I’m going to love writing this series this week: it will give me a chance to iVerb all sorts of innocent byspokens in punny and personally amusing ways.
The irony of today’s title is that I rarely snap while we’re walking. Rather, I almost always find myself more calm and grounded than when I laced up the trail shoes the hour earlier. I prefer to reserve my annual snapping quota for use during customer support calls with online banking institutions when I can’t remember the postal code for a Canadian address from 14 years ago.
But I digress. This post is about shooting this photo with my iPhone while out for a walk, and how we’re going to fund our retirement by monetizing this blog.*
One of the highlights of our days is our favorite 2.5 mile walking route that’s about a five-minute drive from our place, or if the spirit, flesh, and dog are all willing, about a 45-minute hike from our house to the starting spot.
I’ve taken a Big Camera along this route many times when I’m in the mood for an “art walk,” but those experiences tend to be a pain in the patoot for anyone accompanying me who thinks that “going for a walk” means actually walking, rather than pausing to adjust for light and depth of focus every three strides. I generally leave the Nikon at home.
However, since getting seriously high-centered stuck in a fresh snow fall just over this hill last winter (“No problem, Rick! It doesn’t look that deep. Go for it!”) and having only one cell phone with 6% battery life on hand, we now both take our charged phones with us, and Rick draws his own conclusions regarding road conditions.
BTW, the most painful part was when Mike, the ungloved and bare-headed tow-truck driver with his plaid flannel shirt unbuttoned and flapping in the wind over his t-shirt, finally backed in the mile it took to reach us and hollered, “What the HELL are you doing out here? Everyone knows this road hasn’t been winter-maintained for 30 years!” He then paused, absorbing the scene of our California-plated Honda Pilot, Rick and I in our multiple layers of down-filled everything working with one small plastic shovel to dig the snow out from under the car, and a highly agitated but well-groomed 75-pound poodle puppy sporting a bright red fleece-lined vest, and concluded somberly, “You’re not from around here, huh?”
Anyhoo, that’s why my phone’s camera was available to catch the neon green offering on this overcast spring day: Car + Teton Valley Back Roads = Cell Phone
*I’ve decided to postpone disclosing our plans for raking in untold millions of dollars from this blog until tomorrow (clue: notice the copyright on the photo?) because I’m freakin’ cold in my upstairs office right now and need to go downstairs and inquire politely of Rick when he might be thinking of starting that fire in the wood stove, please?
Come back tomorrow when I’m warmer, ‘kay?