Just a few random thoughts as I get stuff ready for the upcoming Typewriter Harvest type-in in Phoenix tomorrow.
My dog Koa and I spend practically every day together. We play together, nap together, clean the house together, you name it. I’ve taken about a zillion great pictures of him, and quite a few of myself, but trying to get us together in the same shot is like trying to get the Loch Ness Monster and Sasquatch in frame while being attacked by a swarm of bees. What you see above is the BEST result I’ve gotten out of like 1,000 tries. I look like a frantic escaped mental patient, and Koa looks like a Muppet in the middle of a transdimensional warp experiment. I had to hold a little squeaky rubber duckie next to the camera to get him to look anywhere near it, and he kept backing away from every available light source, leaving me crouching on the floor in shadow trying to frantically squeak the duck and mash the shutter single-handedly without dropping the camera. Perhaps I can enlist the services of a police sketch artist to do our family portrait, cobbled together from eyewitness accounts of the two of us hanging out together looking cute, which I assure you we do. ALL. THE. TIME. Really.