Some random photos from the weekend. I am trying to present pictures in a different way.
These are all outdoor, nature photos. My favorite is the red tip cap on the stink dog toadstool. ~P.
Oct 9, 2012
A dog day weekend worth
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So I’m really enjoying my photography class. I have lined-up some models (a nude included) to work on my portrait photos. While I’m doing that, I’m also taking pictures with my digital camera. For shits and giggles ya know?
Wow, my SD card has 86 pictures on it! Time to load them and see what I have as blog material photos. The pictures are anything from me goofing off experimenting, pictures of the kids and some shots arranged for artistic appeal.
Ying is a great model. Such expression and depth in his photo shoot. 🙂
~P.
Oct 2, 2012
Grady’s Memorial Service
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A celebration of Barbara Grady’s life was held at Dover High School on Saturday, September 29th.
Laurie Heyer, Barb’s life friend of 32 years opened the service sharing how Barb touched her life in countless ways.
Dover High School principal, Bill Reinking, spoke next sharing his tale of starting at Dover in 1983 and Grady telling co-workers she knew him. He had been her teacher in Intermediate School. She remembered him, but he didn’t remember teaching her.
Kent James spoke next as Barb’s former student, coach and eventual co-worker and close friend. He shared the story of his senior trip at Dover to the Poconos with Grady, and metal shop teacher, Mr. Harmon, as chaperons. The students were asked to leave the resort early, and each walked by Grady with their head down as she gave them her “look” while shaking her head in disgust. In the 1990’s James and Grady went on many adventures together. Their trip to Costa Rica amazed the pair with active volcanoes, rain forests, natural spas, zip lines and monkeys swinging from trees. They spent some time on the beach where Sports Illustrated had done a swimsuit photo shoot. Barb was pestered to do her best swimsuit model pose and her response to their delight was “over my dead body.” The highlight of the beach for her was the Miller Light, “buy one-get on- free” cabana.
James is also holding a 5K walk/run in honor of Grady on September 22, 2013 with the proceeds going to the Ovarian Cancer fund. Anyone interested in participating can contact James at kjames@doversd.org.
Ashleigh Rhinert called Grady “a force of nature” who coached her when she was a student on the volleyball team. It was the passion Grady brought to volleyball that inspired Rhinert to become a physical education teacher and volleyball coach in Red Lion. Reinert also coaches the cheerleaders and finds that Grady continues to impact people. Only now it’s through Rhinert’s coaching, and believes Grady “lives on through our lives.”
Sonya Guyer spoke about Grady being a person who was there for each and every student. Guyer now, as a coach and teache,r strives to model her life with students after Grady’s ability to touch every person’s life and make them feel special.
The Dover High School Choir group “Renaissance” performed two songs dedicated to Grady, “In Remembrance” and “Benediction.”
Cassi Ney, an English teacher at Dover stated, “The simple and respectful acknowledgement from another human being goes a long way to the students in Barb’s life” and Ney wishes she had a laugh track of Grady she could play over and over when she needs a lift in life.
Bobbie Mitzel Strausbaugh came to Dover in 1986 and was the assistant coach to Grady. Strausbaugh learned quickly that Grady’s goal was to major on people-her to do list was to make you feel like #1-and make a difference in others lives while we still have time. Grady was also Strausbaugh’s Maid of Honor, after setting Strausbaugh up on a successful blind date. Grady wore a dress, heels, and hose, sporting a fancy hairdo, but insisted on being called the Best Woman.
Michael Grady, the younger brother of seven Grady siblings, was touched by the Tweet campaign that helped his sister get through her last days. The messages touched Grady and her entire family with overwhelming support during the difficult end time. A few miscellaneous facts that others may not have known about his sister: she started at Dover as the football coach and athletic trainer, she played guitar, climbed several mountains, including Mt Washington, backpacked through Tasmania, and one arm was shorter than the other. That shorter arm was the result of rough play with her brother Bill and her refusal to tell their parents, for fear of getting in trouble. Grady loved Tab and Fresca and when she learned they were going to discontinue it, she stacked cases in her office to the ceiling. Her favorite saying was if she won the lottery was she would start “Grady’s girls gym” and wouldn’t have to share it with boys.
A video highlighting Grady’s life from childhood through her amazing accomplishments as a teacher and coach was shown. The video brought many (including myself) to tears.
Grady’s little sister, Cori, (the spitting image of Barb) closed the memorial service. Cori thanked those attending and pointed out how one person can touch the lives of so many people. Barb taught at Dover High School for 32 years, reaching several generations in the Dover school district. “Barbra’s gift of always finding the good in people is a legacy that we all should carry on. She would want us all to move through our lives striving to be ‘the best’ we can be.”
