Staying in decent shape so we'll be able to haul cameras around again in the hot Summer. If and when the economy re-opens in Texas.

Recent studies show that sustained, aerobic exercise is the only sort of exercise that restores telomere integrity which is associated with retarding aging. Great! So we just hop in the pool and knock out some yardage, right? Well, tragically, all the pools and public swimming areas in Texas are closed down, so no swimming. I guess you could hop in one of the recreational lakes but do you really want to take your chances with drunk Texans and speedboats?

So we've been running. Which works for those crumbly telomeres but isn't nearly as much fun for me as a good swim. 

I've got two routes figured out at the Butler Hike and Bike Trail here in central Austin. One is a three mile loop and the other is a 4.9 mile loop. This morning I was up and on the trail doing the three mile loop by 7:15. I'm  happy to report that I encountered about 15 serious runners and a couple of walkers over the entire 38 minutes I was on the trail. Additionally, we were almost a satire of safe practices. Runners hung close to the right side of the trail leaving ample passing space on the left hand side. People passing called out crisply: "On your left!" as they sped by. That helps with overall situation awareness and prompts people who have a tendency to drift left to course correct.

But with all this running and no swimming I am worried about maintaining strength and muscle mass in my upper body. There are some easy ways to exercise the bigger muscles with my two favorites being planking and push-ups, but lately I've noticed that no matter how much broccoli I eat my biceps are not getting enough workout to maintain good form so I added some weight training. I don't use heavy weights because I don't want to over build mass; I use lighter weights with much higher repititions to gain strength without adding too much bulk that could impede swim function when my access to the pool returns. Big, tight muscles create their own resistance and make swimming more difficult...

The weights I've been using for bicep and tricep "curls" are 10 pounders and I do 50 reps per arm in  the morning, after the run, and then another 50 at the end of the work day. Same with the triceps curls. It's not my favorite way to train but it sure helps keep the weight down and the muscle mass up. Plus, they are cheap and easy to use and you can train with them just about anywhere. 

Finally, with a few velcro straps they make for good light stand stabilizers. Not as handy as a sandbag but almost. 

I'm upping the aerobic stuff to seven days a week, alternating the 3 mile loop and the 4.9 mile loop from day to day. If you are a good walker and want to take a stab at running you might try doing it in stages. Start with a slow run until you are out of breath and need a break. Walk briskly while taking ten deep breaths and then run again until you need to slow down. Repeat this for a week or two and by the end you should be able to run longer continuous distances. I like interval training because I'm inherently lazy and like little breaks. A walk/run three mile loop is a perfect starter distance. Once you can go the full distance without a walking break you can move on to running a bit faster each day. Or you can just enjoy the same run at a comfortable speed. 

Being fat/overweight/obese seems to be a prime indicator for who will die early so you might think of a good running regimen as an investment in staying alive....

A quick note about the Leica 90mm Elmarit I've been playing with. I'm a sucker for test photos that show the full frame and then show a 100% crop. But I'm sloppy about getting an exact crop. Whatever. Here is a quick, early test shot of the armrest of an office chair along with the mandatory crop in. This was shot handheld, wide open at 1/15th of a second using an S1R with its very good image stabilization. I don't know if you can derive anything from the images but I'm convinced the lens is really good. But then, most are. 

A public service announcement: 

I called my doctor today and asked if I should inject or ingest bleach or 

other disinfectants to prevent disease. He contradicted our president and told me that 

this was not a good course of action. That I should under no circumstances

ingest, inhale or inject bleach or any other disinfectant.

I was amazed to hear that doing so would cause permanent damage 

and quite possibly (probably) death. 

Since my doctor is smart, rarely ever wrong, is board certified 

and graduated from medical school I decided to believe him instead 

of listening to advice from the president, whose expertise is in selling

real estate.

If you like the blog I implore you not to use the bleach or disinfectant for anything other 

than cleaning surfaces or getting skid marks out of your tidy whities. 

I need to keep all the readers I have. 

