tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56940928332508720122024-02-20T22:58:08.284-08:00Lizzie FlowerLizzie Flowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12359412560617441373noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694092833250872012.post-66881153450488998032020-02-20T21:12:00.000-08:002020-02-20T21:12:00.858-08:00Fort Churchill - Every Photo Has a Story Behind It<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZLsEYz_rKz1uwHzCb9ZR1XWrAd3Had6UwQ7OK-2CT2K5rdXonq9O0liWos-n3FfG5NWu1oqfDYvC7rRu9o2Jy0iRg9iFf117tIAC_6bQViNkhJVT0sIWO5DQqbayewwPpUW0Ze_wdAKs/s1600/Fort+Churchill+Star+Trails.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1500" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZLsEYz_rKz1uwHzCb9ZR1XWrAd3Had6UwQ7OK-2CT2K5rdXonq9O0liWos-n3FfG5NWu1oqfDYvC7rRu9o2Jy0iRg9iFf117tIAC_6bQViNkhJVT0sIWO5DQqbayewwPpUW0Ze_wdAKs/s640/Fort+Churchill+Star+Trails.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Every photo has a story behind it and this one is a doozy.<br />
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When I told a friend that I wanted to do some astrophotography at the Fort Churchill ruins they told me, "Be careful, that place is haunted."<br />
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I don't believe in haunted places but I can tell you that after what happened to us I have to wonder if the place is cursed.<br />
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One night I was acting particularly bored and my husband asked me what I wanted to do. I told him I wanted to go to Fort Churchill and shoot star trails.<br />
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This wouldn't be such a big deal but it was nearly 8:00 pm, the sun was going to be setting in an hour and we live over 30 miles away from the Fort Churchill Historical Park.<br />
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The fact is that there is a short period of time once a month where the skies are dark and the moon is gone so you can get dark sky photos of the Milky Way and I was tired of waiting. When the moon is out, you can turn the camera towards the North Star and get some impressive star trails. In fact, this is when I prefer star trails because the colors of the stars are deeper and the illumination on the subject is better.<br />
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My intention was to take a few foreground shots with some light painting, set up the intervalometer and sleep in the car for a couple of hours while the camera took a huge batch of photos. When I woke up I was going to fetch the camera and go home to finish sleeping and then process the shot later but as with most well laid plans, the ghosts of Fort Churchill and the mosquitos of the high desert had more nefarious plans.<br />
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By the time we arrived at the park the sun had already dropped below the horizon so I set out to frame my shot and get the foreground subject shots taken before I lost all the light.<br />
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This is usually a relaxing and wonderful time when you sit and watch the moon rise, the sun set and enjoy the desert evening while you wait for the sky to be dark enough to just click the shutter on your camera.<br />
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Everything went well for a very small amount of time when we began to hear the humming of the million or more mosquitos that had found their way to us. It was absolutely miserable and if you are someone who knows me, you can bet I wasn't wearing more than shorts and a t-shirt since I even wear shorts during the winter and this was mid-June. The mosquitos were having a heyday!<br />
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For nearly an hour those mosquitoes feasted on us and I was so irritated and exhausted of swatting them away that I decided we had the subject shots we needed (mostly I was just tired of the mosquitos) so I sat up the intervalometer and we ran to the car.<br />
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My plan was to saturate the sky with an entire loop of star trails which takes hundreds of photos. I normally set the intervalometer for the shutter to stay open 30 seconds every one second so basically you are taking two long exposure shots a minute.<br />
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This meant 120 shots an hour and I was hoping to get nearly 400 shots.<br />
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I had brought a blow up mattress, blanket and earplugs and my husband planned to sit up in the front seat and sleep there.<br />
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About two minutes into our respite we heard a rumble in the distance and soon we were bombarded with the sound of helicopter blades and the bright flashes of a search light.<br />
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I had two major concerns:<br />
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1. The light the helicopter was flashing their light on my subject and blowing my shots<br />
2. The dust it was throwing up was going to cover my camera and exposed lens to dust<br />
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We gritted our teeth and sat waiting to see just how long the helicopter was planning to stay.<br />
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During the first half hour of watching the helicopter fly in a grid pattern over the entire area we talked about what they might be looking for. Could it be a lost hiker, lost kayaker? After all, there was a river at the bottom of the park. My husband thought they might be doing drills.<br />
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We started to make up stories of an escaped prisoner and how unsafe we might be if the desperado decided to force us out of our vehicle and leave us stranded in the desert.<br />
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I have to admit that the prisoner fantasy was mine, not my husbands. He was pretty sure we were safe from escaped criminals.<br />
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After another long period of lights and noise my husband turned to me and asked, "So, what do you want to do Flower?"<br />
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I shrugged my shoulders and said what the heck, "Lets just wait it out and see what we get."<br />
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I finally fell asleep and eventually, who knows when, the helicopter left.<br />
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My alarm went off three hours later and I woke up to retrieve the camera.<br />
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With all the gear loaded and my husband driving us out of the park I couldn't help but take a peek at the photos to see how many had been effected by the lights and dust. If I could see light interference on the image I would be able to estimate what time the helicopter left.<br />
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To my utter shock and despair I found that the intervalometer had failed and rather than being rewarded with the 100's of shots I was expecting, I found that the camera only took 40 shots. That means that it failed in the first 20 minutes.<br />
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After returning home, taking a nap and starting processing I was incredibly happy with the results of this image.<br />
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I'm actually glad I didn't get all the shots because I would not have ended up with this composition and I certainly wouldn't have reduced my photo count to 40 if I had hundreds available.<br />
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What a happy circumstance!!!<br />
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In case you want to know my camera settings:<br />
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Nikon D7500<br />
Tokina AT-X 116 PRO DX 11-16mm f2.8<br />
ISO 400 (Remember it was a full moon)<br />
11mm<br />
f/2.8<br />
30 Second Shutter<br />
Stack of 41 photos for the star trails processed in Photoshop<br />
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The subject (the building) was a stack of two photos<br />
ISO 400<br />
F/2.8<br />
96 Second Shutter<br />
In only one of the two photos I did light painting from behind the building.<br />
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For more photos and stories, check out my website at <b><a href="http://www.lizzieflower.com/">www.lizzieflower.com</a></b> </div>
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Follow me:</div>
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Peace and Love,</div>
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Lizzie </div>
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<br />Lizzie Flowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12359412560617441373noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694092833250872012.post-6079416877916088292019-12-18T14:42:00.000-08:002019-12-18T14:42:26.760-08:00What's in a Name - "Odinman" A story about Barrett Odin; My Great Nephew<h2 style="text-align: center;">
"What's in a name?"</h2>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4kD7foaze3wMBkaEKvLjjqQVy3vyijrYFYhGFRBujOpm0G0d9nQelGT4vkumPCWIejP-VgTyj074vaaoJ78DvwcUcyNh3AP48YzgkAtVSE6OLQsGn-oaVL5r__XX57yg54pMbuz3-rpI/s1600/Barrett+Odin+1st+Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1280" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4kD7foaze3wMBkaEKvLjjqQVy3vyijrYFYhGFRBujOpm0G0d9nQelGT4vkumPCWIejP-VgTyj074vaaoJ78DvwcUcyNh3AP48YzgkAtVSE6OLQsGn-oaVL5r__XX57yg54pMbuz3-rpI/s320/Barrett+Odin+1st+Edit.jpg" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Odinman"</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">”</span><b style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">What's in a name</b><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">? That which we call a rose by any other </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">name</span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34);"> would smell as sweet” - Wm Shakespeare; Romeo and Juliet</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34);">What exactly did our friend Billy Shakespeare mean by this saying in his famed play Romeo and Juliet?</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34);">This quote is rather profound and suggests that names don't hold any worth or meaning and they are just labels to tell one thing or person from another. In the play, Juliet says this to Romeo to say that even if he had a different name, he would still be the man she loves.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34);">To my darling Barrett Odin; No matter what your name would be I would love you the same but your mom and dad chose a really kick ass name!</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34);">I love it and I have since the minute he was born in December 2018. He came early, extremely and dangerously early and was required to spend a lot of time in the NICU or as they call it, "The Nick-U". </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34);">When I heard of his arrival, I waited a few weeks because I wanted to make sure he was strong enough for visitors and I flew the 1,300 miles to Nebraska to meet my new nephew.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34);">He was so tiny and delicate but he was strong and I could tell that he would live up to the strength of his name because when you are named after the Norse God of Wisdom, Magic and Death; you've got something going for you.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">When Barrett was getting close to his first birthday I found myself back in Nebraska and meeting him all over again. By now he is pulling himself up to furniture, making funny noises and showing a lot of personality. I started to visualize a photoshoot of him depicted as his namesake Odin and I felt a plan start to come together.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Shortly before I left Nebraska to return to Reno I met Barrett Odin and his momma Kelsey in Lake Manawa, Iowa and with the help of my daughter Whitney, I took this shot of him in the middle of a wooded area.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">It was terribly cold and windy but the light was great since it was cloud covered and I didn't have to contend with harsh shadows. I was </span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34);">optimistic that this was going to come together nicely especially since the star of the show was a sweet, patient and tolerable sweet little boy. I think I got 10 good shots in before we had to call it a wrap.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">His mom is very crafty, in fact she has a thing called "Kelsey's Krafts" and you should check it out on Facebook. She made the Superman emblem with an O instead of the S for "Odinman" which is what I named the photograph.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">When I came back from Nebraska I had to take an immediate hiatus because of some minor surgery then finally picked up the project hoping to get it done before his first birthday.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">I immediately did not like the background and decided that I would need to create a new background and also get pictures of a few other components of the composition like a spear and ravens.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">First of all, I needed to find a spear that resembled the spear Odin took into war. The spear's name is Gungnir and was fashioned by elves. This spear is special as it was told that it never missed it's mark. I knew I needed to find an appropriate and fabulous spear to take a picture of and that's the first place I failed. I finally had to use a stock photo which I manipulated to the nth degree since I could not find an actual spear close enough to being as cool as Odin's spear.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Second of all, I needed photos of Ravens. Odin had two ravens named Huginn and Muninn and these ravens would spy on Odin's enemies and bring their secrets back to him which I think is pretty cool.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Now, living in Nevada I see ravens all over the place and I was certain that this would be an easy part of the process but as fate would have it, I didn't see a raven for the next several weeks even though I carried my camera everywhere.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">I went on a hike one day with a group and the woman leading said, "Don't be surprised if we see a lot of ravens on this hike". We didn't see one, not even one </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">so again, I had to resort to a stock photo of a raven.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Odin had an eyepatch since he traded his eye to drink from a well that gave him knowledge of the universe but I opted to leave it out. Odin also had two wolves Geri and Freki that I decided to omit since the thought of finding wolves to photograph did not sound appealing at all.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">So there I was with all my components and I set them out on my Photoshop canvas and again realized that I hated the background so after thumbing through all my photos and not finding one that I loved, I decided to use another stock photo for the background.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34);">In a nutshell, the only part of this photograph that I took was Barrett and that is it. As I get the components together I will replace them with my own original work but until then, this is the result of my work.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4kD7foaze3wMBkaEKvLjjqQVy3vyijrYFYhGFRBujOpm0G0d9nQelGT4vkumPCWIejP-VgTyj074vaaoJ78DvwcUcyNh3AP48YzgkAtVSE6OLQsGn-oaVL5r__XX57yg54pMbuz3-rpI/s1600/Barrett+Odin+1st+Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1280" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4kD7foaze3wMBkaEKvLjjqQVy3vyijrYFYhGFRBujOpm0G0d9nQelGT4vkumPCWIejP-VgTyj074vaaoJ78DvwcUcyNh3AP48YzgkAtVSE6OLQsGn-oaVL5r__XX57yg54pMbuz3-rpI/s320/Barrett+Odin+1st+Edit.jpg" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">AFTER</td></tr>
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I'm really happy with the way this turned out and when you ask, "What's in a Name?" Just ask this tough little guy here. Aunt Liz loves you Barrett Odin and by any other name I would love you the same.</div>
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If you want to see my SmugMug website where the photo is in full resolution please click <a href="https://lizzieflower.smugmug.com/organize/Fantasy-Photography/i-dN7XqDG" target="_blank">here</a>. </div>
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<div style="caret-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.847059); font-family: Times; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
For more photos and stories, check out my website at <b><a href="http://www.lizzieflower.com/">www.lizzieflower.com</a></b> </div>
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Follow me:</div>
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Instagram @thelizzieflower</div>
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Twitter @lizzieflower</div>
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Snapchat (I don't do Snapchat because it's for children and I don't like it)</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.847059); font-family: Times; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
Peace and Love,</div>
<div style="caret-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.847059); font-family: Times; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
Lizzie </div>
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Lizzie Flowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12359412560617441373noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694092833250872012.post-79181592492650180392019-09-03T10:41:00.000-07:002019-12-20T17:52:03.570-08:00Hawthorne, NV Yacht Club<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7JhKcnmde3y2JSlbCDtisrDb4Svi23QXOlQvVxODcymDH3mBwvvRSGDs0t46zgY_IizWGcSgA3bAJ4lsv6roWz576kX20vFL46s55Hofhuehto33UqhWFt38s-PGlrSbew082C5Lxhjw/s1600/Carp+Boat+Milky+Way+01-LARGE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7JhKcnmde3y2JSlbCDtisrDb4Svi23QXOlQvVxODcymDH3mBwvvRSGDs0t46zgY_IizWGcSgA3bAJ4lsv6roWz576kX20vFL46s55Hofhuehto33UqhWFt38s-PGlrSbew082C5Lxhjw/s320/Carp+Boat+Milky+Way+01-LARGE.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Hawthorne, NV Yacht Club"</td></tr>
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<span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica";"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-size: 12px;">See the UPDATE at the end, I was able to get info on the history of this boat.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica";"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-size: 12px;">Last weekend the Milky Way was in full bloom. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica";"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-size: 12px;">I had some photography friends that I love invite us to Bodie, CA for some night shots which I wasn’t exactly excited about because everyone goes there to get their astrophotography and when you are there you are competing with 25 other photographers with their flashlights and flood lights. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica";"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-size: 12px;">I prefer to find obscure subjects that no one else is capturing instead of producing "another" nightscape of the same old commercialized Ghost Town.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica";"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-size: 12px;">It sounds terrible and mean but the truth is that I like the people a lot and decided that I would relax and simply be there to enjoy their company if nothing else. He is the man I credit with my ability to go off Auto or Aperture on my camera and operate on full manual. He is an amazing photographer.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">We took the side-by-side and headed there early in hopes of doing some exploring in the back country. Jim's parents had actually lived in Bodie in the 1930's. We would love to know which house it was and if it's still standing so if you have a way of looking that info up, we would appreciate it. Jim was taken to the house once when he was young in the 1940's or early 1950's but he can't remember much of it. He mostly remembers that they were visiting a guy who still lived there and of that he only remembers that the guy had a water barometer on the table that Jim thought was really cool.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica";"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-size: 12px;">As we approached Bodie we saw a haze forming on the horizon and started to realize that it was growing larger the closer we got. At one point in the distance to the south we could see that there was a large fire in Lee Vining on the other side of Mono Lake and the air was filled with smoke and soot obscuring the Milky Way "YAY!" oops, I mean “Bummer”. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica";"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-size: 12px;">We were first to arrive and since it was only 3:00 and sunset is at 8:30 I called my friends to tell them about the fire. Fortunately, they hadn’t left Reno yet. I told them it was a bust and to not come. Then I called another photography friend who I knew was also going to Bodie and told her about the smoke. I was glad I was able to save my Reno friend the trouble of driving 111 miles to find that they could even get the shots.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica";"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-size: 12px;">My other friend was eating burgers in Lee Vining so we drove over there to get gas and at the restaurant, I jumped out of the car and ran in to surprise her.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica";"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-size: 12px;">It was a great surprise, her boyfriend doesn't know me and has never met me so I quietly walked in the restaurant, walked over to the booth they were sitting in and quietly sat down beside her. John, her boyfriend watched me the whole time with the funniest blank look on his face. When she finally looked up she was so surprised and we hugged and laughed.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica";"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-size: 12px;">She knows I'm a burger snob and immediately asked me if I wanted a bite which is </span></span></span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "helvetica";"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-size: 12px;">testament to our fast friendship. It's like we've known each other our entire lives.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">I told her of the smoke and she explained to me the dynamics of the wind and the smoke and that she was fairly certain that the smoke was not an issue. I just smiled and let her talk but I was certain that my experience in those hills was accurate; there would be no clear Milky Way shots in Bodie, CA that night.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">Jim pulled up in front of the building and I hopped in the car, “I bet you $5,000 she goes to Bodie anyway”</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">He asked where I wanted to go and I said east, away from the smoke and to some dark skies. If nothing else, I would simply take pictures of the Milky Way in it’s full glory.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">I knew of an abandoned boat somewhere on the shore of Walker Lake which is quite a generalization since Walker Lake is about 20 miles long but since we had no formal plans we let that knowledge lead us to Walker Lake, NV, over 50 miles to the east and north a bit.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">About an hour later I sent the friend in Lee Vining a text and asked her if she’d driven over to Bodie anyways since I was fairly certain she would have to see for herself. The Bodie Hills are a cellular dead zone so I told her, “If I don’t hear from you I will assume you have gone back to Bodie to see for yourself”</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">Sure enough, she had gone back there and turned around. She sent me a text, “Busted, I had to go see for myself and we turned around due to smoke” I was actually kind of relieved since I would have felt bad if she’d gone anyway and got fabulous shots. How would I explain that to the other friends I had called in Reno and turned away?