Julie Birkemeier Photography

Sneak Peek: Louie

2011-02-23T18:33:00.000-06:00

Little Lou may be tiny, but he's got a big personality. It shines in the pictures from his photo shoot, but you'll just have to wait to see.

Skippy

2011-02-18T11:41:00.000-06:00

The peanut butter company should use this mug on their jar. Skippy was super fun to work with, and the obvious love his mom Christine has for him made me giggle with delight!

Sneak Peek: Skippy

2011-02-15T17:33:00.000-06:00

Skippy's upcoming post will be even better than peanut butter.

Mutton Chops Friend: Scout

2010-10-11T08:24:00.002-05:00

Mutton Chops Pet Services has been in business less than a year, but it's easy to say I have made some very meaningful bonds with several of my fuzz clients. Certainly every single one of them puts a smile on my face and reminds me I have the best job in the world, but a handful of the pups have become true friends. Scout is one such dog. He is the sweetest, happiest, most loving ball of fluff a dog walker could ask for. He has an absolute perma-grin, and if that smile can't turn your bad day around then nothing can. And you should see him prance on his walks--sends me into fits of giggles. And his people are just the nicest, most encouraging and supportive clients! Scout moved away a couple months ago, and I miss him every day. It was definitely difficult to lose such an amazing dog friend. Whoever gets to walk him now is one lucky person.

Yum Yums!

2010-07-25T23:10:00.006-05:00

Let me catch you up on the recent goings on of the Birkemeier-Balmer kitchen: It's yummy in here!
A couple months ago we decided to ditch our electric coffee maker. There were several reasons, but the main one was that it was, um, disgusting. I'll just say that the coffee maker used to be white. Blech! Now we make coffee a la Mary Richards, aka Mary Tyler Moore. We're using a Chemex now, folks. That's right. I might as well be working in a newsroom with Lou Grant, I'm using the Chemex so much. You would have to come over here for breakfast and taste the coffee yourself to know how much better it tastes now. In a word, it's delightful. And it's fun to make. And it goes grandly with homemade biscotti and strawberries. Booyah!

Those of you familiar with the Chemex may wonder where the cool wooden piece that goes around the center is. We opted out because we didn't want the leather strap. I know...but the wood is so cool looking...I know. But it's less cool looking with dead cow wrapped around it.

As soon as buying cherries wasn't a waste of money you better believe we did so. I love sitting on our front porch as the sun sets eating cherries and relaxing. Joe can spit his pits well into the front yard, while my pathetic attempts don't even get me past the edge of the porch. It's really very sad.

Over the 4th of July weekend I pet sat a household of three dogs. Imagine my delight when I came home for dinner one night to find a heaping plate of homemade pesto and rotini along with a tasty vodka and watermelon concoction just sitting there waiting for me. The cocktail was a new one for us both. We had bought a watermelon the day before, and Joe didn't want to waste the juice so he used it in a surprise drink for his new wife. I found this to be incredibly thoughtful, especially because I got to have my drink in our lone martini glass. Oh, and the salt on the rim was highly complimentary...

I had to throw in that picture of the vodka bottle because we were in Iceland almost a year ago. We totally miss it!! I hope you enjoyed our food. Happy tasting and drinking to everyone!

Francis, Age 4 and Sherman, Age 3

2010-06-02T21:56:00.002-05:00

Francis and Sherman recently celebrated birthdays: Shermy Bean in early May, and Francis Pants just yesterday (or so we say). Here's to the birthday kitties!

We met Francis nearly four years ago in late July 2006 after we had some really terrible storms in the area. You probably know the ones I'm talking about. Joe and I were taking an evening walk in Tower Grove Park, his neighborhood at the time, when I spotted the tiniest of shadows scurrying across Shaw Ave. Worried that he would get hit by a car, I insisted we rescue him. It wasn't difficult to get ahold of Francis. He was so tired and hungry that he let me scoop him up in my arms without a fuss. I remember thinking how docile he was. Boy, was I wrong! Fast forward past the night we fell in love with a tiny gray kitten picking at a plate of vegan sloppy Joe's (and easily naming him after one of Joe's favorite historical figures, RFK) to a couple months later when I had to constantly walk around my apartment with a squirt bottle to thwart off the slightly larger gray kitten hiding behind a piece of furniture ready to attack my legs. I was so glad when he grew out of that...I love Francis! Or as Dave Lodewyck calls him: Frampton!

Always a helper:

Ever moody:

A pensive little man:

A lover of nature:

And a good friend:

Nearly a year after we met Francis, we decided he needed a friend, so we went to the Humane Society to find one. Sherman (or as the Humane Society mistakenly called him, Walter) immediately stood out among the kittens. Maybe because he was the only orange guy, or maybe because he was the largest and we were afraid no one else would adopt him. Either way, we fell in love yet again as soon as we started playing with him in the check-out-this-kitten-and-hopefully-take-him-home-with-you-room. And there you have it. Sticking with the history theme, we renamed Walter after another figure, William Tecumseh Sherman (side note, if you haven't seen WTS's grave at Calvary Cemetery you really should). Francis hissed at Sherman once, but then they became the best of friends. I love Sherm!

So innocent:

Such a snuggle bug:

A lover of naps:

Interested in the outside world:

An expert groomer:

There would certainly be something missing from our lives if Francis and Sherman weren't a part of it. They're the best! Happy birthdays, boys!

Sweet Potatoes and Turnip Greens

2010-06-01T17:00:00.001-05:00

I feel SO lucky that I married a man who likes to cook. If it wasn't for Joe, I know I would be wasting money on prepared foods from Trader Joe's way too often. I'm just a little lazy when it comes to the kitchen. This really is not an issue of "I'm so glad he does the cooking so I don't have to," because I know I still wouldn't do it. To sweeten the deal, he really strives to make tasty meals that are healthy, too. He has a small, but growing collection of vegan cookbooks. This sweet potato and turnip greens soup came from Bryant Terry's Vegan Soul Kitchen. It is super duper YUMMY!

Joe cutting the taters:

The greens soaking in the sink:

Top it off with a slice of homemade bread for dipping, and the taste buds are ecstatic!

Annie: Cute Enough to be in a Toilet Paper Commercial.

2010-03-11T18:10:00.001-06:00

Annie is an 11 week old Golden Retriever puppy. ADORABLE, right?? Yeah, totally. Yes, she's being potty trained. Yes, she has some nibbling issues. But WHO on earth can resist that F-A-C-E???

Chester and Brinkley: Part Two(dle)

2010-02-25T11:58:00.002-06:00

So many great things contain "doodle." Cheese doodle, Snicker doodle, Magna doodle, cock-a-doodle-doo, Yankee Doodle Dandy...heck, the word doodle itself! Alright, onto the Goldendoodles.

Chester and Brinkley: Part One

2010-02-22T12:17:00.000-06:00

Goldendoodle-A cross between a Golden Retriever and a Poodle. Goldendoodle.

Chester and Brinkley are Goldendoodle buddies who love to chew on sticks and romp in the snow. Chester loves threatening the swans at the park, while Brinkley enjoys rolling on the ground. They can both become captivated by a package of pocket Kleenex.

Write Up!

2010-02-10T09:52:00.001-06:00

I've been a member of the St. Louis Craft Mafia for a year now (wow!), and my peers recently created an article about my pet photography work on the blog. You can read it here. Thanks, friends!

Howie and Larry: They don't know they're tiny.

2010-02-06T12:02:00.000-06:00

Everyone who first meets Howie (named after Howard Stern) and Larry (for Larry David) thinks they are brothers. Who can blame them? While Larry is a bit bigger than Howie, they both have the same wiry hair and coloring. But the friends were adopted by their people from two different rescue organizations and nearly a year apart. Despite their small size, Howie and Larry have big personalities. Larry is an accomplished explorer of the backyard, and Howie displays his over-confidence by picking fights with the three huge dogs on the other side of the fence.

Sunny: Sweeping the clouds away.

2010-02-01T17:01:00.000-06:00

I first learned about Sunny a year ago. He is the inspiration for the creations by Haley, of Haley's Handmades, where it's all poodle art all the time. I love it! I've wanted to meet him ever since, and when I finally saw Sunny in person I felt a little bit of star shock--he's quite the handsome man...except he refused to look directly at me or my camera, save for ONE frame.

Red and Gordo: An old timer and a young pup.

2010-01-27T21:15:00.002-06:00

Red is described by his person, Amy, as a crusty old man (which made me giggle). But he has a ton of love left in him, and it was amazing to watch how much Amy loves him in return. He's not so great at walking, so she wheels him around in a wagon to take him for walks. There's a picture I saw from his birthday in which his wagon is decorated with balloons and bunting, and he doesn't look the least bit embarrassed. Red is awesome, as is his brother Gordo. I had the pleasure of walking Gordo for a week a few months ago, and he's so much fun to be around. We walked to City Garden, where one of the security guards is gaga for him and has to give him a meal's worth of treats. Amy is a dog trainer, and she has taught Gordo some great tricks. Hey, as long as there's a tasty reward, he'll do just about anything.

Daisy and Benny: A couple of witty pitties.

2010-01-26T18:17:00.000-06:00

Despite being totally annoyed with me for trying to stick my camera in her face, Daisy was nice enough to pose for a little while. Her friend Benny ate it all up.

Mr. Wobbles: It's not just a clever name.

2010-01-22T11:33:00.002-06:00

Mr. Wobbles is aptly named. He wobbles when he walks. He wobbles when he grooms. He wobbles when he sniffs around. Oh, and he only has four teeth, one of which tends to poke out of his mouth. But don't tell him anything seems off. Mr. Wobbles is a very happy and confident cat. He may look crotchety, but he's actually a lover. I can vouch. In between shots I got all kinds of kisses.

Mackie: "Hello, camera, my name's Mackie! Would you like to be friends?"

2010-01-21T20:10:00.006-06:00

Mackie is crazy for honey nut Cheerios, wears a collar mixed with skulls and hearts, loooves running up to other dogs to meet them, and overall is a ham.

Lucy and Layla: 'Sisters, sisters. There were never such devoted sisters.'

2010-01-16T15:42:00.008-06:00

Lucy and Layla are sisters. Lucy is boldly curious, while Layla is cautiously inquisitive. Layla is playful but polite, and Lucy is a bit more mischievous. They do have a couple things in common, though: each girl loves her sister, and they are both darling.