Thanks. 

First (legally allowable) outing with the Leica 90mm-R Elmarit lens. A morning trip to Pedernales State Park.

I got an e-mail a few days ago from the Texas State Park folks letting me know that a number of parks were opening back up to the public starting Monday the 20th and I rushed to make a reservation. I checked the weather first. The app predicted that today would be a beautiful Spring morning in central Texas. Coolish temperatures and low humidity, and not a rain cloud in the sky. My reservation was for Pedernales State Park which is about 45 minutes due West of Austin. I stuffed sunscreen, a couple water bottles and some roasted almonds into my little leather backpack and grabbed a Lumix S1R with the Leica 90mm on it. I tossed a Zeiss 50mm into the pack, just in case the 90mm became too claustrophobic. Oh, and I invited Belinda to come along with me.

We hit the park around 9 a.m. and picked up our "no contact" windshield sticker from a board outside the park office and then we headed for the falls. The Park officials have some rules: First, all reservations must be made online and in advance. Second, the entrance to the park is staggered by time slots. We had the 8-11 a.m. slot. We're allowed to be in the park all day until 10 p.m. but we had to be in by 11 a.m. latest. Third, face masks are to be worn at all times. Fourth, everybody has to practice proscribed social distancing. With thousands of acres of fun land to explore, and only about 18 cars per time slot allowed in, the park was a much different place than what we experienced a year ago. We saw very few people and intersected with almost no one. Everyone followed the rules to the letter. 

The 90mm Elmarit R lens is wonderful. Very well behaved and as sharp as a macro lens. While I post my images here at 2800 pixels on the long side I can assure you that at the full resolution of the S1R raw files, and with f-stops set to 5.6 or 8.0, the amount of detail you get in a file is just stunning. The color is neutral and the nano-acuity is off the charts. The lens was just as I remembered it and now I'm keeping an eye open to see what I can pick up in the used markets. I'd like to pick up a 50mm R Summilux (f1.4) and also the 80mm Summilux but I fear the cat is out of the bag among Panasonic S users and the prices are starting to surge up again. Not the worst outcome for me; I can always at least try to practice some financial restraint from time to time....

I didn't bring a tripod or an ND filter so all my water in the shots flows in real time. But that's okay; I was getting a bit bored with the clichéd, smooth water I see in EVERY landscape shot that includes moving water.

We hiked until one p.m. and figured we'd soaked up enough vitamin D, nature and sunlight. I'd shot some test shots to play with and it was starting to heat up going into the afternoon (it's supposed to hit 98 degrees (Fahrenheit) tomorrow afternoon --- not looking forward to that). We exited the park and went to look for lunch. 

When we were younger adults, with meager budgets, we always loved finding a What-a-burger hamburger stand out in the Texas countryside. They started as a Texas chain and we trained ourselves to love their griddled burgers and mustard based condiment philosophy. It was, and probably still is, the only fast food, burger chain where you can order Jalapeño slices as an addition to your burger. We found one just outside of Dripping Springs, Texas today but as it was lunch time and they were only doing drive through, the line of cars was outrageous. We skipped What-a-burger and headed towards home. 

There is a McDonald's just a few miles from our house and when we drove by on the main road we saw that there were only a few cars in line so we stopped there to grab a lunch and take it home. We probably haven't done that in a decade but it was a carefree day and we were enjoying the nostalgia of it all. The food was...okay. But the adventure was fun and relaxing. Next week we may hit Enchanted Rock State Park, if we can get a reservation and the weather is nice. 

And I'll probably bring the 90mm R along in tow. 

Signs everywhere telling you two things:

"Practice Social Distancing."

"Keep an eye out for Diamond Back Rattlesnakes."

got it.

An old favorite comes home to roost. It's the Leica 90mm Elmarit-R on the Lumix S1R. Nice.

Leica Elmarit-R, 90mm f2.8 Adapted to the S1R

with a Novoflex adapter.

