Not a food blog

I talked to my mom a couple of days ago and she said she really enjoys reading my blog but that it doesn’t always have to be about food. “You used to write about other things, too,” she said. “Like… Two Rivers.” So this is not a post about food (but doesn’t everything always go back to food?*), it’s a post about pictures.

I have always had a thing for pictures. Growing up my dad turned all of his kodachrome film into slides (thousands and thousands of slides) and one of my favorite things was our family slide shows. We would gather in the living room for the event. I remember the excitement I felt as my dad clicked the tripod screen into place. I remember the whir of the projector as it warmed up and the dust particles that danced in the lightbeam. My dad would sit on a chair next to the projector, beer in hand, and click the slide tray into place. My mom, sister and I gathered on the couch with popcorn. There was usually a theme: “Moscow, 1977,” “sunsets through the years,” “birthday parties,” “camping trips,” “California,” or “road trips.” I’m sure I always begged for one more tray of slides when the screen went blank.

At some point I got my first camera and my parents happily supported my new hobby, even as I had a habit of overshooting the same subject. I remember developing an entire roll of film of the Statue of Liberty, looking approximately the size of a flea in the photos, that I shot from the deck of the Staten Island Ferry. There was also the time that my dad paid upwards of $40 a roll to develop my pictures for me when we were in Slovenia (thank goodness I now use digital.) I still have a tendancy to fixate on certain subjects with my camera, like the time I took 300-400 photos just of the golden retriever at a family reunion in Montana.

But I love photography, as amateur as I may be. I love taking pictures of floors and what’s under my feet.

 

I love taking pictures of my feet.

 

I love taking pictures of other people’s pictures.

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And recipes.

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I love taking pictures while traveling.

And closer to home.

Apparently I love taking photos of blue stools.

And I love taking pictures of food (*see- it all comes back to food).

This past weekend I had the opportunity to attend a food photography workshop at Drunk Lunch led by freelance photographer Paulius Musteikis known around Madison for his beautiful photographs often gracing the covers of Isthmus and Madison Magazine. Paulius, a self-taught photographer, offered lots of practical advice, like read your camera manual- something I have not yet done, and more artistic advice- where is the light coming from? What shapes do you see? What is the story your photo is telling?

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I loved his presentation and then enjoyed playing around taking lots of pictures of these plants.

And what I learned is, I have a lot to learn. But isn’t that true for most things? I feel lucky that my family instilled the love of pictures in me. Just like writing, it makes you look at the world differently. We all have a story to tell.

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Fun with Pets : Dixieland Jubilee edition

(Guest post by Dan Walkner)

Ah, pets.  Are they truly everywhere? What about the southern United States? Are Southern pets as cute as, say, pets of the Northwest or Midwest? I put on my Sherlock Holmes hat and walking shoes and walked to our rented car and drove down south to answer these ever pertinent and burning queries.  Join the Jubilee!

Our journey took us to Asheville, NC.  While there, we were looking for the art district that we would ultimately find a week later, which upon finding the brewery that we HAD TO GO TO OMG, IT’S SOOOOO AWESOME wouldn’t serve me, we got lost(ish). As we puzzledly scratched our respective noodles and gazed about, I saw a poodle holding a cat as though it were a baby doll.  For real.  Erica slammed on the brakes and reversed the half block to the scene of the whatever-the-opposite-of-crime-is place, and we got out and captured some of the magic.  Dig:

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That’s love.  These pets show what teamwork is all about.  What sport you ask? Hmm, I’ll have to think about that.  While I do, here’s another gem of these pet diversity acceptors:

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Yeah it’s a little fuzzy, but maybe, just maybe, tears of joys fell on the camera-look-at-stuff-glass-part-thingy of the camera.  Sorry for the science jargon.  Moving on.

We arrived at our cabin and immediately found a crafty sasquatch in the hot tub! Scary, right?!?

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He quickly calmed our nerves by creating a mini snowman mascot for us. Crisis averted.

Our cabin was on a darling little farm.  There seemed to be a lot of dogs around.  How did I know you ask? Well, barking was happening a lot.  We decided to investigate further. Here are the findings:

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AHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!! Intruder alert! Oh wait, it’s just a little yellow dog who ran up the hill, took a leak on a snowy shrub, licked my face, accepted some scratches, and ran away. Ok, back to the pet search:

You know what? All this pet stuff made me want to go get some vintage western wear. (This is a common symptom of pet searching, or, well, me leaving the house.)  Tum-te-tum, Dum-de-dum…

BOOSH! This just happened:

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I forget this little cuteness nuke’s name, but he tricked me into buying a $30 shirt.

Then he wanted to do a Sam Kinison impression, so I figured what the hay?  Let her rip, buddy:

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Impressive.

Farms need pets, too.  Some to work, some for morale building, and some for both. Our tour of the farm led to all of the above of these aforementioned and viable pet vocations.

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What dear reader? Those are only stupid sheep a.k.a. non-pets? Look again my skeptical friend. Eureka! You see it now? The white wookie-esque friend?  That is one hard-charging pooch!  Sleeps outside for the love of her sheep homies. Dedication makes a farm go.

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You’re probably wondering if that dog has a sibling that also has a best cat friend that hangs around, aren’t you? You were? I know. Yup, it’s kind of a gift I have. As promised:

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I know, I’m way ahead of you. How much does the cat weigh? This many:

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See Big Whitey’s paw? Yeah, the one that trudges around in, well, grody farm dirt all day? He played a little joke on me right after this photo and stuck his paw in my mouth! Heyyyy! Here’s a shot of me not barfing but spitting a lot as he retracts his soil smasher:

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Silly new friend, oh how could I stay mad at you? Answer? Can’t!

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Donkey!

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All this pet stuff made me thirsty and wondery. I put on my Minocqua, WI thinking cloak and got some delicious beers at Wicked Weed Brewing.Image

Then I started thinking about my own pets. They can be weird at times. Are other people’s cats as weird as mine? Do they eat tape, too? Lick the sides of LP records? Get their head’s stuck in kitchen chairs? Climb cacti? Then P. McMahon’s time machine from 1997 pulled up.

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What a whirlwind tour of a single southern city that I’ll be basing all of my fact-finding on! What did we learn? Lots, duh! First, southern pets may bark a little slower and more confusedly, but they still get their point across. Don’t forget to look closely: southern pets are masters of disguise! Keep your mouth closed when tormenting an enormous dog’s best feline friend or be prepared to test the pH of the farmstead soil. Of course, when thrift shopping, fall for the canine wiles and just buy the damn shirt! It’s green and it’s awesome. Finally, no matter what color a pet is, or what part of the world it comes from, he, she, or neuter just wants to spread the love and maybe get a little scratch on the ol’ pet tums. These are jubilous pet times we live in: embrace them or eat dirt.