</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">It was about 6:30 by the time we found a road that even went around the lake (thanks Google Maps) so we off loaded the side-by-side and my camera equipment and started toward the lake.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">After about 45 minutes of driving it was apparent that we would not be able to get to the lake shore let alone find an old abandoned boat since there was a railroad track between us and the lake. I hadn't entered a railroad track barrier into our <span style="background-color: white;">calculations so it started to look like we would not be getting anywhere close to the shore. I had already relaxed and decided to just have fun. The goal now was to pay attention to all Jim’s turns so we could get out of this remote area in the dark and in the middle of the night.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: purple;">At a weird intersection where you could barely tell that another road went left, Jim asked me if I wanted to turn off the road we were on. I stared at the road that obviously didn't cross the raised railroad tracks and I told him, “Why not, let’s just have some fun exploring out here.”</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: purple;">After driving a while, we saw a truck by the lake shore kicking up some dust and that gave us hope that we could at least find our way down there at some point in time. </span><span style="color: purple;">I could see a structure of some kind in the distance and pointed it out to Jim. It looked to be a semi trailer that had been abandoned although I had no idea how they would have gotten a semi down these sandy remote roads.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: purple;">By watching the truck, we were able to find a small narrow road that crossed the railroad track and we headed down. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: purple;">We met the truck, gave a kind wave and drove on to the thing we thought was a trailer. About a football field away from it we realized that it was the boat I’d heard about.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: purple;">The sun was just above the mountain range near Mount Grant so we quickly set up the equipment and the chairs to sit in while we waited.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: purple;">I was so excited and felt overwhelmingly fortunate to have found this needle in a haystack. The circumstances that led us to this boat were ridiculous and we spent the next half hour gushing about our luck.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">I could hardly believe we had cell reception but I got a call from the friends in Reno, they had also gone to Bodie and agreed that the smoke was too much. I have spent years suspecting that no one listens to a thing I say and this evening was proof of that. They asked where we had gone and I told them our route. They wanted to come back to where we were but I explained to them that the road was 4 wheel drive only and it would have taken them over two hours to get to us. Civil Twilight was about to start so I knew they would never have made it in time, even if the road wasn’t so terrible and remote.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">When the sun set over the mountain and all that remained was the small sliver of moon we sat in silence and enjoyed the peace around us. </span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">That is until…..</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">I started to hear a roar of high pitched sound that kept growing louder and louder. Jim didn’t hear it but I was certain I wasn’t mistaken. We hadn’t seen any insects and since there was a breeze I was pretty certain the mosquitos would have left us alone but this sounded like a swarm of insects was headed our way. I continued to listen and realized that this was not the sound of wings buzzing, this was the vocalization of a swarm of bats.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">Jim didn’t believe me till the first bat showed up at our little campsite and fortunately, they dissipated and got busy eating insects. I have way too much hair to be comfortable with a swarm of bats in the area.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">That drama was averted and we sat in our chairs to relax and wait but as soon as Nautical Twilight began we heard the first howls. A few seconds later, we heard the second set of howls and uncomfortably closer than the first.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica";"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-size: 12px;">This went on for several minutes and it was apparent that some coyotes were coming to see what we were up to. It seemed that our fortune was limited to the finding of boats since it looked like we may have been in the accidental path of their hunt. I finally stopped, stood up and started making noise and moving around. Jim thought I was nuts but I had imagined a coyote coming up and grabbing me in the neck as I sat all comfy in our rocking lawn chairs. After shining my light into the open desert for a few minutes, they finally went away and we didn’t hear them again for the rest of the time we were there but I'm pretty certain that they were keeping an eye on us.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica";"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-size: 12px;">This is the draw back of finding dark skies for </span></span></span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "helvetica";"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-size: 12px;">astrophotography, you are sitting in pitch black conditions.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">The Milky Way came out as predicted and it was stunning. Jim light painted as I took photos and we hung out there for the next four hours. </span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">When I was done, we had to try to find our way out in the pitch black. </span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">It took an hour and 15 minutes to drive the 17 miles back to the car. Fortunately I have hiking apps on my phone and I turned it on when we made the first turn off the main backroad. We were able to follow that recorded trail back to the main road but even with that, Jim made a few wrong turns.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica";"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-size: 12px;">Just make sure that if you decide to go on an adventure like this that you are prepared to vacate the area in the dark. You don't want to have to spend the night out there, it can get cold in the desert at </span></span></span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "helvetica";"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-size: 12px;">night and the fauna can be a bit hostile.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: "helvetica";"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-size: 12px;">We were done and had the side-by-side loaded about 2:00am so w</span></span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">e got a hotel and stayed in Hawthorne, NV the rest of the night . </span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Since we are gluttons for punishment we stayed out another night and moved further east about 50 miles to another ghost town for some more night shots. </span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">I processed my first photo and we are thrilled with the result. This is a composition of 25 shots that are stacked and merged to give the photo depth and definition and reduce visual noise.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">I'm offering the printed photo for sale on my website www.lizzieflower.com or my SmugMug account by clicking <a href="https://lizzieflower.smugmug.com/AstroPhotography/i-zXvRp3w/A" target="_blank">here</a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13;">For more photos and stories, check out my website at <b><a href="http://www.lizzieflower.com/">www.lizzieflower.com</a></b> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13;">Follow me:</span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13;">Instagram @thelizzieflower</span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13;">Twitter @lizzieflower</span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13;">Snapchat (I don't do Snapchat because it's for children and I don't like it)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13;">Peace and Love,</span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13;">Lizzie </span></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">UPDATE:</span><br />
<span style="color: purple;">Thanks to Facebook and the fact that I posted the photo on a page that shares photos; a woman named Patricia C commented on the photo with a question wondering how I found the boat in the dark. I assured her it was still light out and she confirmed that it's even hard to find in the daylight.</span><br />
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<span style="color: purple;">She informed me that it was once a barge that went from Smith Valley to Walker (or so she has been told)</span><br />
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<span style="color: purple;">The barge is estimated to have been abandoned between 1928 into the 1930's when the railroad tracks were installed. With the use of railcars they of course abandoned the barge.</span><br />
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<span style="color: purple;">She also told me that the lake level was once 110' and is now 65' which explains the massive amount of shoreline you have to navigate to find the boat in the first place.</span><br />
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Lizzie Flowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12359412560617441373noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694092833250872012.post-5532167118999752002019-04-17T12:15:00.001-07:002019-04-17T12:15:52.862-07:00A Salty Sad Story and the Threat of ExtinctionOn our 4th and last day visiting Death Valley, CA our only goal was to drive the 27 mile one way trip through Titus Canyon and to visit the abandoned Ghost Town of Leadfield near the middle of the route.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgazH2k97Fq4zIyWS1zykptXGZjnU4PDzfi7Bf-XEyKsMsWE7kOMIILOYlmHwHBX4XXC77TWYR7Q64ssCFu3tWIkV1WgCdbrtd-YYIl3elHtHHYm4DgNnaX4GU9qV_aU5HTYQFxSKoVTZg/s1600/IMG_9354.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgazH2k97Fq4zIyWS1zykptXGZjnU4PDzfi7Bf-XEyKsMsWE7kOMIILOYlmHwHBX4XXC77TWYR7Q64ssCFu3tWIkV1WgCdbrtd-YYIl3elHtHHYm4DgNnaX4GU9qV_aU5HTYQFxSKoVTZg/s320/IMG_9354.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We saw this beautiful rock formation <br />right before the heavy driving began</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK5gLqiHxXN_w5oesCM8DzwTAAm0wZ5Edv-cKO4VcFHOTb4KZmKkfLmJr2-pL67hBwYCFt8M5WCaG4MVnJEpfdhlSTlUoITIquJojiDywNG-nwELgtQ_RmClawHUiaPR6nDAnCY28gw7o/s1600/IMG_9350.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK5gLqiHxXN_w5oesCM8DzwTAAm0wZ5Edv-cKO4VcFHOTb4KZmKkfLmJr2-pL67hBwYCFt8M5WCaG4MVnJEpfdhlSTlUoITIquJojiDywNG-nwELgtQ_RmClawHUiaPR6nDAnCY28gw7o/s320/IMG_9350.jpeg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sign at the beginning of Titus Canyon Road<br />Mostly scary warnings</td></tr>
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If you find yourself in Death Valley you must do this drive. If you visit the canyon from the valley side you will miss the best part of it.<br />
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The drive that began with a winding road perched precariously on the ledges of steep mountains tested my driving skills but our trusty 2005 Jeep Wrangler who I lovingly call "Felipe the Jeep" did a great job. My husband in the passenger side faired well also even though it was hard for him to not be at the wheel and to trust his wife to stay on the narrow and rocky roads.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBiZK-ctiqvRShhbA3yzFlgza8QURPeuQ0t3PnkwQVWiYdEF3hFGVDpiRjDhRYFJxHKB1A1hSR7Gh9SbUCpfa_WDhjHStTfNGucwQgov7D3Wor-JGmPAlmK-eYmwZJZgNuPVYNlPjQhcs/s1600/DSC_3650.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBiZK-ctiqvRShhbA3yzFlgza8QURPeuQ0t3PnkwQVWiYdEF3hFGVDpiRjDhRYFJxHKB1A1hSR7Gh9SbUCpfa_WDhjHStTfNGucwQgov7D3Wor-JGmPAlmK-eYmwZJZgNuPVYNlPjQhcs/s320/DSC_3650.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Leadfield sign, a sad warning to the gullible,<br />who seeks fast and easy money.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoAlKi0tgA-omZF8zgL5zd39GFrQpcr9nOZbEbTolstvKaRdh-doCIy35z3ZQF2bHCoI8xFROM1igMdIHkvHjt05IvUhyphenhyphenOrgGgug-Fk3pVwMJJ8NDjb_kNvmUrK2671-uZUBp9BJmDPQ4/s1600/DSC_3607.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoAlKi0tgA-omZF8zgL5zd39GFrQpcr9nOZbEbTolstvKaRdh-doCIy35z3ZQF2bHCoI8xFROM1igMdIHkvHjt05IvUhyphenhyphenOrgGgug-Fk3pVwMJJ8NDjb_kNvmUrK2671-uZUBp9BJmDPQ4/s320/DSC_3607.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view of Leadfield from the opposing hillside</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR4jeYktCiiJfOYS40smo8N9DXZTEipq7sx2Uk8R7RefzcxtpKrit8k0maNx-7IQyp8G6O5jEXZ7KyuG3otL-kI2nnVjXKtmEIvjxYA6s-ofPMjePqNLlpyNkHAswd_2OQybChQt8g8es/s1600/DSC_3680.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1350" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR4jeYktCiiJfOYS40smo8N9DXZTEipq7sx2Uk8R7RefzcxtpKrit8k0maNx-7IQyp8G6O5jEXZ7KyuG3otL-kI2nnVjXKtmEIvjxYA6s-ofPMjePqNLlpyNkHAswd_2OQybChQt8g8es/s320/DSC_3680.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The colorful view west and just left of center is the slot <br />path out of the canyon</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwcEBOCYFsibzbwAAW59rlIscC2EfhutlHT6eyooXdnJa70hDAp9WZl7ZbQ4NTLumTfn4WitFnGkvMU6Hcy5hBmWpqAOthDTl2OwCqZeozmOVjysgl4y8jZWGGK1kH4Pm5Kr0SjkE_6qI/s1600/DSC_3600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwcEBOCYFsibzbwAAW59rlIscC2EfhutlHT6eyooXdnJa70hDAp9WZl7ZbQ4NTLumTfn4WitFnGkvMU6Hcy5hBmWpqAOthDTl2OwCqZeozmOVjysgl4y8jZWGGK1kH4Pm5Kr0SjkE_6qI/s320/DSC_3600.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The colorful view east of the mountain ledges we had<br />arrived on</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaulAjqzuQ5YUge1O6t32iFsZlXBi9NbbBZdW8F7LsKBVTBuVacpA0mlFujvMBgQv6a1KtQALVcdY_2eQd3sM4zWWFxoDqJZPyS40gBUBt9VQvyCa9VYCVBduHZK8ySwY8PWaN8JKpZwA/s1600/IMG_9355.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaulAjqzuQ5YUge1O6t32iFsZlXBi9NbbBZdW8F7LsKBVTBuVacpA0mlFujvMBgQv6a1KtQALVcdY_2eQd3sM4zWWFxoDqJZPyS40gBUBt9VQvyCa9VYCVBduHZK8ySwY8PWaN8JKpZwA/s320/IMG_9355.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking through the canyon, this picture does<br />no justice, the walls were hundreds of feet high</td></tr>
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Even though we took our time and enjoyed every minute of the drive it ended all too soon and we were left with several hours of daylight to burn up.<br />
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It was shortly after lunch time and we were hungry so we decided to find a place to eat some dehydrated food in our JetBoil. Remembering that Mesquite Springs was a dozen miles up the road to the right, we set our sights on lunch on a picnic table in this popular camp site.<br />
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Upon our arrival we discovered that this particular area of the park was closed for some unknown reason. We weren't sure if it was a result of the 2015 flood that nearly destroyed the area around Scotty's Castle or something else but there we were, hungry and looking for a place to cook in Death Valley.<br />
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There was a ranger station up the road a bit and even though there weren't any picnic tables, there was a nice cool ledge for me to cook on and to sit in the cool dry breeze and eat.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgYE-TOD2oUUdybhFL5w0y7YquvcZNOP4naS7vq81Db0R6bcP5h6q2W9kVZDY7cYugzbCk2uw2bMOwcTNDfiGSlcfZ-vsKh3tZZj8U4zaR43zivPoul41St9glV7woaFOpp8amK00iz98/s1600/IMG_9356.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgYE-TOD2oUUdybhFL5w0y7YquvcZNOP4naS7vq81Db0R6bcP5h6q2W9kVZDY7cYugzbCk2uw2bMOwcTNDfiGSlcfZ-vsKh3tZZj8U4zaR43zivPoul41St9glV7woaFOpp8amK00iz98/s320/IMG_9356.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My husband Jim enjoying my cooking</td></tr>
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At the ranger station we read how the flood closed the castle and the rules of the park which we probably should have read before we entered but more importantly I found a park guide book.<br />
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We were excited to see that we had checked off nearly every sightseeing location along the east side of Death Valley except a small attraction called "Salt Creek" which promises a 1/2 mile flat walk where you can witness the rare Pupfish that only exist in two locations in Death Valley and no other place on earth.<br />
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No other fish can live in the conditions that this eco system provides. Pupfish can live in water that is four times more salty than the ocean and can live in water up to 116 degrees Fahrenheit.<br />
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Here is a <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_Valley_pupfish" target="_blank">Wikipedia Link</a> if you'd like to find out more about these rare little fish.<br />
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I was excited to go especially since I found out it was spawning season. The male Pupfish take on a blue and golden color during the season and it promised to be a sight to see.<br />
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The Pupfish are listed as ENDANGERED and if you combine the two areas of Death Valley that they live in, they would be considered CRITICALLY ENDANGERED.<br />
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Upon our arrival, we found several signs telling tourists to stay on the boardwalk and observe from a safe distance to not disturb the delicate ecosystem of the creek but only a few dozen feet onto the boardwalk we saw this sight.<br />
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<span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;">!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtVMdKAVnfxukY0HYMGCeZd2jmbiL_9TnIjGLxVmsEOyQrOQGsjH_7y7s2QhcYpxilFqriEZMO0cElq1KXBBXXOkDO_Gx73YgQbqzbYsaVKVNpYX5zEQqV8uT6SFF4QZ2ci8ovbbrnDd0/s1600/DSC_3695.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="595" data-original-width="1600" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtVMdKAVnfxukY0HYMGCeZd2jmbiL_9TnIjGLxVmsEOyQrOQGsjH_7y7s2QhcYpxilFqriEZMO0cElq1KXBBXXOkDO_Gx73YgQbqzbYsaVKVNpYX5zEQqV8uT6SFF4QZ2ci8ovbbrnDd0/s640/DSC_3695.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I became more and more outraged as I neared this atrocity.<br />
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A family of five had decided to leave the boardwalk, remove their shoes and the parents allowed their children to wade, frolic and splash in this delicate ecosystem.<br />
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It was sad to watch as nearly a dozen other tourists simply walked by and said nothing while this family negligently harmed this area.<br />
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My husband knew I was outraged and my mind ticked as I wondered what to do about this situation.<br />
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From the distance you see in the picture above, I yelled out to the family, "We are expected to stay on the boardwalk for the protection of this ecosystem!"<br />
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Immediately, the father yelled back, "OK! Kids, get out of the water, come on, back to the boardwalk."<br />
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I took this picture and waited to make sure they left the water. As I walked by I thanked the father and he responded, "Sure, no problem."<br />
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We went on to enjoy the walk and since the family did not catch up to us on the walk, I assume that they left the area.<br />
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There were several things wrong with what happened here and I hope you will realize the damage we can do with our negligence and ego.<br />
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1. Did these people have bug spray on their bodies that could have effected the water they entered?<br />
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2. More than likely, these parents had applied sunscreen to their children or themselves that could have altered or poisoned the ecosystem.<br />
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3. Even if you have soap film or lotion on your body, these toxins can seep into the ecosystem unknowingly.<br />
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4. If you have walked in other areas of the park and picked up pollen, seeds, larvae, etc. you could unwittingly deposit them into this delicate system that has flora and fauna specifically adapted to the life that exists here now.<br />
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5. No one said anything till I came along and told these people to comply with the rules. This does not have to lead to anger. If you simply state fact, without emotion, you will get a positive result. We all have a responsibility to take care of our world and the risk is worth the reward.<br />
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6. Leave No Trace does not just consider whether or not we are leaving trash or using trash receptacles. There are 7 Leave No Trace Principles that include:<br />
a. Don't make any new trails, stay on designated trails<br />
b. Noise, keep your voice down so others may enjoy the silence of nature<br />
c. Click for more information on the "<a href="https://lnt.org/learn/seven-principles-overview" target="_blank">7 Leave No Trace Principles</a>" or visit <a href="https://lnt.org/" target="_blank">https://lnt.org</a><br />
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7. Teach the children. What these parents were teaching their children was not the preservation of the environment but to be selfish and destroy. They taught them to disregard the well thought out rules of the area. They taught them that it's ok to go wherever you want without regard to it's effect.<br />
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8. Now everyone who visits the area has to see the footprints of others who were here before and some may even feel that they are also allowed to leave the walkway. This is a terrible legacy to leave behind.<br />
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I could go on for pages but I won't.<br />
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The moral of this story...<br />
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They tell us it takes a village to raise a child but it also takes a village to save a national treasure.<br />
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Don't be afraid to speak up when someone is harming our natural resources.<br />
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Speak kindly and use facts, not emotion. Imagine how differently this may have gone if I simply yelled, "Get your filthy kids out of the creek!" or "Hey stupid, you're killing the fish!" both of which are thoughts that crossed my outraged mind.<br />
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Teach the children and fellow adventurers how to be ethical and principled in nature so confrontations become unnecessary.<br />