However you feel about the value proposition of current Leica models it's hard to argue that, through the decades, they've made some of the finest lenses in the world --- and continue to do so today. In the early 1980s one of the most sought after lenses for the M series cameras of the day was still the Dual Range 50mm Summicron (f2.0) which was designed in the 1950s. It could stand up to anything on the market some 30 years later, and it was better than the majority of its competitors. I know, I bought one when I started shooting with a single stroke M3 in 1979.

I was a Leica fan in the film days and throughout the 1990s I shot with both Leica M6 and M4 cameras as well as a very functional collection of R lenses and a motley (and ever changing) collection of Leica R bodies, including: The original Leicaflex, the SL, the SL2 Mot, the R3, R4, R5, R6 and R8 (for some reason I skipped the R7...). I did not own them all concurrently but at any one time I usually had one of the totally manual classics, a mechanical R6 and finally, until the end (death by digital), the R8s. 

But the reason to own Leica R cameras (all SLRs) wasn't for the bodies (some were better than others) it was to be able to use lenses of the same quality that we'd come to enjoy using on the M cameras. There were some things the M lenses did better. I don't miss semi-wide or wide-angle R lenses much; the M versions always seemed better. But the longer lenses (from 80mm on up) were much better suited to SLR style cameras and we started adding R cameras to our systems to get easier good results with fast 90mm lenses, 180mm's and longer. The longer focal lengths were harder to use on rangefinder cameras because the finder images got smaller and smaller while focusing accuracy got worse and worse. 

My favorite working combinations by the late 1990s were M6 cameras with 28mm and 35mm lenses combined with an R6 or R8 equipped with, alternately, the 80mm f1.4 Summilux, the 90mm f2.0 Summicron or the 90mm f2.8 Elmarit. Most Leica R shooters gravitated to the faster lenses not because they were optically better than the slower ones but because the very narrow depth of field on those fast, short telephotos made manual focusing so much easier in dim lighting. Also, we were more or less constrained to use films rated at 400 or 800 ISO at a maximum. So, easier focusing and better light gathering capabilities pushed us to reach for the fastest glass we could afford. And, for the most part, Leica lenses delivered very decent images even when used wide open (as long as you didn't care too much about field flatness...).

Most of us were aware that the f2.8 lenses were either just as good at f2.8 and slower as the fast lenses, the only reason to spend more was for speed, not quality. But we also learned, by shooting thousands and thousands of frames, that when it was possible to shoot in good light and take time to focus accurately, that the last generations of the Elmarit 90-R lenses were better. By f4.0 the f2.8 lenses were sharper and resolved more detail. They were also flatter field lenses so there was less compromise on the edge of the frame. 

Sadly, Leica stopped making R lens compatible cameras for a number of years and interest in the orphaned system of optics waned until the rise of the mirrorless cameras along with their shorter lens flange to sensor distances which allowed for an almost unlimited use of adapters. This brought all kinds of really good, film era, SLR lenses back out of drawers and off shelves and back onto the fronts of cameras. And with highly superior high ISOs (think  6400 and 12500 on the S1 and Sigma fp) the slower aperture hardly matters anymore.

I really like the lenses I've accumulated for the Panasonic Lumix S1 series of cameras I'm shooting with now and my only complaint has been the huge size and  ponderous weight of the lenses that correspond to the focal lengths I'm most interested in using. I love the image quality I can get with the Sigma Art Series 85mm f1.4 but the lens is huge and weighs a ton. I'm waiting impatiently for Panasonic to release their 85mm f1.8 but I fear it will still be a beast; especially if the 50mm f1.4 gives us any indication of their design aesthetic for modern lenses. 

What I really wanted was what I had back in the days of Leica R stuff: a very good lens that's small enough to carry around for a full day and which will blow the doors off many more modern lenses available for other systems. Like the Leica Elmarit 90R. It's not light, even by modern standards, but it is compact and easy to use. The focusing ring on my copy, which is probably 25 years old, is like clarified butter. And the image, even just in the finder, is superb. Quintessentially Leica. 

