Army adventures: part 1

Years ago when hubs bought his first Landrover, he got an invitation for a one-day-off-the-road-driving-course. He came back with lots of great stories, about being able to touch the grass through the open window when the car was parked sideways on a steep slope, driving through water, driving up steep hills and off them again. He did have a great day.

Then I bought my Landrover, Bob, and I too got an invitation for such a course. Since I knew it would be a great day, not to be missed, I called a friend and asked if she wanted to join me on a fun day out. And so we went into the woods to learn how to drive up a slope. Landrover have a special truck, that unfolds into what looks like a Canadian wooden lodge, and acts as a bar/restaurant. They also employ some good looking rugged men to teach you how to drive through the wilderness in cars owned by Landrover, so your own car will not get dirty and/or dented. Friend and I had a great day. And indeed, we touched grass through the open window of a Range Rover while parked sideways on an extremely steep slope. All very exciting. What made it even more exciting, friend needs glasses to drive a car and see where she’s going, but because of the handsome Landrover guys she didn’t want to spoil her good looks by hiding them behind those glasses, which meant that half of the time she was driving the car in braille-mode. Not a clue where she was going. Sometimes the driving-instructor would scream things like: “What the…!?! Where are you… ?!?”, but she kept her cool and didn’t mention her blindness. And I was just trying not to wet my pants from the combination of fear and laughter.

Of course, with the Netherlands being asphalted over almost entirely, after that one day I’ve never driven a car through any wilderness, apart from our garden, again.

But, last Sunday we had the opportunity to join a whole bunch of 4x4 car enthusiasts and drive our Bob through army-training terrain. Where usually tanks and soldiers play war, we could freely drive up and down especially constructed hills and through water, without the risk of being shot at.

And we loved it. We did start very carefully, saying that we wanted to keep Bob clean, but secretly just not having a clue how to keep Bob alive in the more challenging parts of the terrain. These guys do this more often…

And as always ‘bachelor's wives and maiden's children are well trained’ or as we say in the Netherlands: ‘de beste stuurlui staan aan wal’ (the best helmsmen are on shore).

The fanclub:

We declined an offer of one of the guys there to drive Bob for us through this mud pit, because I’d just heard him jokingly say that he’d already lost 4 cars in this pool. So, with Bob still clean and alive, we drove further into the woods, looking for two hills known by the army as ‘Vanessa’ (after a Dutch ‘singer’ who has two strong points and singing isn’t one of them).
Since I was navigating, it didn’t take us long to find Vanessa. It could have taken even less time, but hubs has a mind of his own and didn’t always follow my instructions *sigh*.

Vanessa was very popular:

(not hubs and not Bob either)

This looked like fun and also doable, so hubs drove Bob up a smaller hill and through this ditch a couple of times and then I got into the car too to take some shots while we were driving up…

…and down…

This is Bob:

This is one of my favourite photos. Aww…   

And then we saw a couple of guys we know from the Landrover dealer and also a friend of us, and from then on everything went pretty much downhill for Bob’s cleanliness.

To be continued…

Sunday Selections #59 : The tulips and cat edition

It’s Sunday again. Time for the Sunday Selections, hosted by Kim from Frogpondsrock. They do, you know.
Anyway, if you have tons of photos hanging around in your computer somewhere, waiting for a reason to be shown to the blogging world, hop over to the rocking frog ponds and follow the almost non-existent rules for joining in.

This Sunday I thought I’d get into Spring-mood and show you some colourful tulips. One of our cats, Snoesje is hiding behind the tulips, while guarding the newspaper.

Nothing special, just nice and cheerful.

When I buy tulips, I buy lots of bunches in different colours and mix them up. And if the colours clash, so be it. I like it that way. Makes me smile.

All I need to know in life I learned from my horses

 

The Lazy Bunch (Willem, Evie, Naloma)

 

I’ve stolen these words from Grey Horse Matters’ blog.

All I need to know in life I learned from my horses - Vol. 1

1. When in doubt, run far, far away.
2. You can never have too many treats.
3. Passing gas in public is nothing to be ashamed of.
4. New shoes are an absolute necessity every 6 weeks.
5. Ignore cues; they're just another prompt to do more work.
6. Everyone loves a good, wet, slobbery kiss.
7. Never run when you can trot.
8. Never trot when you can walk.
9. And never walk when you can stand still.
10. Heaven is eating at least 10 hours a day...and then sleeping the rest.