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We went on to enjoy the Pupfish and I hope that the thoughtful presence of our generation and future generations to come will allow for the enjoyment of this treasured ecosystem and others like it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwe3LyKM2GwNk1kZVLnUpIl37IHOMGr0gMLAVT-Q7Ldl2f2AhIkgnT-eGaPnG-kFx3uVCFQMHs62TEPBkWTcd1E4kCq7oGhRrpB0PHyaVPLzKp3MBUcnEU8Fw20gObFvoHLdAP3CZOjz0/s1600/DSC_3714.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1088" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwe3LyKM2GwNk1kZVLnUpIl37IHOMGr0gMLAVT-Q7Ldl2f2AhIkgnT-eGaPnG-kFx3uVCFQMHs62TEPBkWTcd1E4kCq7oGhRrpB0PHyaVPLzKp3MBUcnEU8Fw20gObFvoHLdAP3CZOjz0/s320/DSC_3714.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not good focus but here is a male and female in a spawning knot</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf2gs36CQvoa4tiXr0zCID8fdQSVwhTsU9zOM5m9YOMD3dT4qXOaRmKRdT3OQw8hK9XoDGr_GZxvYNdgswmA6N4Eh4ZNglRIu8RH6gu67euMeKwzx6h30aOyL2o8MrT_j7I9GbTFRvlvM/s1600/DSC_3733.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1350" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf2gs36CQvoa4tiXr0zCID8fdQSVwhTsU9zOM5m9YOMD3dT4qXOaRmKRdT3OQw8hK9XoDGr_GZxvYNdgswmA6N4Eh4ZNglRIu8RH6gu67euMeKwzx6h30aOyL2o8MrT_j7I9GbTFRvlvM/s320/DSC_3733.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A male Pupfish looking for a female to dart after</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAxAqLMS39mIfRlnAri_fdF1fnB8JVU8_jj2q6xc84OyHGlqLFnFi7DRj6nd81H4QDJ_mj3ie4S-JYyPbR-xVcD_XOegK2p6p5-jjUi-kYSLc_azxAMXypesqebbVD5Z0hmV-37hHEaAQ/s1600/DSC_3781.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1350" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAxAqLMS39mIfRlnAri_fdF1fnB8JVU8_jj2q6xc84OyHGlqLFnFi7DRj6nd81H4QDJ_mj3ie4S-JYyPbR-xVcD_XOegK2p6p5-jjUi-kYSLc_azxAMXypesqebbVD5Z0hmV-37hHEaAQ/s320/DSC_3781.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A lizard near the creek who was just as curious about me</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaDCXXryG-rxBv8Zn_dWPS-TtIVjIKEFEBaCr-mLf68avXWeQarQF1ongJ3kioZrz1ztycHfmnuPM-V0B4gTKqpEJubBs9P5n9ff5fEx9NOQOmzGuX8dXCWsYnH7XucOtkBvk93LZEhm4/s1600/DSC_3772.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaDCXXryG-rxBv8Zn_dWPS-TtIVjIKEFEBaCr-mLf68avXWeQarQF1ongJ3kioZrz1ztycHfmnuPM-V0B4gTKqpEJubBs9P5n9ff5fEx9NOQOmzGuX8dXCWsYnH7XucOtkBvk93LZEhm4/s320/DSC_3772.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the signs along the walk path</td></tr>
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For more photos and stories, check out my website at<br />
<a href="http://www.lizzieflower.com/" target="_blank">www.lizzieflower.com</a><br />
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Peace and Love,<br />
<br />
Lizzie<br />
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<br />Lizzie Flowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12359412560617441373noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694092833250872012.post-2139589125580460822018-12-06T20:40:00.001-08:002018-12-07T09:35:05.313-08:00Beefy's - A New Year's ResolutionI honestly don't like the concept of New Year's Resolutions and I see it as just another way to set myself up for failure year after year.<br />
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For years I swore, on every New Year's Eve at the strike of midnight, that I was going to quit smoking or lose the massive amount of weight I'd been carrying around. In 2009 I quit smoking and in 2014 after 7 years of life changes, I had lost over 140 lbs and I can honestly say that none of it was a result of a New Year's resolution.<br />
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Instead of being motivated, I found myself buying useless gym memberships and drugs that promised fast and effortless weight-loss. I even bought the drug that Anna-Nicole Smith was pushing and all it did was lighten my wallet.<br />
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As a result of my weight loss life changes I have had to learn how to pass on certain foods to maintain my weight because my motto is "never lose the same pound twice". I don't want to always pass on the chocolate and my favorite foods so every now and then, if I've exercised and maintained a healthy frame of mind about food, I indulge.<br />
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That being said, shortly after I moved to Reno, NV I found myself in a small and I mean <i>extremely</i> small burger joint called <i>"Beefy's"</i>. In this picture the entire restaurant looks smaller than the black pickup truck in the foreground but trust me, it's just perspective. The joint is actually a little bigger than that black pickup and I tell you that lovingly.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7u0mYoD55EiYLV__Y4RRipIx1eoc483ScggnGMUbV3ypHhCnV7T8b7DwHzVgdefouye2zN-zuVcLtSKdPhpHyHCkksHWGMMq8CkAcfWZPjQtaTfJykEFx1zJdsJniX6u590p5I6QUg7w/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-11-09+at+4.02.37+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1064" data-original-width="1282" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7u0mYoD55EiYLV__Y4RRipIx1eoc483ScggnGMUbV3ypHhCnV7T8b7DwHzVgdefouye2zN-zuVcLtSKdPhpHyHCkksHWGMMq8CkAcfWZPjQtaTfJykEFx1zJdsJniX6u590p5I6QUg7w/s320/Screen+Shot+2018-11-09+at+4.02.37+PM.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of Beefy's from Virginia Street<br />
<a href="https://www.google.com/maps/uv?hl=en&pb=!1s0x809940bdd0ace4bf:0xaf11ac3d32d8fe8!2m22!2m2!1i80!2i80!3m1!2i20!16m16!1b1!2m2!1m1!1e1!2m2!1m1!1e3!2m2!1m1!1e5!2m2!1m1!1e4!2m2!1m1!1e6!3m1!7e115!4s/maps/place/beefy%27s%2Breno/@39.5116048,-119.8060481,3a,75y,79.07h,90t/data%3D*213m4*211e1*213m2*211su83ihiLMVuWET0QPTYq4YA*212e0*214m2*213m1*211s0x809940bdd0ace4bf:0xaf11ac3d32d8fe8!5sbeefy%27s+reno+-+Google+Search&imagekey=!1e2!2su83ihiLMVuWET0QPTYq4YA&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwij77uez8jeAhXITd8KHUU5CR8Qpx8wCnoECAYQCw" target="_blank">Beefy's Street View-Thanks Google Maps</a><br />
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When you walk in the door you are greeted with a loud and happy, "Sit anywhere ya want, I'll come get your order." There is only one table in the joint and it seats about 5, the counter with old school truck stop type stools will seat about 6 (I've never counted), there is another counter against the south wall that will seat about 4 and then in a little cubby in the corner, there is a tall ledge that will sit 3. I jokingly call this "the table for lovers".<br />
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If you were counting there, it comes out to about 18 and you'd better not stand around loitering or take too long to find a place to sit because you will be told to sit down and get out of the way because things move spectacularly fast at Beefy's.<br />
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Have no fear my darlings, if you don't like to share a table with strangers or sit at a counter, feel free to sit at one of the two picnic tables on the side of the building and have your burger while you watch the eclectic foot traffic of midtown Reno on Virginia Street. You don't have to worry about rain or weather in Reno, you are in the high desert and there is sunshine about 270 days a year.<br />
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I love the tight and bustling atmosphere of the restaurant and I hope they never change a thing about the place. Trust me, it adds to the charm and you never know who you will be sitting with because if you are the first one to the table made for 5 and it's only you and a buddy, someone will sit at the table with you and if you're lucky, they will leave as your friend. (Caution: don't over chat though, it's a fine line)<br />
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I guess it was September 2017 when I was introduced to Beefy's and the burger of the month was the "Monster Burger". If I remember right, the price was somewhere between $10-$15 and the meal included a generous stack of fries and a can of soda.<br />
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Below is a picture of the Monster Burger and I'm afraid I can't tell you everything they put on this beauty but the one thing I can tell you is that the condiment that tied this amazing burger together was a handmade sundried tomato catsup (ketchup if you prefer) that was the design of the owner himself.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1HWh7i6ThCzPFlrDQyspkKmsPr9mcr13gxiL4qjQTNbw5BNVuh6P-_0oHliVzJiampo53_Bp0RIQVQ-vzpWdbqt3QCIjAWO5CMaKcrQgkKpeqPNzqRI8EnXLKTXagZn0CngCfCBrcnbc/s1600/IMG_2639+Beefy%2527s+2017-09-12.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1HWh7i6ThCzPFlrDQyspkKmsPr9mcr13gxiL4qjQTNbw5BNVuh6P-_0oHliVzJiampo53_Bp0RIQVQ-vzpWdbqt3QCIjAWO5CMaKcrQgkKpeqPNzqRI8EnXLKTXagZn0CngCfCBrcnbc/s640/IMG_2639+Beefy%2527s+2017-09-12.jpeg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beefy's Monster Burger - September 2017</td></tr>
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On this particular day, the owner was also our waiter and when he asked me how the burger was, I had to gush about how delicious the it was. The blend of flavors was flawless and when I asked what kind of catsup he used he graciously described the way he'd made this delicious condiment and even brought out an extra little cup of it for me so I could have some extra. How cool is that?<br />
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He then told me that they have a different "Burger of the Month" every single month and that each of them are his own creation.<br />
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I know that it was nowhere near the end of the year but I'd already started to devise a plan. I turned to my husband and said, "I never want to miss a burger of the month at Beefy's" and that is how I decided the New Year's resolution to beat all others.<br />
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On New Year's Eve I loudly proclaimed that 2018 was going to be the "Year of the Beefy's Burger" and I eagerly awaited the opportunity to try each and every one. I wish I would have taken a picture of all of them or at lease written down what each of them included because each and every one is a work of art but I feel like if I'd done that, I would be giving away the secret recipes of Beefy's and that is not my intention.<br />
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I'm going to highlight a few of my most memorable burgers.<br />
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The first stand out was in March and the name of the burger was the "Jersey Shore". This bad boy lived up to it's name. I wasn't certain where the name came from till they brought it out and it was Spam, Burger, Cheeses, an Egg, onions and who knows what else on a mouth watering onion bun. I realized as they put it in front of me that it was so named because of the hodge podge of ingredients (whatever washes ashore) which was a genius name.<br />
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Don't go thinking you can recreate this one of a kind burger. There is magic in the sauces and ingredients that the maestro uses to create these works of art. Notice that I had the parmesan garlic herb fries on this occasion.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpZRce_-yNS9FUGKtTW8Y3-DG_wtpvmxYfSSUsg5ehTwanPj6Gap9_rDx48v2k4zMmrHbxTowKf83rY9Zwa7qNniUt_-fC224i7LZS9-aH97j3J4mzl_wmmG0qc754yJ2iDUQt7mEQnQA/s1600/IMG_5267+Beefy%2527s+2018-03-05.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpZRce_-yNS9FUGKtTW8Y3-DG_wtpvmxYfSSUsg5ehTwanPj6Gap9_rDx48v2k4zMmrHbxTowKf83rY9Zwa7qNniUt_-fC224i7LZS9-aH97j3J4mzl_wmmG0qc754yJ2iDUQt7mEQnQA/s640/IMG_5267+Beefy%2527s+2018-03-05.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Jersey Shore - Beefy's March Burger of the Month</td></tr>
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I was out of town most of April and had a busy May but I squeezed in a burger here and there but when June arrived and I found myself at the Beefy's counter I was met with a challenge that I fear makes my resolution a failure.<br />
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The June burger of the month was a Jelly Donut, sliced and used as the bun with a burger and peanut butter condiment. I stood on the brink, something in me cringed at the thought of a jelly donut as a bun and based on principle, I could not order the jelly donut burger and I wussed out and ordered a substitute burger. I think it was the Vietnamese burger or Korean burger. The truth is that I was so shook up that I could not eat the monthly burger that I actually forget the exact Asian nation that hosted this burger but it was actually delicious. Would you like to see a picture?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5MHOJmcR8z3jA2UADLM52r8TWcfV5eZSKzyuYKETiGWoehx8yhOvBxoDP7grX7qaFwPPRdnte-RIa7PAARcY4oP5WZRd_ELAEy_Och6V2vMddANvunei7Alm3ab3qY4ewg6UpjymoyJY/s1600/IMG_6422+Beefy%2527s+2018-06-18.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5MHOJmcR8z3jA2UADLM52r8TWcfV5eZSKzyuYKETiGWoehx8yhOvBxoDP7grX7qaFwPPRdnte-RIa7PAARcY4oP5WZRd_ELAEy_Och6V2vMddANvunei7Alm3ab3qY4ewg6UpjymoyJY/s640/IMG_6422+Beefy%2527s+2018-06-18.jpeg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beefy's Korean Burger and Garlic Fries</td></tr>
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With more determination than before, I decided then and there as I licked the last of the juices from the Korean burger from my fingers that I was not going to wuss out again. Carbs be damned, I was never going to use a substitution burger again.<br />
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The months and burgers came and went and each one was delicious and worthy of mention. Have you ever had Steak Diane? Well, the genius that owns Beefy's made a Burger Diane on a toasted french roll for August. It required 3 napkins, a fork and knife and it created a huge smile of satisfaction as I devoured it. Not my favorite but still delicious.<br />
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The last week of August and the first week of September I hiked the rim of Lake Tahoe which was 174 miles and took 15 days. It was the equivalent of hiking Mount Whitney, the highest peak in the lower 48 four times. All the while, I knew that my reward was going to be the September Beefy's Burger of the Month. I told all the other hikers about the burgers and my resolution but I was worried that I would not have time in my schedule to go have the burger. I was expected to leave the trail and within a couple of days, attend the Reno Air Races for 5 days and then with a one day turnaround, we were planning to leave for a month long visit to Nebraska to see the grandchildren.<br />
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In the few short days between the hike and the air races I headed to Beefy's, I was tired and starving and when I got there I found out that they had a lunch rush and had run out of ingredients. The owner was going after a resupply of lobster for the "Lobster Burger" they had for the special.<br />
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Of course I had no problem waiting for the lobster to arrive. I was more than willing to wait so I could fulfill my September obligation to my resolution and after a relatively short wait, I was served with what I would describe as the absolutely most amazing burger of my lifetime.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP-0EAKeCgYL0nkWUy8NucCbHcW6r1zEG9rpNjjMnSsfZeYYgG1XiqZgrAJD6censOhyTSNPwjRkD896mtN_ip-7OnjfGZ83zhFeTwxOJ4BzMDhRGa_zLie6WOlI1YKh4Mbnq6dp6xxZ0/s1600/IMG_7598+Beefy%2527s+2018-09-17.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP-0EAKeCgYL0nkWUy8NucCbHcW6r1zEG9rpNjjMnSsfZeYYgG1XiqZgrAJD6censOhyTSNPwjRkD896mtN_ip-7OnjfGZ83zhFeTwxOJ4BzMDhRGa_zLie6WOlI1YKh4Mbnq6dp6xxZ0/s640/IMG_7598+Beefy%2527s+2018-09-17.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Lobster Burger" Beefy's September Burger of the Month and Parmesan Herb Fries</td></tr>
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When this burger arrived I knew I was in love. You can not imagine the aroma rising from this burger. I doubt that this will ever be beat, not only was it covered in lobster, the beef patty was resting on lobster and covered in a light sauce and cheese. All the flavors blended to a lovely symphony of flavors. I savored this one slowly and lovingly. It was obscene.<br />
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October brought a Burger Cordon Bleu that included a burger, chicken breast, ham and cheese and yes it was as amazing as it sound. Again, not my favorite but definitely yummy.<br />
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I'm not fond of curry since I had an unfortunate experience during a 5 day hike of the Grand Canyon where I swore off anything with the word curry but remembering the Jelly Donut Burger of June that I'd avoided, I bravely ordered the Thai Curry Burger they were offering for the November burger of the month. I wish I had a picture of the burger they served. I wanted to devour it before the plate hit the counter. It was a perfectly cooked beef patty on a french roll smothered in a mildly spicy curry sauce of coconut and eggplant. Fantastic!<br />
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As I left the establishment the owner told me he hadn't locked it in yet but he was thinking of a Greek Burger for December. Mediterranean has some of my favorite flavors so I was excited to hear that. Unfortunately it was November 9th when he told me this so I had 3 weeks of anxiety as I waited for December to arrive.<br />
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I finally found my way into Beefy's on December 6th and I'd brought a couple of friends to share the whole experience. They all loved the cozy atmosphere. We sat at the table and I anxiously ran over to the specials board to see what the special was. "The Greek"!!! I was so excited and as an extra bonus, it was served with "Greek Fries".<br />
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Everyone at the table ordered something difference, my husband had the "Awesome, Awesome", Ray had the Nevadan, Vicki had some veggie thing with avocado that actually looked pretty yummy too but I had no question about what I was having, it was "The Greek".<br />
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This heavenly burger was a perfectly cooked hamburger, feta, homemade tzatziki, kalamata olives, other heavenly spices and ingredients topped with dolmathakia (dol-mah-THAH-kya) which is normally rice and herbs wrapped in grape leaves all served on a lightly toasted ciabatta bun. ((deep breath) The fries alone are worth a second December visit to Beefy's, this abundance of fries was tossed with herbs, feta and chopped kalamata olives. Look at this delectable dish...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO6JZGpv8abhMf1hyceiET2LkGyZCtftG62WdtwwQebqkfCP6QCQAKvYYjTz070hF-R6kaRwEL1UxMHB_BMGFoPbSs387rmOGc7mzFwMY60Ot5CuT3sfkeVxkepSeGfzPrLVRUVUvb6g4/s1600/IMG_8214.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO6JZGpv8abhMf1hyceiET2LkGyZCtftG62WdtwwQebqkfCP6QCQAKvYYjTz070hF-R6kaRwEL1UxMHB_BMGFoPbSs387rmOGc7mzFwMY60Ot5CuT3sfkeVxkepSeGfzPrLVRUVUvb6g4/s640/IMG_8214.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"The Greek" Beefy's December Burger of the Month and Greek Fries</td></tr>
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The only regret I have about this visit is that Stella didn't take my order but she arrived before I finished my meal and she adds a ton of flavor to anything you decide to have at Beefy's. The owner wasn't there today and I would have loved to have gotten a picture of him and me with "The Greek" but I will have to save that photo op for another time.<br />
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There is a lot more to Beefy's to discover since they have a full menu of unique burgers from the "Plain Jane" to "The Moo, Cluck and Oink!". Check out their menu. <a href="http://www.beefysreno.com/our-menu/" target="_blank">(Beefy's Menu)</a> If you have a thirst, they have dozens of beers, wine and soft drinks and if at the end of it all you decide you have the room for it, you must order one of their shakes. After they mix it up for you, they even give you the mixer container that has the overflow in it.<br />
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Since I skipped June and didn't try the Jelly Donut burger with the peanut butter it feels like this resolution is incomplete.<br />
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What do you think, should I do the same New Year's Resolution for 2019?<br />
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It looks like it's Beefy's Burgers for another year and if you're smart, you'll do it too.<br />
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Tell them Lizzie Flower sent you<br />
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Peace and Love,</div>
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Lizzie </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">For more photos and stories, check out my website at <b><a href="http://www.lizzieflower.com/">www.lizzieflower.com</a></b><br />Follow me:<br />Instagram @thelizzieflower<br />Twitter @lizzieflower<br />Snapchat (I don't do Snapchat because it's for children and I don't like it)</span></div>
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Lizzie Flowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12359412560617441373noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694092833250872012.post-84836676771648100492018-10-25T17:55:00.000-07:002018-10-25T17:55:21.477-07:00Pine State Biscuits<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijhZURCe_bAkjdk4_Ix6Yxga7zUqhUOv9B8kCEfn5FVlTYKLqkO_DydlMkKEOC5i-HHYzy71KsitP75cGzcJjooXxbdJz4E9W5uBJVUKFxN6ko1sNtKiTAHOgXZDv0jS_-xgfmwCIThpw/s1600/DSC_9822.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijhZURCe_bAkjdk4_Ix6Yxga7zUqhUOv9B8kCEfn5FVlTYKLqkO_DydlMkKEOC5i-HHYzy71KsitP75cGzcJjooXxbdJz4E9W5uBJVUKFxN6ko1sNtKiTAHOgXZDv0jS_-xgfmwCIThpw/s320/DSC_9822.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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Entrance to Pine State Biscuits</div>
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I've been known to post a Google Review or two and if the food comes out looking really good I'm more than happy to include a picture but every now and then a restaurant comes along that absolutely blows the doors off and exceeds all expectations.</div>
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A block off Virginia Street in Reno, Nevada; not quite downtown; not quite midtown; there is a restaurant called <i>Pine State Biscuits</i>. It's in the middle of the block east of the intersection of Center and Pine Streets. It has a Center Street address but the door is on Pine Street.</div>
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<i>First things first: How I learned that this restaurant was even in Reno</i>. If you are lucky, you have a Ray and Vicky in your lives. This couple has great taste if food, entertainment and friends and when I moved into my building and met them, I knew immediately that I wanted to spend more time with them.</div>
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The other day when we were going to a forum breakfast, Ray mentioned that they had gone to a biscuit restaurant. Being a paleo girl, I immediately cringed at the thought of a big heavy carb-laden white flour biscuit but then he told me that he'd had the shrimp and grits and for some reason, I'm not sure if it was the excitement in his description or the way he described it to us but the thought of it started to tickle the cajun/creole sensors in my brain.</div>
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The next day, my husband and I set off on foot to find the biscuit shop and much to our surprise, found it quite busy at 1:20 in the afternoon. A steady flow of customers ebbed and flowed in and out of the establishment. They ranged from older folks to millenials with children albeit that the children were running around untethered but that is a whole other blog.</div>
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We ordered at the counter and took a number. The place smelled delicious and the biscuit sandwiches that were being delivered from the kitchen were humongous and dripping with fabulous looking sauces to say the least. An example of a s'mores toaster desert was on the counter by the registers and it also looked delectable but being unable to workout at this time due to an injury, I knew I hadn't earned a treat like that.</div>
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As we waited we watched the staff working and delivering food. We noticed a nice note on the table noting...</div>
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Thanks for supporting small independent business by</div>
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bussing your own table</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNOqMNHNBYSqNJosGGfujM9CLNC6CBHu9tgi0dV7RQyeNBSo2kbgDNUQYZGVzXTGd8XbuQJKJn-kM-zdL7vkE76tA6SBlrpJjItd5fdPAAiIP-HcMupx9zRUWnnrxNjAJCaIaxEv10OEc/s1600/DSC_9826.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNOqMNHNBYSqNJosGGfujM9CLNC6CBHu9tgi0dV7RQyeNBSo2kbgDNUQYZGVzXTGd8XbuQJKJn-kM-zdL7vkE76tA6SBlrpJjItd5fdPAAiIP-HcMupx9zRUWnnrxNjAJCaIaxEv10OEc/s640/DSC_9826.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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Simple instructions with a thank you card</div>
