Skip to main content

Northlandia Leftovers - Part 5

Here I offer a glimpse of Holly Days, a pre-Christmas parade and fun shopping in Emerald City.  I had planned to stay in the Cabin in the Woods but the Wombie and Holly (no relation to Holly Days, or maybe there is!)  twisted my arm to join them in a cocktail at Beer Bellies then watch the parade.  And so I did.  





I have to confess a cardinal error in these camera shots above and below.  Confirming my willingness to confess to stupid photographer mistakes, I thus explain why these are not properly focused.  The last shots I had taken were down at the Bay taking barge shots.  I was in Manual mode.  In these pictures I failed to put it on Auto, which I usually do for these types of pictures.  Because of my ignorance, these are blurry.  No excuse.  And yes, I did have a couple beers before I went to the parade.




Outside Emerald City about 10 miles or so near Joy is a large ranch home, pasture and Butler building, everything looks new, that is home to these draft horses.  It is called Willow Creek Belgian Farm.  These guys were pulling wagon loads of parade spectators.  Big old draft horses, burley and gnarly and full of horsepower.  Back in my G-Burg days, little Michael and I went to Farm King one cold winter day and saw a team of Percherons and I thought they were the neatest things.  The Belgian are smaller but still pretty great hulking beasts.



Comments

  1. That was a fun night.We were supporting the community one beer at a time.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Summer Swim

It's Monday and the start of another work week.  Except for me.  I have the week off because the parents of my daycare charges are taking the week off, too. This is one of those wordless posts I love on Mondays so I can put my laziness in full view of loyal readers.  These pics need no words.  Why muddy the waters?   They were taken at the pool at Sinkhole Estates aka Death Valley.  The nice thing about this pool is it is heated in winter.  If one must find positives in one's situation, I suppose that is one.  But, please, no more.   

Flashback Friday

Class, Or Lack Thereof The Dwight Vice gravestone in Oquawka, Illinois. I bring this old chestnut out every so often just to remind me that class is classless.  Dwight Vice was killed in his home near Oquawka in 2001.  It was one of those things that can generate crime:  two guys thought Dwight had a lot of money stashed at home because of his pot-selling sideline to supplement his fishing job.   Not really one of those big drug deals gone-bad things.  Marijuana was, according to the trial, about the only stuff Dwight sold.   But these two guys barge into the house and killed Dwight and attempted to kill his 11 year old kid, Darryl, before they took off with what money they could find.   His son, now 23, was stabbed in the back and left for dead.  He survived and is wheelchair bound and has undergone several surgeries to repair his wounds.  He will be paralyzed for life.   None of this is pleasant.  Reading the facts of the murder and attempted murder are most unpleasant