A memorial fund is being established in Barbara Grady’s name to support the students and school she loved so much. Contributions can be made to:
Dover Dollar for Scholars
c/o York County Community Foundation
14 W Market Street York, PA 17401
or online at http://www.yccf.org. Please designate Grady Memorial Fund
Barbara Grady March 25, 1956 – September 2, 2012
Don’t cry because it is over. Smile because it happened. ~Dr. Seuss
Rest in Peace Ms. Grady. Teachers like you touch the life of every student lucky enough to cross your path.
Oct 1, 2012
Rock & Roll Tidbits
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Ma Ramey is the Mother of the Blues and one of the first black artists to be recorded in the 1920’s.
W.C. Handy is the Father of the Blues and a black trumpet player.
Bessie Smith is the African Empress of the Blues and populized the blues style.
Ethel Waters of Philadelphia, PA was the first successful black performer on Broadway.
The Hammond mouth organ-harmonica originated in Germany.
Blues music is generally measured in 12 bars.
A Creole is a child with a black mom and white dad.
Music styles that influenced rock and roll: Country, Blues, Ragtime, Gospel, Tin Pan Alley (NYC), Big Band Orchestra, African chanting,
Country music came from folk music and tells a story about one or more of these things: family/relationships, faith and appreciation of your country. Originated in the British Isles.
The Grand Ole Opry in Nashville was the center of country music recording.
Very popular country music recording family-The Carter’s
Father of Bluegrass music is Bill Monroe.
Instruments of original country musicians: dulicmer, autoharp, mandolin, fiddle, voice
Later Country music was influenced by African tribes (drums) and Spanish ballads (guitar)
The Blues originated in Delta Mississippi.
Elvis Presley is the Kinf of Rock and Roll. Born in Tupelo, Mississippi in 1935. His twin brother did not survive. Signed by Sun Records. Starred in 33 B movies, served in the US Army from 1958-1960. Married Priscillia in 1967 and had one daughter Lisa Marie. In the late 60’s he began abusing perscription drugs, got super fat and died of a heart attack.
Popular Do Wap groups were The Coasters, The Platters and The Drifters. Their lineage was the Barber Shop Quartet.
Leo Fender introduced the Stratocaster electric guitar in 1954.
The original steel guitar came from Hawaii.
Yodeling as a vocal device originated in country and western singing.
DJ Alan Freed was involved in the Payola scandal in 1962 for accepting money and gifts to play unknown artists records.
1960’s folk music themes were love, peace and racial equality.
Surfer music was the antithesis of folk music in the early 1960’s.
The Beach Boys landmark record was “Good Vibrations.”
Pat Boone was a teen angel who sang black song writers music.
Tired…will study more tomorrow! Zzzzzzzz ~P.
Sep 29, 2012
We’re Not Yams
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What’s the difference between a yam and a sweet potato?
It is not the flesh. Both vegetables have orange flesh inside. That is the tricky part, flesh is on the inside, not the outside.
A yam is grown only in South America and it needs 300 days to reach harvest.
Sweet potatoes can be grown anywhere and take 120 to reach harvest.
If you think you’re buying yams and they’re not from South America, someone is pulling the potato over your eyes.
The Frey family is set up along Route 74 today and tomorrow (9-5pm) to celebrate this year’s sweet potato harvest. Their potato tent is in the parking lot of The Brain Balance Center located at 2300 Carlisle Road, York, PA 17408.
The family is made up of the head potato, Larry, his wife Gwen, son Brett, daughter Lindsey and her husband, Jared.
The Frey family is from Wellsville, PA and has been in the sweet potato and sweet corn business for six years. They like to stick to sweet foods as a hobby
Larry said, “Sweet potatoes are easy to grow. They don’t need any chemicals or fertilizer. We get our plants shipped in from North Carolina where the University of NC developed and patented the Covington species. This breed grows to a nice size to use in making food. My wife Gwen makes the sweet potato soup with her own recipe.”
I tried Gwen’s soup and it is delicious. Also on the menu is fried sweets, baked sweets, sweet potato pie and raw potatoes to purchase in bulk.
Can’t make it to the sweet potato fest?
Give the Frey family a call at 717-432-2760
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- Sweet Potatoes on Rt 74
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- Decisions, decisions
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- How do you like your sweet potato?
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- Ruthann Sheffer and Makayla Cameron enjoy sweet potato fries
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- Brett Frey
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- Head Potato~ Larry Frey
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- Fall decorations
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- Fresher than fresh
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- Barb Tressier
Sep 26, 2012
The rambling professor
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The professor has to be juiced or cursed with a bad case of ADHD.
His lips move so quickly-words gush and blur-the deaf would be defenseless to read.
“Has anyone read —insert names no one recognizes.”
The look of despair when no hands are raised.
Name dropping doesn’t impress…just alienates.
Sep 25, 2012
No need for perfect
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Her ear wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t matter. It seemed to me, her beauty came from within. Beauty in the twinkle of her eye, beauty in her giggle, beauty in the tassels of her hair. Very little hair indeed.