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After a pretty short wait, this was delivered to the table</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidNDEM95LKtdfMskpiZlI-IQNF7ZFf7zJPUDJ0QRdu5CYksAiJoin8dFoynpoa_gyt7tnXeOJyeNJdrJTp16OE2onE9wvmkfyRSP7cZ4XLk1TDAkYKLXUvcJl4wB4bgXezQzfcYwEot5k/s1600/DSC_9827.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidNDEM95LKtdfMskpiZlI-IQNF7ZFf7zJPUDJ0QRdu5CYksAiJoin8dFoynpoa_gyt7tnXeOJyeNJdrJTp16OE2onE9wvmkfyRSP7cZ4XLk1TDAkYKLXUvcJl4wB4bgXezQzfcYwEot5k/s640/DSC_9827.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shrimp and Grits</td></tr>
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Shrimp and grits southern style. The butter swirled on the plate and the bacon grease shimmered on the shrimp. My husband and I looked up at each other and simply smiled.</div>
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Every bite was delicious and we left there feeling quite satisfied.</div>
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We happily bussed our own table as they politely asked and headed down the street certain to return again. </div>
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Peace and Love,</div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Lizzie </span> </div>
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For more photos and stories, check out my website at <b><a href="http://www.lizzieflower.com/">www.lizzieflower.com</a></b> </div>
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<br />Lizzie Flowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12359412560617441373noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694092833250872012.post-46363268741701104452018-10-21T20:21:00.001-07:002018-10-21T20:21:46.656-07:00METAL not mentalI found a wonderful little photo club in the downtown Reno area that consists of a few loyal followers and a few lovely and talented outliers. Just before I left to do a thru hike, they started an "inspiration" project where one member choses a subject like; three, bubbles, candy, and as you will see, metal.<br />
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You have 5 days to post 2 pictures of the inspiration subject.<br />
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Now, normally I would not find an inspiration subject interesting enough to blog about but this particular subject led me to a particularly fun afternoon with my husband in tow as my photo assistant. His job is to block light, add light, hold gear and most importantly, make sure I don't get hit by a car.<br />
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It was the last day before I needed to post and I was determined to find a street cover that had the words "metal work" on it and was having absolutely no luck when my trusty assistant suggested that I take pictures of the new Virginia Street Bridge. "Genius!" I exclaimed and I immediately found inspiration in that bridge.<br />
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Here is a picture of the struts that hold the suspension bridge in place.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPrIBwoeT4FliCEN8qELmLfjcmo5XcyCISjC01QGMhEr-8pCsa-zvMj1ayAF4HjxSVybXolBlxFHUKOav6wYZMEsLe9EXKiPLsLV7Bw2P0ICDbf5SrcODzVfVWR6MqB9P00tDcjE7hBjs/s1600/DSC_8203+Lightroom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPrIBwoeT4FliCEN8qELmLfjcmo5XcyCISjC01QGMhEr-8pCsa-zvMj1ayAF4HjxSVybXolBlxFHUKOav6wYZMEsLe9EXKiPLsLV7Bw2P0ICDbf5SrcODzVfVWR6MqB9P00tDcjE7hBjs/s320/DSC_8203+Lightroom.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Metal Supports on the Virginia Street Bridge</td></tr>
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While taking the picture, I saw a dashingly handsome man in a well tailored suit walk by and as the breeze blew his jacket back, a badge flashed in the light of the sun. As he walked away, I had wished I would have taken a picture of the badge but the opportunity had escaped me. I could not get it out of my mind.<br />
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We continued to explore downtown Reno for other metal subjects. Jim had a thousand ideas, "Let's go by the ballfield." There were a lot of photo opportunities in that area but I particularly loved the color contrast in this photograph.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6DvBkeWfhoI_Y5jnbBtHNHlqg-tLBHqqcd590-gayrZqyALDC0l6ikHGTfyzkCZuBQOWNwyZehrZXA2E80AjODhkkgHPPW2AfOoCKifOqabgP92dhe23nOeMc93TMxKw5NT9QqTSW6mY/s1600/DSC_8221+Lightroom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6DvBkeWfhoI_Y5jnbBtHNHlqg-tLBHqqcd590-gayrZqyALDC0l6ikHGTfyzkCZuBQOWNwyZehrZXA2E80AjODhkkgHPPW2AfOoCKifOqabgP92dhe23nOeMc93TMxKw5NT9QqTSW6mY/s640/DSC_8221+Lightroom.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aces Ballfield</td></tr>
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Near the Ballfield is a sports bar / restaurant that has a bunch of machinery and equipment around it. I found a large saw bolted to a fence and found the patina to be beautiful but I still begrudged the missed opportunity of photographing the man's badge.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSYju65zxQ1A5E4L5iQQafkV0RBgYsNsW0_3XWZBmm11j8GWJg699PbwkSabV6xEvZLpv0yDK5N1Fhd-F9jkvgmHwUhUjaJDo83HbU6i5fUHvp1D5ro98YDoSQmQ_ZX0iW0VxlAgx20EM/s1600/DSC_8229+Lightroom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1219" data-original-width="1600" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSYju65zxQ1A5E4L5iQQafkV0RBgYsNsW0_3XWZBmm11j8GWJg699PbwkSabV6xEvZLpv0yDK5N1Fhd-F9jkvgmHwUhUjaJDo83HbU6i5fUHvp1D5ro98YDoSQmQ_ZX0iW0VxlAgx20EM/s320/DSC_8229+Lightroom.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My assistants favorite shot of the day.</td></tr>
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I finally found a manhole cover worthy of a photograph but the word "metal" was not where to be found on this. Dang, that guy's badge was so cool!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvAKlS_0dKRG08nD5IHduBSC2BEpL-3X-u4SeJ9JkMTI8dfEV7WPsQjbm1oIxvxKagOhgvZ09ogJZtg7_LJ9ZHrMD8Y4v4cKBT7GN9vV2ycDOWSOLHZZxkKNBu7cFLCBAXY5BKF2uZs-g/s1600/DSC_8215+Lightroom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1490" data-original-width="1600" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvAKlS_0dKRG08nD5IHduBSC2BEpL-3X-u4SeJ9JkMTI8dfEV7WPsQjbm1oIxvxKagOhgvZ09ogJZtg7_LJ9ZHrMD8Y4v4cKBT7GN9vV2ycDOWSOLHZZxkKNBu7cFLCBAXY5BKF2uZs-g/s320/DSC_8215+Lightroom.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Manhole Cover in downtown Reno</td></tr>
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We headed to the Plaza near the Truckee River and I saw this metal sign attached to the ground pointing to the plaza. I had not idea that it was called the Art Landing. I wonder where the guy with the badge is now? Dang!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbnhggm03BS2IoBhb29LfM8TCrNRxacV-LnphHIgyIudx4BwHejaTwczSQ86OLoJ2x1ck6MJ8-2ZECl316Af1wPkUliojidogF5XNnLK258bk8uPnq3HkqE9L897bjjfHOnVJajXBrA0s/s1600/DSC_8216+Lightroom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbnhggm03BS2IoBhb29LfM8TCrNRxacV-LnphHIgyIudx4BwHejaTwczSQ86OLoJ2x1ck6MJ8-2ZECl316Af1wPkUliojidogF5XNnLK258bk8uPnq3HkqE9L897bjjfHOnVJajXBrA0s/s320/DSC_8216+Lightroom.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Art Plaza near the Truckee River in Downtown Reno</td></tr>
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There is a fellow that plays saxophone in the plaza that I like to photograph. He will play just as hard when no one is there as he does when the plaza is crowded. I asked Jim to give him $5 so I could take a picture of his sax. (It was a little distracting that spellcheck caught me putting an a in the middle of saxophone instead of an o. I had no idea it was spelled that way) This sax is the same color as that guys badge.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU9fzH5i9VHE2ITfvKl-SybGR0l2O8MiN5kAeARdeAkfzb6Y0q7C27SrDtv386GJsvQf77b-MWHOsuJlnpRm6v8_xeRSD6LLXfGGki9wUMD12KTII4QxUs3LxB8m9ant4ZcOEqV5SB1yE/s1600/DSC_8199+Lightroom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU9fzH5i9VHE2ITfvKl-SybGR0l2O8MiN5kAeARdeAkfzb6Y0q7C27SrDtv386GJsvQf77b-MWHOsuJlnpRm6v8_xeRSD6LLXfGGki9wUMD12KTII4QxUs3LxB8m9ant4ZcOEqV5SB1yE/s320/DSC_8199+Lightroom.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Street Performer's Sax</td></tr>
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We headed across the street to City Hall where I found a recycle can and took a photograph of that. I particularly liked this shot.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi75IT0u59TuMyVjHepQYPUPfAJE9Uk6xwFWRykxseux3pi7qTjg1rEeagNCOkv3q-Gl1sXMY7IKWblfUPIYCODosJDfN_eu65KMt6llhwptgI4crt-ufxnXAglW-_GsC8RGVj0OFUobDU/s1600/DSC_8194+Lightroom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1085" data-original-width="1600" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi75IT0u59TuMyVjHepQYPUPfAJE9Uk6xwFWRykxseux3pi7qTjg1rEeagNCOkv3q-Gl1sXMY7IKWblfUPIYCODosJDfN_eu65KMt6llhwptgI4crt-ufxnXAglW-_GsC8RGVj0OFUobDU/s320/DSC_8194+Lightroom.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Recycling Can at City Hall</td></tr>
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We were done, it was time to go home and process these photos and get them submitted but when we began crossing the street at City Hall I was surprised to look up and see that gentleman with the badge. I decided immediately that I was not going to miss this opportunity. I stopped him and quickly explained to him that I had a photo inspiration project and I asked him if I could take a picture of his badge. He was thrilled and proudly posed, pushing back his fine lapelled jacket to expose the badge on his belt.<br />
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I got down on the ground and began shooting close up shots of the badge and he stood there patiently.<br />
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When we were done and all gratitudes had been given, my husband and faithful assistant started to chant, "I am such a good boy. I am such a good boy. I stood there and let my wife take pictures of a man's groin and crotch area and didn't say a word."<br />
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Now, anyone who knows my husband knows that he is all about the laugh and joking and I'm sure it took everything he had in him to not tease both me and the kind code officer that let me take pictures of his midsection.<br />
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The result was awesome though!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8mmEb0SiqJPLyrX_tjJY1OoxcC8aR_y8t444ggHQ5DIIEx3bfqVVpp63FHpJvVSDYrPyCajMmELaNmFif-zx1b5-2wyh8getGj0RfKD8PWPbU_ebQrzZoDjR9RYq3UKOQVvYKqlAL9Gc/s1600/DSC_8201+Lightroom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1051" data-original-width="1600" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8mmEb0SiqJPLyrX_tjJY1OoxcC8aR_y8t444ggHQ5DIIEx3bfqVVpp63FHpJvVSDYrPyCajMmELaNmFif-zx1b5-2wyh8getGj0RfKD8PWPbU_ebQrzZoDjR9RYq3UKOQVvYKqlAL9Gc/s640/DSC_8201+Lightroom.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reno Code Enforcement Badge</td></tr>
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This is one of my favorite photos and goes in the top five<br />
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Peace and Love,</div>
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Lizzie </div>
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For more photos and stories, check out my website at <b><a href="http://www.lizzieflower.com/">www.lizzieflower.com</a></b> </div>
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Twitter @lizzieflower</div>
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Lizzie Flowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12359412560617441373noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694092833250872012.post-13260108827806475432018-10-21T17:23:00.001-07:002018-10-21T17:34:10.908-07:00Vampire Photo ShootJust a few short weeks till Halloween, 2018 and my friends at "Reno Camera Club" had a photo shoot with a wonderful model named <i>Natalie Irene Munster Crab.</i> (no kidding, that is her real name and she is cool enough to pull it off)<br />
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We started at 9:00am at the Oxbow Nature Park in Reno NV and didn't finish till 1:00 in the afternoon. I could have taken photos all day long but 487 releases of the shutter later and I have 11 favorites that I processed and have for you to see below. The truth is that I have 48 favorites but had to narrow it down so I don't bore you.<br />
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I've named the photos which I thought was a fun change. You will notice that the model gathers more and more blood as the morning progressed. What was funny was when her right bicuspid started falling out. There we were, all chewing gum and hoping that the gum she used would hold the tooth in.<br />
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I also have some blooper shots that I may add in another blog of teeth falling off and wigs getting flown in the air as we went for the "hair in the wind" effect.<br />
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The truth is that I do so much Macro and Nature photography that I had no interest in this photo shoot and nearly backed out from going. I was totally out of my element and 5 minutes into itm, Mike Smith, the dapper british gent who organizes the photo club had me taking dream photography and making me feel like a pro.<br />
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More than once I took a photo, looked at the preview on screen and danced around like an excited school girl. I learned what "rear flash" is and how to use my flash as my aperture. I was hypnotized by the model whose every movement I wanted to capture.<br />
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When I sat down to the computer, it was daunting to find a few handfuls of photos that I would use to process, I wanted to do them all but I doubted that anyone would have any interest in that besides me.<br />
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Enjoy these photos and I hope they give you nightmares!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3cF1IlugpneKRIEFSt9R7aN8LQjDtNxRbZJyCYOLNRtiB-BQdn3DrZoU6R692zOcJRBL0uUMxydATejGY0GwIQVpBrypHdzOeNT2Zw1xmzkirEqwE7pL1o2_8Hh6xj2tsY6NbIQsIW08/s1600/DSC_9426_Moon_Worship.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3cF1IlugpneKRIEFSt9R7aN8LQjDtNxRbZJyCYOLNRtiB-BQdn3DrZoU6R692zOcJRBL0uUMxydATejGY0GwIQVpBrypHdzOeNT2Zw1xmzkirEqwE7pL1o2_8Hh6xj2tsY6NbIQsIW08/s640/DSC_9426_Moon_Worship.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moon Worship</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB_1VaAr-HUGpmFLon9xncQH-wrzrW4Ur8J_kMUtFzUmVFrNaNV4mOutZ7sVmia80Ryj8SJYEC3HA2dKjKFmhRsXR2vd8xA2niV8uMTEa4PmygUbqfqYu00QHNa3UnLGY0tYCmBgQ33RQ/s1600/DSC_9485_Satisfied_Hunger.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB_1VaAr-HUGpmFLon9xncQH-wrzrW4Ur8J_kMUtFzUmVFrNaNV4mOutZ7sVmia80Ryj8SJYEC3HA2dKjKFmhRsXR2vd8xA2niV8uMTEa4PmygUbqfqYu00QHNa3UnLGY0tYCmBgQ33RQ/s320/DSC_9485_Satisfied_Hunger.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Satisfied Hunger</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPTCn6fieB7g_ME3X7CeCn_sc3UDRZwZO9ROfszSMD5Kf1Tb8f9eeiYa0Hvd93J9wsGF4sIeuCjGJrQi3gK_tr2qmywyXYkxIYRigiLdjUDgqH-HiGIvY9BKjJq9FXAOF0oDZkyGr4Xbo/s1600/DSC_9487_Desire_For_More.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPTCn6fieB7g_ME3X7CeCn_sc3UDRZwZO9ROfszSMD5Kf1Tb8f9eeiYa0Hvd93J9wsGF4sIeuCjGJrQi3gK_tr2qmywyXYkxIYRigiLdjUDgqH-HiGIvY9BKjJq9FXAOF0oDZkyGr4Xbo/s400/DSC_9487_Desire_For_More.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Desire for More</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Experimenting with hair flipping for the first time ever had some great results. I did a serious happy dance when I saw this on my screen.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-6ZMXapBxZAX0snpepJkBG08wYUIdWw2tCwoVFGe-x7SlYCd5bNTTSyxcH4KS_lJ3smg36tyAEGTcit8eRNhcOns7djGlh5wS55NGfBmthxweZ9CHIY_NgTk02LQIAHeuPRcu03ftg0o/s1600/DSC_9530_Under_Cover_of_Night.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-6ZMXapBxZAX0snpepJkBG08wYUIdWw2tCwoVFGe-x7SlYCd5bNTTSyxcH4KS_lJ3smg36tyAEGTcit8eRNhcOns7djGlh5wS55NGfBmthxweZ9CHIY_NgTk02LQIAHeuPRcu03ftg0o/s640/DSC_9530_Under_Cover_of_Night.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Under Cover of Night</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTVYyJDLEnGHG7TX3ASn21Gb-rk2N_XLmg4JCvwagu-xf3Q3LWr_LcRqBexSdIujaY8q3DkQwODLJRG2CW-zB73ZpzPCaLFnZCPQKKr6wEMCKQbWm3-SCvsOyoQ8AvA4KDZ-lsL0J3I0w/s1600/DSC_9551_Pursuit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTVYyJDLEnGHG7TX3ASn21Gb-rk2N_XLmg4JCvwagu-xf3Q3LWr_LcRqBexSdIujaY8q3DkQwODLJRG2CW-zB73ZpzPCaLFnZCPQKKr6wEMCKQbWm3-SCvsOyoQ8AvA4KDZ-lsL0J3I0w/s640/DSC_9551_Pursuit.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pursuit</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I didn't even ask for Natalie to come at me through these weeds and I'm so glad I had my camera ready when she reached for me. The effect was chilling.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBnuFG5cYFEzaErodgih4fkbCi-H9XHP5bRtLWDCBViHPJG7tuXWuQpABvpfOKLvgHddN0opUkoESjcprFLlmzlkzs7qoZ_gWgReyIFFgc_kUDAqBpuiw0ToLW1E4RRkUnihRoypaqJ2k/s1600/DSC_9567_Sinister_Intentions.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBnuFG5cYFEzaErodgih4fkbCi-H9XHP5bRtLWDCBViHPJG7tuXWuQpABvpfOKLvgHddN0opUkoESjcprFLlmzlkzs7qoZ_gWgReyIFFgc_kUDAqBpuiw0ToLW1E4RRkUnihRoypaqJ2k/s640/DSC_9567_Sinister_Intentions.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sinister Intentions</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This one might be my favorite since I used three flashes, one from the front, Judith holding one near her face on the model's right and then Mike was backlighting the models hair. I love this effect.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSO-TB_UakR5_dkN8OFRqRfPlxWCMTyjB6jTGwh_j9afxZy_PjoCqHlKwFn_OKbsVSeyLK9qnBHFIc3khwDzI7fZXUFp6Qwq6d-tUXyAaHxFyXBoXabK23Mw5GUoSbXe_DQFOz3kzVRlo/s1600/DSC_9583_The_First_Morning_Light.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSO-TB_UakR5_dkN8OFRqRfPlxWCMTyjB6jTGwh_j9afxZy_PjoCqHlKwFn_OKbsVSeyLK9qnBHFIc3khwDzI7fZXUFp6Qwq6d-tUXyAaHxFyXBoXabK23Mw5GUoSbXe_DQFOz3kzVRlo/s400/DSC_9583_The_First_Morning_Light.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The First Morning Light</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhzSYoJNuHzF23ZwMoiqKjwYCDFy_psgYqEhCTIYZxzhE0TZiupAutQdtiaT-HK5TODcwlIC7o1whdQURonD7IqXRLVPVJ-YJ83Xi-l4FbsfI9_k32k11o6vgMsRi5zUK2SMYBpUDUQzs/s1600/DSC_9621_The_Light_of_Day.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhzSYoJNuHzF23ZwMoiqKjwYCDFy_psgYqEhCTIYZxzhE0TZiupAutQdtiaT-HK5TODcwlIC7o1whdQURonD7IqXRLVPVJ-YJ83Xi-l4FbsfI9_k32k11o6vgMsRi5zUK2SMYBpUDUQzs/s640/DSC_9621_The_Light_of_Day.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Light of Day</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I'm very excited about this one since I created the sunlight in post processing. It was my first attempt and I loved the result.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaN_HmcfUE0uZOsgtsQaIu5WMokGPN7IyQe_mSKnk9z5L8DblVs-Uz-17LlVUc2ieTfIu2vsqbAjxQ0f2WtyFQWggCnOc3ETA-PYUfC9otfSmiyC6lokHwezkD2YWpl1ulOxM4e0HsfKo/s1600/DSC_9659_Predator.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaN_HmcfUE0uZOsgtsQaIu5WMokGPN7IyQe_mSKnk9z5L8DblVs-Uz-17LlVUc2ieTfIu2vsqbAjxQ0f2WtyFQWggCnOc3ETA-PYUfC9otfSmiyC6lokHwezkD2YWpl1ulOxM4e0HsfKo/s640/DSC_9659_Predator.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Predator</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzi1LASsaw4tzP9O0g0ioVrvJL7UczWWjiQ_VnwylIflY1DMH-RuFfcg85UMa2R3ktCK2twqP9vi50vsOL9GEVn0dpUINn8E7MilReOpuUPosPus3uMoT9mTEAaFFdbUcePDtxNxYPf5M/s1600/DSC_9767_The_Bride_Wore_Blood.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzi1LASsaw4tzP9O0g0ioVrvJL7UczWWjiQ_VnwylIflY1DMH-RuFfcg85UMa2R3ktCK2twqP9vi50vsOL9GEVn0dpUINn8E7MilReOpuUPosPus3uMoT9mTEAaFFdbUcePDtxNxYPf5M/s640/DSC_9767_The_Bride_Wore_Blood.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Bride Wore White</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0FmAitGZGxhLZwC22zl3Ev8qB37wf0LGBUxIk7W3g5f8vggKvTRdFrnHvG6X1cEgrXGiyyRKfpT-ytuPt7rdMBJPpyR8MJ68sc6XYLrYpwksFo5XZ8VfgQjOhs9a9pXuzog8apRg0SP0/s1600/DSC_9808_Into_the_Eyes_of_Evil.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0FmAitGZGxhLZwC22zl3Ev8qB37wf0LGBUxIk7W3g5f8vggKvTRdFrnHvG6X1cEgrXGiyyRKfpT-ytuPt7rdMBJPpyR8MJ68sc6XYLrYpwksFo5XZ8VfgQjOhs9a9pXuzog8apRg0SP0/s640/DSC_9808_Into_the_Eyes_of_Evil.jpg" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Into the Eyes of Evil</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
For more photos and stories, check out my website at <b><a href="http://www.lizzieflower.com/">www.lizzieflower.com</a></b><br />
Follow me:<br />
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Twitter @lizzieflower<br />
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<br />
Peace and Love,<br />
Lizzie<br />
<br />Lizzie Flowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12359412560617441373noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694092833250872012.post-51407676220341488672018-07-13T21:48:00.004-07:002018-10-21T17:25:04.623-07:00Candelaria Ghost Town AnniversaryOn Sunday, June 24th 2018 Jim and I celebrated our first year of marriage and I would wager a bet that no one reading this has celebrated an anniversary in quite the same manner that we did.<br />
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Neither of us are great romantics nor do we have grand expectations when it comes to birthdays or anniversaries so making plans to celebrate our first full year together was easy. We didn't really plan it and we just let it happen.<br />
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We had already decided to head out to our favorite place in Nevada, the ghost town of Aurora, before we realized that our stay would include our anniversary. We had already spent two full days running around the sagebrush and kicking up dust in our side-by-side and had decided that we were going to run over to the ghost town of Candelaria, NV sooner or later.<br />
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Candelaria is a small spot on a dusty rock road about 60 miles northwest of Tonopah, NV. If you've never been to Nevada I will describe it briefly for you. The sun shines constantly, the air is brutally dry and the wind blows relentlessly. That being said, I can barely describe to you the misery that lays itself upon you as you drive through the barren sandy valleys that are lined in every direction by rocky and equally barren mountain ranges.<br />
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There are very few trees and the ones you see are limited to the tiny deteriorating towns that are stumbled upon as you travel east across the high desert of Nevada. I come from Iowa and Nebraska where every yard is lush and green so this is quite startling to me.<br />
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You would think by this description that I loathe Nevada but the truth is that I love the high desert as long as I'm on the western edge of it romping among the lush Sierra Nevadas. If you take me too far into the interior of the state I soon suffocate in the barren loneliness of the mountains and sagebrush and I find it quite amazing that there are people who settle there and call it home.<br />
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When the morning of June 24th started, Jim asked me if I would like to go to Candelaria for our anniversary instead of hanging around Hawthorne, NV where our RV was parked. I was interested in this since I knew that Jim's family had some history in Candelaria but there was one bit of business that I wanted to attend to first.<br />
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The day before when as we headed into Aurora I had caught a glimpse of a bright and beautiful yellow flower along the side of the road. Jim is alway patient and eager to pull over and let me photograph a flower for as long as I like but I didn't ask him to stop, instead I told him that there was a flower that I wanted to stop and photograph on the way back.<br />
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By the time we returned that afternoon, the blazing desert sun had caused the flower to close, wilt and look like a pitiful mess. I took pictures of it anyway but I was sad that I'd missed the opportunity to photograph this gorgeous flower and since it was apparent that the flower blooms in the night and closes when the heat of the day arrives, I'd asked Jim if we could return early the next day to get a shot of this flower. Mind you that this area is 30 miles into the mountains from where our RV is parked where he roads are so rough that we rarely exceed 25 miles per hour when traveling there and much of the roads are designated as 4x4 only.<br />