I bought this current copy of the 90mm from a friend who bought it in a moment of impending Leica lust only to be distracted at the last minute by the Leica S2 camera system instead. I bought it from him immediately. 

I ordered a cheap adapter ring from Amazon.com but in their current disarray, and fervor to ship more toilet paper and Diet Coke in bulk, the adapter ring would not arrive for the better part of a month. Not acceptable. I canceled that order and paid ten times the price for a Novoflex R to L-mount adapter from Camera West in California. It came in a few short days and it fits perfectly. 

I haven't had much opportunity to shoot much of anything with the new/old lens but will take it with me tomorrow on a shooting expedition outside the city. If it's half as good as I remember I'll never take it off the camera. 

Tomorrow I'll shoot it on an S1R outdoors in nature. But what I'd really like to see is how it will deliver when used on the Sigma fp, in the studio, for a nicely lit portrait. That vaccine can't come quick enough. 

Anyway, just wanted to let you know that we're up and running on what will be a multi-post test of the lens. Nice to be back in the Leica glass world. Hope this doesn't lead to any rash purchases of current Leica SL lenses, that way lies financial madness...

Shopping for food and then walking for good mental health. All the while practicing the finest social distancing skills imaginable. Today's camera? The Sigma fp.

I got out of the house early today. Well, if 8:45 in the morning can be considered early... Anyway, I wanted to get to my neighborhood Trader Joe's grocery store about ten minutes before 9 a.m. to get some essentials. Nine is when the store opens to all customers but they have put into place a special, one hour opening each day for "seniors." I got to the store and NO ONE was in the senior line. Not wanting to be presumptuous I decided to just get at the end of the regular line; it really wasn't very long, maybe 20 or so people, all waiting patiently with their masks on and practicing a rigorous adherence to the six foot social distancing metric. 

A Trader Joe's employee saw me and asked if I was there for the senior hour. I said 'yes' and she escorted me to the front of the line and into the store. I felt like a V.I.P. I was one of ten customers in the store when I stepped in with my cart.

I am a quick and organized shopper and can decide on substitutions for unavailable products on the fly. I got the stuff Belinda and I needed and then bought some splurgy treats for Ben: some great goat cheese, stone ground whole wheat crackers, some more yogurt, etc. 

When I approached the check out area there were no lines and three ready cashiers. We did the "stand back" protocol as they sheltered behind Plexiglas-glas(tm) screens and I was waiting and humming to myself when a manager walked up and asked if I needed hand sanitizer or toilet paper. I was happy to get two small spray bottles of the hand sanitizer; it's grapefruit and lemon scented and is my current favorite "stay safe" product. I passed on the offer of more toilet paper.

The roundtrip from our house, including the shopping experience, was 20 minutes flat. I was impressed with how organized (and deferential to our noble and glorious seniors) the staff at the store was but I might not accept a move to the front of the line in the future. I think people who have to go on to work or who are shopping with kids at home might have less free time to spare than I do. Just a thought.

But here's my report: No shortages or outages whatsoever. The regular organic whole milk was short dated but I just upgraded to the organic, grass fed whole milk instead. All the meat and produce you could need was in inventory and looked great. The freezer cases were stocked full. One less thing to worry about in the midst of the crisis...

signage for the miniature train that no longer runs through the park...

At my trail head.

Having finished acquisition of provisions in record time, and hearing on the news that we were about to get hit with a few rain storms, I did what any logical exercise enthusiast would do. I laced up my walking shoes, grabbed a black cotton baseball cap (think Steven Spielberg, not Derek Jeter), a rain jacket, and my Sigma fp camera with its 45mm companion and headed out for the trail. I figured, correctly, that the forecast would keep the numbers on the trail to a bare minimum. I was wrong. There was no one out there. Nor did it actually rain for more than five or ten minutes, and even then not very hard.

I had my plans for "masking" and social distancing firmly in place except...there was no one to distance from and no one to protect by masking. I did, however, not feel the least bit guilty today when stopping for a few moments to take a random photo or two. It's not like I was disrupting the traffic flow or inconveniencing anyone. 