Lucy Goosey

2010-01-08T12:16:00.005-06:00

Darling little wiry haired dog with a funny long body + a red hoodie that she basically hates = Lucy. I couldn't NOT take her picture.

It's (S)now or Never!

2010-01-07T13:26:00.002-06:00

I'm wondering if other photographers in St. Louis faced the same internal debate I did this morning. Ooooh, snow! I should go take pictures in the snow because snow doesn't happen every day! But, it's so cold out, and I'm so snuggly inside...in my pajamas...with cats snuggling around me...

After a warm bowl of homemade butternut squash soup (courtesy of Joe) and promises to myself of more snuggling while I edit photos, I put on my galoshes and headed outside to the cold, cold, bitterly cold outside.

There's something about a day covered in white fluff that feels nostalgic to me. What's your favorite snow-related memory? Mine is when my dad convinced me to sled down a hill backwards when I was around 11, and I slid right into a ditch at the bottom. All caught on video, thank you very much.

Claiborne: Her Superhero Name Would be "Bat Dog"

2009-12-14T18:44:00.001-06:00

Need I say more? Just in case I do: Claiborne's adorable huge ears make her look like a cute-as-a-button bat! She's definitely a member of The Big Ears Club. The biggest ears ever. So cute. If you've instantly fallen in love, as I'm sure you have, Claiborne is available for adoption through Stray Rescue. Click here to ask them about her. I know from experience that she's loads of fun in the park!

C is for Cookie...which is not good enough for me.

2009-12-07T18:27:00.002-06:00

I don't care what letter "cookie" starts with. All I care about is eating them. Right now, I am sitting on top of Cookie Mountain. I baked a dozen vegan chocolate cookies this evening (a lot for this household, as we don't normally have that many goodies around--I have no control over my sweet tooth when they're present), and I'm pretty sure this is the best batch I've ever, ever, ever made. I used the same recipe I always use, but this time the cookies came out fluffy and baked so evenly. Here is the one difference in what I did: I used a baking stone instead of an aluminum pan. A few months ago Joe bought a stone because he got into baking bread. If you haven't written your letter to Santa yet, you should totally ask him for a baking stone. I don't care if you only bake cookies (or scones, or bread) once a year--you NEED one in you artillery. I mean, check out how golden brown these suckers turned out!

NO BURNED BOTTOMS!!!

Perhaps now you have the Cookie Monster song in your head. Here's a link to the video for your further enjoyment.

In other deliciousness news, Joe made some awesome food over the weekend, including, but not limited to, a white bean soup and adzuki bean salad. The soup warms my tummy and makes my taste buds smile.

And the salad is just damn good. Yum, radishes!

Suni and Dane: Engagement Portraits With a Dash of Cute!

2009-12-01T10:27:00.002-06:00

How have I lived in St. Louis my entire life and never been to Laumeier Sculpture Park? When wedded-to-be couple Suni and Dane chose the location for their engagement portraits I was excited to photograph at a new place. To my delight, the park was not only scattered with a ton of cool sculptures, but also had beautiful wooded walking trails. Bonus: we had unseasonably warm weather to play in. Double bonus: they brought their adorable little pup, Dash. Triple bonus: Suni and Dane are two of the nicest people you'll ever meet.

Recent Kitchen Endeavors

2009-11-19T14:02:00.006-06:00

Joe and I have this really great thing going, in my opinion at least, that on Sundays he cooks 5 or 6 dishes for us to eat throughout the week, and I clean. I would rather clean a toilet than cook (or do laundry, while I'm being honest). I'm just really lazy about the goings on of a kitchen, and Joe enjoys cooking, so it works. And just for the record, I help with the dishes. Anyway, this past Sunday he made paella. It's the third or fourth time in the past year that he's made it, and I think it gets better and better every time. He even bought a special fancy pants paella pan. For those of you who know us, he obviously doesn't add any meat to it, but he does add (get this) HOMEMADE seitan. What a guy! Check it out, and if you want a recipe just let me know.

In addition to the paella, I've been meaning to post the apple pie we baked on November 9 in honor of Carl Sagan's birthday. If you're not familiar with the famous quote, here it is:

If you want to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first create the universe. --Carl Sagan

Joe often says this quote, in Sagan's voice--it's priceless--so baking an apple pie only seemed appropriate. Now, I do have to disclose that I've never really been an apple pie person. I know, I know!! I'm basically not a real American, but for not liking apple pie, I can definitely say that this one turned out damn good. We had a goal of doing a lattice crust, and I'd say we succeeded. Is your mouth watering?

ICELAND SAGA: The Last Day

2009-11-14T12:44:00.008-06:00

For our last day in Reykjavik we decided to explore a little bit more of the city, low key style--no guided tours, no expensive tickets. We spent the morning roaming a courtyard of sculptures by Einar Jonsson (one more time for kicks: Einar, son of Jon!), which was waaaay more interesting than I expected. This man was a talent, as you can see. I wish I would have photographed the titles of these pieces, as it having been three months since I've seen them I can't really remember. I wish I could, because the titles are what really provoked me to study the piece I was viewing at the time.

OK, check out the musculature on this beefy fellow!

Side view of a sculpture.

And the back.

I know this piece is titled Grief. I think I can confidently say this is my favorite.

Spring? The Birth of Spring? Something like that.

Evolution

This one should be titled Raaaaaaaaar!

This one should be titled Gross Man Acting QUITE Inappropriately with Bull. As you can see, Joe is shocked. Disturbing. Just nasty!

Sparks. This depicts the birth Aphrodite.

After the Einar Jonsson sculptures, we made our way to a super old cemetery we had seen a week prior while walking home from that joke of a "World's Largest Pub" trip after I tinkled in the trees. You can see why it caught our attention. We just had to go back during the day and explore. Some of the headstones we saw were from the late 1700s. I love that the cemetery looks like it's in the middle of a forest. And everything was covered in moss.

OK, here's something we immediately noticed about Reykjavik: there were cats everywhere. We would be walking along a neighborhood street and encounter three different cats. Most of them had collars on, so I wasn't worried that they were homeless, and most of them were quite sociable. They gave us our cat fix while we were away from our Francis and Sherman cats. This little guy was guarding the cemetery, we figured.

As we left the cemetery it started to rain, so we took shelter at what had become our favorite coffee place of the trip, Babalu. I loved the eclectic decoration of the cafe. There was a shelf dedicated to Flintstone paraphernalia, none of the tables matched, and several of the walls were covered in maps or record album sleeves. I loved it. I want whoever decorated that place to come to my apartment and do whatever he wants to it. And the soy lattes were delish!

After the cafe we went to Bjarni Fels Sports Bar to watch a soccer match between Chelsea and Manchester United. Despite the game being preseason and neither of the teams being from Iceland, there was still quite a turnout at the bar. It was really fun to be a part of; to be among a group of people that really got riled by the game. The only other international soccer game I had ever taken the time to watch was between Germany and some other country while Joe, Joe Jovanovich, and I killed time before a wedding while in Wichita, KS. As you can imagine, the audience wasn't nearly as enthusiastic. I did not take pictures here, because I would have felt like a creepy tourist.

As we walked around the city that evening I began to regret not having taken more pictures of the neighborhoods. We were having so much fun traveling and vowed to continue on to other countries, and I decided I should do that ever so cliche act of making sure to take pictures of a certain something in each country we go to. So here are some items to consider repeating in the future:

City Hall. I want to know why St. Louis' city hall isn't sitting on top of water, because this was so cool.

Residential window.

Pay toilet! Or, more specifically, Joe about to go into a pay toilet.

The grocery store we often visited to buy more Ramen because there weren't many restaurants with vegan options. In this case, the local 10/11.

A typical neighborhood street, of course.

This doesn't fit into any category. I just liked that there was a bird on every post.

An exit sign

The following morning we left for Keflavik airport.

Um, WHY did we carry so much stuff?

The ride home was fairly uneventful. The lines were long, and, I'll just say it, Customs was a bitch. Soooo, I guess that's it? This is the end of the Iceland posts? Hang on, I'm asking Joe if he has any final thoughts. He says he was a little put off by how touristy the country was; it felt like Jamaica or something (I agree). He's really glad we went because he's always been interested in Iceland and wanted to see the country, and it's hard to believe that we actually got to go. We both know there are definitely some things we learned about ourselves as travelers and as a couple. Overall, I had a great adventure. If you followed all the posts you know there was a lot to do and a lot to take in. There was so much gorgeous scenery and lots of interesting things to do. So, as my last official sentence on the subject: Iceland was WONDERFUL!

Colleen and Joel: A Spooktacular Wedding!

2009-11-02T08:58:00.004-06:00

The scene: Halloween 2009 in Chicago.
The players: One of the coolest couples I know, my friend of 11 years Colleen and her man Joel.
The plot: An amazing wedding day of ceremony, luncheon, trolley ride and costume party, and oh yes, pictures!

Thanks, Colleen and Joel for involving me in your wedding. I love you!

ICELAND SAGA: Revisiting Akureyri's Botanical Garden and Getting Back to Reykjavik

2009-10-28T10:55:00.009-05:00

On our last morning in Akureyri we just had to go back to the Botanical Garden and see the bees again--plus, I was going to kick myself if I didn't take some decent pictures of those amazing flowers. We encountered something I had never seen before. An overwhelming majority of the busy bees we had seen working away two days before were resting on the flowers. Do bees do this in the morning? I was almost sure the first one I saw was dead, but I soon realized there were a ton of bees like this. I guess they knew I was coming and decided to pose for me to make photographing them easier.

I love this picture. The fence going around the perimeter of the garden was so neat. This shot was taken from the outside looking into the garden.

Here's a wider shot of the fence.

Our guesthouse here was my least favorite: it was a little far from town, the shower backed up quickly (gross), and worst of all the hot tub was empty--as if we wouldn't notice!

Once we made our way back to Reykjavik we were greeted with the tail end of the Gay Pride Festival. Unfortunately we missed the parade, but we did get to see crowds of people making their way to the city center for a free concert (of music that we could not understand the words to).

