I think perhaps I didn't want to go in and get another crappy picture taken so I blocked it out of my mind.
I think perhaps I didn't want someone to say, "Who are you kidding? This isn't your real weight. Come back here and step on this scale, accurate to the ounce, please." I'd rather die. Or be grounded from driving ever again. Well, almost.
Anyway, I have no valid driver's license and so I take pictures from a moving car and if I say "slow down, will you?" or, "could you just pull over here for a second?" the driver pretends deafness. A block--or a mile later--he says, "What?" And I say, "Never mind." It's better that way.
The reason I took blurry pictures of trees is because winter is the time to get the "bones" of trees so I can paint them either leafless or with leaves later, in case, just in case I EVER decide to paint again. Which may not happen.
If you want to see who ed to be my watercolor teacher go here. He moved. When he told us he was going to move I cried. I was the only one in class who cried. I'm so mature, like that. Joe Alleman is a wonderful watercolorist--makes his living painting. And lives too far away to go to a class. He's probably not teaching anyway. Why would he teach when he can sell a painting for $5,000.
So, I now take pictures of trees and pretend it's because I'm actually going to paint again, which I probably will not do but here's the trees anyway. Well, parts of trees, because when you are driving past at 35 miles and hour or 55 miles an hour or, if you are on the freeway, 75 miles an hour, you are lucky to get the trunk and part of the branches. Or blurry trees. Or empty space. I'll try not to post empty space but you're going to get blurry trees, that's for sure.
Thanks for listening to me whine. And for looking at my blurry trees. And for probably feeling sorry that I have no drivers license. And for feeling sorry for me that my real weight is not what is stated on my expired drivers license. And for feeling sorry that even the pretend weight is not a good one. And for feeling sorry for me that my watercolor teacher moved. You do feel sorry for me, don't you?
I love the trunk of the tree on the left and I almost missed it. I have no idea where it is or I would go back and take a decent picture of it. That is if Phil would slow down.
This is our local homeless man--to the left of the "no parking" sign. This is a lousy photo but the light turned green and Mr. Step-On-The-Gas was off and away. I worry about the homeless man all winter but he makes it through. Where he sleeps, I don't know. He must be happy or he would do something else. I guess. He doesn't need me to worry about him. I do it anyway.
I have more but I'm going to read blogs for only fifteen minutes--yah, right--and go to bed. Happy "don't forget to turn your clock's ahead," weekend. I'll see you tomorrow.
PS For being too tired to write I sure did use a lot of words. Thanks for feeling sorry for me because I am so wordy and now I am not in bed and will be crabby tomorrow. Oh, maybe you should feel sorry for Phil, instead, for having a crabby wife tomorrow. And other days, too.