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Old Guy Photography


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The Old Guy … Yesterday … The Last Photograph Of The Day #6 ..

JEMDSC_3925-1Last Photograph Of The Day …

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Spring Blue Jay

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Dressing For Spring

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Freezer Poor Easter Chocolate Bunny

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Coffee In Jamestown

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Dresser Top

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The Hairbrush … Just Out Of Reach …

The Suggestion Box

The Suggestion Box

Pork Stew Week

Pork Stew Week

Alternate Lodging ...

Alternate Lodging …

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Portrait Of The Old Guy

Last Photograph Of The Day … 

Next Week Or So … I Just Don’t Know …

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The Old Guy … Miscellaneous Kitchen Semi-Masterpieces …

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Bacon Wrapped Pork Tenderloin With Brussels Sprouts

I cook a lot; much more than one would suppose of a widower. It’s not that I don’t like eating out. But, eating out requires a commitment of  time,  effort, and the acknowledgement that I don’t mind sitting alone in an eatery where I stand out much like the odd white cotton sox in a drawer full of black silk neatly folded pairs.

Ninety-nine point nine percent of the time, I eat my noon and evening meal at home with a small black and tan dog named Gretchen. She is good company, seldom begs for bites, much, and for the most part is non-judgmental. Thankfully, if Gretchen doesn’t like something, say Chili Week or Oatmeal, she leaves it lay and just walks away without condemning gesture or critical comment.

I will go out for breakfast. At one diner, I sit with my brother and sister-in-law and a collection of colorful locals … at the other diner, I sit at the “Old Guys” common table of ex-politicians, citizens-of-note, Ministers, and assorted ne’er-do-wells … it’s become a Wednesday morning tradition …

Pasta Week ...

Pasta Week …

I will go out for breakfast, but I cannot remember the last time I went out for an evening meal. Right now, there is no urge or necessity to venture out into the night except to take random long exposure photographs weather permitting. Only lately has the weather become accommodating.

One influence complicating the thought process of where and when is the simple fact that in a location as small as I live in … there are few places, less than the fingers on one hand, to eat at night that are not fast-food franchises. From here civilization, with a wealth of dining opportunities, is two hours away in any direction.

Trial and error, physical demands, economics, and past influences have helped me get down to the basics when considering a limited but diverse menu for an old widow such as I am. All of which means, I do not, and cannot, stand over a hot stove at noontime or dinner time. I will work the stove when cooking dinner pork tenderloin wrapped in bacon cooked slowly under glass. Or … those wonderful deep fried hand breaded pork steaks I love so much. As with all exceptions, I cook enough for a good meal and the next days lunch and or dinner.  The same principle applies to white beans, white bean soup,

cabbage and cabbage soup.

One pot meals are the way to go …

Deep Fried Pork Steak With Green Beans

Deep Fried Pork Steak With Green Beans

So … I like one pot meals, or masterpieces, often poured over rice, noodles or some other type of pasta. A good size pot of white beans slow cooked with bacon strips and sausage grease serves as another option that can be for three or more days of meals; more if frozen in plastic containers Add ketchup and pieces of red onion and whew …

I also have perfected my Pork Stew in dark gravy, potatoes, peas, carrots and pearl onions. Pork Stew Week has always been a hit along with corkscrew pasta covered with tomato-meat sauce with fresh bell pepper, red onion and Mrs.Dash’s salt-free cut highway weed mixture (herb and garlic). Chili Week has been less than popular and seldom made anymore.

All of my recipes help overcome my Oatmeal breakfast with pork sausage paddy that I have when not visiting one of the diners.

 

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Next Week … I just don’t know …

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The Old Guy … I re-wrote My Last Will And Testament Today …

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The Old Guy … Walking All Over And Around Seventy Years Old …

I re-wrote my Last Will And Testament today. The last one had become out-of-date due to life changes. Sorry about that Iowa Department of Transportation, you’re out, but really you weren’t going to get anything unless all my last wishes in the previous version were not followed to the letter, punctuation included.

Anyway, this latest and greatest new document has been an internal struggle to finish since it makes so much, so many things … cut and dried final. It signifies that of my life, the final “i” has been dotted; the final “t” crossed. Yes, yes indeed … finality in its purest form visits us all.

I shall not go into specifics about the contents …

Writing the new last will makes me think of all that I have said, wanted to say, couldn’t say, all I have done … what few things I have accomplished; the tangible and non-intangible laid bare. In this Old Guy’s lifetime, I have brought joy, comfort, want and deep disappointment to those around me. There has been laughter and tears shared, nights of anticipation and anguish … with occasions of sullen inner reflection. I have dealt with the bold technicolor realization that I am a simple man of exceptionally simple pleasures void of noble heroics or measurable success.

In the fall of my years I find it is possible to reach inwardly and touch my own heart … discovering what is actually there, what of want, and what has been ruined, misplaced, squandered and or missing. There are things, including personages, that have been forgotten and still things that haunt the likes of me late at night when I am enveloped by the darkness that lives deep within all of us.

Regrets are useless …

Indeed, regrets are useless and I will not spend time on speculations about a multitude of “what if’s”. Such exercises are useless and I wish this day to be tinted kinder … and softer. To this day, I am still married in spirit to my Sweetheart and wear the gold wedding ban she gave me so many, many years ago. Quiet days like this make me miss her so much more. I do love her so.

I am tired of late and my eyes and fleeting desires betray me. A weakness has wore me down of late. But I am at peace with myself and this heathen world … I well know no ones tomorrows are assured. Each day is a gift from God. And, I am thankful for that. These chest pains that visit on silent soft feet, and haunt each breath of mine will be addressed soon. I make no predictions or assumptions of the outcome though I do have a vested interest.

So with my Last Will and Testament in place … I can have a modest sense of relief and an interest in a possible tomorrow, a little lunch at the diner or possibly write a few words. So be it.

p.s. There is no money hidden in my mattress, upstairs or in the basement.

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Next Week … I just don’t know …

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For More Additional Photographs Click On This Flicker Link …


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The Old Guy … Gretchen’s Brush …

`Late At Night When Even The Mice Aren’t Stirring …

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Gretchen Spies Her Brush …

 

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It Looks Just Out Of Reach …

 

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Yep … Just Out Of Reach … A Little Help Here …

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Next Week … Maybe something Interesting … I just don’t know …

For Additional Photographs Click on This 500 px Link …

For More Additional Photographs Click On This Flicker Link …

 

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