 

All I need to know in life I learned from my horses - Vol. 2

1. Eat plenty of roughage.
2. Great legs and a nice rear will get you anywhere in life. Big, brown eyes help too.
3. When you want your way, stomp hard on the nearest foot.
4. In times of crises, take a poop.
5. Act dumb when faced with a task you don't want to do.
6. Follow the herd, that way you can't be singled out to take the blame.
7. A swift kick in the butt will get anyone's attention.
8. Love those who love you back, especially if they have something good to eat.
9. Leather and chains can make anyone look studly.
10. Happiness is a warm, fuzzy blanket and someone to share it with.

Fridge

Karen who lives in a beautiful house somewhere in the USA and has a wonderful blog called This Old House 2, posted a photo of the contents of her fridge and dared her avid followers to send her a photo of their fridges too. Well, I decided to take it one step further. I have no shame. For you, my dear loyal readers, I’m posting a photo of my fridge too.

I’m quite anal about my fridge. Not about its cleanliness though. It’s clean, but that’s not what my analiness (new word) is about. No, it’s worse.

I want everything in a straight line. Not the fridge itself obviously, judging by the photo below, but everything inside it. Obsessive compulsive? Moi? 

Milk cartons need to be in a straight line. Water bottles, all neatly lined up. Yoghurt cartons… you’ve guessed it. And even if there’s only one, like now, it has to be straight. Just between you and me, I’d love to take out a ruler and space everything out at equal distances. But self-restraint and all that prevents me from doing so.

Then there are the juice cartons. Yes. I know, it is sad, but they need to be next to each other like that. If hubs has the nerve to put one of them upside down, I might have to kill him. Again.
On top of the juice are two pre-baked pizzas with tomato sauce only that are waiting patiently until it is their time to get out of the cold and go into the oven. I’m going to top them with baked mushrooms, black olives, thinly sliced red onions, oregano and mozzarella. And then in the oven. Yum.
Next to that, just visible is a bottle of Vermouth.

Next shelf: fresh mushrooms, three varieties. A small black box with vegetarian stuff that for some reason tastes like chicken and is very good in stir fries and also a box of blueberries. To add to the Greek yoghurt and make us believe we’re eating healthy. Next to that the cheese box with some smoked cheese on top of it. Cat food and behind that a jar of roasted red peppers.

Two white boxes filled with cakes, because it is hubs’ birthday tomorrow. A tub of Greek yoghurt (delicious, but too many calories). Blueberries to the rescue. Behind the Greek yoghurt are two cartons with small tubs of yoghurt/fruit and all kinds of healthy bowel bacteria added.
Then a drawer filled with mozzarella, feta, small tub of cottage cheese and some butter.

The vegetable drawer: lettuce, fennel, peppers, carrots, beans and below that a drawer filled with different kinds of onions. I don’t keep the zucchinis and egg-plant (aubergines) for the planned lasagne in the fridge, so they are in a bowl on the kitchen worktop somewhere.

In the door, top to bottom: eggs, produced by our own chickens of course. Soy sauce, whipped cream, butter for frying things in.
Sambal (small jar of very hot Indonesian stuff), black olives, capers, Zaanse mayonnaise, small bottle Heinz ketchup, two different mustards.

Cream (I’m going to make a potato/carrot/courgette gratin with cream), crème fraiche (for a spinach quiche) and milk for people who drink their coffee in the totally wrong way.

A bottle of Limoncello, a present from friends who’ve been to Italy, a bottle of sweet dessert wine, orange juice, apple juice.

And last but not least, black currant sodas (cassis).

Reasonably healthy, I’d say. But above all: straight lines equals happy smile.

Sunday Selections #58: The lousy shots of birds edition

I’ve been trying to shoot birds lately. With my camera mind you, not with a shotgun. Anyway, difficult thing to do. I often hear them, but don’t see them. And just before I do see them, they see me and fly off. Occasionally I manage to get a decent photo and sometimes I post them in my ‘normal’ posts, but more often I get lousy shots that I find difficult to delete, because they are the only shots of that particular bird I have. Apart from the robin. I have loads of robin-photos. He follows me around the garden, trying to get into the picture.

