© Lottie Nevin
Bali, Indonesia. How cool is this photo of this restaurant, which I feel compelled to visit!? This pic was given to me by Lottie Nevin, who is a fantastic blogger and photographer. Her hilarious blog is one of my favorites, and I consider Lottie to be a dear friend. She has always encouraged and supported me. Thanks, Lottie!
From Ski Cooper, Colorado: Jazz hands everyone! The Flashy Fall.
It seems like in every country, we know that yellow or orange signs signal caution. But that doesn’t mean these signs have to be boring and the same! I’ve noticed that “Slippery When Wet” signs vary quite a bit. The above sign is my favorite — this guy knows how to slip and land on his bum Broadway Style. Jazz hands everyone!
The following photos are part of the Slipping with Style collection.
Ski Cooper, Colorado. Skiers may know a few things about falling so there’s nothing wrong with adding some style — like the can can
Love the high kick on this one. Time to do the Can Can Save!
One of the Hallways of Le Fevre
Adelaide, Australia. 2010. Raiding the supply of “blueys” or blue withdrawal room forms in the staff room of Le Fevre High School, I grabbed a substantial stack. Recently, I had been called a “f**king bitch” in class by one of my year 8 students, so I armed myself with the blue tickets to the “naughty room.”
The withdrawal room was where you sent unruly, belligerent or uncooperative students. As I contemplated how long my blue pile would last, the assistant principal Jane Prince, whisked into the staff room.
“Steph, we need you to teach the Year 7 transition class today,” she mentioned while filling teacher pigeon holes (mailboxes) full of paperwork.
“The what class?” By now I was so used to winging it at Le Fevre, where I had been assigned as an American exchange teacher, it didn’t faze me one bit to be given a class I didn’t have a clue about.
A classroom awaiting students.
“The transition class. Year 7s from feeder schools will be visiting today. We need to introduce these prospective students to our maths and language arts programs.”
“Jane, you really want me to teach this class?
“Yes, why not?” Jane grabbed another stack of papers, licked her thumb and began rifling through them. Soon they were completely sorted. She turned to look at me, while peering over the top rim of her glasses frames.
Because, seriously, you want the kids to come here, right? To impress them.
A pine tree hides Lake Minerva in Danbury, Wisconsin.
Hailing originally from Minnesota — the Land of 10,000 Lakes — I have a thing for water, especially lakes. There’s nothing like zenning out while sitting on the dock of a still lake and listening to the occasional waves lap the side of a pontoon boat.
This is a collection of lake photos I’ve take in the past year. Some of the shots are of reservoirs, which are not the same, in my opinion, but they are still bodies of beautiful water.
Sand Lake at dusk in Salida, CO
Sand Lake, Salida, Colorado, USA.
The convenience of cabins off the highway.
Highway 285, Colorado, USA.
Along this highway that winds down from a mountain pass on the way to Denver, CO, two signs advertising cabins and lodges show up. Location is everything, but placement may be more important. These signs appear right next to a domed pump station. Due to the weathering of the signs, it’s difficult to even see that mileage to the cabins is actually displayed. So, a person who wants that rustic mountain experience may be convinced that the pump station is really some kind of high tech or really no-frills yurt.
Sequins have been used for centuries as flair for clothing. In earlier eras they were made out of metal.
San Francisco, USA. 1994
Sequins: the most indestructible flair in fashion. These sparkly plastic disks are surprisingly tough — especially if you get caught on a Drag Queen’s sequined gown in a crowded bar in the Castro District of San Francisco during Halloween.
Unwittingly, I volunteered for this sequins durability and strength testing on October 31, 1994. One week earlier, my friend Cathy and her boyfriend Grant invited me to come with them to the Castro for what was sure to the biggest and most outrageous Halloween celebration around. We decided it would be far more exciting than spending the night in Berkeley where we all lived. Halloween is my favorite holiday, and I couldn’t think of a better place to be than the Castro.
A bit of history on Halloween in San Francisco and the Castro
The Castro’s celebration, essentially a massive street party, was the most popular Halloween event in the nation for decades. Traditionally, Halloween has been a celebration during which many members of the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender (LGBT) community in San Francisco have felt free to be themselves or their alter egos. In San Francisco, Halloween, as a holiday embraced by the city’s LGBT community, has roots dating back to the 1950s. The Tenderloin, North Beach and Polk Street have all been hosts to the blowout. The Castro naturally inherited the celebration when more gay residents moved to the area in the 1970s. It has rivaled Mardi Gras as far as major ragers go.
