10 November
Amateur
Photography magazine is in its 130th year. In celebration they
have teamed up with Leica and are giving one away in a prize draw. The idea is
that you collect six token from six different editions, stick them on a form found
in the first couple of issues after the start and send the six and completed
form in for the draw. For the chance of a £6K+ Leica and lens, I’m having a go.
My form would have been sent off by now but I forgot about the token 4, so now
I have to wait until Saturday when #7. Ah well … … …
Currently I am selling a lot of my Sony gear on Ebay (http://www.ebay.co.uk/itm/141463846732?ssPageName=STRK:MESELX:IT&_trksid=p3984.m1555.l2649
and follow link to other items). Anyway, Jan asked me where her box of cards is
so I went looking for it. I didn’t find them but I did find another empty Sony
Lens box … BUT I can’t find the lens that goes with it. I just can’t remember
when I last saw it though. It’s strange cos it was a pricey lens to buy, even
second hand. A search will be made later … again … … …
It’s not the only I can’t find though, (I’ve mentioned
stuff going absent before haven’t I?) Jan’s first Sony was an Alpha 330, the
Jessops only model. We want to sell that one two. I have the camera body and
lens, the instruction book and few other bits n bobs but I can’t find the
battery charger or software. Something that I have found though is the Sony flash
gun that I have never used. One day we will get to be organised I’m sure.
NANO isn’t going as well as I had hopped with only
14,000 words done. Today should see the total reach 16,670. I can’t even blame
it on Kile being here seeing as I got 3,000 words done yesterday. Hopefully I
shall get ahead again later today when I’ve caught up with everything else.
Photo time them …
A tawny owl at Slimbridge.
Another funny from the Sage …
An elderly man
lay dying in his bed. While suffering the agonies of
impending death, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favourite
biscuits wafting up the stairs. He gathered his remaining strength, and
lifted himself from the bed.
Leaning on the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and
with even greater effort, gripping the railing with both hands, he
crawled downstairs. With laboured breath, he leaned against the
door-frame, gazing into the kitchen.
Were it not for death's agony, he would have thought himself already
in heaven, for there, spread out upon waxed paper on the kitchen
table were literally hundreds of his favourite biscuits.
Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of love from his devoted
Aussie wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he left this world a
happy man?
Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself towards the table,
landing on his knees in crumpled posture. His aged and withered hand
trembled towards a biscuit at the edge of the table, when it was
suddenly smacked by his wife with a spatula.............
"Bugga off" she said, "they're for the funeral."
impending death, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favourite
biscuits wafting up the stairs. He gathered his remaining strength, and
lifted himself from the bed.
Leaning on the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and
with even greater effort, gripping the railing with both hands, he
crawled downstairs. With laboured breath, he leaned against the
door-frame, gazing into the kitchen.
Were it not for death's agony, he would have thought himself already
in heaven, for there, spread out upon waxed paper on the kitchen
table were literally hundreds of his favourite biscuits.
Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of love from his devoted
Aussie wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he left this world a
happy man?
Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself towards the table,
landing on his knees in crumpled posture. His aged and withered hand
trembled towards a biscuit at the edge of the table, when it was
suddenly smacked by his wife with a spatula.............
"Bugga off" she said, "they're for the funeral."
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