The not so good shots are therefore pointlessly hanging around in my computer, until it’s Sunday. Yay! Sunday Selections time. Hosted by the lovely Kim from Frogpondsrock. If you, like I, have folders full of photos waiting to be seen, hop over to the rocking frog ponds, follow the almost non-existent rules and join in.

I can see two birds in this shot. A male ‘merel’ (in Dutch) or blackbird and a ‘koperwiek’ or redwing.

 

A ‘koolmees’ or great tit. Strange name.

 

The robin managed to get his photo taken. Again.

 

This is a ‘winterkoninkje’ or wren (I think. I’m sure it’s a winterkoninkje, but not sure of its English name). It is one of the smallest birds in Europe, about 10 centimetres long. His tail always points upwards. It’s a quick mover and builds its nests near the ground in hedges or shrubs. Somewhere dense enough to get some shelter and feel safe.

This is more of a close up, but he just wouldn’t sit still *sigh*. Still, I’m very happy that I did get a shot of him/her. I will persist and do my best to get a terrific photo of a ‘winterkoninkje’ one day. We’ll have cake that day.

Oh, and look who I’ve spotted in the garden, checking out trees to build a home in perhaps? Or more likely, looking for food. I suspect he’ll rather have a dead birch, there are plenty of them around, to make his nest in.

Yep, it is a ‘grote bonte specht’ or woodpecker. Perhaps it is the same one I photographed with his family last year? Who knows.

Girl on bicycle

Sorry, my mistake. Meant to publish a photo post on my photoblog and accidentally put it here. If you want to see it, you’ll have to go over to my photoblog (look at earlier posts if you’re there. There are some lovely photos, even if I say so myself).

The adventures of Stupid Woman

Last Saturday I had arranged with a friend to go to Groningen to do some really girly shopping. You know: buy clothes, try every perfume in the store, have lunch, giggle a lot, jog past chocolate selling shops, high fiving if we succeeded in doing that, those sort of things.

She lives in FarFarAwayLand (not that far away though, about half an hour in the car) and the plan was that she’d drive to our house and then I’d drive us into town with, and now you’re going to frown and think: “what a snob”, one of our cars. But I mention our assorted choice of cars for a reason.

You see, we have a Landrover Defender. Great car, joy to drive (if you like the occasional near-heart attack from loud bangs caused by stones that shoot out of the tires and bang against the wheel house, and enjoy feeling every bump in the road going from butt through spine to head), but it doesn’t fit particularly well in the average parking garage. Either the ceiling of the parking garage is too low, or Bob is too high.
So, as much as I like Bob, he’s not for going into town with.

Then there’s Gretl, our Range Rover. Incredibly comfortable, quite chic (if you ignore the fact that I often use it to get huge bags of carrots and other big bags of horse feed which inevitably leave a trail of… well, carrots and horse feed on the cream coloured carpet) and a great car for going shopping with. It can hold tons of bags, but it is wide and long and not a joy to drive around in in a crowded parking garage, looking for a space to squeeze the beast into.

Oh, and if you’re wondering why she’s called Gretl; there are two language options in her inbuilt GPS. German or English. We’ve tried English for a while, but she assumes that your driving on the wrong side of the road then and it became very confusing at times, so we changed to German and now we’re brushing up on German ‘verkehrsbezogene Begriffe’. Oder so etwas.

Anyway, the car of choice was therefore our smaller car. It’s a hard top convertible. Fast, good-looking and more importantly, it easily fits in a parking garage. This car is nice to drive in in the summer, with the top open (it does this incredibly neat magic trick in which it lets its roof disappear in the boot. That is almost the best part of this car, the roof/no roof magic trick. It never fails to amaze me.) and nice to drive in the winter, with the top closed.

 

The only problem was that we hadn’t driven it for a week or so, and as you know it was freezing cold here in the Netherlands and we don’t have a garage so it had been outside in the cold and the door on the passenger’s side was frozen shut.
Fortunately I had expected that that might be the case, so about an hour before friend was supposed to arrive here I put on a coat and thick, warm gloves and went outside to clear the windscreen and the other windows of ice, tried the doors, discovered that the one on the passenger’s side didn’t open and phoned hubs’ mobile (he was mucking the stables) with my mobile (I didn’t feel like walking to the stables to tell him) that I was going for a drive to see if the door-in-ice would thaw. It was either that or rolling out a couple of patch cables and attack the door with my hair/blow dryer. I chose the driving around option.