Below is my documentation of the perfect social distancing while exercising to my heart's content in a manner compliant with all local laws, and both their intent and moral weight. With some captions.

There are a number of places on the trail where one goes under bridges and these can 

provide wonderful impromptu cover from hail storms and lightning blasts. 

Just over a little pedestrian bridge and looking up the trail to the north. 

Nobody as far as the eye can see. Or the camera can image.

Then, turning around and looking to the south it's the same story... no one.

the Mopac Expressway Pedestrian Bridge. 

Usually a busy conduit for runners because of the close by, outdoor showers and 

water fountains. Unused and abandoned today for my own private walk.

A sighting. At last. A lone cyclist heading down the trail with a bandana covering his

nose and lower face. Heading west.

No cars on the nearby bridge...at 10 a.m.

In the heart of the park. Tables for forty?

I parked directly in front of Barton Springs Pool (which, sadly, is closed for now) and 

I was happy to see that even my automobile was practicing social distancing from

the other two cars in a lot striped for hundreds...

I hung my mask on the mirror and drove off to look for coffee at 

Trianon. I found coffee AND a chocolate croissant.

Oh happy days. 

Hopefully, seeing this will help some of my friends and readers who live in densely packed cities understand why it's okay for people in other locations to go out for a healthy walk in a wide open park.

Staying safe and trying to live like it's the only life I get...

Tomorrow? We've got a reservation at Pedernales State Park. 

Same rules apply.

Today's project, continued. Cowboys. Painting. And more.

We loved the Cowboy Paintings when we moved in.

They seemed just right for a young Texan like two year old Ben.

Today's big assignment was to make an archival documentation of the "primitive" paintings that have graced our back porch for over 23 years. It was long past time to re-paint all the wood and, as we no longer have any children in the house, Belinda decided that now was the time. But before we started the painting process the big, sentimental, nostalgic softie who lives in the house insisted on creating a record of the artworks. (That would be me...). Scrapbook material. Memories.

I found myself well supervised by a lizard who seems to be one of many that has a key to the house. I find them more often that one would imagine, and in all the weirdest places. I check my hiking boots regularly before putting them on...

I used two cameras to document the painted panels you'll see in this post, along with natural light coming through two semi-diffuse, four foot by four foot skylights that help keep the porch lit up all day long. The primary camera was the little Sigma fp with the highly competent 45mm f2.8 lens (used mostly at f8 and occasionally at f16). This combo was used on a Gitzo G 2220 tripod to keep everything nice and sharp. 

The other camera was a Lumix S1R which I used to make a few wider photographs to show more of the wall and also the set up with the Sigma fp. The S1R was paired with the 24-105mm lens and was used for the photo I like most from today, which is the lizard just above...

The Gitzo G 2220 tripod has a built in "side arm" that allows for two things:

You can shoot from straight over the top of things or you can orient 

the side arm so that the tripod can be used super close to the ground.

It's absolutely as solid as a block of lead. But what did you expect from 

an "old school" metal Gitzo?

A stout Manfrotto bullhead held an Arca Swiss plate adapter

and the whole assemblage offered an infinite range of placements for the 

camera. The fp is just the right size and weight for this kind of work. 

No matter how many tripods you own you should always also have a Gitzo.

Gitzo and fp working beauty shot. 

The new color for the porch will be "Baked Clay" which is being sampled in the background.

It's too light in this shot because I increased the exposure in post to get more 

detail in the black camera body.

Belinda tired of the cowboy paintings quickly (years and years ago) but it's credit to her patience and forbearance that she allowed me to keep them around so long. Like many things in life, I will miss them. She, on the other hand, is always delighted by a fresh coat of paint. 

At least I found a good use for the cameras today.

Re-orienting your photography when it's currently impossible to do work in the style you want...