That evening we went to the outskirts of the city to take a dip in their once beachy-type geothermal pool. That long pool of water was nice and warm, but not hot. I didn't have the guts to walk wet in mid-50 degree weather to the open water. I was confused as to whether or not that water was chilly, save for that small circle of water marked by those three little poles. I guess I'll never know.

Joe was determined to, at some point on our trip, go to a "Euro Trash Bar," and he had his eyes set on the bar at Hotel 101 from day one. We have enough class that we didn't take pictures inside, but that didn't stop us from taking pictures by the sign outside. Our martinis cost $18 a piece.

The next Iceland post will be the last one, folks! Woo hoo!

Trix: This Dog is Not Just for Kids

2009-10-21T11:53:00.004-05:00

Meet Trix. She's one of the Stray Rescue dogs currently at the Manchester shelter. Yesterday Trix and I went for an outing to Forest Park where she got to romp, relax, and of course roll...in what I'm pretty sure was doo doo. Trix is a very happy dog, and getting away from the stress of the shelter for awhile made her personality shine even more. If you're looking for a fun loving friend who LOVES belly rubs and petting in general Trix is the gal for you.

Rolling, rolling, and very proud of herself for all the rolling. That huge smudge on her neck in the third picture smelled terrible.

For information on how to make Trix your friend visit Stray Rescue here. To see more pictures from our adventure click here.

ICELAND SAGA: Day Trip to Husavik

2009-10-19T11:25:00.007-05:00

This post may be a bit...unsettling...for a couple different reasons. I apologize in advance.

One of the activities we were most excited about on our trip was the day trip we were taking to Husavik, about a one and a half hour bus ride from Akureyri, to go whale watching. We bought our tickets that morning through Gentle Giants for an early afternoon tour and headed to the Husavik Whale Museum to kill time, which was so neat. They had really great displays on the various species of whales, and the similarities and differences between them. I seriously didn't even know that narwhales existed. The "unicorn of the sea," these whales have long horns on their heads, possibly used for combat. The museum also had about 8 real skeletons from whales that have beached over the past few decades. Sad, but fascinating. After spending a couple hours at the museum, plus I was (eh hem, still am) reading Moby Dick, I was totally ready to head out to sea and look at a real whale in its natural habitat first hand.

For those of you that have not ever been whale watching, perhaps like me, you may have pictured it to involve getting on a small boat and going into the middle of the ocean, where you would then drift along for a couple hours and see what you could see--hopefully some whales, but you're not expecting it to be guaranteed. This was so not the case. The entire tour felt like we were on an adventure, on a hunt. Everyone was constantly on the lookout for any possible movement in the water (Was that a fin? Did I just see a fin? Or was that just a little wave? See that dark shape underneath the water? What dark shape? Maybe that's a whale?), and when something was spotted in the distance the captain of the boat would rev up the engine and get us to the distant blob as quickly as possible. I admit, this was exciting. Joe and I were right at the front of the boat, and if I closed my eyes (which I didn't) I could have imagined I was flying like Kate Winslet. "I'm flying, Joe! Ha ha! I'm FLYING!" "No you're not, Julie." "Yes, I am! I'm really flying!" It was exciting to go fast in a boat knowing I was about to see a real live whale. That was cool. What really did not sit well with us the more we talked about it after the tour was this: So, we get close to a whale, which is great. The particular species we ended up spotting, the bottlenose whale, comes up for three or four breaths and then goes back under for about a five minute dive. There are a good 30 seconds between each breath, and no one can tell exactly where the whale will surface each time. So, if it comes up the first time at the boat's 10 o'clock and surfaces the second time at the boat's 3 o'clock well the captain hurries up and starts the engine to point us to the 3 o'clock. And if on the third surfacing the whale is at our 11 o'clock, the process is started all over again, which I feel is completely unnecessary and disruptive to the whales. It felt incredibly exploitative, and no aspect of the tour embraced everything one may consider a whale to be: majestic, peaceful, gentle, graceful. All so we could see the back of a whale.

This is the view of Husavik from the middle of the harbor.

A boat very similar to the one we were on.

The boat we were on.

I would love to try whale watching again, but I want to make sure to do the research better. For me, it is imperative that the watching be done in a non-disruptive manner. A girl we met on our trip said she had a friend who went on a tour in the Northwest, and they were in a paddle boat the whole time making their way along the sea and coming across whales--not chasing them. I think that sounds amazing and breathtaking, unlike the tour we went on, which was disappointing and troubling.

Before the bus to Akureyri came we had a couple hours left in Husavik, so we decided to pop into the most bizarre museum I can think of and have ever come across. Know that I was uncomfortable the entire time we were in there. It was like a car accident.

Ta dah! It's the Iceland Phallological Museum! First of all, I don't think that "phallological" is a word. Anybody know? Secondly, with over 100 specimens of nearly every type of animal found in Iceland, this museum takes its subject completely seriously. I did not take many pictures inside, because I was too busy trying to wipe the shocked expression from my face. Note: the man at the front desk encouraged the taking of photographs. This place was CRAZY. Here is Joe standing next to a walrus penis. As you can see, it starts at his hip and is taller than him. As you can also see, there are specimens mounted on shields, as if they are moose heads. One of them is coming out of Joe's head. Sorry, Joe.

Did you know that a sperm whale's penis measures longer than 5 feet? I learned this because this specimen is as tall as me. I do not know what is on the wall behind me.

One of the smallest specimens at the museum was a hamster penis. I'm pretty sure this was the smallest actual penis on display. The only things smaller were a few hamster penis bones that could be viewed with the assistance of a magnifying glass.

What I did NOT take pictures of were the just absolutely terrifying looking horse specimens, many of which were crammed into mason jars--most of them coiled around until they stuck out of the surface of the formaldehyde. Just picture (Hmm, should I give you this mental picture?? Yes, yes I should.) a withered looking elephant nose with lots and lots of extra skin. I also didn't photograph the several lamps made out of goat scrotums that were for sale. You can use your imagination. Why, you may be asking me right now, would they do this? My only answer is I don't know.

Alright then, I refuse to end the blog post on that note. Enjoy these pictures from around Husavik and the bus ride on the way back to Akureyri.

This is a view of Akureyri.

And how about another look at that church with the neon cross to get your mind off things?

Here is the dinky neighborhood Catholic church that I can't help thinking all the Lutherans giggle at every time they pass it.

My Ego Has Suffered a Blow Thanks to PVC and Marshmallows

2009-10-18T15:25:00.003-05:00

Dear Log,
Yesterday my ego was taken down a few notches at the hands of sports-team-theme fleece blankets and marshmallow guns made out of PVC. I was seated among the two at the St. Joseph's Band Craft Fair in Cottleville where, much to my chagrin, the marshmallow guns (pea shooters, basically) sold out within three hours and my work was continuously passed up for fleece Mizzou scarves. Granted, this was in a school cafeteria, and children aren't going to give a hoot about my photography work, and the stitching along the edges of the blankets and scarves did look very nicely done. It's just so frustrating for multiple people to come up to my table and compliment my work (I heard the words "great idea," "unique," "stunning," and "cute[?]" several times), not buy anything, then move to the table next to me and go crazy over a Curious George fleece item. Needless to say, I did not do as well as I wanted, and this is not the first time I've felt this way. The past few shows I've been in have been shows put on by cool people, and I've found myself more frustrated than having fun and more irked about the time and money I spent on creating my items than keeping a positive attitude. So I ask you, Log, where do I fit in the crafting world?! Do I keep my chin up and keep making coasters, magnets and note cards? Or do I try to get rid of the rest of my inventory and tell myself that I gave it a year and it's time to move on? My thoughts are that I should stop trying to craft for an income supplement and do it as a hobby instead. I am just about IN love with the people I have met through the Craft Mafia, Show Me Etsy, and EtsyVeg, and I don't want to stop associating with them. This would mean, though, that I would have to switch up the craft entirely, because photography crafting to me right now only connotes a semi-failed attempt at income. Perhaps I'll take up cross stitching and stitch silly phrases for fun instead. Or I could cross stitch the likenesses of my favorite people over and over and over again. I could have a Christian Bale cross stitched piece on every wall of my apartment...

Thanks for listening, Log!

Mama Dog and Her Boy: Belle and Truman

2009-10-13T21:30:00.002-05:00

I love this story. Belle and Truman came to live with my friend Meghan's mom, Marsha, about four years ago. She and Meghan had recently lost their bichon frise, Mr. Beast (the cutest little man dog in the world), to an unexpected and very sudden death. Marsha found a website (The name escapes me. Marsha, help??) that is basically a place for people to talk about the pets they have lost, and it really provided a great outlet for her. A woman ended up contacting her about a bichon (cue Belle) who was recently rescued from years of being at a puppy mill, and she was about to give birth to another litter. The woman asked if Marsha would be interested in one of the pups (cue Truman). After some thought, Marsha decided that she was ready for another furry little man in her life, and she agreed to take Truman. When the puppies were ready to be separated from Belle, and the time came for Marsha to meet her new friend she also asked what would be happening to the mom and mentioned that she would be willing to take her, as well. While this normally isn't common practice, the organization allowed Marsha to take Belle, also. Belle arrived to her new home extremely nervous--she had no clue how to do normal dog friend things like walk on a leash. But after a couple years of patience and devotion from Marsha, Belle came around and is now a very happy dog. She likes going on walks, and she is always following Marsha around the house. I got to see her snuggling first hand when I recently house sat for the pups. I just love that Marsha was able to find the breed of dog she is particularly drawn to without supporting nasty breeders and cruel puppy mills.

Belle and Truman were so much fun to be around for a weekend. Truman is quite the little charmer, and both are quite content to lounge in the sun.

ICELAND SAGA: Akureyri

2009-10-11T22:12:00.005-05:00

Here's a little snippet of our time in Akureyri (I actually still really don't know how to pronounce this name, so you're kind of on your own). Our plans for taking a plane to the Arctic Circle where we would get a certificate stating we had indeed crossed the Arctic Line were foiled. I had tried booking our spot on the plane twice that week, but no one at the appropriate agency ever answered the phone (damn you, Nonni Travel!) and the plane was full by the time we arrived in Akureyri. Instead we decided to explore the city's botanical garden (much easier to find than the one in Reykjavik, as it was right by our guesthouse and actually exists, which I maintain the Reykjavik one does not). How do I describe this garden? If you've ever been to the Missouri Botanical Garden, picture the English Woodlands section, only more manicured and with tons of flowers planted among the trees. It was gorgeous. The entire place was fairly small, but the intimacy of the property was really very endearing. Our favorite area was the perennials section, which consisted primarily of all blue, purple and white flowers. As a warning, all of these pictures were taken with my little point and shoot--you'll know why I didn't bring my fancy camera momentarily.

We were absolutely amazed and delighted by the amount of bees we saw in the garden, both the big old fuzzy ones and the sleek hairless guys. Joe and I have both noticed a shortage of bees in St. Louis, which is troubling, so to see multiple bees working on one plant was a refreshing change of pace. Look! Three on one flowering stalky thing!

I can count 6 in this picture! We stood in that garden for a good 20 minutes just watching bees, and I remember being so happy. I was like "Whoooooa!" the entire time--like I had never seen bees before. There was lots of smiling. Thanks, bee friends!

Can someone tell me what kind of flower this is? I think it is so neato.

Me outside of the garden gate.

Ok, so here's why I didn't bring my good camera with me. Since we couldn't go to the Arctic Circle (damn you, Nonni Travel!) we decided to go BOWLING instead! We had passed a bowling alley on our way from the domestic airport to our guesthouse and didn't think we could pass up bowling in Iceland--it heightens the already fun times of bowling by tens, if not hundreds of times over. The bowling alley was completely Americanized, so much so that the wall above the lanes was a depiction of a huge, waving American flag with bowling pins floating across, seen here.

Game one: Joe beat me, but it was only by four pins. As you can see, we are both terrible at bowling.

We each enjoyed a crispy Stella during play time.

Joe gets a strike!

Here is the Lutheran church at the center of the city. It sits high on top of a hill for all to see. Oh, and if it looks like that cross is glowing, that's because it's neon. The Icelandic Lutherans like to do it classy.

You do NOT want to miss the next post, folks. You'll see our day trip to Husavik where we went whale watching, but that is not the most interesting part of the day. Just you wait and see. Oh, and in case you're disappointed in my crappy garden pics, know that we went back a couple days later because we loved it so much and I took better pictures with my better camera. Stay tuned.

Ode to My Brother on the 30th Anniversary of His Birth

2009-10-09T00:01:00.002-05:00

The only fight my brother and I have ever had was when we were both kids; I'll say I was around 7 and he about 11. It was over Micro Machines. Jeff and I would go in the basement, lay pillows on the floor and then drape his moon and space themed comforter over them. We would drive the Micro Machines over the terrain and then pull the vehicles into the Micro Machine parking garage. I have no idea what the fight was over, but I do remember it resulting in us having to kneel on the kitchen floor for some time with our backs straight. It hurt like hell, but I can assure you, my mom is not a cruel woman. We've never fought since. I guess if we've ever felt a twinge of anger at each other our knees begin to ache and we find a way to resolve the problem.

So, Jeff, on your 30th birthday I want to say thank you for all the things you've done for me from influencing my love for the original X-Men cartoon series (I wanted to BE Rogue) to encouraging me to follow my dreams, and all the other things in between: being a great friend that I could climb on our Sky Fort with, letting me win the occasional game of Mortal Kombat, watching movies and TV shows with your little sis, introducing me to good wine, and letting me cry to you about anything I want. OH, and being my date for last year's ASMP holiday party and sitting on Santa's lap with me for a picture!

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!

(jb)^2: The Wedding Blog

2009-10-08T23:11:00.000-05:00

For those of you who didn't know already, Joe and I are engaged! I created a wedding blog, so if you have nothing better to do and would like to witness the journey, here's the link !

Nicole and Danny: Has It Been Two Years Already?

2009-10-06T03:22:00.001-05:00

I asked my friend Nicole and her man, Danny, to be my guinea pigs a couple weeks ago when I wanted to try out some different pics from what I have been doing. Nicole happily obliged, and Danny went along with it like the good sport he is. It wasn't until just yesterday that Nicole reminded me that it's been just about two years since she and Danny started dating. Now I'm really glad I took these pictures!

I love it! I love them! Sooooo cute!

ICELAND SAGA: The Road to Isafjordur

2009-09-29T18:30:00.001-05:00

The bus that took us from Breidavik/Latrabjarg (or Puffin Wonderland, as I like to think of it) was actually a 12 passenger van caravaning with a second 12 passenger van and a large commercial tour bus that was not filled to capacity. I didn't question it. I was just happy to have a guaranteed ride. Despite the comfort of having transportation, however, I was very uneasy about the 5 hour drive to Isafjordur. You see, I tend to get car sick in the backs of vehicles--nothing severe, but certainly uncomfortable--and from what I had seen of the windy mountain roads so far, I felt my chances of nausea were between fair and guaranteed. I was especially worried because I could not find my Dramamine, my security blanket, which I was sure I would vomit all over the place in a hugely embarrassing fiasco without. The panic was enough to make my stomach hurt, but after rummaging through my bag for a second time I found the pills ten minutes before we took off. Sigh of relief.

Here are some words and phrases to describe the roads we drove along: um, let's see, "terrifying" is definitely one of them, "steep," "narrow," "curving," "unpaved," "full of sharp turns that the driver took too quickly in my opinion," "lacking ANY guard rails." And here are some words and phrases to describe our bus driver: "very, very nice and funny," "a badass," "a real stud," "drives like he used to compete in NASCAR," "overly confident in his driving ability on these roads, perhaps, but hey he does this all the time and he got us to our destination in one piece."

And here's what was smack dab in the middle of the drive and the destination for a fifteen minute break.

Absolutely gorgeous, right? All the travelers tumbled out of the vehicles and immediately started snapping pictures. Here's the one I took of Joe:

And the one he took of me:

So far on the trip we had only gotten one picture of the two of us together (Gulfoss) so we decided to be brave and ask someone to snap one here. The man we asked was very kind, and he took the shot VERY seriously. We posed, and he suggested that perhaps the picture would look better if we scooted a couple inches to our right. So we did. But the kind man was not satisfied. What would look even better, he said, was if we moved ten feet backwards and three feet to the right. He placed us exactly where he meant. Wow, this is going to be a really good picture, I thought, This man really cares. We posed and waited for him to finalize his composition. And waited. And started laughing while we waited some more. And then he clicked the shutter. We thanked him for the photo and for taking the job so seriously. And then we looked at the back of the camera (WARNING: WORST PHOTO OF ME EVER TAKEN!! DON'T LOOK FOR MORE THAN A COUPLE SECONDS!)

Now, avert your eyes! Did you see it?? He only photographed the mini waterfall! The little guy! Why, oh why, would he do that? If someone asked me, heck, if someone asked a child to photograph them in front of the waterfall, both the child and I would have included that large, glorious waterfall at the top of the mountain in the background. Joe and I immediately burst into a laughing fit. Actually, that picture of me by myself was taken right after this one, and I'm still laughing in it.

We arrived in Isafjordur at 9 p.m., hungry and sleepy. We checked in to our guesthouse, made a bowl of pasta, and hit the hay. We were only going to be in the town for that night. It was really just a stop on our way to the country's second largest city, Akureyri. We woke up early the next morning to do a little bit of exploring before having to leave for the domestic-flights-only airport.

This picture makes me think of the riddle "Why is a raven like a writing desk?" Click here to read some theories.

Waiting for yet another bus...

Thanks for getting my head in there, Joe. Off to Akureyri in a little plane!

Emily and Jason: A Wedding Day of Bipolar Weather

2009-09-28T20:41:00.003-05:00

My friend Emily got married this past Saturday, a day of helter skelter St. Louis weather. Before I met up with her at 1:00 it had already rained early in the morning, then had become sunny in the late morning, and as I drove to the church it was pouring again. By the time I pulled up to St. Mark's Episcopal the rain had died down enough for me to get my equipment inside without having to sprint. It had, however, picked up just in time for Emily's brother-in-law and father to arrive with her flowers and dress, which they successfully brought inside with a few tricky umbrella maneuvers.

We adjusted our shooting schedule to work around Mother Nature's, and started out with some inside pics first. Luckily the church has a back entrance that is all windows, and I was able to shoot with my favorite light of overcast.

Then we moved into the church for some drama lighting. Oohs and aahs now, please.

About 45 minutes before the ceremony was supposed to start, the clouds opened up to reveal sunny sun sunshine!! It was just gorgeous, and Emily went from happy-to-be-getting-married to ecstatic-that-the-weather-was-cooperating-AND-she-was-getting-married! Needless to say, we took full advantage of the weather and went out to the courtyard for more pictures, careful, of course, not to let Emily's dress rest on the still wet ground for too long.

Emily and her nephew, Oscar, in his little oversized jacket!

I like the decor of the church. Very simple, but isn't simple always the most attractive?

Congratulations, Emily and Jason! Thanks for asking me to be a part of your special day!

Gretel: The Cutest Boxer/Lab Mix You'll Ever Meet

2009-09-23T07:35:00.001-05:00

I just HAD to interrupt the Iceland posts to share pictures from a shoot I did a little over a week ago with a 9-year-old boxer/lab named Gretel. Gretel's mom, Jenny, contacted me about a month ago after seeing some of my other dog portraits on the beloved interwebs, saying she wanted portraits of Gretel taken as a surprise for her husband for their upcoming second wedding anniversary. I love, love, love this idea! It immediately gave me a fuzzy feeling inside because it's so obvious what an important part of the family this sweet companion animal is. No new watch, engraved money clip or even weekend getaway: portraits of their favorite four-legged friend. Makes me happy!

Of course I was excited about the shoot--I love animal portraits--but imagine how my heart swelled as soon as I saw Gretel in person. I mean, just LOOK at that under bite! I couldn't get enough of it. The girl had such a personality--sweet as pie and happy as a clam. Ok, so she couldn't sit still in one spot for very long and her dinner was surely ruined by all the treats her mom had to bribe her with, but what a mug! She was so much fun to photograph, and I have to say that Jenny is one of the nicest people to talk to. We talked the entire shoot with ease, and I'm so glad our paths have crossed.

I received word that Jenny's husband was indeed surprised by the portraits. I'm so glad a could be a part of this wonderful occasion!

ICELAND SAGA: Even More Puffins!!

2009-09-19T11:56:00.002-05:00

Even more amazing than the beach at sunset was the beach at sunrise the next morning. We strolled along the coast at 7 a.m., seeing only one other person--and she was at the other end of the beach.

A view of the farm from the beach:

The sheep that roamed the farm. Those ladies have the life.

This was the view from our room.

In order to leave Breidavik, we had to take a bus that only comes once on Monday, once on Wednesday, and once on Saturday (this was a Wednesday). We were relying on the owners of the farm to call the bus driver and have him pick us up from the guesthouse. Upon checking with the woman at the front desk the day before, we were told the bus driver had not yet answered his phone. If he didn't pick us up we were basically stuck, so this was a bit nerve racking. By morning the bus driver had apparently been reached, as we were told he was coming to pick us up later that day. We waiting in the eating area, finishing up post cards and reading books over coffee and tea. Really good coffee.

There was a refrigerator of drinks to buy, like this orange drink.

Joe hopes the bus comes. Joe sees the bus. Joe is relieved to be on the bus.

To our delight, the bus route involved going back to the bird cliffs so everyone could walk around for 90 minutes and look at the puffins before moving on to the next town. The SEVERAL pictures are all about the puffins. They are just cute as the dickens!

Oh, hello! Have you been here this whole time?

Aw, nuzzling. The third puffin looks on with approval.

Be seeing you!

Hey, wait for me!

Feeding. Mmmm, regurgitated food...

I know this is totally gross, but I just HAD to show this. So, to reiterate, we were on a cliff in remote Iceland. Tourists were around, but we saw only a couple dogs, and they were small. And there were poops this large EVERYWHERE!! Everywhere. WHERE did they come from?? I can't imagine it all being from dogs. Who would bring large dogs to the top of a cliff around hundreds of adorable and vulnerable puffins? I have no explanation.

Ok, back to the puffins.

This is my Why did I did I have the camera turned vertical?! picture. Aaargh!!

I brought you a flower.

I brought you several flowers.

I brought YOU a bunch of flowers!

It started to rain, but this little guy decided to tough it out.

This one was not happy about the rain. Sir, it was just sprinkling!

So, those are the puffins! I hope it was worth the wait. I can easily say that our two days in Breidavik spent on the farm, the beach, and with puffins were my two favorite days of the trip. On to Isafjodur!

ICELAND SAGA: The Puffin Post!

2009-09-15T23:10:00.006-05:00

The wait is over, and the puffins are here for the first of two puffin posts! This post is going to be uncommonly light on words, but I've been so busy, and I feel like I've been keeping you in puffin suspense long enough. Without any further ado, the puffins (and pictures of our trip along the way)!

On Monday morning Joe and I left the Salvation Army Guesthouse to start our trip to the Westfjords. Thanks Salvation Army Guesthouse!

Stikkisholmur: the town we traveled to by bus in order to catch a ferry to the Westfjords.

In the Westfjords, we stayed in Breidavik (that d gets a slash again, so it's pronounced "Breithavik), which consists of a working farm, the guesthouse where we stayed, and a super old church. Behold, the entire town of Breidavik:

About 6 miles away was the town of Latrabjarg, home to Iceland's best bird cliffs, where many many puffins nest during the summer. Look, puffins!

We saw two other species of birds at the cliffs, as well. Is this the Common Guillemot? I think, yes? Or this just a gull. Either way, look how fuzzy the babies are!

The cliffs themselves are quite spectacular to look at. There are four tiers. Due to time constraints, we only walked along the first. Like an old man, my knees were really bothering me from all the walking we had done so far in the trip, so one cliff was plenty for me.

See that rectangular building? Apparently that is Europe's western most pizza hut. We never saw anyone walking around with slices, though, so I don't know if it's still in operation. I don't remember what the building next to it is. Bathroom?? Doesn't matter, because I just go in the trees.

Yes, that is a puffin behind Joe.

Yes, that is a puffin behind me.

Once we got back from the cliffs, Joe and I walked on the beach at sunset. As you can see from the picture of Breidavik, the guesthouse is only a few hundred yards away from the beach. Sigh, how romantic.

The water was CHILLY!

Awwwww...

I'm the one who drew the heart. I had no idea I could draw hearts so boxy.

We were really surprised at how big the waves got. We figured that because we were on a small beach stuck between two fjords that the water became more intense and choppy.

Ok, these aren't that big.

That was your puffin and beach introduction. The next post will be much more puffin heavy. Toodle-oo!

ICELAND SAGA: Tjornin and the Metal Viking Boat

2009-09-02T11:36:00.002-05:00

I know, I know, I'm not churning out my Iceland posts fast enough. We got back three weeks ago and I'm only on day 4 here!

Very near our hostel was a small park featuring a man made lake called Tjornin ("tjorn" meaning "pond").

It was one of our favorite places in Reykjavik to walk around. There were always ducks, seagulls, and geese around, and it was fun to see them go about their business. Watching the ducks casually motor themselves around the water provided endless entertainment for us, especially when they put their heads under water to look for a snack, and their little butts popped up. We broke into giggles as their little feet kept paddling in mid air. It's the simple things I tell you! The small lake is located at the edge of the city and provides a lovely view of the southern skyline.

During the afternoons at Tjornin the seagulls get quite disorderly. We never fed them ourselves, but we did witness on more than one occasion people feeding the gulls and then trying to get up and walk away. As they walked along the lake the seagulls followed them, flying around their heads looking for more hand outs. I snapped a picture of a little boy and his mom unsuccessfully trying to escape. I think a couple of the birds actually grabbed the boys' shirt.

There are just a ton of them!

A seagull and a duck are having an argument, and the duck is chasing the gull off.

This was our last day in Reykjavik before moving on to the Westfjords, so we decided to hit up the museums. Before going to the National Gallery and the National Museum (where there were some really awesome large black and white prints of children working on fishing boats in the early 20th century), we visited the Saga Museum. This is a fairly new museum in which there are incredibly life-like human replicas decorated to portray the history of Iceland. Again, I didn't take pictures of these because I wouldn't hang them on my wall, and again, I'm kicking myself. There are some pretty neat pictures here. The building that the museum is housed in is really cool. It's called Perlan ("The Pearl" in English). The building is a glass dome which sits on 4 huge water heaters.

In the evening we planned on going on "The Original Haunted Walking Tour of Reykjavik," which sounds cheesy but I was totally excited about it. Unfortunately, the guide only took cash, which we did not have, but he was NOT very nice about it and it was like $20 a person. We've decided that the tour is a novelty scam. Instead we went to a co-op cafe/bar where we each had a beer that tasted like a tortilla chip. There were pig tails painted on the bathroom mirror, as shown in this totally unsuccessful photograph. I guess I should have held the camera above my head.

Random building in Reykjavik that looks like art.

Also that evening, we walked to the waterfront to see SunCraft, a metal sculpture of a viking ship. Perhaps these images will better illustrate how light it stays in Iceland than the picture of the trees I peed in. The images were snapped at 10:30 p.m.

Statue at the center of the city.

Statue down by the waterfront. It's like the Immigrants on The Hill!

Stay tuned! The next post to come is about puffins!

ICELAND SAGA: Videy and "The World's Largest Pub"

2009-08-18T19:21:00.012-05:00

With fresh clothes and caffeinated tummies, Joe and I decided to start our Saturday off with a trip to Reykjavik's Botanical Garden. We walked to the bus station to buy tickets, arriving at 11:25. I guess we shouldn't have been surprised upon seeing everything at the station shut down, considering that nothing else in the city was open. To reiterate, we quickly learned that on the weekends in Reykjavik nothing happens in the morning. A lone concession worker informed us that tickets were not being sold until noon. Rather than wait, we decided to walk to the Garden, housed in the middle of a rather large park only three or so miles from the bus station. One of the neighborhoods we walked through really reminded me of L.A., minus the palm and citrus trees. My friend Beth lived in L.A. for a year while working with AmeriCorps and the Program for Torture Victims, and this neighborhood looked eerily like hers. Maybe it was just because of all the stucco. Lots and lots of stucco. The Icelandic houses were a bit boxier, with a skosh of art deco, and the majority of the roofs were tin. Yeah, ok, it was all the stucco. I wish I would have taken a picture of the street so I could have Beth verify that I'm totally off, but I was in "I would never hang a picture of this on my wall" mode, which makes me worry that I'm a poor photographer.

We found the park easily with our trusty Lonely Planet map, but we weren't so fortunate with finding the Garden itself. You see, this particular park has no roads running through it, so once we entered it we couldn't tell where in it we were walking. It's difficult to tell where you are on a map based on open fields and trees. After a couple hours of roaming, with feet starting to ache, crabbiness starting to set in (Remember, Julie, you're in Iceland. You're in Iceland! I kept reminding myself), and little faith that we would successfully find our destination, we decided to forego the Botanical Garden and move on. I can't even find a good website devoted to the Garden to let you see pictures, so I'm going to confidently say that we didn't miss out on much.

On to the island of Videy.

There is actually supposed to be a small dash at the top of the "d," which is pronounced like a "th" in English, so the island name really sounds like "Vithey." Thought you might want to know that. We had to take a 10 minute ferry ride to get to the island. It was a pretty small boat, and it rocked back and forth heavily the entire ride. I felt like a wimp for feeling nauseated. Videy was once home to a monastery established in 1225, but it closed down in 1539 after being pillaged by men of the Danish king. In 1755 the first sheriff of Iceland, Skuli Magnusson (Do you automatically think "Skuli, son of Magnus" like I do now?) had a house built there called Videyjarstofa, which is one of the oldest preserved buildings in Iceland, and incidentally its first concrete building. Here is a totally boring picture I took of it.

Videy is deserted now, save for the cafe inside Videyjarstofa, but anything I have read about the island refers to its population, great farming land and fish processing industry. This is confusing to me, because we walked the trails of the island--which is only 1.6 square kilometers--in two hours. There are remains of a village and a school, and I read that in 1930, 138 people lived on Videy. When the local fishing company closed down in 1931 inhabitants slowly moved away until the island's desertion in 1943. Now that the history lesson is over, here are more pictures.

See those tiny pillars in the distance in this picture? Those are 4 of 9 pillars of columnar basalt sculpted and donated by American Richard Serra in 1990. Apparently they frame a nearby landmark, but I don't know what that landmark is because I didn't see anything.