So there I went. It still was bitterly cold outside, but I was comfortably warm in my winter coat with the nice, thick gloves protecting my hands from the arctic temperatures. So I drove through a neighbouring village where another friend lives, waved as I passed their house and took a scenic route back home again. Meanwhile the car was warming up nicely. Heated seat doing its job to keep the posterior at a nice temperature, windows ice free inside and outside. I had good hope that the other door would be freed from the layer of ice that kept it firmly shut.

I parked the car in front of the house. And when I wanted to get out, I couldn’t open my door! I mean, w h a t ? Had ‘my’ door somehow been frozen shut too while I was driving around? But could that be possible? I tried again. No. Didn’t open. I tried the door on the passenger’s side. No. Didn’t open either. What in the name of Elvis caused these doors to stay closed? I pressed the distant control a couple of times to close and open the locks, but that didn’t help. Both doors stayed shut. I was baffled. And puzzled. Dumbfounded even.

And then I remembered that I had my mobile with me.
So I phoned hubs. “Yes?”
”Hi.”
”Hi?”
”I have a tiny problem.”
”Oh?”
”I can’t get out of the car.”
”You can’t get out of the car.”
”No.”
”Oh.”
”So…”
”Why can you not get out of the car?”
”The door won’t open.”
”Oh?”
”Hmm.”
”Where are you?”
”In our drive.”
*sigh* “Okay, I’m coming.”
”Don’t sigh.”
”I didn’t sigh.”
”I definitely heard… okay.”

He apparently wasn’t in a hurry to free me from my car-prison, because it took ages before he appeared. He had a vicious smile on his face I thought.
He opened the door from the outside.
”What do you mean, I can’t get out of the car.”
”No really. I couldn’t open the door from the inside.”
I got out of the car and he got in.
I closed the door, thinking that it would be really funny if he would be locked inside now.
But no, of course he wasn’t, because he knew that there is a tiny switch just in front of the door handle on the inside of the car, that locks or unlocks it independently from the distant control. Why? I don’t know why it has that switch. I never even knew of its existence. And I had unintentionally pressed it into the ‘lock’ setting when I tried to open the door with my hands comfortably nestled in my very thick gloves.

You learn something every day.

And the short drive had indeed unfrozen the other door, so when friend arrived we could both get in (and out) of our pretty little convertible with the not idiot proof lock/unlock switch.

Gawd.

Hubs thought it was all incredibly funny.
I don’t get his sense of humour.
It is totally wrong!

Picturesque pictures

Yesterday hubs and I went to Groningen city to try and shoot some photos of people ice skating on the canals. The all-knowing weather people had forecasted that thaw would set in later that day (they were right for once), so it was probably the last chance to catch some of the special atmosphere of those wintery days  on camera.
Just last summer we went with friends on their boat through this same canal. The weather then couldn’t have been more different compared to the weather yesterday. As soon as we parked the car it started snowing. I wrapped my camera in plastic and we walked to the A-bridge to take some shots of the people on the ice, the boats in the ice and the beautiful houses along the canal.

Funnily enough there weren’t only people on skates on the ice, but also people simply walking. It’s not like this is a short-cut to somewhere. At least I don’t think so. But perhaps they just wanted to see Groningen from the canals and have no friends who own a boat (like us, the smart ones who choose their friends more carefully.)
Doesn’t it look picturesque? Just like in ‘the olden days’, when winters still were winters and they could have an Elfstedentocht. We won’t mention the Elfstedentocht again. It is a sensitive subject… *sigh*


So Junior can see that winters really were winters when he was just a baby and this was the year that we nearly had an Elfste…. You know.


You have to take off your shoes and put on your skates somewhere.


This poor little boy had a sled, but no one to pull (him).
Aww…
We then decided to take a longer route back to the car, to shoot some more photos of Groningen. The town was very quiet, even for a Sunday. I wonder why…






Pretty little street.

Very thoughtful of the girl to have the colour of her hair and Uggs coordinated with the building.

I love it when people work with me and think about what they are going to wear and where they will be when I take a photo of them. This guy did a good job!

Sunday Selections #57: The random selection

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sunday Selections is hosted by Kim from Frogpondsrock and is the place to post those photos that have been hanging around for far too long in folders on your computer. If you have poor, unseen photos lurking somewhere in the depths of your computer, join in and hop over to the rocking frog ponds to follow the almost non-existent rules.

