Lammas again: The Promised “Photo Essay” both is and is not!

I said yesterday that I would publish a photo essay on our Lammas event over the weekend. That our new podmate Bradley, who is a professional photographer, would upload whatever he got that evening while also eating, drinking and being merry.

However, he told me, “when I looked at the pictures, they were just so-so.” He didn’t think they were worthy of thinking of as a photo essay.

But hey, who cares? Two of them aren’t bad. And I’m sure there will be plenty more where those came from. Bradley plans to do lots of photo stories on this place.

First, here’s Bradley’s photo of the altar. Notice the little Venus de Willendorf goddess candle that Laura gave me (back right, behind the yellow flower). Podmate Brie’s legs on the left; mine on the right. Notice the chair whose seat has given up the ghost and now has lumber across it if you decide to sit there. Notice the ink stain on the tablecloth. I actually made an instinctive move to cover that up when I saw Bradley taking the picture! Laura laughed, said “remember imperfection, Ann.” Oh my goddess, had I noticed the chair I would have forbidden the picture altogether!


Here’s Aaron, who runs his Dad’s farm as a permaculturist, and whose homemade cherry wine we were drinking, with his woofer from China. Poor dear, she can only barely speak English. Rachel, one of the mothers who was visiting, said the Chinese girl had asked for water, and somebody handed her a glass of sparkling water. She went to gulp it down and sputtered in terror and surprise . . . . Rachel really felt for her, not speaking the language.

IMG_2526Here’s David, Laura’s partner, savoring the wine.

IMG_2531Michaele (who painted the walls to my room last year) and me, facing the potluck table.

IMG_2539Behind us, Gary from Terre Haute, with Rebecca.

Today, I walked out into our seating area in back and came upon this!


Bradley chalked it in, last night. And it’s true. At this point, people are out there every evening, under the sparkling lights, hanging out.


This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *