Home to a very high number of annual weddings, this area is the supreme cushy military posting. The beacon is housed inside a huge Fresnel (say “Freh-NAIL”) lens and powered by a 1/3 HP motor. It can, in a pinch, easily be turned by hand. You cannot see the lens, only the outer protective thick glass windows. Every so often, somebody has to get up there and clean off everything from sea salt to splattered birds.The view is superb and most of the tour is on the walkway with the railings you can see. It is quite safe. For the record, this photo is my copyrighted property. Taken with the new $25 camera, this grade of picture takes plenty of experience. When we ran low on memory, we switched to Wallace’s fancy Nikon. Although set to low-res, his unit requires ten times the memory for each picture.
An interesting development last evening, the two girlfriends of the people next door came over. Out of money, cigarettes and a ride home. We politely declined but did donate a roll of toilet paper to their cause. Where have we seen this before? They are awfully good looking. My prediction is like all women in this area, they will begin to continually ask for things that their boyfriends should be the one’s supplying. I have a thick crust when it comes to giving things to women with partners, sort of, lady, you’ve made your decision, so suffer.
Speaking of females with hormones, around 4:00 A.M. I am awoken with Pudding-Tat thundering about the property. How can a dern cat make so much noise? Some kind of rampage, who knows? She then proceeds to bring a dead mouse up onto my bedclothing, pawing it for any sparks. Four hours later, I find half a mouse in the music room (the hind half). No, you don’t get a photo. Shortly afterward (around 9:00 A.M.) in walks Wallace with the 45-pound Millie-Belle, who instantly dives for cover. Who can blame her? That cat is a killer.
I admit, I got pissed off at Wallace today. I told him so many times to clear his digital camera. If you stack up 400 photos, face it, you will lose them. A camera is a bad place to store photos, and I ignore excuses. Sure enough, today a model comes over and wants Wallace to photograph her.
What? You want to see the model? Yes, she is blonde and slim. And young enough. She has lots of friends, and word has gotten around we can do all the computer stuff over here. Thus, some of her friends now want pictures. And I am not about to get stuck doing all the work. I hear you saying STFU and let’s see the model. That’s her in the blue bikini. To set it straight, she is a model, but she is over here as a friend of Wallace. If you want her revealing photo, show up sometime next week. And quit swearing at me.To this day, I am dumfbounded by how much more people know about computers than I do. Just ask them.