This week I thought I’d give you an impression of last week’s weather. Blue skies, sun, snow and freezing. Quite nice actually.
Yesterday I went shopping with a friend in Groningen and people were ice skating on the canals. It looked so picturesque. But of course I didn’t have a camera with me. Perhaps I’ll go back to Groningen today to take some photos. Apparently today is the last day people can skate, because thaw will set in later this afternoon. We’ll see what the day will bring.

And again, it won’t happen

Well, that was that then. There’s no hope anymore. And we were all so looking forward to it. It united the nation. Hundreds of people volunteered to try and make it possible, but since yesterday evening we all know better. It won’t happen. The Elfstedentocht won’t go on.

If it wasn’t so disappointing, it would be funny. Earlier this week I posted about people suffering from the Eleven Cities Tour Fever after only one night of frost. Television programs were dedicated to the 200 kilometres (124.2 miles) long ice skating tour on natural ice, past 11 cities in Friesland, the Netherlands. From Leeuwarden back to Leeuwarden again.
If you turned on the radio it was topic of conversation.
It was the first thing we, often jokingly, asked each other: “And, already in training?”, and instantly the other person would know what they were supposed to be in training for.

Even I had a mild case of the fever. A telephone conversation between me and a friend, earlier this week:

Me: “Already in training?”
He: “Hmm, not really. You know, I’m more of a long distance ice skater.”
Me: “You mean, the 200 kilometres isn’t long enough for you?”
He: “Not much of a challenge.”
Me: “And besides, it’s only one round.”
He: “Oh, but I usually do more rounds. One round isn’t really… just when you found your skating rhythm, you’re already at the finish line.”
Me: “Hmm, that’s true.”
He: “And I always ‘kluun’ from Groningen to Leeuwarden too, to warm up the muscles.”
Me: “Sure you do.”

Anyway, there were people more serious about the Elfstedentocht. Professional skaters, looking forward to this once in a lifetime skating event, were in tears last night when the news broke at a press conference.

The last Elfstedentocht was in 1997 and before that the ice only was safe enough in 1985 and 1986. This year it looked like the ice could be thick enough (minimum of 15 centimetres) to hold the expected 16,000 skaters, but unfortunately a large part of the ice was covered in snow. Snow works as an insulation and it prevents the ice from ‘growing’. So the snow had to be removed. The ice wasn’t thick enough yet to allow snow shovelling machines on the ice, so it had to be done by hand. Entire villages went on ‘their’ stretch of ice to shovel the snow to the sides. Schools volunteered their pupils for shovelling. And people from all over the country went to Friesland to do their part. The army sent 50 soldiers, who just had returned from polar training, to shovel snow. I’ve always wondered why soldiers need polar training, since most wars are fought in hotter (in more than one sense) parts of the world. But now it makes sense.

It really did unite the nation.

But the weather isn’t doing its part. It’s not freezing hard enough anymore. Temperatures are still below zero, but it isn’t cold enough to make the ice ‘grow’. So… yesterday evening the news came that it couldn’t go through. Not that a date was set yet. But we all lived in hope that it could perhaps take place this Saturday or perhaps Sunday.

If you watch the video (follow this link) you will understand the atmosphere of the whole event. It truly is magnificent. After about a minute, you’ll see the competition skaters start. All skaters have to run to the Bonkevaart (the canal where the starting point is), put on their skates and then skate the entire route, collecting a stamp in every city they skate through. Because of the amount of people who skate the Elfstedentocht, they start very early in the morning, when it is still dark (so the first hour or so they can’t even see where they are skating). First the competitive skaters start and after that the tour skaters start in groups. The later they start, the later they will arrive back in Leeuwarden, so many of them will arrive in the dark. They are only allowed to pass the finish line until precisely 12 o’clock at night. When you’re late, you won’t get a medal to prove that you’ve done the tour. Life is hard. Now I know that lots of tour skaters take breaks in bars along the route, so it’s a wonder they do even finish at all, but still it is incredibly sad when you’ve braved the cold, skated 200 kilometres, avoided freezing to death or breaking limbs, and then you arrive at the finish at 10 seconds past 12. Bad luck! Better luck next time. If there is a next time that is.