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When we woke up on our anniversary, Jim asked if I'd like to have lunch in Candelaria and I eagerly agreed but asked if he'd be willing to drive me into the mountains to take a picture of the elusive yellow flower I'd seen the day before. He graciously obliged me and I'm happy to say I was able to spend several moments with this wildflower.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOYZi5W36k7MX0wHY2cVU3QeF4HcAllCYH8YKiyh5Beaz5UPyJShurnlAVi84uXPW0yD1H7w42EyTNYGr2nf97O3RnG8euo7MCJ6GSL4cmXw8OpF2BNTT4uhmxMRH_LawbvbpsDb-DRVo/s1600/DSC_6217.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOYZi5W36k7MX0wHY2cVU3QeF4HcAllCYH8YKiyh5Beaz5UPyJShurnlAVi84uXPW0yD1H7w42EyTNYGr2nf97O3RnG8euo7MCJ6GSL4cmXw8OpF2BNTT4uhmxMRH_LawbvbpsDb-DRVo/s640/DSC_6217.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smooth Stem Blazing Star</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I like to think of this flower as "Our Flower" because I took it's picture on our anniversary and went to great lengths to get the shots. Basically, it took 2 hours of travel and a terrible amount of dirt and dust to get a picture of the ditch weed I would come to know as the "Smooth Stem Blazing Star".<br />
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I only found one or two of these blooms so I felt quite lucky to have captured this elusive plant only to find two weeks later upon our return that the entire area was covered with these yellow flowers. I felt a little silly for taking us so far out of the way to take the pictures when the hillsides would be covered with them in the following weeks but to tell the truth, it was worth the effort.<br />
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On our way to find Candelaria, we wondered around the ghost town of Columbus which was one of the saddest spots I've ever driven around. I kept seeing what looked like tufts of soft fuzziness and I finally asked Jim to stop. I took my camera out expecting to see nothing but what I discovered were these thorn covered cactus. Not the soft fuzzy plant I was expecting to photograph but amazing to see nonetheless.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimQ_o6nKCZim_mVTtFCa3yS-_lfqrkqQ2f3AT8tj8CtKDDbFFD9vj8_FEOrUptgh3CGANIgpGZFa23NbQeLaCOYKyB0VtGGH_pmmSyxw8csZ43lG5LBg70ZgQBMeL7F0pQ4nrGM5gs-ss/s1600/DSC_6238.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimQ_o6nKCZim_mVTtFCa3yS-_lfqrkqQ2f3AT8tj8CtKDDbFFD9vj8_FEOrUptgh3CGANIgpGZFa23NbQeLaCOYKyB0VtGGH_pmmSyxw8csZ43lG5LBg70ZgQBMeL7F0pQ4nrGM5gs-ss/s640/DSC_6238.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cactus</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We had gone around the mountain from south side and after a long bumpy and slow ride, we came to a gate. We felt tired and defeated and hungry and I wanted to call the day a bust and head back to the RV but Jim wasn't done exploring. Due to the narrowness of the road and the high rocks on either side, Jim had to back out a great amount of the way. To get off the road ran the risk of putting a hole in a tire and trust me, help would not be coming soon since there was absolutely no traffic on these roads and we hadn't had cell service for over an hour.<br />
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We drove back around the mountain and tried to find Candelaria from the other side (the touristy side) and found success. There were very few structures remaining in the town and most of the mill was gone except for the lava rock foundations seen here.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh51Iiltt6nNCbaCZjBDpNAwYavr_xqv2stfCQoaU0bxImaarGRf3vThxc-z6NUyLYVtCl-NU-ZVaK-pzCYrgNYNIHTz22Djah0f26nKyieLrUzJ61B8P_CNWuyiSTVeIqQF7HXuvQ3VpQ/s1600/DSC_6280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh51Iiltt6nNCbaCZjBDpNAwYavr_xqv2stfCQoaU0bxImaarGRf3vThxc-z6NUyLYVtCl-NU-ZVaK-pzCYrgNYNIHTz22Djah0f26nKyieLrUzJ61B8P_CNWuyiSTVeIqQF7HXuvQ3VpQ/s640/DSC_6280.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lava Rock remains of the Candelaria Silver Ore Mill</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
When you enter a ghost town, there are very few bricks remaining even though there may have been several brick buildings when the town was in it's glory. When a gold or silver town would boom, they would build brick buildings and then when the town would go bust, they would sometimes disassemble the buildings and move the building materials to the next boom town. On other occasions, bricks and building materials would get looted by the builders of other boom towns. On a much sadder note, in modern times there are visitors who remove artifacts and take them as souvenirs.<br />
<br />
<b>I beg of you, please do not remove or move anything you find in a ghost town or other historical site. First of all, it's against the antiquities laws and second, when you move or remove an item from an archeological site, you remove the ability for the next person to enjoy discovering the remnants of our past.</b><br />
<br />
Most of the bricks we find are blank but this town had it's own brick yard and apparently it was the Snowbal brickyard because most of the remaining bricks were stamped "Snowbal". To discover this, I had to put broken bricks together to spell it out. I am not sure why they did not include the second "l" in the word snowball.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigK9E0vpyir8NPwa28Z0-oOaNgage1vVF4SctwZAV8hKhX5_GRHANNlXHvxK_QTq2w4zN3rTr9KBK2Hvhd0aZGN1BS3bKsC38xNTpAj0ZSwtIryjRu5XikoJ8PAnsthJFdCgtCFK469OI/s1600/DSC_6274.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigK9E0vpyir8NPwa28Z0-oOaNgage1vVF4SctwZAV8hKhX5_GRHANNlXHvxK_QTq2w4zN3rTr9KBK2Hvhd0aZGN1BS3bKsC38xNTpAj0ZSwtIryjRu5XikoJ8PAnsthJFdCgtCFK469OI/s320/DSC_6274.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brick from the "Snowbal" Brickyard</td></tr>
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<br />
Jim and I decided to have our anniversary lunch at the top of the dilapidated mill. Jim is quite the reconstituter of dehydrated meals. I would feel safe to say that he is a gourmet at the JetBoil.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-jtEV7i4AQ58YEd0gh5ROMvKkX1qG9iTTfBo4Nkss8f_AzRyP44ZlQz8DmERcTgipjdUl29W0TE39jhc2q6HpRlOz5_nVvicpz5ixP_Oyykj5b4YR3eYgNwjfO16O8od3FDBeA3tw4D0/s1600/DSC_6267.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-jtEV7i4AQ58YEd0gh5ROMvKkX1qG9iTTfBo4Nkss8f_AzRyP44ZlQz8DmERcTgipjdUl29W0TE39jhc2q6HpRlOz5_nVvicpz5ixP_Oyykj5b4YR3eYgNwjfO16O8od3FDBeA3tw4D0/s640/DSC_6267.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cartoni Anniversary Dinner</td></tr>
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<br />
As we ate lunch looking over the town of Candelaria, Jim pointed out the southmost of the two remaining stonewalls. As you can see below, there isn't much left of the once sprawling town of Candelaria. You can see a stone wall on the left, a stone wall to the right and above that, the town cemetery.<br />
<br />
The stone wall to the right was the building his grandmother had worked in as a young woman. It had been owned by her brother-in-law Ben Edwards and it was where she would meet her beau, Jim's grandfather Edward Scott.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtgsTQdC9ea8sF8JnwMmxJRpUJFoudjfUi5gTGBhUi3UTLuxZGu5NojotqsSBmfKglq1q4FmZyx-ixoLVTf9XK5Y4yJnk98W8OfkwYxUDqwP3qMiNXzSS1dI4KC0oUA0Mn-BjknpnOt0o/s1600/DSC_6240.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtgsTQdC9ea8sF8JnwMmxJRpUJFoudjfUi5gTGBhUi3UTLuxZGu5NojotqsSBmfKglq1q4FmZyx-ixoLVTf9XK5Y4yJnk98W8OfkwYxUDqwP3qMiNXzSS1dI4KC0oUA0Mn-BjknpnOt0o/s640/DSC_6240.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our view of Candelaria during lunch</td></tr>
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<br />
Below, I found these photos of the town main street, the store/post office is the second building from the left that is made of stone and the men are standing on the porch. This photo is taken from the book by Lorena Edwards Meadows called, "A Sagebrush Heritage"<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXtO6lo-n4v3JORjgaxPCxc1ptI3yh0dRLjhWX7_1zDaiHP62_fbHChAst6BO8aNAQAW6g9gXytJuZ9d-Q3wwgERKKXdGqjv1fJd6EKhaP-uqb0B1M4yAwu1q0eLglfa1AYEVIhn3T2lY/s1600/IMG_6607.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1036" data-original-width="1600" height="414" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXtO6lo-n4v3JORjgaxPCxc1ptI3yh0dRLjhWX7_1zDaiHP62_fbHChAst6BO8aNAQAW6g9gXytJuZ9d-Q3wwgERKKXdGqjv1fJd6EKhaP-uqb0B1M4yAwu1q0eLglfa1AYEVIhn3T2lY/s640/IMG_6607.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The stone bank building in Candelaria where Jim's Grandmother met his Grandfather</td></tr>
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<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgriUYeDdvlzo1LtL3NUdByBGtlzn_NkuSVocAMrbfzan2prMGna-lAIzifkyRUmIy8Sv4PBhu2UXIVSZq-Ua_SNjd9XMGKcNxpeLenrDqcPSwIuM4n9dgbmPP8YvyIsHMJ6EDjqr_dtbs/s1600/IMG_6610.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="961" data-original-width="1600" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgriUYeDdvlzo1LtL3NUdByBGtlzn_NkuSVocAMrbfzan2prMGna-lAIzifkyRUmIy8Sv4PBhu2UXIVSZq-Ua_SNjd9XMGKcNxpeLenrDqcPSwIuM4n9dgbmPP8YvyIsHMJ6EDjqr_dtbs/s640/IMG_6610.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Credit to "A Sagebrush Heritage" by Lorena Edwards Meadows<br />
Candelaria 1888<br />
6 points to the flagpole in front of the bank where the grandparents met</td></tr>
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<br />
On page 69 of the book, the building was described like this by the newspaper,<br />
"The walls are marvels of strength and durability and will remain in place until the crack of doom".<br />
My later photos will prove that this is unlikely.<br />
<br />
The building was later used as the Ben Edwards' Bank and general store. The post office was moved to the brick building next door when Ben Edwards took over because it is said that he had so much merchandise there was no room for a post office.<br />
<br />
In those later years when the building became Ben Edwards' Bank, general store and Wells Fargo Company office the history of Jim's family began to take shape.<br />
<br />
Jim's great grandfather Richard Barlow had died in Aurora leaving his wife and children. They had moved several times before they moved to Candelaria in 1890 so the sons could work in the mines to support the family. The young Barlow boys earned $3.00 a day for a 12 hour shift.<br />
<br />
Ben Edwards, already living in Candelaria, was a charming and ambitious young man that much of the town respected. When the Barlow family came to town, including Jim's great Aunt Lou, the young Mr. Edwards only had eyes for the lovely Lou Barlow. They were later married and Ben went from doing the muckiest work as a miner to being a banker and businessman.<br />
<br />
When Ben owned the bank and general store, (around 1900) he hired his young sister-in-law Bessie (Jim's Grandmother) to manage the general store. Ms. Meadows wrote in her book that the store was visited by the likes of Wyatt Earp and the book has a picture of a bill of sale to Mr. Earp for $12.75 worth of merchandise. I wonder sometimes if it was Jim's grandmother who entered into the transaction with the famous lawman.<br />
<br />
It was in this store around 1902 that a young man, Edward Scott, came into town and noticed the young Bessie Barlow and swept her off her feet. They were soon married and since Edward had just made a $40,000 fortune in gold in just two weeks, he took his bride on a whirlwind tour around the world. After the year was over, they returned to Nevada and made their home in the state.<br />
<br />
Their daughter Anna Lorena Scott married James Mario Cartoni and is the mother of my husband and so here we are, in this dusty ghost town dreaming of the past and gently visiting this historic location with extreme reverence.<br />
<br />
There were lots of things going on in this town at one time and you can't help but look at the traces of life in these abandoned piles of stone and decomposing wood and tin and realize that there was once a bustling town where lives were being made, couples were falling in love and getting married. There was once love, joy and tragedy but the only sound that remains is the blowing of the wind and the occasional buzzing of an insect in my ear.<br />
<br />
Ms Meadows' book also describes a meteorite hitting. Here is an exert from her book "An otherwise dull year, 1894 brought a staggering spectacle to Candelaria. on the night of February first, a meteor fell. The awesome event was described by Fred Corkill in a letter to the editor of the Mining and Scientific Press.<br />
<br />
"The thermometer registered 15 degrees above zero. At ten o'clock, seven minutes, a brilliant meteor appeared, coming from the southwest. It made a tremendous illumination. So intense was it in brilliance that those who were out of doors were dazed, but few could tell whence it came or whither it went. It was a dazzling, electric blue, lasting about four seconds,. It brought all who were awake to their doors, awe stricken, thinking some slumbering crater had burst into flame. Thirty seconds later a terrific explosion occurred, like tons of dynamite suddenly exploding, shaking the hills and echoing through the rocky caverns,<br />
<br />
"It was like a huge bombshell hurled in our midst. There followed a boiling and sizzling roar like an immense mass of red hot iron cooling in water. The sound grew fainter and gradually died away.<br />
<br />
"Those who were sleeping and did not see the illumination were aroused and rushed out of doors, supposing it to be an earthquake, or the crack of doom.<br />
<br />
"When the snow melts and the focus of the explosion is definitely located, a search will be made for the meteorite. None who heard or saw this will forget it, and they will relate it in future years as a great event; nor will anyone here desire to be nearer to those celestial bombs than he was this night. Some ducked their heads to let it go by and considered it a very close shot for a star."<br />
<br />
How exciting that meteor must have been and I wonder if they ever found it.<br />
<br />
I can only imagine the past and the sound of the mill on the hill overlooking the town as it crushed the rock to extract the silver ore that this mountain bled for a few short bountiful years and when the mountain stopped bleeding silver ore, the town began to disappear and families moved on to other prosperous areas.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAaqH1pKRmdpb1i9doM1b_2Vo3vzjnbQfIRKMxki_ja0koXxtpR6NvWp5giEeoNZtVbWUT2K8wx5c_udicAqkbIztaqQelej9ZSgajdHWvuMmSNCp4JE0BxgvSrAhbaGHB14KboNLGsQo/s1600/DSC_6285.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAaqH1pKRmdpb1i9doM1b_2Vo3vzjnbQfIRKMxki_ja0koXxtpR6NvWp5giEeoNZtVbWUT2K8wx5c_udicAqkbIztaqQelej9ZSgajdHWvuMmSNCp4JE0BxgvSrAhbaGHB14KboNLGsQo/s640/DSC_6285.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The front of the Ben Edwards' Bank and general store 2018<br />
There is no remnant of the flag pole or boardwalks.<br />
The remnants of neighboring buildings in the previous pictures are also gone.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSAiU3Tk32zaUsUaU4ISU9IFowPR3kGCNFKMetlKaviKEVwmgwyJAq1AuZmVp4ZCkRYcd6LQWBimNqD6sY_L47UsfUi_sjUw3Rq8uquqnknjyrUneZ2snucHwcj_OOjo9PXByWeDRmtcc/s1600/DSC_6286.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSAiU3Tk32zaUsUaU4ISU9IFowPR3kGCNFKMetlKaviKEVwmgwyJAq1AuZmVp4ZCkRYcd6LQWBimNqD6sY_L47UsfUi_sjUw3Rq8uquqnknjyrUneZ2snucHwcj_OOjo9PXByWeDRmtcc/s640/DSC_6286.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quoted; the True Fissure newspaper, 1880, "The iron doors have been set in place...."</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwYRlLjdXlaUX6pbrdt8rLRvp1z_ynfVFlMolO_zuuJl8-ze_IAFAM79VvyJO8wOl5xzFZ8pM1PVI3R8-m4fYO-eWzgruddtM1wYk4NOtoSIVJ4Tb4dQYo8V-SL4rcrvzycmFZ4BUgieo/s1600/DSC_6290.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwYRlLjdXlaUX6pbrdt8rLRvp1z_ynfVFlMolO_zuuJl8-ze_IAFAM79VvyJO8wOl5xzFZ8pM1PVI3R8-m4fYO-eWzgruddtM1wYk4NOtoSIVJ4Tb4dQYo8V-SL4rcrvzycmFZ4BUgieo/s320/DSC_6290.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2018<br />
The remains of the bank</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXtO6lo-n4v3JORjgaxPCxc1ptI3yh0dRLjhWX7_1zDaiHP62_fbHChAst6BO8aNAQAW6g9gXytJuZ9d-Q3wwgERKKXdGqjv1fJd6EKhaP-uqb0B1M4yAwu1q0eLglfa1AYEVIhn3T2lY/s1600/IMG_6607.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1036" data-original-width="1600" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXtO6lo-n4v3JORjgaxPCxc1ptI3yh0dRLjhWX7_1zDaiHP62_fbHChAst6BO8aNAQAW6g9gXytJuZ9d-Q3wwgERKKXdGqjv1fJd6EKhaP-uqb0B1M4yAwu1q0eLglfa1AYEVIhn3T2lY/s320/IMG_6607.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1888<br />
The bank in the center of the picture</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx31cwkgPq7zJF5YaqA-ZkAgQIXzmRZ1ubhb0gNZpbGm1vCmzBCIFioqQiXGYc2hVV71lZaDCgdS45xonIGT8BNYgQHf3KWsTYwrxUXIRTuhrR238Hayf9IVUGzkJutvd8fH6d6h6q6DY/s1600/DSC_6298.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx31cwkgPq7zJF5YaqA-ZkAgQIXzmRZ1ubhb0gNZpbGm1vCmzBCIFioqQiXGYc2hVV71lZaDCgdS45xonIGT8BNYgQHf3KWsTYwrxUXIRTuhrR238Hayf9IVUGzkJutvd8fH6d6h6q6DY/s640/DSC_6298.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of the Ben Edwards' Bank from the back, note the strong box in the foreground<br />
In the background, the tailings pile from the mine<br />
Tailings are what remains after crushing the ore from the rock</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Behind the bank/store and to the west, these three structures can be seen. I have several views of these structures. I'm not sure if they were businesses or residences. In mining towns including the silver mine town of Candelaria, most miners lived in veritable holes in the ground with roofs made from flattened oil tins nailed together. Evidence of these small structures are all but gone but considering the cold and snowy Nevada winters, I can't imagine the existence to have much pleasure.<br />
<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />
For the businessmen and investors of the mines, life was good and the town hosted dances and social events not to dissimilar from the big cities on the coast.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
One can only imagine who lived in these dwellings.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaF1UwPslq-6tE_flxGo4A86wE49rRGFnVc4qTllBXap96279raaSoOZ3lVhcglkODa3ilkL39-XnIZ-eiJ6DUXqf5LyFcKXdJZVboaaVmQjGJ-gqUS6cIQi9zZT_f_gNaSKX7TX6VM0w/s1600/DSC_6293.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaF1UwPslq-6tE_flxGo4A86wE49rRGFnVc4qTllBXap96279raaSoOZ3lVhcglkODa3ilkL39-XnIZ-eiJ6DUXqf5LyFcKXdJZVboaaVmQjGJ-gqUS6cIQi9zZT_f_gNaSKX7TX6VM0w/s640/DSC_6293.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption">Behind the bank and to the west are these three neighboring structures.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Here are the photos of the building on the North side of the Main Street. Unfortunately, this building has been vandalized to great extent.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ6HBUVO4roKgTrf-jokccxGIY3eWqkoHcM7HEE2GoJTaFdJxzvrow3GE0xh0ZlCLhDliumWi9A5eqCsoQ33362wx2P5ZL-UAZYxBKjsY8kIWMDPfhk7q8uRvRvpIVdp6HurYeDVYVycA/s1600/DSC_6307.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ6HBUVO4roKgTrf-jokccxGIY3eWqkoHcM7HEE2GoJTaFdJxzvrow3GE0xh0ZlCLhDliumWi9A5eqCsoQ33362wx2P5ZL-UAZYxBKjsY8kIWMDPfhk7q8uRvRvpIVdp6HurYeDVYVycA/s640/DSC_6307.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Other remaining standing building in Candelaria. I am unsure of it's use but it is very well built</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglsfZtkeBE41-X_Z5USCVEK7048Eut8PMObj3kNQA1RBbMQU3WDA-_YOJwYWdrX8hyYU3sbarlEPGsYwqhQjhnSq2xXk4GALg_OZeIsnArHPoi7Q8sDIZbQ2emWN2PPJBXSEDVqzbR1SE/s1600/DSC_6314.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglsfZtkeBE41-X_Z5USCVEK7048Eut8PMObj3kNQA1RBbMQU3WDA-_YOJwYWdrX8hyYU3sbarlEPGsYwqhQjhnSq2xXk4GALg_OZeIsnArHPoi7Q8sDIZbQ2emWN2PPJBXSEDVqzbR1SE/s640/DSC_6314.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from inside of the other building<br />
Candelaria Silver Mine can be seen out of the front windows</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Besides a few other small piles of rubble that were once homes, and a cemetery of unmarked graves, not much remains of Candelaria.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl2eykKOSE2t4jM-tflQQ8LHmQ2OZ6zMe5Wl39LgGckRC8RwmPALb5SUx4CD8euLUF0tb7veYsKMd-TGAbKRrmGODcqQdfbArQ0dBK0c7CGzD7IZiXI66Lvhs8Qd10LBUb9fJ_LGGKlCE/s1600/DSC_6320.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl2eykKOSE2t4jM-tflQQ8LHmQ2OZ6zMe5Wl39LgGckRC8RwmPALb5SUx4CD8euLUF0tb7veYsKMd-TGAbKRrmGODcqQdfbArQ0dBK0c7CGzD7IZiXI66Lvhs8Qd10LBUb9fJ_LGGKlCE/s320/DSC_6320.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Unidentifiable Grave in the Candelaria Cemetery</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Overall, I would say that it was one of the best days of my life.<br />
<br />
I was thrilled to sit on that hill looking over the foundation of an old silver ore mill to eat reconstituted Beef Stroganoff with the man I love.<br />
<br />
We sat quietly looking over the town that barely exists when out of the quiet my husband says, "Don't say I didn't take you anywhere special for our anniversary."<br />
<br />
<br />
Peace and Love,<br />
<br />
Lizzie<br />
<br />
<br />
For more photos and stories, check out my website at <b><a href="http://www.lizzieflower.com/">www.lizzieflower.com</a></b><br />
Follow me:<br />
Instagram @thelizzieflower<br />
Twitter @lizzieflower<br />
Snapchat (I don't do Snapchat because it's for children and I don't like it)<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Lizzie Flowerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12359412560617441373noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694092833250872012.post-39158323022402651902015-12-25T10:56:00.000-08:002018-10-21T17:25:21.444-07:00It was a ZOTZ Kind of Christmas<br />
Do you know what a ZOTZ is?<br />
<br />
This is what a ZOTZ looks like:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGOiXN-6opbib5zojMoZ2TEXg7ub7iNRufems2PwZpTvIIKfTsavFBKz2SAFJB5RHPArOHbC7hGq1bYOyj_SQQqEaV3HPC2HxSOMsHdxVMcSiOV2oy1IQ3oHVUWQ2ginfkLGIC5dbDguE/s1600/DSC00335.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGOiXN-6opbib5zojMoZ2TEXg7ub7iNRufems2PwZpTvIIKfTsavFBKz2SAFJB5RHPArOHbC7hGq1bYOyj_SQQqEaV3HPC2HxSOMsHdxVMcSiOV2oy1IQ3oHVUWQ2ginfkLGIC5dbDguE/s200/DSC00335.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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And this is what a ZOTZ tastes like:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbC0OXZeZDqM7OYpBT2BKd4p002vMNOQ83ZrHLwrXyOKR2DMp1t4yXmZzBpCSpzXpmabs1DAWoeuRtqVzW2A3lgI-T_L8SSLJo9pO_gMXLNh6GG4r3I1JjGYRc04QKfsZsllsvv1Jp6XM/s1600/Fireworks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="763" data-original-width="1086" height="140" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbC0OXZeZDqM7OYpBT2BKd4p002vMNOQ83ZrHLwrXyOKR2DMp1t4yXmZzBpCSpzXpmabs1DAWoeuRtqVzW2A3lgI-T_L8SSLJo9pO_gMXLNh6GG4r3I1JjGYRc04QKfsZsllsvv1Jp6XM/s200/Fireworks.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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Let me describe them to you. ZOTZ are a tangy hard candy
that is filled with a powdery crushed alka seltzer type substance that, when it
comes in contact with your saliva, explodes with such a taste bud crushing
flavor that your saliva glands spasm with ecstasy. It is... an <em>ORGASM IN
YOUR MOUTH</em>.</div>
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I never got ZOTZ as a kid. We didn't have much money in
fact, for the first several years of my life in the 60's and 70’s I would call
us downright poor. I can remember one Christmas when someone put us on a “Toys
for Tots” kind of list and free presents were brought to us. My dad's ego and
pride were crushed and I still can't remember if we were allowed to keep the
presents. All I remember is that he was humiliated. </div>
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I can remember a carpet so thin you could see the floor
through it and the upholstery on our couch was so worn that the stuffing
threatened to push through but my 3 brothers and I were fed and watered
regularly and to tell you the truth, I didn't think much of my meager
existence. My mother had created a happy, loving and fulfilling home.</div>
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There was a place in my hometown near Bancroft school named
Pilkington’s. It was a small neighborhood grocery that was filled with the most
exotic candy I had ever seen. </div>
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There were…. </div>
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Big Red Wax lips you could hold
between your teeth then chew on the wax till you were so disgusted you spit it
out; </div>
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Wax soda bottles filled with a liquid that did not taste like soda at all.