For the first month of the "stay at home" program I felt a bit powerless and lost. I couldn't justify going out on photography adventures and home seemed so (too) familiar a place in which to discover new visual delights. I almost gave up hope of being able to photograph in a style, and in a location that would inspire me. What if we were constrained to stay home for years? What then? 

But I remembered a phrase from a movie that helped give me some perspective. It was: "Wherever you go, there you are." 

If you've been grieving for your lost photography I think you can survive if you are flexible enough to try new things. 

I'm less than happy to be in one spot all day long. When the parks closed over the Easter Weekend, and the State Parks closed down "until further notice" I thought we'd be stuck in a half mile radius of our homes for a long time. Yesterday the Texas Parks authorities announced that they were selectively re-opening a number of state parks. Restrictions will be tighter. Masks must be worn. Social distancing must be observed, and only a limited number of visitors per day will be allowed in each park.

You must make reservations online, in advance. 

But for me it was like Christmas. I immediately booked a reservation for this Thursday and started planning my new side career in Fine Art Photography as a Texas Hill Country landscape photographer. 

I'm charging up batteries for the S1R and pulling out the wider lenses. I've even reacquainted myself with the high resolution mode  in the Lumix camera so I can squeeze every last nano-meter of hyper acutance out of every frame. 

Pre-Crisis I thought of myself as a photographer whose talents lay solely in portrait work. But if I'm willing to be flexible I might even enjoy taking a landscape or two. At least I can instruct my mind to enjoy the process. And the drive. And the time out in nature with Belinda.

But, after coming to this change of perception I started thinking of all the different ways I could change what I aim my cameras at and why I use them to photograph the things that I do. For example, my ideas about video have always veered toward the utilitarian. As in, how will I use this camera to shoot a corporate interview for profit? How will I use this particular camera and microphone to shoot video to help my client sell their service? Now that we can't do that work until (much) further notice I've had time to regard video in a new way. A less regimented way, and something more in line with the snapshot aesthetic with which I approach a lot of my personal photographic work. Something clicked for me when I got caught under a bridge in a driving thunder storm but also happened to have a Sigma fp hanging around my neck, under my rain jacket. It was the quick video clip of water gushing off the bridge that changed my point of view.

Now I bring the video enabled camera along with me on walks and actively look for little scenes, vignettes, that are visually interesting and have nice movement to them. They go into my file. Sometimes I shoot in a different codec and a different color "look" just to see what the resulting files will look like when I play them back on a bigger screen. 

I was coming home from a long walk yesterday when I looked up and saw thin, defined clouds rushing the through the very blue sky. In the past I would have taken a cursory photograph and then headed into the house. Yesterday I rushed to find a camera that does easy time lapse and spent awhile shooting time lapse sequences of the clouds (now) racing across the rich background. 

Essentially, where in the past I was trained to thing of everything in terms of a test or a job, now I am thinking about how much I'd like to see something rendered as a photograph or a video clip just for my own entertainment and/or pleasure.

I think the key to remaining happy and mentally well during these tough times is to create and execute personal projects. Having a series of projects at hand gives me much needed structure and keeps a camera in my hands. And sometimes the external restrictions can provide a very nice framework in which to toil but also just enough friction to make you push back at life a bit more. 

I'll never forget how bleak the 2008-2010 recession felt to me as we were living through it but, in retrospect, it was an amazingly fertile time for me as a writer and a photographer. In the space of three years I wrote five books about photography and lighting, and even finished a novel that had been languishing on the shelf (so to speak). Had the bottom not dropped out of the financial markets and caused so much chaos I would never have slowed down enough to take on, and then finish, so many alternative projects. Remembering this period gives me hope that I'll be able to find similar silver linings this time around. 

But responding in a positive way to chaos only works if you are willing to be flexible and (temporarily?) let go of the ways you've always done stuff in the past. If you are willing to try something new. A new approach. A new subject matter. A new way of sharing work. The more things you play with and the freer you are to disengage the "work/art" from the "commerce" the more opportunities open up to you. 