The video also shows what ‘klunen’ is. It’s rather funny to watch.

And you’ll see our Queen at the finish line of the competition to greet the winner. Even our crown prince skated the tour once. I believe it was in 1997. Brave boy.

Ah well, who knows, maybe next year we’ll have another Elfstedentocht. Or perhaps even this year. If temperatures get as low as –15 Celsius again. Don’t burn your skates yet! There’s always hope.

Klunen: in places where the ice is too unsafe to skate on, skaters have to get off the ice and stagger on their skates to a place where they can get on the ice again and continue the tour.

I tawt I taw a biwdy

 

When shooting this little birdy (probably the same one as in my previous post) I didn’t have to balance on one leg, while closing a gate at the same time as taking the photo. Life is much simpler when you just do one thing at a time. Really. I should try it more often.

 

Every time I bring a wheelbarrow full of horse manure to our muck heap, I see this little guy (or girl) sitting on top of the heap.

Our muck heap functions as a cheep cheap delicatessen shop, providing lots of yummy little insects and worms and it has a very diverse clientele. Robins aren’t as shy as a lot of the other customers, giving me a perfect opportunity to practice photography without having to do my famous, but very unsuccessful tree imitation to try and blend into the background.
The robin doesn’t care that I really don’t look like a tree and that one of my branches makes strange whirring and whizzing noises.

He, on the other hand, kept a sharp eye on me.

WHAT?

Hubs’ hearing isn’t what it used to be. Although he keeps insisting that his ears are in perfect working order and that my voice is just too soft and I don’t speak loud and clearly enough. Well, other people have no problems hearing what I’m saying, but hey… I’m not going to argue.

So, when we came back from shopping and he parked the car on the driveway and I went to get the mail and found a leaflet that said in big letters ‘INVITATION FOR A FREE HEARING TEST!’, I did a cruel thing.

He was collecting stuff from the car and while he had his head buried in the trunk, I said, not particularly looking in his direction: “Hey, you’ve got an invitation for a free hearing test”.
I knew he wouldn’t hear me correctly.

His head appeared again (it sounds like it was detached from his body, but I assure you, it was still firmly attached) and he said: “What? What about earrings?”

I gestured ‘look at me’ and with exaggerated articulation said: “here, read this”, and held the leaflet up before his eyes. ‘INVITATION FOR A FREE HEARING TEST!’, the leaflet screamed at him.
“Huh?”, he said. “But I don’t need…”

Unfortunately I then burst out in laughter and spoiled the whole cunning plan by owning up that I had deliberately waited until I just knew he couldn’t hear what I said.

Now he’s still convinced that his ears are doing a perfect job.

Ah well…

I’ll just have to keep whispering in the other direction.

And no, the robin has nothing to do with this story. But I thought it was a nice photo.
Certainly if you take into consideration that I was holding the camera in one hand, while closing a gate with the other hand, with which hand I had to adjust the focus too and, for reasons too difficult to explain, I could only do that while balancing on one leg. On second thoughts: it’s not a nice photo. It’s a brilliant photo!

Sunday Selections: The doorknocker edition

First I wanted to call this post ‘Big Knockers’, but then I thought it would probably attract the wrong crowd and I hate to disappoint people.

These doorknockers were on different doors in the same street in a small village called Garnwerd, in the province Groningen, here in the Netherlands. I took these shots in July 2010, when I went on a ‘photohunt’ with two of my friends. We had all just finished a photography course for idiots absolute beginners and wanted to practice what we had learned. Of course I practiced all kinds of different settings on my camera and we compared shots during our walk through the village. Their shots often were much better than mine: nicer colours, better contrast, good lighting. At the end of our ‘hunt’, while enjoying a coffee with apple pie on the terrace of the local cafe, it turned out that they had only taken photographs with their cameras in the idiot-proof automatic setting. Which slightly pissed me off, because that wasn’t the point of our little trip, but it explained why their photos were better than mine. I had hoped that we could have interesting discussions about photography and learn from each other, but they gave up right after we’d finished that first course.

Anyway, I do like these doorknocker-shots.

Sunday Selections is hosted by Kim from Frogpondsrock and is the place to post those photos that have been hanging around for far too long in folders on your computer. If you have poor, unseen photos lurking somewhere in the depths of your computer, join in and hop over to the rocking frog ponds to follow the almost non-existent rules.