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You could chew on these too but why would you? </div>
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Hey, what was with the idea of wax
for candy in the 60’s and 70’s anyway? </div>
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There were candy cigarettes rolled in paper
and powdered sugar so when you blew on them, a little tuft of smoke would puff
out </div>
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(No wonder my generation smoked so much); </div>
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Ice Cubes; </div>
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Space Dust; </div>
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Bottle
Caps </div>
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and Candy Buttons which were really just drops of hard, dried colored
sugar… disgusting!</div>
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I would walk to Pilkington’s with my friends and I’d watch
them, their pockets filled with cash from their parents. They would take their
time, looking at every candy and laboring over the burden of having to choose
just one.</div>
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So that no one knew I was poor, I would look over the candy
too and act like I was having trouble choosing which candy to buy but the
difference was that my pockets were empty and if my father caught me at
Pilkington’s I was quite certain it would result in a sound beating and
possible death. </div>
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In the end, I would act like I simply just couldn’t chose
and to perpetuate the lie if offered candy, I would kindly refuse and say I
wasn’t in the mood for sweets. As a result each of the few times I went to
Pilkington’s, I ended up with no candy at all.</div>
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The one candy I most envied and found it very hard to say no
to was called ZOTZ. If I remember right they came in strips of 10 for a quarter
(I think they were a dime at one time but it was the 70’s and inflation affected
candy too). When you wanted a ZOTZ, you just tore one off the end of the strip,
popped it in your mouth and slobbered till the candy popped open and the
fireworks began. </div>
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My ZOTZ experience was very limited… </div>
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A couple of years ago shortly after I started dating my boyfriend at the time,
I told him the story of Pilkington’s and described a ZOTZ. He had a hard time
imagining this candy or the reason for any enjoyment in the experience of
eating it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thanks to the Internet I was
able to search for images of ZOTZ and show him what they looked like. </div>
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“When was
the last time you ate a ZOTZ?” he asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I told him the truth. It had been decades and only a handful of times. </div>
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<!--[if !supportEmptyParas]-->By the time I was earning my own money and could spend it
like I wanted to I had moved on to more mature things like wine and cigarettes.</div>
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<!--[if !supportEmptyParas]-->I had left Pilkington’s, ZOTZ and childish things behind….</div>
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<!--[if !supportEmptyParas]-->“When what to my wondering eyes should appear but a can full
of ZOTZ and some laughter and tears”</div>
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<!--[if !supportEmptyParas]-->The first present I opened this Christmas was this
tin container. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE3SBFm7XG4ffW8C1H4-LhodENwEsk0vBrzKBjj-Nqw7wWShIyWYtlTUKJykwN3sSEDhLEINcOG2_sew64Ho3eeqTAwOSZLraFhRhkXeQdgGXBRqk64zqpO6OIUCKo_Kl7vneWZl2SwXA/s1600/DSC00333.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE3SBFm7XG4ffW8C1H4-LhodENwEsk0vBrzKBjj-Nqw7wWShIyWYtlTUKJykwN3sSEDhLEINcOG2_sew64Ho3eeqTAwOSZLraFhRhkXeQdgGXBRqk64zqpO6OIUCKo_Kl7vneWZl2SwXA/s320/DSC00333.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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It is hippy dippy like me but I was unimpressed by the
package. I wasn’t going to be setting this out on the coffee table so I
suspected that there was some dark chocolate mint thing inside. </div>
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When I opened the tin, I found this instead.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnG469fndrmY2KZ9QKxWB2uohQ1eWfijbEaJ-hyNIT0ng31NkpykOaFgl0zK-nofTH0xaDcmGVltsXNxGD5wk1XC52YFf_2GBWLv_DfYW2VsKmN4Z4tk-TkQm72ytpqk93TDw7pZCHRj0/s1600/DSC00334.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnG469fndrmY2KZ9QKxWB2uohQ1eWfijbEaJ-hyNIT0ng31NkpykOaFgl0zK-nofTH0xaDcmGVltsXNxGD5wk1XC52YFf_2GBWLv_DfYW2VsKmN4Z4tk-TkQm72ytpqk93TDw7pZCHRj0/s320/DSC00334.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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It was a lifetime supply of ZOTZ! Six flavors! It looked
like hundreds, maybe thousands of ZOTZ!</div>
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He has proved over and over that he is the ultimate gift
giver. He has outdone himself this year and brought me the kind of joy that
makes you feel like a kid again. This gift made the adult Lizzie cry and the
child Lizzie laugh all at the same time. Then he drizzled the entire emotion
with love when I looked up and saw the excitement in his face. I could tell he
felt little again too. His smile was huge as he clapped his hands and jumped up
and down with me. </div>
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Mr. Pilkington and his wife have certainly passed away by
this time. They were old when I was young.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Last I knew an old friend of mine, Mike Swanson had purchased the
Pilkington’s store building and adjacent home. I had a chance to see it several
long years ago and the old store has been converted into a man cave style
garage which is very cool but it was a little sad to stand in there with the
memories I had and know I would never have the opportunity to go in there with
a pocket full of cash and buy my own ZOTZ.</div>
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I had forgotten most of these memories until last night when
I opened the tin that held the candy of my childhood dreams.</div>
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Peace and Love,</div>
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Lizzie Flower </div>
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04/24/2018 Update... The relationship with the man who gave me the Zotz back in 2015 ended the following year and I got married last June so with all due respect to both men, I have edited the lovey dovey stuff from the original post. (This is still the best gift I have ever received)</div>
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For more photos and stories, check out my website at <b><a href="http://www.lizzieflower.com/">www.lizzieflower.com</a></b><br />
Follow me:<br />
Instagram @thelizzieflower<br />
Twitter @lizzieflower<br />
Snapchat (I don't do Snapchat because it's for children and I don't like it)<br />
<br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694092833250872012.post-32068787311391191422015-05-27T15:02:00.001-07:002018-10-21T17:32:05.792-07:00Where I Get My Faith FromWell, another RAGBRAI is looming on the horizon. This will be my fourth in a row and I doubt if I'll ever get sick of the ride, the people and the atmosphere. I will be riding with Team Pez for the third year in a row and they are an amazing group of individuals. This is year 15 for the team so I wouldn't miss it for the world. I love them all.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUwYDx71ruzGuXccet_fbtvPu6ULbOwxWmKysZxhXslov9tiZoQnZmf_mIIDDS4oQE6NP2M6jBTuqzp_P1UWS0CeHHBqGQY51RJ8OjuGs5kcEIjwJp6Mpcg3ThBZFTaPXDudN01CvGg3s/s1600/CAM01817.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUwYDx71ruzGuXccet_fbtvPu6ULbOwxWmKysZxhXslov9tiZoQnZmf_mIIDDS4oQE6NP2M6jBTuqzp_P1UWS0CeHHBqGQY51RJ8OjuGs5kcEIjwJp6Mpcg3ThBZFTaPXDudN01CvGg3s/s320/CAM01817.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
This is the crew that started last year and although we have some people who join us for a day or two or leave early, there is a core group that does the whole week which ended up being 7 days of riding and over 450 miles if you do the extra Karras Loop.<br />
<br />
In 2012, while training for RAGBRAI, I met Pat, a member of Team Pez. I could tell by the size of his quads (thighs), that he was probably a cyclist and then when we started chatting, I found out that he rides RAGBRAI every year. I told him how I was planning to ride it with my brother's family that year and how nervous and excited I was. I explained to him that I was not certain that I could take on the ride because I was at a place in my riding where my legs would cramp if I rode more than 30 miles and most of the days were 70-80 miles. I had very little confidence in myself and my ability to ride a bike across the state of Iowa.<br />
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Over the next several weeks, Pat gave me encouraging words that reassured me that the ride was something I could do. When I would talk negative, he would roll his eyes, make a "psss" sound and fling his hand at me with a brush it off kind of attitude and then he would tell me a story about people he had seen complete the ride, how fun it was and he would make me feel like the ride was attainable. <br />
<br />
By the time the actual ride came, I was so nervous I could not even sleep. Pat had given me his team information and I had given him mine (we weren't riding for the same team at that time). The evening before the ride started, Pat showed up at our camp site and again gave me words of encouragement and let me know that he was there for me and then he asked me if he could ride with me at some point in time. I knew I couldn't keep up with him but I agreed to try.<br />
<br />
When morning arrived, I departed with my brother's family and we decided to stop at Farm Boys, home of the famous breakfast burrito. If you decide to ride, veterans will advise you to have one of these burritos. We were less than 15 miles into the ride when we decided to stop and we had the good fortune to run into Pat and members of Team Pez there.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjte17unUFkJyDfVN6aPTIVPBc41iOwY4U96IjjgaXV-3q10RORZv-A-i5vuSUOzdsBbSRZDOtaKIpiHJOBQEnE_Zd9eTkKEd56YbyGjoOzvRKEGNkfTIfyNNdDZYXItY08xrSAGQEoreE/s1600/SANY0281.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjte17unUFkJyDfVN6aPTIVPBc41iOwY4U96IjjgaXV-3q10RORZv-A-i5vuSUOzdsBbSRZDOtaKIpiHJOBQEnE_Zd9eTkKEd56YbyGjoOzvRKEGNkfTIfyNNdDZYXItY08xrSAGQEoreE/s320/SANY0281.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Here is a picture we took on that day. Now, bear in mind, I'd already lost 70 or 80 lbs. when this picture was taken. I always refer to this picture when I'm not sure whether or not I should have gotten my arms reduced. It looks like I'm packing around a plastic bag full of creamed corn in each sleeve.<br />
<br />
Pat asked me to ride with him so I reluctantly let my family ride on and Pat rode with me. He mostly rode ahead of me, constantly keeping an eye on me and chatting and laughing with other riders.<br />
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He chatted with me too about all the things I'd need to do over the next 7 days and all the food vendors and activities I shouldn't miss. Every day of RAGBRAI, the Iowa Conservation people have a place where you can stop, get some cold water and a free banana. Pat talked me into stopping with him and we shared a water and banana. As we sat on the side of that hill, surrounded by cyclists, I confessed my lack of confidence to him without explanation and he talked to me about cycling and human relationships in general. The man has a million funny stories. All the time he was talking I felt a little guilty because I had a little secret. I had lost a lot of weight by that time but I had a long way to go. I felt like he couldn't possibly understand the journey I was on and I was ashamed to have to admit I didn't believe in myself.<br />
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I was never proud to say I'd lost 80 lbs when it was so obvious I had a long ways to go so I always kept silent. It was a secret I was too proud to tell. After mustering up some courage, I brought out this picture which is my official before photo. Yuck...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit1UjKc-Uv4YYkT3m3rk5VfAxTpXmOmsidkvJTljLDVdMfhme_CYn0tTOnQCsajfE2f0jAPO4EZd1E6hbGh9P1cWX65k-Ha0Ya-wnXc7J71sTjn5glleCEAeXkQ2KHdXVbPA1pZprHOwA/s1600/image-2-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="393" data-original-width="311" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit1UjKc-Uv4YYkT3m3rk5VfAxTpXmOmsidkvJTljLDVdMfhme_CYn0tTOnQCsajfE2f0jAPO4EZd1E6hbGh9P1cWX65k-Ha0Ya-wnXc7J71sTjn5glleCEAeXkQ2KHdXVbPA1pZprHOwA/s320/image-2-1.jpg" width="253" /></a></div>
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Pat, being a smooth easy going cowboy type, didn't flinch. He just scanned the photo, told me he admired what I'd done and continued talking about the different people he has seen cycle across the state. He talked about people with no legs or arms, people who were older or heavier than I was at the time who had done this ride. I listened with all my attention and wondered how this man, a near stranger could have more faith in me than I had in myself.<br />
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Since that day, I'm more open about the changes I have made in my life and I've learned to be proud of the journey I've taken instead of wallowing in the shame of my past mistakes, primarily my relationship with food. <br />
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The picture on the right was taken in April 2015.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFMhcWPdyaX4diQPJ5RklhZZSflyG7UQlrMCevwHnnVEIkhJme5IC4TLjlraaoWNjtvoA9oFmCLgdw9XkgTNgi2G5EUsbOU_Iehempj2mPPEN2SE9U_5NwKQ4e1kRXFUlUgwiKk1TDRtA/s1600/Cycling+will+Transform+you.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1519" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFMhcWPdyaX4diQPJ5RklhZZSflyG7UQlrMCevwHnnVEIkhJme5IC4TLjlraaoWNjtvoA9oFmCLgdw9XkgTNgi2G5EUsbOU_Iehempj2mPPEN2SE9U_5NwKQ4e1kRXFUlUgwiKk1TDRtA/s320/Cycling+will+Transform+you.png" width="303" /></a></div>
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2012 vs 2015</div>
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Nearly three years later and I look a little different...like 70 pounds lighter and that jersey is certainly less clingy.<br />
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Even after all this time, all these miles, all these pounds, I feel like Pat is still the source of my faith in myself. He still encourages me when I'm uncertain and he still makes me feel like I can do just about anything I set my mind to and that I deserve to enjoy the results of my efforts.<br />
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I don't know if you have a Pat in your life but if you don't, I suggest you go out and find one. Listen to him and until you have faith in yourself, let his faith in you give you strength.<br />
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I am forever grateful.<br />
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Peace and Love,<br />
<br />
Lizzie Flower<br />
<br />
"It's not pain, it's progress"<br />
<br />
For more photos and stories, check out my website at <b><a href="http://www.lizzieflower.com/">www.lizzieflower.com</a></b><br />
Follow me:<br />
Instagram @thelizzieflower<br />
Twitter @lizzieflower<br />
Snapchat (I don't do Snapchat because it's for children and I don't like it)<br />
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<br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694092833250872012.post-65597431368821724522014-07-16T09:33:00.001-07:002021-02-19T19:02:37.034-08:00I have lost 143 lbs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTkyR_yF72ywfc1O_juPLzTxc2zMuFRnktDbHxgQXvn-i3KDspLraqIqe4dCEi8TkLDqCobJ3fmZm-LDrVtTqoQMow0wx8xXIJi72LC4thyphenhyphenMnSf6O3-nadx1nGznFzntAvVRTuQBr12uE/s1600/DSC02432.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTkyR_yF72ywfc1O_juPLzTxc2zMuFRnktDbHxgQXvn-i3KDspLraqIqe4dCEi8TkLDqCobJ3fmZm-LDrVtTqoQMow0wx8xXIJi72LC4thyphenhyphenMnSf6O3-nadx1nGznFzntAvVRTuQBr12uE/s320/DSC02432.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
It's been a long time since I've posted to my blog. So much has happened between a new grandchild, a new boyfriend, my son moving home, ongoing weight loss, cycling, job change and the list goes on and on.<br />
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At first, I was distracted by my training for another bike ride across Iowa and then my granddaughter Eliza was born. Training continued and in July 2013, I rode my bike across Iowa again. Around that time, I met a man I would eventually fall in and out of love with and the next thing I know, several months have gone by and I still haven't blogged.<br />
<br />
Being a relatively private individual, it is hard for me to divulge too much of my private life on a public blog when it comes to other individuals most notably, my children, granddaughter and significant other. I will always try to refrain from giving too much information about them individually to protect their private lives.<br />
<br />
I feel blessed to have found people who share my drive to live an active and healthy lifestyle. Unfortunately, my journey continues and I still have not met all my goals. Again, I want to say that I feel blessed. I am not unappreciative of the progress I have made and I am grateful that I am loved in spite of my physical flaws.<br />
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Recently, I have been hitting some road blocks in my progress that are completely beyond my control. I find it hard to believe that the Universe has brought me this far just to drop me on my ass but I feel the need to vent some frustrations and express the joy of my achievements.<br />
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Here is some background. This journey started in 2007. I was morbidly obese and tragically unhealthy and unhappy. I had gained and lost the same 80 lbs over and over again just to gain it back plus another 10 or 15. Eventually, I weighed over 300lbs. A body photo of me is VERY rare but here is a picture of me at about the time I decided I needed to change my life.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9GjJBsctfQv6bpE1zgUYXCD4pNFrJJ6tRNOt9Rcw7Jtu-ZPSpqJnS910UpXUBR2CG9TKYp6ZX9g-zLVHRrBqwjKmM2UGN4d2Dnr50WLWLrOjsNj_aEcZR6JS-LjOOOndzPTnwflkMTsw/s1600/Lizzie+2007.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9GjJBsctfQv6bpE1zgUYXCD4pNFrJJ6tRNOt9Rcw7Jtu-ZPSpqJnS910UpXUBR2CG9TKYp6ZX9g-zLVHRrBqwjKmM2UGN4d2Dnr50WLWLrOjsNj_aEcZR6JS-LjOOOndzPTnwflkMTsw/s320/Lizzie+2007.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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2007</div>
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In this picture, I am 43 years old and I want to make note that I'm not pregnant in this picture, that is all me. I wish I could say it is some illusion caused by the clothes I was wearing but it's not.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguwU-A9gcU3ZPugVZKUhkHovgzpmqlhuxvGqJ_c4XoY3V6QKzUU_hRDnCL2oLpRJs5ugSd4uRq0F0A2vGOLADW8qMzrzI9y6i56SMufUoW3aGlQ4wplk9w9Zm9TCfdFIa7mhZcLOkBuY8/s1600/image-2-1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="393" data-original-width="311" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguwU-A9gcU3ZPugVZKUhkHovgzpmqlhuxvGqJ_c4XoY3V6QKzUU_hRDnCL2oLpRJs5ugSd4uRq0F0A2vGOLADW8qMzrzI9y6i56SMufUoW3aGlQ4wplk9w9Zm9TCfdFIa7mhZcLOkBuY8/s320/image-2-1.jpg" width="252" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMZK6OPI6pqAnex_uUQ_DjiA4tkiT3QMSnnAb9PMqI53rHwFZIey6qwq10yax26RqjfDgzzvn6FkGKLKmKvVohNDnfesNZgO2gSLk6nMmk-hIp6SNomXVNJ68_VKZV6tynTMDMGMqwR_Q/s1600/2007-06-08.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMZK6OPI6pqAnex_uUQ_DjiA4tkiT3QMSnnAb9PMqI53rHwFZIey6qwq10yax26RqjfDgzzvn6FkGKLKmKvVohNDnfesNZgO2gSLk6nMmk-hIp6SNomXVNJ68_VKZV6tynTMDMGMqwR_Q/s320/2007-06-08.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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2007</div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">My official BEFORE picture</span></div>
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In these pictures, I was preparing for my journey. I had made a conscious decision to change my life. I'm embarrassed and mortified of these and the shame I feel is indescribable but this is not me now. This person no longer exists. <em>She was killing me so I killed her first.</em><br />
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I knew that fad diets didn't work for me. Well, they worked but not permanently. They had a beginning and an end. I would hit the goal and then I'd have to start eating "normal" and the sad fact was that I simply didn't know what "normal" was so I would eventually go back to my old eating habits and the weight would return with several pounds added. I needed to find a diet that had no end.<br />
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I decided to CHANGE my diet instead of go ON a diet. I cut out processed foods almost completely. I had this weird method of monitoring my food which after 7 years, I still follow for the most part. If it's a processed food, I will not consume it if it has more than 5 ingredients. If Water, Meat, Vegetables or Fruits are on the list, they don't count as an ingredient. Spices count as one, no matter how many their are. Too complicated? Not really, after a while, it's easy to figure out. If you want a better description, let me know, I'd be happy to explain it better. Long story short, I was eating a more natural diet.<br />
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To me, processed foods are poison. Try to get me to eat a Chili Cheese Frito and see what happens. I have a place in the pantry called the "<em>sin bin</em>" which holds some treats that I eat in moderation. My shelf has granola, banana chips, kettle potato chips, almonds and dark chocolate. My boyfriend at the time bought some Chili Cheese Fritos for his sin bin. The other night we were talking after dinner while standing in the kitchen and he was eating them. I calmly took out the bar-b-que tongs and the bar-b-que lighter and took one of his Fritos and put it in the tongs and lit it with the lighter. He was shocked when I did it. I asked him, "<em>Do you know why this Frito is going up in flames and burning like this?".</em> He said, "<em>No but I think you are about to tell me</em>." I said, "<em>It's because it's full of oil and this fire represents the calories this chip holds</em>." That was enough for him. He discontinued eating the Fritos and, in fact, gave them away.<br />
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Along with the diet change, I also started moving. I walked, I eventually started riding a bike, I did Zumba and much to my dismay, I was unable to be too physical because I suffered from Diverticulosis which is a malady of the large intestine. When irritated by physical activity or certain foods such as tomatoes and strawberries, it causes EXTREME pain, infection and for me, hospitalization. I limited my movements to avoid symptoms and eventually was unable to exercise or ride bike until I decided to have a sigmoid resection in 2010 in which they removed 18" of my large intestine. I fully recovered and have NEVER regretted the surgery. I was finally able to ride my bike and exercise as much as I wanted.<br />
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I've always said, "<em><span style="background-color: white; color: blue;">I don't look good running or swimming so I don't do either</span></em>". Ironically, I've started running and swimming. I still don't look good doing them but I do it anyway. It feels good!<br />
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The pounds started to come off slowly. Again, I wasn't as much restricting my diet with volume and calories as I was restricting the content of my diet. I was eating more natural foods and I don't remember ever feeling hungry or having my stomach growl. I ate to my hearts content and I wasn't rewarding myself with one large "<em>normal</em>" dinner a week or a "<em>day off</em>" from dieting which had derailed me so many times before. I was rewarding myself with things like a piece or two of dark chocolate at the end of each day.<br />
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As the pounds came off, I decided to come up with a larger reward for my hard work. I decided that in the end, if I had changed my body like I planned, I would reward myself with some "factory new" ta ta's. I dreamed about them for the entire journey but about 100 lbs into my weight loss I began to realize that the damage I had done to my body after carrying around this weight and losing and gaining over and over again was extensive. <br />
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My abdomen became a hideous mass of flesh. My upper arms became bat wings. My inner thighs, or "crotch biscuits" as I've been calling them for the last few years have become saggy and droopy. On top of it all, I have a turtle neck. Not a sweater, the neck of a turtle. Oddly enough, the turtle neck doesn't bother me as much as the rest of the mess. I don't know why. It's not that it doesn't bother me, it's just that it doesn't bother me as much as the other issues.<br />
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A couple of weeks ago, I went to my general physician who has been following me during the weight loss and told him I'm ready to pursue some restorative surgery to remove this excess skin. He was overwhelmingly supportive and made several suggestions on how to proceed.<br />
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One thing I did find out that I did not know before was how much I had actually lost. I had never looked at a scale in the beginning but it was revealed to me that <span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;">I had lost 143 lbs</span>.</span> <br />
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I made an appointment with a cosmetic surgeon and I proceeded to have the most humiliating and humbling doctor exam of my life. They put you in a napkin sized pair of paper underwear and nothing else and start measuring, tugging and pulling and taking pictures. In the end, the doctor tells me he would rather not do the surgery. The damage is simply too extensive for him. He has referred me to a team of doctors in hopes that they can help me.<br />
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To make matters complicated, the company I work for has sold and I'm not certain the new company is going to keep our current structure and I may be unemployed at the end of next month. The date of sale is only 13 days after my appointment with the new surgeon so if I'm terminated I'm not certain I can proceed as planned. The entire time frame and plan has been up ended.<br />
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I always say, "Don't pray for money because you don't know where it's coming from if you do get it." I would hate think that I would get the money for this procedure at the expense of anyone else but if there are money elves anywhere who would like to drop some in my lap, please take it from some rich millionaire and not some struggling single mom.<br />
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I have worked so hard that it scares me to think I'll be left with all these physical issues. When I work out, I have to wear a body suit to hold the lose skin in otherwise it causes pain, discomfort, rash and other sexy things I will spare you the details of but the body suit is so hot that it causes discomfort and limitations also. And...If I don't wear the body suit it looks like I'm packing a garbage bag of creamed corn under my shirt. It's pretty icky.<br />
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This is a picture of me two months ago. I'm finishing a 5k mud run and wearing a body suit to hold it all in. That is my sister-in-law giving me the high 5's. I think I look fantastic!<br />
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2014</div>
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I know I look better and like I said before, I don't want to act unappreciative for my progress but this road block has my anxiety level way up.<br />
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<span style="color: purple;">This journey hasn't been easy, it has been full of sweat, pain and tears and I can tell you that the way I feel now is worth every bit of sweat, every sore muscle and every tear drop.</span><br />
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In 10 days, I will ride my bike across Iowa again. If I can perform a feat like that, certainly I can handle this situation.<br />
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I will keep you updated with my progress.<br />
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Love and Peace,<br />
<br />
Lizzie<br />
"It's not pain, it's progress"Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694092833250872012.post-239249594459480902014-07-14T11:36:00.000-07:002018-10-17T22:47:16.470-07:00Getting my move on - 6 days till RAGBRAI<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I know it won't make any sense to you but I was actually afraid to share my weight loss with everyone. It embarrasses me that I was ever that large and when I think about how I felt then, I can't believe I didn't take action to change my life sooner.<br />
