufferers and me.
There will be an end to this and I will make the most of my time with my heaven-sent and Minnesota-built Alpine air purifier. The pollination orgy will finally come to an end and tree life will continue.
So will I. ã tim www.timjohnsonphoto.com
This is post number 100
and I thought it might be
fun to see if I could note
it with an article of 100 words.
Content would not be the issue
and it should be fun to read.
We have covered cameras, pens,
inks, papers, composition and
taken paths less traveled.
We have posted photos freshly
taken and dredged some from the
archives. I have tried to provide
information, inspiration and humor.
I have let you into my mind during
times of loss and exuberance.
We have much more to do and we have used 100 words.
© tim www.timjohnsonphoto.com
News came in a very 'round the globe way about the flooding in Southwest Virginia.
News footage from the area TV stations proved again a point we mountain folk knew before it was explained to us in science class.
Just as all matter seeks to distribute itself evenly throughout any available space, its corollary is that water seeks its own level.
In the narrow valleys (yep, NARROWS, VA - map coordinates: 37º20'03.92N and 80º48'32.55W this causes pretty drastic flash floods. The fragile, exposed limestone and shale hills also leach water and crumble, by the ton, onto roadways and anything else we little humans have constructed in their way.
Dry Branch is normally that. However, it is now a temporary rushing stream that has destroyed some property built in the DRY season, before it became a BRANCH a couple of days ago.
The ancient New River, reckoned to be the second oldest in the world, is pretty closely controlled by the Corps of Engineers by flood control dams. Like the Nile and the Amazon, the New River flows north. Unlike its two north-flowing sisters, the New River lives in a gorge. When the snows melt and the rains come, the river and its tributaries rise dramatically.
During a flood back in the early sixties I saw both a car and a cow washed down the out-of-control East River. I don't know which won the race.
The New River begins in Ashe County, North Carolina, flows through Virginia and into West Virginia where it joins the Gauley and becomes the Kanawah and then this flows into the Ohio, the Mississippi and into the Gulf of Mexico and on to the great oceans.
Water evaporates and the rains make their way back into the hills again renewing the cycle.
This is a long, slow journey and is one reason I want at least some of my ashes cast on the headwaters of the New River. Whoever gets to do this will have a beautiful trip and my cremains will then pass by some of the favorite places I have enjoyed during this lifetime.
If whoever takes charge of my urn or Ziplock has anything left over, I'd appreciate them being tossed onto Nicole Kidman or Halle Berry, just for the heck of it. The stuff could be ground up and made into some nice foundation for them. Call it InTIMate Skinsation.
Back to the flooding river. Because of the flooding the next few springs and summers will be especially wonderful in and along the river. Much of the trash will have been washed out of the creeks and river beds. A lot of the pollutants will have been churned loose and washed away.
Some upstream fish will have been relocated. Some trout from the hatchery up the East River will populate the stream farther down.
A cleaner river is a healthier river and the old New River is renewed once more.
People fortunate enough to live along the river simply enjoy its beauty most of the time. At times like this we all return to respect its power and the river keeps on rolling. To look at some news footage of the recent floods, go to:
http://nrvnews.com/area/weather/21593-flash-flood-warning-issued.html the county radio station's weather alert
http://www.wdbj7.com/global/story.asp?s=12135295 a Roanoke TV Station
http://snap.wsls.com/sls/snap/media_view/5146/ a photo of Old Wolf Creek Road by Connie Rogers
For most people this is an inconvenience and will be a great source of new stories. We'll wait till the water goes down to go hear them.
© tim www.timjohnsonphoto.com
There was no camera. Oh the pity.
My daughter, Elizabeth, was running an errand down a two lane road and came upon a sight that took a couple of seconds of mental adjustment.
Behind a hefty pickup truck was a trailer and in that trailer was a very large hog. Hogs need to make it to market and this was not the first time, I would think, that this method of conveyance had been used.
"Now that's a road hog", Elizabeth thought and a great story to tell just as it was. The truck was rolling slowly and the trailer was only a little wobbly.
However, everything would change drastically.
The hog, unsecured and with too much room to roam, decided to move from the front to the back of his ride.
This tipped the little trailer back and pulled the hitch away from the truck.
Elizabeth slowed down her Jeep - but her mind was racing.
The back of the trailer dug into the road and the hog fell down, but not out onto the roadway.
The pickup driver slowed and the unhitched trailer and hog passed him.
It traveled only a little way and then left the roadway and ran into the woods. The hog then left the trailer.
The last thing Elizabeth saw was a hog farmer chasing a panicked, unlicensed trailer driver into the woods. Both were mobile and she saw no real damage to either.
I don't know of any great life lessons to be drawn from this experience except when moving a big hog, make sure that it can't cause a wreck, injure itself or others.
That would be a big waste of bacon, ribs and sausage.
Too bad that there wasn't a camera, but you have to love Elizabeth's funny hog story. © tim www.timjohnsonphoto.com
This past weekend my youngest grandchild turned 1 year old.
In this day and age this is not so remarkable, but in times past, infant mortality was such that to make it to the one-year mark was quite significant.
Tanner is a tiny little lad, but he does not know it. He is bouncier than Tigger and is a charmer with big blue eyes and a ready smile for just about anyone.
He is a Momma's boy. Elizabeth sort of enjoys that honor but is looking for the day that Tanner will easily share his company with others.
He stands, bounces and almost takes off walking, that is until he thinks about it and then he settles back down to the floora firma.
