My thoughts for Hands were varied. I thought about how much time I have lost on illness already this year, so I was wondering if I should pursue the hands of a clock. Then, this afternoon, a much more obvious one dawned one me.
The hands of my husband heal, comfort, and perform surgery, yet still take the time to have fun. I present "Husband's Hands" - holding the ball he was throwing for our dog, Joey. (And kicking AT me, not TO me, mind you, but AT me!)
And here is another. You see, before I went in the hospital, I purchased 3 jalapenos. Mexican is one of our favorites and is a true winner for my celiac disease! The problem is, one of the peppers disappeared. (JOEY!) So, Joey decided, several weeks later, she would find it, bring it to Mumma, and leave it on the floor next to the bed for Daddy to present. Here it is, in his Hands:
But what of "Season"? Should be easy enough, on a farm at least.
I thought of babies, and along came Baby Toad. (Dennis Hopper, Jr.) I apologize for the blurry post, but he was only about 1/2 an inch long and very squirmy~
And an iris leant itself an O'Keefe kind of air.
The many pictures we attempted to take of the inside of a hollowed out branch stump (where we believe birds have nested) proved in vain. And nearly got Tim a concussion and me a twisted ankle.
We'll stick to the ground, for the moment!
Enjoy ~
No comments:
Post a Comment