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<em>Instead of pride I felt shame.</em> <br />
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I waited till I was well into my 40's to make a change and <em>by then, revving up my fat burning engine was next to impossible</em>. I honestly had to change EVERYTHING to make myself healthier. <br />
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When you are carrying the weight equivalent of a grown adult on your body, you begin to do things in a different way. You find more efficient ways of doing things because the mere act of performing some tasks is absolutely exhausting. Even making the bed is abbreviated. Now, when I make the bed, I may scuttle around the bed four or five times, adjusting the sheets till there isn't a wrinkle in them. The old "Plus Size Liz" had a thick comforter for the bed and I could make it from one side... tugging the sheet up and then smoothing the comforter over the whole mess.<br />
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I can remember struggling with any and all physical activity. Even when I was cleaning the house I would take breaks between rooms to get my breath back and cool down. My ankles, knees, hips and back hurt constantly...even when I was lying in bed doing nothing.<br />
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I had a treadmill slash clothes hanger in my basement when I decided to start all this. I tried to use this device of torture but I was bored out of my mind. I didn't even have the drive or desire to get on it at all. <br />
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When the treadmill didn't work, I started walking outside. I was seeing results and able to add some time and distance to my walks. Winter was making it difficult to stay on a schedule so I decided to buy an XBOX 360 with Kinnect and give Zumba a try. At first, I thought I'd lost my mind and wasted a huge amount of money since I could barely lift my arms above my head and throwing my body weight around the way I was caused so much pain and discomfort that it didn't seem worth the effort.<br />
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I continued none the less and eventually became pretty good at the routines. I'd skimmed off about 20 lbs which was making walking easier and more painless. I did Zumba on bad weather days and I walked outside on good weather days.<br />
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Eventually (a year or two later) I started cycling. My first bicycle (a gift from my son) was a fixed speed Next LaJolla which is a story unto itself I will share with you sometime. I was so large that my weight actually bent the peddles down and they had to be replaced. That is another embarrassing admission but this bike was a <em><span style="color: blue;">life changer</span></em>. It would lead to my life's passion which is cycling.<br />
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You don't see me ON the bike because overweight people are masters of hiding from the camera and I don't like body photos so I'm obviously hiding behind my car as much as possible. <em><span style="color: purple;">As you can see, even at that weight, I was a total goof ball.</span></em><br />
<br />
It wasn't long before I outgrew that bike. I wanted to do more than peddle around on a cruiser so I started riding my son's Mongoose Mountain Bike. It looked cool but it burned my knees. It was too big for me and it was a monster but I figured it could handle my weight...and it did but I was in fear that I would quit riding.<br />
<br />
I went on a few bike rides with my brother and his wife and eventually they let me ride her fitness level bike. I was in love and I knew I had to find a similar bike if I was going to continue to ride. <br />
<br />
When I bought that Trek FX 7.5 off my sister-in-law (bless her heart), I could not get enough of it. I bought a bike computer and started monitoring my speed and distance and was constantly challenging myself. I would set a goal, reach it and set another goal. I bought gear so I could ride in the cold and I bought accessories and gadgets to make my rides more fun and comfortable so I wouldn't lose interest.<br />
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This is a picture of the day I got the bike. It was October of 2011 and I was thrilled. This bike would eventually train me and take me across the state of IOWA in 2012 for my first RAGBRAI. I rode 471.1 miles in 7 days and it wasn't easy on that kind of bike so looking back, I feel an even greater sense of accomplishment.<br />
<br />
I actually didn't lose much weight that year but my body changed substantially. I was still learning how to tweak my diet to have enough fuel to perform without over fueling so the scale wasn't too kind to me but my clothes were definitely fitting different. <span style="color: magenta;"><em>I never lost focus of my goals and I never got discouraged no matter what the scale said.</em></span><br />
<br />
In June 2013, one month before my second RAGBRAI, I would meet and fall in love with my Specialized (MIDGE). I knew I wanted to buy a different bike and I was putting in the miles to justify the purchase but a good rode bike costs more than my car is worth. (actually that's not saying much, my car isn't worth much) It was still a MAJOR purchase and thanks to my cycling friend Mike, I committed to it.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me with Midge shortly after I bought her</td></tr>
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You can see in this picture taken in June 2013 that my body has changed a lot. I rode 104 miles the day this picture was taken which was my first "century". Every year on RAGBRAI they have one day where they add a thing called the KARRAS LOOP which makes the day 100+ miles. In 2013, I rode the Karras Loop for the first time on this bike and ended the day with 112.75 miles. It remains my longest distance for one day and I'm not going to kid you, it was a long day.<br />
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I joined Team Pez that year and rode a total of 444.12 miles in the 2013 RAGBRAI. I feel so blessed to have joined such an outstanding bunch of riders. I love them all.<br />
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In 6 days, I will leave for northern Iowa with Team Pez to do another RAGBRAI and I can hardly wait. At a projected 445 miles and being a northern route, it's the second flattest and third shortest route in RAGBRAI history which is a bit of a disappointment but I'm still excited to get out there and ride. <br />
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I encourage you to cross train but for me, cycling has become my passion. It took a long time but I found a physical activity that brings me to life. I run, do core exercises, kickboxing, swimming, mud runs, etc. but I simply don't enjoy them like I do cycling. <br />
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<span style="color: purple;"><em>I challenge you to go out there and try lots of different activities and work through the pain till you realize that it's not pain you're feeling, it's progress.</em></span> <br />
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I hope you find an activity that you love as much as I love cycling.<br />
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Love and Peace,<br />
<br />
Lizzie<br />
"It's not pain, it's progress"Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694092833250872012.post-9292963559922668422013-07-19T15:48:00.002-07:002018-10-17T22:37:34.808-07:00Pre-RAGBRAI Excitement/Anxiety<div align="center">
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Here I am, getting ready for the biggest bicycle ride in the country. People come from all over to ride their bikes across the great state of Iowa and I am one of them. RAGBRAI (an acronym for Register's Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa) is an event where approximately 20,000 insane (and fabulous) individuals ride their bikes in 100 degree heat for 400-500 miles over the course of 7 days. I can not think of any better way to spend your vacation time.<br />
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We will start in Council Bluffs, ride thru Harlan, Perry, down to Des Moines, Knoxville, Oskaloosa, Fairfield and finally end up in Fort Madison. As you can see by this map, it looks like they hired a drunken sailor to plot the course for this route.<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12.8px;">RAGBRAI 2013 Route Map</span><br />
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I only have to drive an hour to the start point since it's in Council Bluffs this year. I admire the individuals who fly in, ship their bikes or rent bikes when they are here. I feel very fortunate to live so close to such an amazing event and to have the health and lifestyle that affords me the opportunity to participate.<br />
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I've been anxious and excited for several months but for the last week, the only two words that could describe me are "hot mess". I have been busy making lists, getting everything ready and packing unpacking and repacking. I have been excited but being anxious and excited feel very similar so I don't really know which emotion is torturing me at any given moment. At the moment, I choose to call it excitement. I'm certain my family and friends are painfully sick of hearing about this ride. You would think nothing else existed.<br />
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I am riding with Team Pez for the first 4 days of the event this year. My Lincoln friend Pat has been a part of the team for years and has graciously invited us to ride with them. It will be my first time riding with this team so I will have an opportunity to make some new friends. My brother Keith and sister-in-law Teresa are coming too and since we would normally take an air-conditioned camper trailer with us and Team Pez camps in tents as they go, we will be facing some new challenges. One of the benefits of Team Pez is that they stay at "Host Homes" which is to say that someone graciously lets us set up tents in their yards, use their water, showers, and facilities. It's kind of a spoiled version of primitive camping.<br />
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After the first four days, Keith, Teresa and I will be leaving Team Pez and joining Team Hardy Farty which consists of us, by brother's two children (Kaley and Cody) their son-in-law (Patrick). In case you are wondering, the name "Hardy Farty" comes from my maiden name which is "Hardy" and when we were little, we were called, "Hardy Farty". My brother named the team, not me. (exaggerated eye roll) I've made up a team motto that hasn't caught on yet. I want to have Team Hardy Farty jersey's made which say Pull My Finger down both sides. I think it would be hilarious. <br />
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When we leave Team Pez, RAGBRAI will SAG (Support and Gear) Team Hardy Farty those last three days which means that;<br />
a) we are limited to how much gear we can take, our bag (including tent) can only weigh 50lbs<br />
b) we will be sharing bathroom, shower and water facilities with thousands of other riders<br />
c) we will be sleeping in a sea of sweaty stinky bikers at a tent city<br />
I have omitted items d) thru x) in hopes that you will continue reading. You are welcome.<br />
Lets just say that it will be a whole new experience and that is exactly what we are after.<br />
<br />
I'm sad to say that my sister-in law is leaving for a couple of days in the middle of this week to work but I must also admit that I'm excited that it will open an opportunity for it to be just me and my brother. I look forward to some one on one time with him. He is the best! She will be joining back up with us in Knoxville when we join Team Hardy Farty.<br />
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RAGBRAI is about 2 things for me.<br />
<em>Riding Bikes</em><br />
and<br />
<em>Food</em><br />
When you are burning several thousand calories on your bicycle, you can absolutely pig out during the week. <u><em>GUILT FREE</em></u>!!!<br />
<br />
Someone asked me, "How much weight did you lose when you rode your bike across Iowa?" I had to admit, I gained 3 pounds which in my book is a successful vacation!!!<br />
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There are some amazing things to look forward to during the ride and they mostly involved breakfast burrito's, turkey legs, pork chops on a stick, smoothies and rhubarb pies made by loving Iowa church women. God bless them all.<br />
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I can not even fathom the number of bottles of water, Gatorade and bananas that are being shipped into Iowa this week. I think it would blow your mind!<br />
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Tonight, I will finish packing. For anyone interested, here is my list and it all fit into a 50L Kelty Backpack that weighs less than 50lbs. <br />
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Tent<br />
Sleep Pad<br />
Sleep Bag<br />
Footprint<br />
Headlamp<br />
Camp Chair<br />
Inflatable Pillow<br />
Phone/Garmin/iPod Chargers<br />
3 Jerseys<br />
2 Biking Shorts<br />
2 Regular Shorts<br />
Riding Jacket<br />
Wool Socks<br />
Sleep Clothes<br />
Insect Repellent<br />
Sunscreen<br />
Ear Plugs<br />
Bandaids<br />
Toothbrush<br />
Toothpaste<br />
Floss<br />
Lip Protectant<br />
Aleve<br />
Eye Drops<br />
Brush/Comb<br />
Toilet Tissue<br />
Wet Wipes<br />
Razor Shampoo Body Wash<br />
Nail Clippers and Fingernail File<br />
<br />
And last but not least...<br />
Butt Butter for the Chaffing I hope to not get<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694092833250872012.post-18863038065717372412013-03-31T12:47:00.001-07:002013-03-31T12:50:18.381-07:00Whisper in the Wind<p>This is my church and God is with me. I know this because I hear Him whisper in the wind and he is saying, "I love you"</p>
<div class='separator' style='clear: both; text-align: center;'> <a href='http://lh6.ggpht.com/-TE2A-ezaH_A/UViS30mSAjI/AAAAAAAAAHs/Y9pm3rOOYt0/s1600/CAM00276.jpg' imageanchor='1' style='margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;'> <img border='0' src='http://lh6.ggpht.com/-TE2A-ezaH_A/UViS30mSAjI/AAAAAAAAAHs/Y9pm3rOOYt0/s640/CAM00276.jpg' /> </a> </div>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694092833250872012.post-57860510146140282082013-03-29T13:02:00.000-07:002013-03-29T13:04:28.986-07:00Are We Practicing the Virtues We Post?<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1364586980801_3342">
<span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1364586980801_3377" style="font-family: Calibri;"><span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1364586980801_3376" style="font-size: medium;">In these days of internet surfing and <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1364587245_0">social media</span>, there are fewer and fewer people having original thoughts. They endlessly repost from these dandy little apps and websites on their phones or computers and they know that what they are reposting is admirable and virtuous but <u>are we practicing the virtues we post?</u></span></span><br />
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<span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1364586980801_3379" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: medium;">It’s as if to say, “I would have said this if I’d have thought of it first.”</span><br />
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<span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1364586980801_3381" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: medium;">Are you the person you know yourself to be or are you under the illusion that you are the person saying the quotes? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: medium;"></span><br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1364586980801_3383">
<span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1364586980801_3385" style="font-family: Calibri;"><span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1364586980801_3384" style="font-size: medium;">I know that there are good, kind people of integrity out there but I don’t think they are reposting quotes with rainbow pictures in the background. I must say though that I enjoy the reposts of <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1364587245_1">Johnny Depp</span> quotes, not just for the sayings but also for the picture that accompanies them. (sideways winky face) </span></span><br />
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<span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1364586980801_3387" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: medium;">What an unlikely source for quotable comments, don’t you think?</span><br />
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<span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1364586980801_3389" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: medium;">Do you ever wonder why there are so many Johnny Depp quotes? Who would have known that he would have so many interesting things to say? The mere fact that he has all these original thoughts proves to me that he spends very little time reposting cute pictures of a kitten hanging from a branch saying “Hang in there baby”.</span><br />
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<span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1364586980801_3396" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: medium;">This is a man who spends time with his own thoughts; a man who, probably because of the trials and tribulations of his own life, has come to understand himself and the world around him. We should all hope to find ourselves with this kind of wisdom.</span><br />
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<span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1364586980801_3393" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: medium;">I challenge you to unplug from social media and the 700 friends you think you have. Social media is not giving you something to do it is taking you away from something to do. Look around you, you have your face glued to a computer or phone screen and even if there are people around you, you are disconnected from them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: medium;">Disconnect to reconnect.</span></div>
Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694092833250872012.post-21244388377589006902013-02-23T14:05:00.000-08:002018-10-17T22:28:52.583-07:00Bows and HeadbandsMy darling friend Emily gave birth to a beautiful daughter last fall and since I'm going to be the grandmother of a granddaughter in May, we decided we'd better put on our crafting hats and learn to make bows.<br />
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I don't know any bow making terms because I'm just winging it on the construction of these things but I can tell you how to make the "corkers" that are the curly cues in the center.<br />
<br />
Preheat oven to 275 degrees. Wrap any grosgrain ribbon around a 1/4" dowel (I use a 1/4" wide ribbon) and bake for 30 minutes. I secured the ends of the ribbon to the dowel with wooden clothes pins. I can show that in another blog if anyone requests it.<br />
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<u><em>My First Bow/Headband Creations</em></u></h2>
This is the first bow I made. It's not perfect for two reasons:<br />
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1. It's my first bow<br />
<br />
2. It's a "Husker" bow (Please forgive me, I live in Nebraska now)<br />
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This is the second bow I made. I actually couldn't wait to make this bow just because I love these colors together.</div>
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My first "official" order came in for one of these bows and I was ecstatic to fill it.... ok, ok, so it was Emily that wanted one but I was honored and excited so I just gave her this one and it was SOOOO worth it.<br />
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This is Avery in the bow...perfection!<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Avery's 3 month pictures...delicious!</span></div>
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Then, I decided to attach some silk daisies to a white headband because I saw a similar headband and just loved it.</div>
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Because I was afraid the stems would poke the baby in the head and be uncomfortable, I disassembled the flowers, cut back the stems and pokey things and reassembled them with fabric glue. Then I just tacked them to the headband using small invisible stitches with needle and thread.</div>
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This all white one was cute but since my favorite color is green, I decided to attach a slightly "softer" looking flower to a green headband and loved the result.</div>
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In fact, I was so pleased with the result that I made another one for little Avery...doesn't she look pleased too?</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">She's thinking, "Thanks for the headband Auntie Liz"</span></div>
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If you are going to make a handful of sweet headbands, you need a way to store them so, on the suggestion of Emily, I took an empty oats container and covered it in wrapping paper and voila! A headband holder!!!!</div>
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Hope you enjoyed!</div>
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Gotta go, we are going to spend the afternoon making headbands and bows!!!</div>
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Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694092833250872012.post-13751912034853543992013-02-23T12:02:00.001-08:002018-10-17T21:50:17.433-07:00An Aunt's Advice<div style="text-align: center;">
<em>Don't expect people or things to complete your life or you will always be left wanting.</em></div>
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<em>Instead, look to the power in you. </em></div>
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<em>Find joy in setting and achieving goals; living a dignified life of forgiveness and self-realization.</em></div>
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<em>By doing that, you will find infinite happiness.</em></div>
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<em> Love,</em></div>
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<em> Aunt Liz</em></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Kady and me at Arbor Lodge in Nebraska City</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(Dec 2010)</span></div>
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My niece Kady, in an attempt to pursue her dreams, has decided to move to Syracuse, New York to go to college. <br />
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The sensible part of me supports this move because I would never want to get in the way of her future but the selfish aunt in me wants her to live close so I can talk to her over a cup of coffee in a basement coffeehouse while an amateur guitarist sings John Denver cover songs.<br />
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Last week, I sent her a copy of one of my favorite books, "The Art of Racing in the Rain" by Garth Stein and highlighted some of my favorite Enzo quotes.<br />
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Along with the book, I sent her a card and what you see above is what I wrote in it.<br />
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I don't want to diminish the importance that I wrote it for Kady but I think it's good advice for anyone so I want to share it with you too.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694092833250872012.post-56084729325800197702013-02-17T11:16:00.001-08:002018-10-17T21:47:17.015-07:00Walking Dead PartyFor anyone who has not watched Walking Dead on AMC, you will not and can not imagine the excitement of the mid-season premier which aired on February 10, 2013. <br />
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My 26 year old daughter, after spending months trying to get me to watch it, all but gave up on me. I have a vivid imagination so when I watch something scary, I have nightmares and can't sleep. It takes months to get it out of my head and I have to watch Disney movies before I go to sleep to keep the nightmares away.<br />
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I was determined not to watch the series until one day, during a birthday party for a three year old, the grandfather of the birthday boy mentioned Walking Dead to another party goer and wouldn't stop talking about it. He talked about how amazing it was and that he just, "...can't understand why I care so much about this group of zombie killers."<br />
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Seriously?!?!?! This is the kind of guy who falls alseep in the chair after a big meal. In bed by 9, cool calm cowboy type and he watches Walking Dead... I thought, "Maybe I need to give this series a chance.<br />
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The first night I tried to watch the premier episode, I got through the first 20 minutes and was so scared that I had to shut it off. I proceded to have a nightmare that people have told me should be made into a movie. I won't go into it here but it would be a funny zombie movie.<br />
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I say "zombie" loosly because you will never hear the word "zombie" in the series. They are called walkers, geeks or biters, anything but zombies.<br />
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After several episodes, I became desensitized to the whole gorey zombie thing that was so frightening to me in the first place and got into the characters and the plot. After finishing the 1st and 2nd seasons on Netlix and finding out that we were in the middle of the mid-season break, I quickly watched the first half of the season thru internet streaming. I'd formed a crush on Daryl Dixon and could not wait to find out if he would survive a one on one battle with his evil brother Merle.<br />
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I asked my daughter and her boyfriend if they wanted to come to dinner and then watch the show. I figured I'd make meatloaf and put some fake teeth and eyes in it to make it fun. They asked if they could invite a friend so it was four for dinner. Four turned into eight and zombie meatloaf turned into a full on zombie meal.<br />
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First I made zombie appetizers...<br />
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Zombie Fingers</div>
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(Idea Borrowed from Pinterest)</div>
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These were simple: Using pretzel rods, green colored white chocolate discs and Almond Slivers. I dragged a toothpick thru the chocolate to make the knuckles. <br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Prosciutto Cheese Eyeballs</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(Idea Borrowed from Pinterest)</span></div>
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These Zombie Eyes are actually cheese balls wrapped in prociutto. I cut out a space for a sliver of Olive with pimento to slip into. I served this in a bed of Chipoltle Rojo Salsa to look like blood. This personally wasn't my favorite for taste but it did make a cool dish.<br />
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This was my favorite flavor. It was a green apple slice where I removed the seed star from the center, put a glob of strawberry glaze in the middle, dragged a toothpick to bring the glaze to the edges of the apple and then put a peeled slice of kiwi in the center. These were delicious! Great appetizer or dessert.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Deviled Egg Eyeballs</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">I used Garlic stuffed olives for the iris and pupil</span></div>
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Deviled Eggs are easy if you boil and peel them right. What I do is, put the eggs in shallow cold water, just enough to cover the eggs, and then turn on the heat. I bring the water to boil and let the eggs boil for 15 minutes then I turn off the heat and cover the pan. After 10 more minutes, I drain the water and put the eggs in a bowl of ice water. After a few minutes, I peel them and the shells come off perfectly every time. Here is my recipe for deviled eggs...<br />
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<li>12 Eggs</li>
<li>1/4 pkg of softened cream cheese</li>
<li>3 tbsp Mayo (not Miracle Whip)</li>
<li>3 tsp Mustard (Dijon is best)</li>
<li>3 tsp Worcestershire Sauce</li>
<li>Salt to taste</li>
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Then I served the meatloaf. We never named him because I don't believe you should name your food although I have unwillingly eaten a pet rabbit before.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Zombie Meatloaf</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(unappealing but incredibly delicious)</span></div>