Unfortunately, like all good parties that draw the masses, the Castro’s Halloween celebration ballooned to more than 10,000 participants in the early 2000s. City officials canceled the celebration after a 2006 shooting injured nine revelers. While people still gather in the Castro on Halloween it is nowhere near as epic a celebration.
Colonel Sanders is in the House
The flappers and Tinkerhell
Cathy, Grant, their friend Ally and I arrived in San Francisco around nine o’clock. When we got to the Castro it was a total free for all.
Scantily clad guys sprinted down Castro Street while gorgeous drag queens sashayed down what turned into an asphalt catwalk. Public displays of affection abounded. This was a homophobe’s biggest nightmare.
For a woman, however, it was awesome. No cat calls, whistles, getting groped or ordered to “Smile.” Cathy and Ally were dressed as sassy flappers, and making use of a former bridesmaid’s dress and lots of black kohl eyeliner, I was “Tinkerhell,” Tinkerbell’s evil Gothic twin. Basically, we could have been naked and on fire and no one would have given us a second look.
This is sort of the hippie make-love-not-poop (but if you do, it’s okay) sign.
From gentle reminders to accusations of destroying civilization, signs are everywhere prompting people to clean up their dogs’ poops. (Sérieusement, Paris, France, écoutez-vous?)
A Moai tissue holder at the St. Lawrence Market in Toronto, Canada. You also can order one for $28 online from Upstart Crow, a San Diego company. (http://upstartcrowtrading.com/online-store/novelties/tiki-tissue-holder)
Who wants to retrieve tissue from its original manufacturer’s box? Boring. We haven’t seen many advances lately in the tissue and tissue accessory industries — aside from adding lotion and aloe, which was exciting for probably the first two years after the new product was introduced. While roaming around in the St. Lawrence Market in Toronto, Canada, I came across these far-from-boring tissue keepers.
Our unapproved tent behind the pergola on private property near Dominguez Canyon, Colorado
July 14, 2013 — near Dominguez Canyon, CO, USA
At seven in the morning, my husband Kurt unzips our tent door from the inside. Through the open flap and the a.m. mist, we see a balding man in shorts and a ragged T-shirt approach with a dog.
“I guess you didn’t see my no trespassing sign over there,” he states matter-of-factly.
Our raft secured to the pergola.
The owner of the private land on which we had just tented without permission, Ewell, stands just outside our “illegal” nylon shelter. Kurt and I expected a scenario like this but we still aren’t ready for it.
“We are so sorry,” I begin to apologize and Kurt gets out the tent.
“We were trying to meet up with our friends in Dominguez Canyon,” Kurt explains. “And we misjudged how long it would take and we ended up rafting in the dark and we heard rapids, and we pulled over here.”
“We have kids,” I blurt out.
Eddie and Kasey being licked by Odie.
Ewell surveys the scene.
“So, basically, you guys were in trouble,” he says and then comes closer to the tent.
“Let me see these kids,” he moves the unzipped flap over and his labrador bounds through, tackling my son Eddie and licking him and my daughter Kasey all over.
“That’s Odie,” Ewell says. “And he won’t hurt you.”
Leave it kids and a dog to break the ice.
And we needed to break the ice since we were completely staked out on this guy’s property, which turned out to be an orchard next to the Gunnison River.
Audrey is good with a chainsaw and good with the troops.
All I have to say is that Audrey must be pretty badass. After teaching To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee for 10 years and having an annual “Boo Radley Day” where my students and I carve Ivory soap sculptures with plastic knives, I can only imagine what it must be like to whittle wood with a friggin’ chainsaw.
Audrey Hepburn in “Breakfast at Tiffany’s”
Not to mention that one just doesn’t expect a chainsaw wielding woman to necessarily be named Audrey. I keep thinking Audrey Hepburn and cutting a crumpet for breakfast with a chainsaw at Tiffany’s just seems a bit off.
By the way, I’m not saying Chainsaw Audrey isn’t as elegant as Audrey Hepburn.
At any rate, Chainsaw Audrey is darn impressive with her creations.
Audrey’s chainsaw offerings in Cañon City, CO
Stop by the next time you are just outside Cañon City, CO
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