Even her tearful cries were beautiful-like that of a lamb separated from its mother. And once quieted, rocked to sleep-resting as a content angel-my most beautiful creation.
~~~To my beautiful daughter Tesla. We had three minutes to write about what we believe to be “the most beautiful thing.”
~P.
Sep 17, 2012
O’Connor on James Joyce~Araby
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O’Connor describes Joyce’s short story writing style as pictorial comparing his stories to “a beautifully illustrated book.” I agree with O’Connor’s description of Joyce’s style because Araby paints a picture in the reader’s mind without the need of illustration.
Araby is a short story compared to others we have read for this class, but it does not leave one questioning the characters or setting. The first paragraph opens with the description of the street the characters live on. It is a dead-end street but Joyce makes the street much more with his description, “…being blind, was a quiet street except at the hour when the Christian Brothers’ School set the boys free.” His writing brings the houses to life giving them abilities not usually attributed to inanimate objects. The houses “…gazed at one another with brown imperturbable faces” painting a somber picture of brownstones lining a quiet street.
O’Connor also comments that Joyce creates a “hypnotic effect” in his writing. I also found such an effect in Araby. “The light from the lamp opposite our door caught the white curve of her neck, lit up her hair that rested there and falling, lit up the hand upon the railing.” This sentence has a rhythm to it that is distinguishable and could be lyrics to a song. He repeats words or uses a different form of a word such as light and lit to create a pattern unique to his style of work.
Joyce also writes multiple adjectives without the use of punctuation. This was noticeable to me prior to reading O’Connor’s review of Joyce’s writing style. I particularly appreciated his description of the gardens and horse stables. A garden and horse stable have little in common but one word-dark-pulls them together in the sentence. “…the dark dripping gardens…to the dark odorous stables…” Joyce uses no punctuation and repeats words describing two unlike places. And it works beautifully.
Joyce’s use of simile also presents an image a reader “can accept or reject but can’t modify to suit one’s own mood or environment” as O’Connor points out. Two sentences that did indeed illustrate the boy’s embarrassment with having a crush on the neighbor can be visualized in “…yet her name was like a summons to all my foolish blood” and carries an impact that a simple statement such as, “her name makes me blush” cannot do. The same is true with “But my body was like a harp and her words and gestures were like fingers running upon the wires.” The mental image these sentences create give understanding to his deep feelings for this young lady.
It is this unique, hypnotic effect throughout Araby that confirms O’Connor’s pictorial description of Joyce’s style of writing. The sentence rhythm, form and word choices create a beautiful picture in the mind of a reader just as Joyce had intended.
Sep 17, 2012
Ying woke
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Ying woke early Saturday morning, stretching his long furry legs on the luxurious king size memory foam mattress fitted with six hundred thread count Egyptian cotton sheets, a silky comforter embellished with beautiful geometric shapes in various sizes, sixteen pillows matching the comforter’s pattern and colors all situated on an expensive handmade dark mahogany four poster bed passed down through eight generations of his owner’s family-German in descent-and shoved his cold nose into her hand, eager to get their morning routine started.
“It’s Saturday mutt! Get away!” she yelled.
(Assignment was to write one sentence of at least 75 words followed by a short sentence)
Sep 15, 2012
Deer Here
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York County is country. Farms and fields, acre after acre. Woods and animals, mile after mile…
Practice went well and the whole team was pumped for the game the following afternoon. I loaded up the van with our gear: bats, balls, gloves, helmets. Half the team depended on me for a ride to the games. Anything smaller than a van wasn’t going to get us to the ball field.
It was getting dark after dropping off my team mates. I was exhausted after a long day of classes, followed by practice, followed by delivering my girls to their homes. Calculus was on my brain, calculating how long it would take to do my homework after a hot, relaxing shower. The showering thoughts made me sigh.
He came out of nowhere. My mind was still lingering on the shower when the white of his chest caught my eye, just not quickly enough. I slammed on the brakes. They squealed loud, the rear of the van began to fish-tail. The impact slowed my momentum but sped up my heart rate.
I put the van in park to see how much damage he did. The front passenger side was crushed. Headlight obliterated, turn signal broken and hanging from various wires. Damn it! I walked around to the side and realized the door was also crushed. Fucking deer. Must have swung around to do double damage, just my luck.
It was completely dark now and I only had one headlight. I glanced over at the fucking buck, my guts twisting when I realized he wasn’t dead. All that damage to my van and the son of a bitch is still kicking two of his four legs. One was missing completely and the other bent at an unnatural angle. This didn’t stop him from attempting to get up. His struggling, snorting and blood coming from various injuries should have evoked sympathy for the white-tail. It didn’t.
I walked to the back of my van and opened one of the double doors. I pulled out the team’s equipment bag and dragged it around to the front. Two solid swings and his escape attempts ceased.
“You’re outta here!” I yelled, to no one in particular.
girlboxer1970 