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I don't know if you have a good meatloaf recipe but mine is the best I've ever used. You are welcome to use it. Let me know what you think.<br />
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2 lbs Lean Hamburger<br />
2 Eggs<br />
1 1/2 C Bread Crumbs<br />
3/4 C Ketchup<br />
1/4 C Warm Water<br />
1/4 C Dill Pickle Juice<br />
1 Pkg Onion Soup Mix<br />
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Mix thoroughly in a large bowl. I like to bake it in a sprayed/preheated cast iron skillet but you can use a loaf pan. Bake 45 minutes at 350 degrees. Add a thin film of Ketchup and bake another 15 minutes. Drain the grease, let sit 5 minutes and serve. You will not be disappointed.<br />
(Gumball Eyeballs and Teeth optional)<br />
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This zombie was served with good old fashioned Green Bean Casserole, Mashed Potatoes and Brown Gravy. It was described as homestyle comfort food by one of my guests and I would have to agree.<br />
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After dinner, we watched the last episode of the Walking Dead series and then watched the new mid season premier. We continued to eat the zombie fingers and eyeballs but I also served this yummy dessert.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red Velvet Eyeball Cupcakes</td></tr>
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These were simple and I cheated by using premade red velvet cupcakes. I offer no apology for this because the rest of this meal was an all day project. My daughter helped with this tasty treat. We simply drizzled strawberry glaze over the cupcakes. I took yellow gumballs and used black and red sharpies to make them into eyeballs. Delicious and easy.</div>
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On the healthier dessert side, I served this brain made out of a peeled and carved watermelon.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Watermelon Brains</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(Idea Borrowed from Pinterest)</span></div>
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Thanks AMC for your incredibly entertaining series. You make it easy to host a fun party at my home. Thanks to Whitney, Thomas and his friend Brian for attending. Thanks to Chris for inviting yourself enough times that I finally said yes. Thanks also to Travis, Jeff and Michelle for coming and sharing the evening with us. You all were a joy and I will never forget the enjoyment I felt by having you in my home.</div>
Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694092833250872012.post-89049132673436214042013-02-17T07:29:00.001-08:002018-10-17T21:31:57.050-07:00A Goal Should Scare You a Little and Excite You Alot<div id="yui_3_7_2_16_1361070470460_75">
In the fall of 2011, during a flat 20 mile bike ride that nearly killed me, my brother Keith and his wife Teresa asked me if I would drive their truck and camper while they rode their bikes across the state of Iowa during RAGBRAI (the Register's Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa). The thought of this did not appeal to me since I would end up using a week of vacation time just to drive a vehicle 100 miles each day, turn on crock pots and wait for bicycles to show up. </div>
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They really tried to sell the idea to me by describing all the fun places they go and how the host towns where the cyclists camp have concerts, food, shopping and all kinds of entertainment and fun. As we rode our bikes, they would tell stories of the rides and all the things they had seen and done and it did not make me want to drive their camper and SAG for them. (SAG stands for Supplies and Gear) Instead, it made me want to join them on the bikes but I knew there was no way I could ride almost 500 miles over rolling hills in 7 days.<br />
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My brother Keith and his wife Teresa on my first "big" ride</div>
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August 2011</div>
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At the time I started riding my bike, I was more than 100 lbs overweight. I was on beta blockers for high blood pressure and could not walk more than a couple of blocks without sweating and needing to rest. I had been riding a Mongoose mountain bike that felt like I was riding through sand and I had no idea what a "real" bike felt like. My knees would ache after the first couple of blocks, my muscles would cramp and I could hardly breathe. My face would get beet red and I know I looked like I was on the verge of a heart attack but I continued riding. I thought everyone with my level of experience was enduring this agony until one night when my sister-in-law asked me if I'd like to ride her Trek 7.5FX.<br />
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IT'S MINE!</div>
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First ride with my Trek on the Mopac Trail from Lincoln, NE to Eagle, NE.</div>
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October 2011</div>
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I was in love with that bike and within a few weeks, she sold it to me. It has changed me and quite possibly saved my life. The next time they asked me to drive their camper on RAGBRAI, I told them I'd rather join them on the bikes. They loved the idea.</div>
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I was scared and I still don't know what made me think this goal was something I would achieve. I heard once that courage is not the lack of fear but the ability to move forward in spite of it. So I mustered up some courage and started training. </div>
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Since we'd had a mild winter, I basically rode my bike whenever the weather would allow. At the time I'd decided to participate in this bike ride, the most I'd ridden on any day had been the 20 miles I talked about earlier and when I'd done that, my legs had cramped severely for several days after the ride and I'd nearly thrown up several times. To do this ride, I knew I'd have to ride 60-80 miles a day and it wouldn't be cool like it was during January in Nebraska, it was going to be hot since the actual ride was the last week in July. </div>
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In early July, while at work, I suddenly got the feeling of vertigo and every time I opened my eyes, I vomited violently. My mother had a stroke at 42, my brother, a heart attack at 40 and since I was 48 and already on blood pressure medications, I was certain that this was my stroke. I can remember feeling like my blood pressure was bottoming out and there is a dentist office in my building so I asked a co-worker to go get a blood pressure cup. They checked and it was 80/50 or some low number like that. That is about the last thing I remember before I got to Emergicare who sent me directly to the hospital emergency room.</div>
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The ER doctor ordered several tests including CT Scans and echo imaging. All the time I was there, I worried and told them was how afraid I was that I would not be able to ride RAGBRAI which was only 2 weeks away. At the end of it all, it was determined that I was too healthy for my blood pressure medicine. I'd been exercising, losing some weight and eating right and suddenly I was enjoying something that had always eluded me...I was healthy. </div>
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My Della used to tell me, "Right Actions, Right Results"</div>
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Within a few days, I felt stronger than I had all summer long. I was riding harder and better than ever. </div>
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For months, I'd been adding more hills and more miles to each ride until finally it was time to ride for real. I didn't feel 100% physically trained for the ride but I had faith that if I just started riding, my tenacity would get me through and it did. On July 22nd I got on my bike in Sioux Center, Iowa and for seven days I rode, ate and didn't do much else. After 471 miles, I arrived at the Mississippi River in Clinton, Iowa. </div>
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With tears in my eyes and the hugs of my family, I realized I had achieved my goal and so much more. I certainly didn't lose the 100 extra lbs that I have carried for so long but I've lost some of it and I feel certain that if I continue as I am, I will most certainly lose more. I no longer take any medications for heart disease, cholesterol or blood pressure. I spent years feeling like my body was a time bomb and I was waiting for it to go off while I sat in the recliner with a bag of chips. I don't lead that kind of life any more. I'm stronger, healthier and happier than I've been in decades.<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rGFja31Sx1U/USBU3W7GndI/AAAAAAAAADU/PYzuyb21Se4/s1600/SANY0365.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">D<span style="font-size: x-small;">ipping my tire in the Mississippi River in Clinton, IA</span></td></tr>
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RAGBRAI is right around the corner and I'm going to do it again. This time, no camper or air-conditioning; we are taking tents and backpacks and going to rough it like thousands of other do. Again, I am afraid and I lay awake at night, dreaming and wondering what the ride will be like. </div>
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My goal scares me a little and excites me alot.</div>
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Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694092833250872012.post-58114536095972912112012-12-04T19:11:00.000-08:002018-10-17T21:21:38.696-07:00Tacos, Beans & RiceI have been blessed by a constant parade of amazing human beings that have marched through my life. Whether they were one of the clowns or a member of the band, they have constantly entertained and taught me life's lessons.<br />
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Without a doubt, the Grand Marshall of the Lizzie Flower Parade would be Miss Della. Della is an angel who swooped into my life in 2006 at a time when I didn't even know who or what I was and taught me everything I never knew. <br />
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When I met Della, she was already hitting the twilight years of her life and I knew that I needed to enjoy her while I had her. She always had a sound bite for me no matter what the situation was. Her gift was that she kept life simple and it was in that simplicity that I finally found out that life isn't as complicated as I'd been making it.<br />
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Della was a tiny lady in her early 70's when I met her. Even though she was small and frail, she had a no bullshit attitude and was not afraid to tell you exactly what she was thinking. She smoked like a chimney which gave her a rough voice and even though she was small, she could produce substantial volume and when she spoke, people listened.<br />
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At the time I met her, I was in a futile relationship with a man that I liked sometimes, thought I might love, secretly hated and was pitifully co-dependent on. Taking things into my own hands, I quickly became engaged to him. <br />
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I would go to Della's and spend hours unloading all my confused and misdirected thoughts and feelings. One day after a long ranting that she patiently and lovingly sat through, she calmly put her cigarette to her mouth, took a long draw off of it, leaned in and as she exhaled the smoke she whispered to me, "Your picker's broke".<br />
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How could she say that? I was madly in love and engaged to the man of my dreams. Kinda.... not really.... Wait a minute...maybe she was right.<br />
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She went on to explain to me that I'd been settling for Cup o' Noodles my whole life and it was time I held out for the Tacos, Beans and Rice.<br />
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Confused? So was I...then she went on to say...<br />
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"When you're hungry, it's easy to grab some Cup o' Noodles. It takes care of your hunger quickly and you don't have to put a lot of effort into making it. The problem with Cup o' Noodles is that it doesn't satisfy you very well. After an extremely short amount of time, you're hungry again and reaching for another Cup o' Noodles. The cycle never ends and you will always be unsatisfied."<br />
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"If you prepare yourself for the full meal, the Tacos, Bean and Rice, you will be always be satisfied."<br />
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"Liz," she said to me, "hold out for the Tacos, Beans and Rice."<br />
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Could it really be that simple? <br />
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To the delight of my family, friends and of course, Della, I became UNengaged 5 long months after putting on that ring. It was a tumultuous 5 months and I was ready for it to end. Della asked me to take a year off from men. No dating, no flirting, no casual relationships and of course...no sex. As ridiculous as it sounded I took her advise. <br />
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The year came and went and I started dating again. Without me knowing it, during that year I had found something that I'd been neglecting for years...myself. I knew me for the first time in my life and I even liked me which I'm fairly certain was a feeling I had never enjoyed.<br />
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I started to understand that if I liked me, wouldn't I want me to be in a healthy loving relationship?<br />
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I know women who have the Tacos, Beans and Rice and don't even realize it. They're just lucky enough to have it. I know women who are settling for Cup o' Noodles and can't figure out why they are so unsatisfied. <br />
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I can't say that I figured out in that year what I want or need in a man but what I did figure out was what I didn't want.<br />
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I don't want to fix anyone. I'm not responsible for anyone's happiness or discontent. If you're broken, go fix yourself. <br />
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I don't want to spend time with someone who doesn't have integrity, honesty and kindness and if I'm going to expect those virtues in them then I'd damn well better practice them in my own life.<br />
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I lost my Della to lung cancer in June of 2011. Rather than be sad for my loss, I embrace myself with gratitude. Every day I'm grateful that she loved me enough to share her wisdom with me.<br />
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I hope you all have a Della in your life and for God's sake, hold out for the Taco, Beans and Rice.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694092833250872012.post-72828337999939145772012-12-01T13:55:00.000-08:002018-10-17T21:19:48.651-07:00Duck, Duck, Splat!Anyone who knows me, knows that I am happiest when I'm on my bike.<br />
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<em>Arriving at the finish line at RAGBRAI 2012</em></div>
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<em>(Register's Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa)</em></div>
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RAGBRAI was a 7 day, 471 mile ride across the great (and hilly) state of Iowa. I love to ride the challenging hills and miles but on most days, I'm looking for a relaxing meditative ride.<br />
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The other day I was on a short bike ride. I do a 15 mile loop around the south side of Lincoln that takes me through parks, by an outdoor mall, through residential backyards and over a major highway. Along part of the route, there is a shallow concrete water slough that cuts through some backyards. Unless it's raining, the slough only has a couple of inches of water in it. It's a peaceful, slow babbling waterway where moss lines nearly its entire expanse.<br />
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As I was riding along this meandering bike trail, I heard something over my right shoulder. When I looked, there was a beautiful, green necked mallard duck slowly gliding beside me, over the waters of the slough. He looked over at me, made eye contact and then went back to his business of flying. I slowed down to watch him, envying his freedom of flight. <br />
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Slowly and silently he glided beside me which added to the serene meditative state that I was in, then the duck decided it was time. He lowered his landing gear and I knew in an instant that he was not prepared for what was about to happen.<br />
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When the ducks feet hit the water, you could tell he was expecting to land in a amount sufficient enough to give him a soft and safe landing but because of the shallow condition of the slough, what happened instead was that his feet made contact with the mossy concrete causing him to flip beak over butt through the water.<br />
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I, of course, hit my brakes. I don't know what I thought my qualifications were to help. I don't know if there is a thing called duck CPR but I was prepared to try. When he finally stopped rolling through the mossy water, he shook his feathers and composed himself. Again our eyes met. Obviously embarrased, he turned his back to me, settled into the water, pretending that he was floating there the whole time.<br />
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I started riding my bike again but the farther I got, the more tickled I got. I kept picturing the ducks eyes as he landed and flipped. I had 6 more miles to ride before I was home and everyone I met must have thought I was bat shit crazy with that silly smile on my face.<br />
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It's true, I'm the type of person who laughs when someone runs into a glass patio door that they think is open. I watch Funniest Home Videos and can hardly stop laughing at some of them. There is one video of cat that was stuck to a clothes basket that caused me to laugh so hard it required a change of clothing. Yep, it was that funny and even thinking of it now makes me giggle.<br />
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So what's the moral of this story? There isn't one, if you're looking for a moral, you're reading the wrong blog. But if there was a moral to this story I suppose it would be this, "Sometimes you just have to shake off your feathers and say, 'I meant to do that'"<br />
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<br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694092833250872012.post-47328914036345475312012-11-21T18:57:00.001-08:002012-11-21T18:57:41.620-08:00Suck It Myans!Well, the countdown begins. On December 21, 2012, the Myan
calendar runs out and the end of the world predictions are supposed to come
true. Am I feeling helpless? No, not at all because I took matters into my own
hands.<br />
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I went for a walk the other day and was looking at the sun.
It seemed to be burning the same as it has every other day before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t help but think that if it was going
to explode a month from today that it would be pulsing or flaring or burning
blue or something odd like that.</div>
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Maybe the poles will shift, earthquakes, floods causing mass
extinction! Maybe it will just be a scathing rash and an itch you just can’t
quite scratch.</div>
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I find it hard to believe that the Myan’s had some insight
to the end and simply decided to stop making calendars. I can just imagine how
it went, “Dude, don’t waste your time making a calendar after December 21,
2012, no one is going to be here to use it, right?”</div>
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Today, I wanted to ensure the survival of the human race so
I went to the store and bought a 2013 calendar. So Suck It Myans, crisis
averted!</div>
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I believe it was one of my more brilliant moves.<br />
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It was much easier and less expensive than digging a shelter
in the back yard and stocking it with canned goods in an effort to survive this
apocalypse. First of all, I didn’t want to go to the expense of buying boxes
and boxes of canned meat that tastes like a salt block anyways. If I ate that
junk I’d be retaining fluid until 2045!<br />
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If there is some catastrophe that I’m just to stupid to plan
for, I can just imagine walking thru the pearly gates and having some cocky
Myan calendar maker standing there with attitude saying, “I told you so!”</div>
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So I am sending an invitation to all the Myans out there. If
you would like to exist after 12/21/12, please respond to this blog with your
address and I will gladly send you a 2013 calendar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s the least I can do to save the world.</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">See y’all in 2013!</span></div>
Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5694092833250872012.post-22650922721880241022012-11-17T17:37:00.000-08:002018-10-17T21:14:27.147-07:00Blissfully AverageAs I sat in my office today and a little phrase came to my
head that seemed quite appropriate for the moment. It was this, “Even Weeds are
Flowers”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought this was so witty
so I decided to Google it and see if anyone else had thought of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is a similar one by A.A Milne, the
author behind Winnie the Pooh. It goes, “Weeds are flowers too, once you get to
know them.” The stinger is that it wasn’t even Pooh who said this, it was
Eeyore, the sullen and depressed donkey which I think I resemble the least.<br />
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I want to make one thing clear, I am not quoting A.A. Milne
and I’m certainly not quoting Eeyore.</div>
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What brought me to even think of this phrase? Last night I
was perusing the channel guide and the science channel or another of those
“nerd” stations that I frequent so often had a show on about the mysteries of
sex appeal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since I’ve been going
through a “dry spell” in the dating market, I decided to see what it was all
about. </div>
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Who am I kidding, it’s not a dry spell, it’s a full on
drought, and I haven’t dated successfully in years!</div>
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The point of this scientific show was to determine what
caused certain individuals to be more “attractive” than others. My simple mind
says, “thin”. I always think it’s a fat vs. thin thing and this program proved
me relatively wrong. Seems it’s more of a good genes/fertility/survival of the
fittest kind of thing. Most of the experiments were on “twenty something” men
and women and so since I’m a “forty (almost fifty) something” I had to use some
reasoning to put it in perspective for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>First of all, I’m pretty certain men don’t look at me and
wonder what our children would look like. If they do, that man is a dumb ass
and should not be considered for the dating pool anyways. </div>
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I decided to watch the show and take from it what I could.
Bear with me during the next couple of paragraphs while I lay down the basics. </div>
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One of the experiments consisted of 10 men and 10 women in
unitard outfits that made them all look pretty much the same. (remember, these
are young people and I would NOT want to see middle-aged men and women in
unitards any more than you would) Then the person in charge of the experiment
put a nylon cap on each person and tucked their hair under, furthering the
inability to find a great difference between the subjects.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The interesting part of this experiment was
that each of the nylon caps had a number on the front of it from 1 – 10 and the
wearer was not aware of whether their number was a 1 or a 10 or anything in
between.</div>
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Then the subjects were told to pair up by holding out their
hand to another subject of the opposite sex and if the other subject accepted
your hand, you were a match. If they didn’t accept your hand, you had to find
someone else until all the couples were matched. The goal of the experiment is
to end up with the largest combined number. If the woman with the number 5
hooked up with the guy with the number 6, their combined score was 11. (duh)</div>
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Well, when they started the experiment, the obvious
happened. Most men flocked to the number 10 woman and stuck their hand out.
Most women flocked to the number 10 man and stuck their hand out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course, the number 10’s only accepted the
hand of the highest number he could see. He/she knew, “I have a high number on
my head”. </div>
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Then you see a number 3 hold her hand out to a 7 and he
doesn’t accept, you hear her say, “I must have a low number”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A number 3 walks up to her and holds his
hand out, she says out loud, “I can do better than that” and she walks over to
a 5, he won’t accept her hand… finally she walks up to a 2 and holds her hand
out, he accepts. They walk way, both of them visibly disappointed.</div>
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When they showed the pairings it was evident that this is
how society works too. The upper range of numbers chose each other, the middle
range together and the lower range together although the lower range didn’t
look quite as happy with the result as the upper range.</div>
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I started to wonder, what number am I? </div>
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I’d like to think I’m at least a mid range, right? A 6 or a
7 would be acceptable because I know good and well that I’m not an 8, 9 or 10.
I have one pair of slacks that make me think I’m an 8 but that thought is
removed as quickly as the slacks are. I love those slacks!</div>
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The fact is, all the 8, 9 and 10’s that actually want to be
paired up, are. If they are not paired up in the real world, they are usually
egotistical shit heads and I wouldn’t want one anyways. Then there are 8, 9 or
10’s that think they are 5’s and they are dead sexy!</div>
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I do not believe the 1, 2 or 3 category actually exists in
the outside world. They are either fatties that would require a wrecking ball
and a crane to remove them from their homes or they are mentally or physically
challenged and reside in institutions or jailhouses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>May the Universe bless them and keep them.</div>
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There have been short periods of time in my life where I
have fallen into the 1-3 category but that certainly does not MAKE me one.
Don’t EVER convince yourself that you are a 1-3 unless you are reading this
from behind bars or from your queen size bed that your massive body makes it
look like a twin size.</div>
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I also don’t actually think that 10’s exist because there is
no such thing as perfection and I am grateful for that! Even a 10 can act like
a 3 sometimes.</div>
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I have decided that I land somewhere in the 5 range.
“Blissfully Average”</div>
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Sometimes I’m a 5, sometimes I’m a 4 and when I put on those
sexy damn slacks, I’m a friggin’ 8 baby!</div>
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I hang around with some 9’s and I also hang around with some
3’s that the state has graciously released from their custody. I love them all
and they love me.</div>
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I used to think that the biggest responsibility to myself
was to make sure I didn’t reach for the 10’s and suffer bitter disappointment.
A perfect 10 is kind of like owning a VanGogh; it’s nice to look at but I don’t
want it hanging around my house all the time.</div>
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The truth is that my biggest responsibility is to accept
myself as I am. If I’m a 5, I’m going to be the best 5 I can be!</div>
Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0