The cowgirl standing in the corner

I just walked into Abby's. Every day when I enter, this cowgirl is always here, standing in the corner, putting her chaps on – or maybe taking them off. It's kind of hard to tell. She looks awfully lonely, so I asked her to come and sit with me at my table and have breakfast with me - told her I'd buy the coffee. She didn't answer. She ignored me. She just stood there, quiet and stiff. So I sat down alone. I'm drinking my coffee by myself. Maybe it's because she short. She's only about 18 inches tall. Maybe this makes her self-conscious and shy, maybe she thinks it would be awkward for her to sit at a table and have everybody stare at her as they walked by. 

Text added at 10:28 AM. The Squarespace nightmare continues - 40 days and counting.

Portrait of a young hockey player, young artist

This is he, Branson Starheim, eight-year-old son of Carmen and her late husband Scot, who I promised to shoot a portrait of tonight. I didn't arrive until near the end of the game, so I did not see Branson score the first goal of a contest that ended in a tie, 2–2. He gets out there to rough it up with 10-year-olds who are much larger than him. He is also the artist who created the the brightly colored, lively, cross held in the hands of his mother in the photo I posted earlier today from Metro Cafe. I am told that at a recent game, Branson made the sign of the cross, looked up, gestured upward with his hand and then skated onto the ice to play this game for his dad, to whom he had just sent his love.

Text added at 8:57 PM. The Squarespace nightmare continues.

The daily school bus: five parked in a row, nose to tail

The Daily School Bus: this is actually from a couple of days ago, when the wind was howling and the rain was falling. I did get a couple of pictures today while I was on my coffee break, but they were more run-of-the-mill, like I have posted before. 

Text added at 5:52 PM. The Squarespace nightmare continues.

Eight year-old Branson creates a work of art

Readers who have followed my blog for a while know Carmen's son Branson well. They have seen him crawl out this window, help his dad park Metro vans and cars, they've seen him go through communion and they have seen him stand at the edge of his father's open grave to drop dirt into it. Just a few minutes ago, at the Metro Cafe drive-through window, Carmen showed me this little piece of art which she says he created in just minutes. Branson is eight. His mother was born in Mexico, his father was of Norwegian descent. Branson identifies with his late father in all ways, but right here I sure see his mother coming through.

Long time readers have also seen Branson skate onto the hockey rink at the age of six and rule the ice. He has a game tonight. I don't have enough time to take in a whole game, but I think I might stop by at the end and do a portrait of him. I do have readers now who have not met Branson before and they need to know who created this little work of art.

Text added at 4:40 PM. The Squarespace nightmare continues.

Stop sign at the top of the hill

I wasn't going to take a walk today. I was just going to sit at my computer and work. Then I had to load a new batch of photos into my Lightroom editor and I could see it was going to take a good half hour to pull them all up. Truth is, no matter what, I really need to walk. If I don't walk I fall apart. So here I am walking. My Lightroom editor will be loaded and waiting for me when I get back home. I haven't seen a school bus yet today. There's usually not too many running at this time, but a rogue bus could pass by before I get home.

Text added at 12:34 PM. The Squarespace nightmare continues.