One of the true joys of both photography and video creation is that once you own a serviceable camera you can shoot and shoot and shoot without incurring any additional financial costs. As you get better and better you can dump the old stuff off your hard drive and try again. And again. And it's equally cost effective to share the work. 

I have a list of silly projects I've come up with. One which is so silly I probably should not even mention it here but....here goes: I've always wanted to buy some Adirondack chairs for the back yard of our home. The plastic ones in bright colors are cheery, comfortable and cheap. I bought three of them and they should come into stock at my local hardware store tomorrow. I'll pick them up curbside in compliance with all local regulations. And every day I plan to reconfigure them and prop them so that it looks like you've come across a grouping of chairs that were vacated only minutes ago. 

Maybe I'll arrange them in a vague circle and leave a couple of coffee mugs near them, along with a legal pad that seems well used, in one of the seats. The aftermath of a casual business meeting? Another set up might be as though you've come across the remnants of a twilight happy hour. One day all the chairs might be lined up facing the sun and have beach towels strewn over them as though you came across the chairs at a pool or resort. 

With each set up I'll document the feel of the scene. I may even print up my favorites as a show. It seems like a fun idea to me and, as I've written, I've always wanted a little collection of Adirondack chairs for the back yard. Having a little personal project to do with them just adds to the fun. 

Regardless of what project I choose having an assignment and long term subject matter to revisit gives me a sense of freedom and purpose that fleshes out an existence current fraught with constraints. 

We have the cameras and the time right now. Best to embark on something fun and personally compelling and not worry in the least about the idea that the photography or video has to be in the service of work/commerce. Staying busy doing things you like is the vital thing. 

I also find having a routine to be emotionally soothing. We've fallen into a comfortable routine here at H.Q.  most days. It consists of getting up by 8 a.m. Having coffee (me) and then doing Yoga for a while. Then a quick breakfast after which we put on our walking shoes and caps and head out for an hour long walk through the neighborhood (which has some amazing and daunting hills!). Back home I read all the news and look at the financial world's press. Then it's on to each of our personal projects. For Belinda now it's about painting the back porch and selecting paint colors for the living room. For me it's a mix of creative concepting for a law firm mixed with thinking about "Merlot" red Adirondack chairs and making time lapse videos of clouds. Late afternoon I do a longer solo walk around the lake and we meet back up for a glass of wine on a bench in the back yard (if the weather is not too hot) followed by dinner (we take turns planning and cooking). Then we each grab the latest novels we're reading and settle into our favorite chairs. The days race by and things are comfortable.

Today I have an assigned project. It's an assignment from Belinda. She is repainting all the wood on our screened in back porch. Before she starts she wants some good photographic documentation of the art on the low wall on the inside of the porch. There are seven or eight small paintings of different cowboys on the deep yellow boards. They were commissioned by the original owners of the house for their two year old son. About a year before we bought the house. Ben was two years old when we moved in and he loved those paintings, and the freedom and possession of that expansive porch as his "personal" toddler domain. 

Belinda wants a perfect documentation of each painted panel to preserve the memory of the way the porch was for Ben when he was growing up. It's a project and it's next on my agenda. 

I better get to it. 

But before I go, a note of optimism. I do believe that mankind will get a handle on the virus and one day it will be safe to travel again, frequent our favorite restaurants, and even do simple things like go into a store to try on shoes. I don't dwell on "when" but it comforts me to think that there will be light at the end of the tunnel and we will savor that time all the more having been though this.

The arduous and slightly embarrassing process of going out to get coffee. And the coffee I ended up with was lukewarm and mediocre.

In Boston with coffee. Early winter 2015.

I was in the studio yesterday thinking about giving a bunch of stuff away. I need to find a struggling, poor, young but brilliant, aspiring photographer (or more than one...) so I can give away a bunch of lights, old light stands, soft boxes and other gear that would be serviceable for them and is now more or less obsolete to me. 