He is just as happy with packaging or his presents as he is with the electronics or the other things that came inside the boxes. He knows that buttons on the cable box, Wii, PS3, DVD, Alayna's assorted electronics and Craven's more advanced toys will get the whole family agitated and moving in his direction. He just knows that his action gets a BIG reaction.
He is a picky eater and still picks Mommy first. Cereals and other toddler tempting items are acknowledged but don't really pique his interest.
In some regards he is following his brother's example as a pass by eater. Craven snacks on things that are available on the edge of the table or counter.
So what if they grow up to be McEaters? Walk by and drive through are always going to be a part of their busy lives.
He is surrounded by older siblings and cousins – and a couple of dogs.
He has tried all their food – and McMom is still the best.
For me, the very best part of this young man is that he is not shy of the camera. I use the flash as little as possible and try to catch him in his natural cuteness.
His skin is flawless and he has the most beautiful eyes complete with long lashes. He share these with his Mommy, Auntie, sister and cousin Britni.
He hasn't figured out sleeping through the night, but that is a bit of revenge since his mother did not sleep through the night till she was 14 months old.
Tanner has been making the most of his days even without the benefit of Daylight Savings Time.
One of these days he will choose his own clothes. He will decide his favorite foods and even if he will be a fan of UNC, Duke, NC State or William and Mary. He will choose favorite colors, friends and books. He will gravitate toward certain subjects and worry his mother when he starts noticing girls.
Bless the mothers of all the girls in the Triangle.
Tanman is on his way. Five floppy steps at a time. © tim www.timjohnsonphoto.com
Springtime and your mind turns to making writing boards. That's right,it's just been so cold that woodworking has taken a backseat to the basic art of staying warm.
Now, with some warm days in sight, I can finally rip and finish some very precious wood into the most basic of writing tools.
My brother Clark manufactures storage buildings from cypress, a warm and beautifully grained wood that needs no additional finish – even if you want to leave your wood to the elements.
These cypress pieces are leftovers from his big projects, but suit my writing board dimensions just fine.
As any calligrapher knows, none of the fine lettering hands was developed on a flat surface. Angled writing desks provide comfort for the writer and the ability for the scribe to see what their nibs are doing. Plus, the angle of the board can be adjusted to balance with the viscosity of the writing fluid.
The standard boards are 18x24 inches and collapse to about 2 inches deep.
I sell the basic boards with 3/16 Plexiglas® for $60 plus shipping.
These cypress boards will be $80 plus shipping.
I can make smaller boards and bigger boards – but they are custom projects and their cost runs from $75-120 just because it takes so much more time to construct them – and the Plexiglas® has to be custom cut.
My flowers enjoy the sawdust and I enjoy giving new calligraphers the tool that really sets them apart from those that will struggle on flat surfaces,
Of course you can put a CFL bulb behind the plexi and make this a great trace and copy board.
Need a writing board? Let me know.
Got a writing board, ink, pens and a desire to write? Get your stuff out of the closet and get back to it. Let me know if I can coach you into making more and better letters. © tim www.timjohnsonphoto.com
Sure enough, signs of Spring!
The rebud buds are about to pop and the anemones are already strutting their stuff - as much as much as a flower flatter than moss can strut its stuff.
We walk and talk quietly around these little flowers because they are as big as they can be and they are doing all they can do. We just appreciate the fact that the ground temperature is high enough and that there is enough sunlight to make the little bulbs announce the arrival of Spring.
PLUS, on Sunday we get our hour of evening light back. Daylight Savings Time arrives and we have some more LIGHT at the close of the day.
The idea of daylight saving was first conceived by Benjamin Franklin during his sojourn as an American delegate in Paris in 1784, in an essay, An Economical Project.
Some of Franklin's friends, inventors of a new kind of oil lamp, were so taken by the scheme that they continued corresponding with Franklin even after he returned to America.
The idea was first advocated seriously by London builder William Willett (1857-1915) in the pamphlet, Waste of Daylight (1907), that proposed advancing clocks 20 minutes on each of four Sundays in April, and retarding them by the same amount on four Sundays in September. As he was taking an early morning a ride through Petts Wood, near Croydon, Willett was struck by the fact that the blinds of nearby houses were closed, even though the sun was fully risen. When questioned as to why he didn't simply get up an hour earlier, Willett replied with typical British humor, "What?" In his pamphlet "The Waste of Daylight" he wrote:
Everyone appreciates the long, light evenings. Everyone laments their shortage as Autumn approaches; and everyone has given utterance to regret that the clear, bright light of an early morning during Spring and Summer months is so seldom seen or used.
Not everyone is taken with the idea of the value of more sunlight at the end of the day. You have to love this comment made in 1947:
I don't really care how time is reckoned so long as there is some agreement about it, but I object to being told that I am saving daylight when my reason tells me that I am doing nothing of the kind. I even object to the implication that I am wasting something valuable if I stay in bed after the sun has risen. As an admirer of moonlight I resent the bossy insistence of those who want to reduce my time for enjoying it. At the back of the Daylight Saving scheme I detect the bony, blue-fingered hand of Puritanism, eager to push people into bed earlier, and get them up earlier, to make them healthy, wealthy and wise in spite of themselves. (Robertson Davies, The Diary of Samuel Marchbanks, 1947, XIX, Sunday.)
To find out how the world participates in DST just hop on over to www.timeanddate.com.
I think it is just more fun in the summertime! © tim www.timjohnsonphoto.com
