some hobbies as of late

cameras and people who know how to use them really well have been popping up like weeds through the cracks of my little sidewalk of life lately. that sounds like a bad thing; who likes weeds? some weeds might not be all bad but i'm no horticultural expert so i have the right to remain silent on that issue, but weeds really have nothing to do with anything and i'm just distracting myself from the main topic i was originally going to discuss: pseudo-intellectual poeticism.

no, that really wasn't it either. umm, photographers. right.

i've actually only come across three people who know photography but that's kind of a lot for the last 12 months. to be honest that's actually not what i'm getting at either. i was thinking it might help me write something if i took a few pictures. that's all.

anyway, photo numero uno:

this is my 33 week old pineapple plant. i expect to harvest a pineapple from this little guy by the end of summer 2010, and when i do there will be celebrations and festivities. as matt earley once said on his answering machine, "you play your cards right, you just might get a call tonight." (obviously meaning perhaps you'll be invited to partake in the homegrown pineapple)

and a comparison shot from week 4:

thanks to will and elizabeth i've become reacquainted with an old friend:

it's been a while since we were on good terms but i've offered recompense for my lack of communication and we're speaking again. i don't know that we've ever had as much fun together as we've been having lately. it takes a lot of time to nurture a relationship with a personality like this so i'm trying a lot harder than i used to. much of our past experience has been forgotten but i intend to get back into the book we used to use together and teach myself all the positions again.

minds out of the gutter please. that's all legitimate guitar lingo.

and finally for today a look at my single tomato plant (and a jj in the background):

i don't eat these things, i just love to grow them. my dad would plant five or six of them every summer and i have fond memories of relaxing in the back yard with him on calm summer nights as we watered the plants. doesn't sound particularly interesting but i suppose those are the seemingly inconsequential moments you cherish after losing someone you love.