Interesting Videy fact: The island is home to the Imagine Peace Tower, which is a tower of light created by Yoko Ono in 2007 in memory of John Lennon. Its light shines every year from his birthday on October 9 to his death on December 8. Needless to say, we did not see it. I'm not a huge John Lennon fan or anything, but the tower would have been cool to see against the Aurora Borealis. Oh well.

Also, in 2000, a statue of Virgin Mary was unveiled as a celebration of 1000 years of Christianity in Iceland. Mary was the patron saint of the Videy monastery.

Back in Reykjavik, after having dinner at another AMAZING vegetarian restaurant, called One Woman Restaurant (rumor has it that both Mick Jagger and Madonna love to eat there),we decided to walk to the next city over called Seltjarnarnes. There were two attractions that drew us to the town. 1. A lighthouse 2. What Lonely Planet phrased as "The World's Largest Pub." The pub was described as having a glass dome and that we should picture "a covered outdoor market with lots of beer vendors." I pictured a very large outdoor flea market. In my mind it was just huge, endless. What we found was quite the opposite. I mean QUITE. What we found was a medium sized business building completely enclosed with a large sky light and several store fronts (more than one was dedicated to selling electronics). We walked around its outside several times thinking we must have missed something or gotten the address wrong, but it all matched up. All of the businesses inside were closed, except for a dinky bar, whose name matched Lonely Planet's for "the world's largest pub." Picture Northwest Plaza (deserted St. Louis Mall for those of you who don't know) and a scaled down crappier Houlihan's inside it. Then you have "the world's largest pub." I don't know what the editor's were thinking, but the place was an absolute joke. My apartment is bigger than this bar. We had a skunky beer there anyway since we had walked all that way (a Viking, but it's pronounced "wicking," which we didn't know, and the bartender looked at us like we were from a different planet), but it was so not worth it. I guess it was worth the laugh. This is my WTF? picture.

Afterwards we tried to find the lighthouse, but never found that either. Our feet were getting super tired, so I don't think we tried very hard. On the walk back to Reykjavik the Viking hit my bladder. We were just uncomfortably far enough from our hotel that I definitely had to find a place to pee. We stumbled upon a gas station, but when I went in, all of the standard gray gas station doors were unmarked. There were two men in the shop having a conversation, but I felt so embarrassed that I walked out instead of asking them which door was hiding the toilet. No other businesses were in sight, and I was beyond doing the potty dance. Joe spotted this gathering of trees:

Normally, I would never ever do this out in the open. First off, it's a much more difficult task for girls than I think boys will ever realize. A little over a year ago I was assisting on a photo shoot in Iowa in the middle of a soybean field, which was surrounded by miles of more soy bean fields and corn fields. I was the only girl on the shoot. Every time nature called one of the three men I was with, they simply walked into the corn and took care of business. When Mother Nature knocked on my door I realized I hadn't done this since grade school when I went camping with a friend and her family. I wasn't really sure how to go about doing it. Any position seemed awkward to me, and I nearly urinated on my pants. I swore I would never do that again, but there in Reykjavik I just couldn't hold it any more. The reason I am telling you this stupid story, I'm realizing, is really to illustrate just how light out it stays during the summer in Iceland. This photograph was taken at 8 p.m. at the earliest. Even with standing in the thick of the trees I was sure if anyone passed by they would be able to look directly through all the branches and see pantsless me. It wasn't fun or comfortable, and I'm not proud. But my bladder and kidneys love me.

ICELAND SAGA: The Aftermath of a Runtur and the Status of Our Lost Luggage

2009-08-16T14:49:00.008-05:00

Runtur: An Icelandic pub crawl, to be short. On Friday and Saturday nights, cafes by day become bars; bars that normally close at 1 a.m. keep the beer flowing until 3 a.m., and the 3 a.m. establishments stay open until 5 a.m. (with people still in them). If you recall from the last post, on our first Friday night in Reykjavik Joe and I went to Cafe Paris at 11:30. Know here and now that we couldn't make it past 1:00 before pooping out. We said we wanted to experience the runtur, but also didn't want to sleep the trip away. That's what I told myself as I fought back yawns at the bar anyway. On Saturday morning we left the hotel at 8:30 to go somewhere for coffee and wandered around until 9:00 trying to find a cafe that was open. Until stumbling upon a chain cafe (it was obvious), we had only seen signs stating that the cafes we actually wanted to go to didn't open until 11 a.m. at the earliest...on a Saturday...in the capital of the country. Reykjavik did seem oddly lifeless as we roamed the streets, save a handful of other tourists and the street cleaners that drove up and down the streets and sidewalks ridding the city of runtur litter. It didn't look as bad as St. Patrick's Day in Dogtown, but it's safe to say it was a stone's throw. We would end up seeing the same scenario on Sunday morning, too, which made me wonder how much money the city spends on street upkeep every year.

After coffee we went back to the Salvation Army Guesthouse so we could call the airport regarding the status of our luggage, which we still had not received. We had been wearing the same clothes for over 36 hours, and I was ready for a new shirt and fresh underwear, not to mention some socks for the used, unwashed tennis shoes I was still wearing. When we had left the airport the previous morning the nice man at the baggage service counter had handed me two travel kits and told me they were for us to survive on until we got our belongings back. Each one contained a mini bottle of "cleansing milk" that I suppose was intended to double as shampoo and body wash--which never works with my hair--and mini bottles of moisturizer, shaving cream (accompanied by a razor) and tooth paste (with matching tooth brush). They also came with mini deodorants that smelled like cheap men's cologne and a plain white tshirt, size XL. I was ready to get my stuff back. I will say that when I called Keflavik a human being picked up the telephone right away, and it was the exact person I needed to speak to for answers. Supposedly we would be getting our bags delivered to us by 10:00 that very morning. Huzzah! No more passing the concierge's counter with sad puppy dog faces asking if any backpacks had been delivered with only a confused look for a response! Sigh of relief.

The satisfaction of putting on fresh clothes was, in a word, joyous.

ICELAND SAGA: Arriving in Reykjavik and Touring The Golden Circle

2009-08-13T07:52:00.025-05:00

By the time we arrived in Reykjavik I felt pretty much over the loss of our luggage, having just spent two hours in The Blue Lagoon and taking a 30 minute nap on the bus ride to the city. Reykjavik is fairly small, and most of our activities would be around the city's center, which is very easy to navigate with a map. We were able to quickly find our hotel, The Salvation Army Guesthouse. After we checked in we decided to walk around the city and see what we could find. Reykjavik is built on a hillside (mountainside?), and it immediately reminded me of a mini San Francisco. Some of the streets went pretty steep. The weather was a mild 55 degrees, or so, and it was sunny, but I was glad to be wearing a cardigan over my tshirt when the breeze blew. After eating lunch at an exclusively vegetarian restaurant (delicious!!) we quickly ran into Reykjavik's largest Lutheran church, Hallgrimskirkja. Definitely check out the pictures in that link, because this is what we saw:

Total bummer that the church was so heavily scaffolded. It sits at one of the highest points of the city, and we could see it almost anywhere we went--a constant reminder that Hallgrimskirkja looked more like the Chrysler Building than a church. Hallgrimskirkja is named after the Icelandic poet and clergyman Hallgrimur Petursson. (Side note: I love the way Icelanders form their last names. It is always composed using the individual's father's first name + whether he or she is a son (son) or daughter (dottir). So Hallgrimur is the son of Petur. I would be Julie Davidssdottir, but my brother would be Jeffrey Davidsson. Joe would be Joseph Williamsson. Now you try! Interestingly, since 1925 an Icelander can only create a family name if he explicitly has a legal right to do so through inheritance, at least according to Wikipedia.) Hallgrimskirkja was designed by the architect Gudjon Samuelsson, and it took 38 years to build, from 1945-86. I don't know what was up the building being renovated if it was completed only 23 years ago, but whatever. In front of the church is this really awesomely large statue of Lief Erikson, who, as you may know, was the actual first European to have landed in North America--not that Columbus fellow.

The monument was a gift from the U.S. in 1930 for the Althing Millennial Festival, which marked the 1000th anniversary of Iceland's parliament. Hallgrimskirkja is the tallest building in Iceland. I guess they built it so tall so they could fit this huge organ inside of it.

The organ was built in Germany in 1992, and it includes a 50-foot-tall case and 5,275 pipes. It was really cool to see in person, but didn't quite make up for the scaffold entombed exterior. Perhaps a trip up the tower of the church, which we were told was still open, would make up for it? Seeing a bird's eye view of the city sounded great. We paid our 400 kroner (a little more than $3) and took the elevator ride up. We emerged to a room half sided with caging, and half with wooden boards blocking our view from the city. On the wall that held, presumably, the most spectacular view of the city hung a large picture, nay, drawing, of the view we would have seen if that huge board wasn't in the way. I did manage to stick my lens past a part of the caging on another wall for a picture. Here, enjoy this photograph of a suburb of Reykjavik.

That sign stating The church tower is still open! should have at least had something in fine print that stated But you can't see anything out of it.

One of the musts we read about things to do in Iceland was touring The Golden Circle, which consists of the prairie land at Pingvellir, the waterfall Gullfoss, and the "original" geyser Geysir (of which all geysers are now named after). Normally the tour is taken by bus during the day, lasting 9 hours, and you're surrounded by 100 other tourists. Here is a map of The Golden Circle (you can see where everything is in relation to Reykjavik, and you can see how far from the city The Blue Lagoon and the airport are). We were advised to take the tour at sunset, as there would be far fewer people and it would only last 5 hours, which is plenty of time on a bus for me. With the setting sun, I was getting increasingly worried about being cold on the tour. I feared that my discomfort would distract me from all the cool stuff we were about to see, so I considered buying another layer. However, the only choices I could find were $200 jackets from 66 Degrees North (like our The North Face) or a $50 hooded sweatshirt from a tourist shop that said in Icelandic I don't speak Icelandic. I would have felt like a real boob traipsing around in that get up, and I would hate to have spent so much money on a jacket, especially if our luggage came within the next couple days. I decided to suck it up.