In the midst of my ruminations about limited largesse I decided that I was tired of making coffee at home and, as it was nearly 3pm it was time for a coffee break --- maybe even combined with a trashy cookie full of white flour, sugar and chocolate. An antidote to having read a blog post on broccoli sprouts and their magical healing powers...

The Starbucks in our neighborhood radius closed up early on and left us with only two options; Trianon Coffee (which is my current fave) and Summer Moon Coffee (which is my coffee desperation location). 

Since Trianon is closed on Sundays my choice was quite easy. I'd been to Summer Moon Coffee a week earlier and they seem to have had their virus crisis safety procedures figured out. One could still go in and order a coffee and pay for it at the counter. You couldn't touch the condiments, you had to wear your face mask and you had to stand at least six feet away from...everybody and everything. But you could get steaming hot coffee complete with a splash of half and half. Once you picked up your cup you needed to skedaddle. No lingering allowed. 

I ventured over with thoughts of hot coffee bouncing through my head like a melody you can't dispose of. But minutes later I was standing at the front door reading the latest sign: It told me that customers were no longer allowed to enter the store. All orders had to be made online using their app. Once ordered someone in the shop would prepare the beverage and bring it out to "the pick up table" and once they re-entered the shop you would be allowed to pick up your cup and scurry away.

"Oh hell." I thought. "I guess this is the new normal and I better get used to it or risk getting sidelined from society altogether." 

It was 90 degrees outside so I sought the cool confines of my car while I grudgingly downloaded the company's coffee buying app. 

The first hurdle was with the app. I use an iPhone so my version of the app comes from the Apple app store. I double clicked the button on the right side of my phone to approve the download and Apple asked me to enter my Apple user password. I thought I remembered it correctly, even though it is long and complicated but my memory was not up to the task and after the second failed attempt I thought I'd call for help. The idea of coffee tasted so good...

I called Ben and asked him about my password. He uses my account from time to time to download music; his brain is less full and the interconnections are newer and stronger...

He rattled the 12 digit combination right off. I thanked him and completed the download and installation of the app. I went through the menu and realized, sadly, that we were now reduced to ordering only coffee and coffee drinks and no cookies appeared anywhere on the app menu. So sad. Tragic, almost. I found the large, drip coffee and selected it. I was prompted to customize so I selected half and half and hit "next." 

Then we got to the next speed bump in the coffee process; payment. The actual app isn't set up for payment. That's handled by a second app called, "Chow Now." That app will take your credit card information and allow you to finish your transaction. But there is a fee for the service of fifty cents (half a U.S. dollar). I didn't like that but by this point I was in for a pound so I continued. 

The combination of apps applauded me for my successful completion and gave me a job # to reference. For coffee. A job #. 

A few minutes later a young man came out with a mask and gloves and carefully placed my large cup of coffee on the pick up table and then rushed back into the perceived safety of the shop. I placed my index finger over the little hole on the plastic lid from which you get actual coffee to your mouth and then sprayed the entire cup, and attendant insulating sleeve, with 80% alcohol from the spray bottle I keep in the car for just such emergencies. 

Sadly, sadly, sadly, the coffee was, at best, lukewarm. And stale. Boring. Made hours ago. Unsatisfying. But, of course, once you have endured the painful and demeaning process of overpaying anonymously for mediocre coffee the idea of spending more time trying to understand the logistics of how one might remedy this tragedy seems like a waste of time and  energy. I drove back home with cool coffee and no cookie. 

I put the coffee in a mug and warmed it back up in the microwave. I pulled a Pepperidge Farm Chocolate Chip and Pecan Cookie out of the pantry. Mediocre coffee and a packaged cookie. An altogether unsatisfying experience. 

I went to Trianon today and bought another pound of Organic Ethiopian Medium roast coffee and  I'll just take my chances making coffee at home for a while. At least till my memory of the disappointing coffee experience at Summer Moon is lost to time, and my short attention span...

The take away: Always have a plan "B" when it comes to coffee acquisition. Even in times of crisis.

Now heading out to the back yard to play with the time-lapse feature of the fz2500. Fun in store for me!