Random Object Photographs

While picking up some sticks and debris in the back yard, I noticed this out of the corner of my eye......

Turns out it was just an attachment point for a limb that had fallen off at some point. A little strange though, even for an old Crime Scene guy.


That photograph could have a disturbing effect on someone who's not quite right in the head.
 
Time's almost up...

How many people know what this is?

I'll bet John (PALADIN85020) knows.

Click to enlarge.

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Oregon's Biggest Mountain

I've stated before that I don't like Portland, no, not one little bit.

But there are some cool things just a short drive from there.

Mt. Hood (11,240 ft.) is one of my favorite places. Yesterday I spent the morning at the Timberline Lodge area, hiking around and taking photos. I rode "The Magic Mile", which is a ski lift open to anyone who wants to ride it, and takes you up to 7000 feet. And yes, there were people up there skiing! Some may remember Timberline Lodge from the movie The Shining.

The first photo is the view from the north, after I left the area and continued my mini road trip. The mountain in the background of the ski lift shot is Mt. Jefferson.
 

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A bad photograph...

Yes, I know this isn't a good photo. Shot through two layers of not-so-clean glass.

We've had some strong thunderstorms here all week. They come in like clockwork every evening.

These three little wrens took shelter in my back porch during last night's storms. They sleep with their faces turned into the corner. You see the one on the left, and two huddled together on the right.

What's odd is this. The one on the left (guessing it's the same wren) usually shows up rain or shine to sleep in the left corner. I wonder how the other two knew to come to the porch? Did they follow the one? Was he like, "Hey, c'mon...I know a good place to sleep where we'll be safe and dry."??

I have had two on occasion, but never three. It's just interesting to me, the ways of nature.

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How many people know what this is?

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I actually have one. The significant other person uses it as a kitchen timer.

Well, if it's as big as this one, she shouldn't have a problem seeing and hearing it. And it's nice that you've repurposed it.

Many, many, years ago.... I used used one of these in the dark room for a Police Photography class.

I've had this one so long, I'd actually forgotten I had it.

I shoulda had a contest. You guys coulda won a prize or something.
 
300 ft from my house.
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That's a nice pastoral scene. Bucolic. Cows usually look so peaceful and content. That's a nice old tree, too. Bet it's seen a lot of history. That's Forestville Road isn't it? At Mackinaw, just a little ways down from the fire station? Used to be a little town called Forestville a long time ago. Had a relative lived there way back then. Used to be lots more woods and pasture out that way. Sad that it's slowly being gobbled up by tract housing and lookalike McMansions. Suburbia. The price of progress, I guess.
 
My grandfather made this. Dad's father. I never met him. He died the year before I was born. I've only seen one photograph of him. He was short in stature (it runs in the family) and wore glasses in thick frames, but remembering stories about him told by my dad and my uncles, he was one of those wiry little buzzsaw guys that bigger guys sometimes make the mistake of messing with. He was treasurer of the Baptist church, and after services, he and the family would walk home with grandfather carrying a leather satchel with the day's offerings inside. Dad said he carried a big pearl handled Smith & Wesson that "opened at the top", but didn't remember the caliber. This would have been in the thirties and early forties. Apparently no one at the church cared that grandfather was carrying during preaching. I believe he and grandmother did a lot of local missionary work for the church, because one of the stained glass windows in the sanctuary is dedicated to them with a panel in the glass inscribed with their names.

Anyway, he made this thing with the chickens and corn. I think things like this have a name, but I can't remember what it is. I'm not sure whether or not to call it folk art or what. To me, it has a bit of a Rube Goldberg-ish flavor to it. It's all wood (and corn). No screws or little nails.

You hold the paddle part parallel to the ground and move it around in a circle. This makes the wooden weight below it twirl round and round on the string. The string's connected to the chickens and the swinging weight makes them peck at the kernels of corn. And they all do it in separate movements. Their heads go up and down at different times. It's pretty clever, I think. I know I couldn't make something like that. The chickens' beaks make a clickety sound when they hit the wood. It's funny.

It's remained in remarkably good condition. Dad may have replaced the string...I'm not sure.

Dad loved this thing, though. I do believe it was the only thing he had left that had belonged to his father. On Sundays, after dinner, he'd sit in front of the fireplace and twirl it a bit, then just sit and sort of hold it a while before replacing it on a brass hook on the mantle.

So I thought I'd photograph it. You can click on it and enlarge it if you wish.

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I also treasure some mementos from our family's past. My paternal grandfather passed from kidney failure at age 60. At the time, I was just 3, with my 4th birthday about a month away.

Sadly, my only clear memory of my grandfather was being next to him while he was on his deathbed, and he told me he loved me. I told him I loved him, too. It was the last time I ever saw him, but like you, I've heard many family stories about him.

I took this picture of some of his possessions. The wallet holds a dollar bill (silver certificate) and a 1942 pocket calendar.

His hat now hangs on the wall of my den at home. The carpenter's rule is a remnant from when he built two rental homes in Phoenix, which still stand today. His revolver and holster date from the time he was a dry goods store owner in Kentucky, and he used them in protecting the day's proceeds when he walked them to the nearby bank. The razor was his. I've never seen a picture of him when he wasn't clean-shaven.

When I touch any of these things, I feel that I have also touched him, and I regret that we couldn't have spent more time together. I would have loved it if we could have.

John

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Yep. Darkroom timer. My dad and I had one - I wonder if it's still in a box in the garage somewhere...

John

You should look. Tell you what. Even though I have no use for mine now, with its stark/vivid black and white color scheme and the little array of knobs, outlets, and switches, it's an excellent example of American mechanical stuff. It just looks functional...you know? And it makes a striking appearance just sitting on a table. I had some company today and they're looking at it like "The hell is that?" And "Where'd you get it?"

It would look right at home in the 1927 silent film, Metropolis, one of the greatest science fiction films of all time.

iu


iu
 

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