We got picked up from our hotel (nice service!) by our stud bus driver at 6:30. I wish I knew his name. He was a lanky middle-aged guy who was quite good-humored and talked about random Icelandic facts, but didn't talk too much. Example fact: Apparently there is a hot dog stand that Bill Clinton enjoyed eating at (once? several times? I don't know.) while in Iceland, and the bus driver hears that if you go there and order a "Bill Clinton" they put mustard on your dog. He also talked about the belief in "hidden people" by the Icelanders--at least, no one dares admit that they don't exist. The first stop was Pingvellir (Ping translates into "parliament" and vellir into "meadows"). Parliament was established here in 930 A.D. and remained until 1789. I'm kind of disappointed in the pictures I took of it, because they're not nearly as captivating as actually being there. I tried, though. Sorry, I don't know how to get my panoramics bigger. If you click on them you can view them larger in a different window.

After Pingvellir, we took a very bumpy hour long drive to Gullfoss, which means "Golden Falls." The falls were positioned in the shade. It would have been neat to see it sparkle in direct sunlight, but nonetheless, it was pretty amazing to see. It's just huge. The crevice itself is about 60 feet wide.

It was admittedly quite chilly when we were standing to the side of the waterfall (that top left cliff in this picture). To stand in front of the waterfall, as we are here, is freezing. The mist from Gullfoss was unavoidable. Poor Joe in his short sleeves. All of the people around us were in heavy coats or fancy warm jackets and hats, so I know we looked like a couple schmucks. We snapped this picture quickly, as we were quite cold, then ran to the bus to thaw.

Our final stop on The Golden Circle tour was Geysir (pronounced "gay-ZEER"), which is apparently the oldest known geyser. Since the English translation is pretty clear, I'll tell you that the name Geysir is derived from the Icelandic word gjosa, meaning to erupt. The panormic below is of the inactive Geysir, which is all we saw of it.

In 1910 it erupted every 30 minutes, but gradually slowed to a stop. Random earthquakes throughout the 20th century have revived the geyser, and now it erupts about 3 times a day. We did, however, watch the geyser Strokkur erupt several times, as it goes off every 4 minutes or so. I used the motor drive on my camera to capture its sequence.

And here it is backlit.

We were dropped back off at our hotel around 11:30. The sun was still out enough to see by (think 8:30 p.m. St. Louis time in the summer), which intrigued us, and we wanted to take advantage of the long days. We decided to go out to a cafe/bar called Cafe Paris. When we tried to order a Danish beer called Tuborg (it was the first one I saw that I was sure of on pronunciation, so that's why I ordered it), the bartender told us that if we were going to visit Iceland we need to drink Icelandic beer. He gave us each a Gull, as in seagull, and I'm telling you that was some skunky beer. We sat at the bar sipping on the drinks and pretty soon the bartender started doing tricks, a la Cocktail. It was like a young Tom Cruise was standing right in front of us flipping bottles and throwing ice into the air to catch the pieces in a glass before cooly pouring a sweet liquor over them. After making a particularly sassy looking cocktail the bartender dipped a straw in the drink and, after taking a taste, proceeded to double dip the straw back in and take another drink. I think my jaw fell open. I guess that's cool in Iceland, though. When I asked him what the drink was he replied, "A cocktail." Oh, ok, thanks.

ICELAND SAGA: The Blue Lagoon

2009-08-12T16:25:00.031-05:00

Hello, Friends!

Joe and I returned from our trip to Iceland on Monday night, and I have the first of several installments of stories and pictures for your pleasure. We started planning our trip in early April, giving us 4 months to figure out exactly we wanted to see and do. I didn't know much about Iceland at the time but a photographer friend and mentor, Jay Fram, had gone in 2007, and his photographs got me really excited to go. The prospect of the mix between city life in the capital of Reykjavik and remote nature excursions in the Westfjords sounded perfect to me. Joe and I are not campers, that is, we've never attempted camping together, and a chilly foreign country probably wasn't the place to try it. Our plan was hostels and busses, as renting a car currently costs a couple hundred dollars a day. Eeesh. Here is a map of Iceland. Iceland's international airport is located about 45 minutes away from Reykjavik (focus your attention on the lower left corner of the map). We left St. Louis at 2:30 on Thursday July 30. Joe and I were a little nervous about the flight (I tend to picture exploding into a ball of flames immediately after take off), so we each had a Mexican Sidecar at the airport's Tequilaria.

A rip off, yes, but it was worth easing the tension. By the way, those folks can make a good drink. It was super tart and not too sweet. But I know you don't care about the drinks we had in St. Louis, so I'll move on. The flight times worked out perfect for preventing jet lag. We were to arrive at Keflavik at 1:30 a.m. St. Louis time, or 6:30 a.m. Icelandic time. I was really nervous about not sleeping on the plane and staying awake for more than 24 hours, but I fell asleep at 9:30 p.m. and when I woke up at the end of the flight the sun was out, and I was able to psyche myself into thinking I slept a full night. This may seem like meaningless information for the moment, but I wore three- year-old flip flops on the plane. I absolutely hate wearing shoes, and if I was going to be traveling for 11 hours I wanted my toes to be comfortable. I would change into sneakers when we got our luggage at the airport. About an hour before we landed, I woke up to the little old man next to me (Joe and I did not get to sit together on the flight from Boston to Iceland) needing to pee, and when I shifted my foot my left sandal broke. The little nub that holds the toe stem underneath broke off, just clean broke off, and there was no repairing it. Oh well, I thought, it's funny that it happened now, but I'm not that surprised, and I won't need flip flops the rest of the trip. The weather in Iceland wasn't supposed to pass 55 degrees the entire time we were there.

Skip ahead to the hour we sat staring at the baggage claim waiting for our backpacks that never showed up. I think I did a really good job staying calm for the majority of the time we were waiting. I knew it wasn't the worst thing that could happen, and hey, we were in Iceland. I had all of my camera gear with me, too. It wasn't until we were actually about to walk out of the airport without our luggage that I started to cry. Really, I guess it was the uncertainty of when we would actually get our bags, but I was upset that I didn't have a shoe on my left foot, too. I'd been walking without a shoe on for the last hour (I tried hard not to think about how gross that was), and we couldn't get back into the airport to shop for another pair, if any of the stores even had any shoes. When I tearfully walked up to the baggage service desk, the very nice man behind the counter offered me a pair of sandals that a middle-aged man would wear with socks and cargo shorts. I choked back a sob at the thought of wearing this ugly ass footwear. Before I could accept or reject them (I still wasn't sure which I would choose), he ducked back into the office and came back with a pair of women's tennis shoes that were exactly my size. Compared to the sandals, they belonged on a Paris runway, and I took them. Sorry, to whomever these shoes belong, but I have a feeling they'd been there for awhile. Oh, and I hope you don't have a foot fungus, because I had to wear your shoes without socks.

The Blue Lagoon (note: I did not see any of the gorgeous people in these pictures at the facilities) is located in the middle of nowhere between Keflavik Airport and Reykjavik. Perfect trap. We had planned on stopping here on our way to the city anyway, but after losing our luggage this was the perfect way to unwind. Unfortunately, our swim wear was not in our carry-on bag, so we each had to rent a swimsuit. Anywhere else this would have completely grossed me out, but I felt confident that this place knew what it was doing. Now for pictures!

Here's Joe on the walkway to The Blue Lagoon, luggage free.

The entrance to the spa.

Me with the fun silica mask you can slop on your face from random pots

stationed throughout the pool.

Sigh, sooooo steamy...

The restaurant attached to the pool.

That middle of nowhere I was talking about? Yeah, that's it in the background.

After two hours of wading in delightfully hot water, being pummeled by a massaging waterfall, and sitting in a sauna I thought I would suffocate in, we headed for Reykjavik and the Salvation Army Guesthouse. More to come soon.

Rowdy the Dog

2009-07-20T19:48:00.016-05:00

Rowdy has been at Stray Rescue for a few months now. When I first met him, I was sure he wouldn't be there the next week. With his happy-go-lucky disposition, fun-loving personality, and gorgeous brindled coat (so soft!) I thought someone would snatch him up immediately. Unfortunately, that's not the case--he's not even being fostered. So, I decided that I would take him to the Stray Rescue Adoption Event at the Whole Foods in Brentwood to see if we could do something about it. I picked Rowdy up at 10:45 that morning so he could burn off some energy in Forest Park. Spending most of the day in a 4'x6' apartment can sure lead to a lot of build up. Rowdy had such a great time romping through an open field. I put him on a retractable leash so he would have as much freedom as possible, and he took advantage of it. He explored, he ran, he rolled, he chewed on a stick. I hoped it would be enough exercise to help him be on his best behavior for the event, and he certainly delivered. Actually, Rowdy exceeded my expectations. He was such a good boy! He immediately became friends with a 6 month old boxer mix named Gidget. She was also brindled, and people kept mistaking them for relatives. Rowdy was able to sit on command by the end of the event, he only pulled on his leash when he was excited to meet a new person ("My turn for attention, please!" I pictured him saying), and he didn't bark once. No one filled out any applications to adopt Rowdy, but he got lots of love, and a man said he would take another look at him on the Stray Rescue website. Here's Rowdy's page if you're interested. I'm happy that at least he was able to get out of the shelter for a few hours.

There were some other very irresistible dogs at the event. Here's Rowdy's new friend, Gidget. She and a sibling (maybe two?) were transferred to Stray Rescue from the Gasconade shelter, and she had bad mange. The mange is gone now, and she's cute as can be. She's not on the SR website yet, but if you're interested in her let me know and I can put you in touch with her foster mom.

Here are Sullivan and Ozark, brothers rescued together near Cuba, MO.

Someone found them in pretty bad shape and took them to a nearby vet office. Unfortunately, the vet kept them both outside with little food or water hoping they would go away, and they were near death when Stray Rescue got them. I'm so glad they were saved! These two were definitely the popular pups at the adoption event. At around 4 months old the brothers melted the hearts of men and women alike. Who can resist a beagle/dachshund mix? I know Ozark got a couple applications--hopefully Sullivan did, too! They're not on the website yet, either, but let me know if you want info.

And this is Sabor. After his rescue Sabor was adopted pretty quickly, but then had to be returned because his new mom couldn't afford him. Poor guy. He's three years old and sweet as can be. I had to include the picture I nabbed when he was licking his nose.

Good-bye, Weekend! Hello, Monday (and Tuesday)!

2009-07-13T20:27:00.029-05:00

Argh! I forgot to bring my camera with me to Let Them Eat Art! Some photographer, right? I will just have to illustrate the evening for you with my colorful words. Imagine you are me for a moment: You have bombed in the last three craft events you have done--so much so that you have not had to make any new inventory in the past month. There is rain in the forecast, and the sky certainly does look ominous. Secretly, you start to wonder why you gave up your shift waiting tables for the night. Now throw all that out the window and you get my night at Let Them Eat Art! The sun was shining (even when it rained for less than 5 minutes during the start of the event), women were walking around dressed up like Marie Antoinette, my sales were good, and I DID see a flame-throwing ice cream truck! My parents surprised me and showed up halfway through the event, too. Thanks, Mom and Dad--I really had to use the bathroom! I couldn't resist trading with the lovely April Tate of Miss Lemon (and St. Louis Craft Mafia president) at the end of the night. A coaster set and a couple note cards for these hair accessories made of '80s earrings and this to-die-for necklace! I've worn the necklace every day since the event. I strut a little more when I wear it. You should absolutely check out her other goodies.

Saturday isn't even worth talking about, as I shot a wedding that day and had one of the whiniest brides ever. I won't mention the company I work for or the name of the bride. Don't want to get anyone in trouble!

On Sunday I had the pleasure of taking some family portraits for a friend I've known for four years now. That's right, I'm talking about Dave Lodewyck and his delightful family. The whole clan was in town and called upon moi to freeze them in time. Dave's mom will make you feel like you are the only other person in the room, and not a minute went by that someone didn't make me laugh. Here's one of my favorite pics from the day. Oh, and aren't Dave and his AMAZING girlfriend, Mary, just adorable?

You may think my day had already peaked at 10:30 a.m. while I was in the Lodewyck presence, but wait, there's more! Some of you may know that Joe has been cooking his little heart out every Sunday to make our week's meals (Thank you, Joe, as I hate cooking!), but this particular Sunday he outdid himself with a scrumptious foccacia bread. He made the dough from scratch, but the key here was that he blended a POTATO in with the dough to keep it creamy, then topped it with spices and slices of tomatoes. The bottom cooked crispy, and the top stayed doughy. I swear to you this bread tasted like mozzarella cheese pizza topped with tomatoes and spices. Neither of us could get over how great it tasted, and Joe admits it's probably the best thing he's ever made. The picture doesn't do it justice. We just finished off the bread today, and I think we both cried a little when it was all gone.

Sherman certainly enjoyed the rest of his day, too.

Monday was a lovely day, too! I started my day off with some photography in my fellow St. Louis Craft Mafia member Allison Walker Rabbitt of Squaresville's garden. No, awesome garden. First of all, when I arrived at her house she told me to ignore the smell, that she was simply making pesticide out of dish soap and peppers because bugs are eating one of her plants. I'm already impressed. Multiply my impression by 100 and you know how I felt when I walked into her garden. By the way, she blogs about her garden and how you, too, can have one just as great here. I'll try to remember even just a fraction of what all she has growing there: sunflowers that are nearly 10 feet tall, watermelon, corn, squash, peppers, dill (so fragrant!), hydrangea, money plant pods, zinnias...the list goes on--that's just what I can remember off the top of my head! Not only does Allison have a garden that would put my dinky porch garden to shame, but she is one of the nicest people I've ever met. Another one that makes you feel like you're special. We had high hopes of finding a praying mantis to photograph--I REALLY want to start photographing bugs. While her garden is usually the hippest place for these little guys to be spotted hanging out, alas, they must have known I was coming and decided to bolt for the day. Maybe some gold finches?

No...BUT I was able to capture a couple bees. Boy, do I have a new found respect for people who photograph that insect. Those suckers just don't stay still. I'm going to post one of the bee pictures--please don't laugh. I also took a very mediocre picture of a painted lady butterfly. I feel like if I post the picture it will hurt my rep as a decent photographer. Maybe if I put a cool effect on it you won't think it's so terrible.

All the shots I did in the garden were macro. Here are some of my favorites.

After Allison's, I headed to a meeting with Cindy Vickers of Loosen the Leash. This is a really great program in the St. Louis area that pairs up incarcerated juveniles with rescued shelter dogs. The boys train the dogs for three months, making the dogs highly adoptable and changing the boys' lives for the better. It's had great success. I recently approached Cindy to see if I could do a photo documentary on the program, in which I will study it for at least a year in the hopes of printing a show, self publishing a book, and most importantly bringing more publicity to the Loosen the Leash. Cindy gave me an enthusiastic YES! and I'll hopefully start photographing next week after the board approves. Stay tuned for posts on that! I'm so excited! Speaking of dogs, last night was a lovely night for walking dogs at Stray Rescue. It took a little longer because we were one person short, but Joe and I gave each of the dogs a nice long walk to drain that built up energy. Two really great dogs have been adopted in the last week. Enjoy your forever homes, Judas and Cletus!

And now Tuesday (for those of you who have lasted through this long post): Today Joe took off work for Bastille Day. No, he's not French, but he has so many vacation days built up at work that he is able to take off random days for the hell of it. Don't think we didn't wish each other a happy Bastille Day, though. We spent the day doing laundry and running errands (bought some kick ass Pyrex bowls made by the Unite Steel Workers--haaaaay!). We spent nearly $80 on various nuts, trail mix, and power bars to bring with us to Iceland for the days we are away all day on tours, like The Golden Circle, bird watching, and whale watching! We came home and finally, after months of waiting for season 7 to come out, got back into watching Degrassi: The Next Generation. If you haven't checked out this amazing Canadian teen drama, you must. It goes there! Joe and I have been fans for nearly four years now. We've already watched three episodes today. It definitely felt like something in my life was missing while we weren't watching it.

This evening we cracked open the cantaloupe we bought at Whole Foods today, and I took pictures of the viola, fig tree, and basil on our porch. The melon is super tasty, and as you can see, the figs are almost ready to pick for eating. The viola here is there very first bloom of the bunch, and the basil still has some grwoing to do.

Alright! You have just survived my longest post ever! Congratulations on making it this far! Phew! More to come later this week!

Let Them Eat Art! 2009

2009-07-10T07:32:00.006-05:00

If you're looking for something to do tonight in the St. Louis area, come to the Maplewood Bastille Day celebration Let Them Eat Art! This is a self-guided live art and entertainment event, including 3 St. Louis Craft Mafia tents--one of which I'll be vending at. In addition to our crafty selves, you'll be able to check out belly dancing, dream interpretation, top spinning, face painting, live music, a fire-shooting ice cream truck (I gotta see this), and, of course, food and drinks. Festivities run from 6 p.m.-11p.m. It's Mardi Gras meets Christmas Tree Walk! Hope to see you there!

Announcing the Winner of the Jewelry Box Blog Giveaway!!

2009-05-15T12:08:00.004-05:00

Thanks so much to everyone who entered my jewelry box blog giveaway. I wish I could have given all of you a prize, but alas, there can only be one winner. Before I announce who it is, though, I want to offer a 25% discount off of every item in my Etsy shop to all of you who participated in the giveaway. Upon checkout enter the phrase "I entered the giveaway" in the message to seller and I'll refund you the money through PayPal. The discount offer expires on May 31, 2009 at 11:59 p.m.

And now for the winner! Drum roll, please!!!!! (simulated drum roll here.) The winner is Kohsetdec!! Congratulations to you, Kohsetdec. I'll be contacting you for your shipping address.

Thanks, again, folks. I'll be doing another giveaway in a couple weeks, so please check back!

It's Poems I Love Wednesday!

2009-05-13T16:12:00.005-05:00

Enjoy this favorite by Frank Stanford, which you can find in his books Crib Death and The Light the Dead See. I wish my college poetry teacher could read it out loud for you--I was quite taken aback when I heard him read it. If you're alone (or not) I highly recommend you use your best poet voice and read it aloud:

Memory Is Like a Shotgun Kicking You Near the Heart

I get up, walk around the weeds

By the side of the road with a flashlight

Looking for the run-over cat

I hear crying.

I think of the hair growing on the dead,

Any motion without sound,

The stars, the seed ticks

Already past my knees,

The moon beating its dark bush.

I take the deer path

Down the side of the hill to the lake,

Wade the cold water.

My light draws the minnows,

Shines through them, goes dead.

Following the shore

I choose the long way home

Past the government camping grounds,

And see where the weeds have been

Beaten down,

Hear the generator on the Winnebago purring.

The children of the tourists

Are under the wheels

Like a covered wagon.

They scratch in their sleep

Until they bleed.

When I get home

I drink a glass of milk in the dark.

She gets up, comes into the room naked

With her split pillow,

Says what's wrong,

I say an eyelash.

The Very First (of several) Julie Birkemeier Photography BLOG GIVEAWAYS!

2009-05-12T11:11:00.005-05:00

Ladies and Gents, how many times have you or your girlfriend/wife taken off a pair of earrings before going to bed only to end up losing one half of the set because, say, your cat jumped up on the dresser and started knocking trinkets onto the floor so you would wake up and feed him? I feel your pain, and I want to do something about it. Introducing, my very first (but certainly not last) blog giveaway! In honor of your jewelry that your cats are violating, I am giving away a custom made jewelry box. This box is hand-stained and features a panoramic photograph of a dogwood branch in a lovely sepia tone. It measures approximately 8 x 3 inches.

To enter: Simply leave a comment on this post--you can say anything you want. Give yourself another chance to win by following my blog (let me know that you're doing so in the comment). AND give yourself yet another chance to win by mentioning one of the items in my Etsy shop that you like (or don't like--just pretend). The winner will be chosen at random on Friday, May 15 at 12:00 CST and announced on this blog. I will also contact the winner personally in order to gather shipping information (which is also free, by the way). Good luck!

Thanks, Mom!

2009-05-12T10:10:00.005-05:00

First off, a very happy belated Mother's Day to all of you ladies with children out there. I don't know how you do it, and I hope you know how priceless you are. For her special day, my mom wanted to go to the Missouri Botanical Garden with my dad and me. The grounds were filled with other families who had the same idea, but it wasn't terribly overcrowded. We were able to comfortably stroll the acreage and pause to admire the variety of plants and flowers without feeling like there were people waiting behind us. Here are some of the pictures from the day.