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We Need…The Amazing Acro-Cats!!!!

Last Wednesday, I was feeling stunned and dismayed by the results of the presidential election.  Aimlessly skimming a newspaper, I saw an advertisement for a show at a local theatre featuring a troupe of cats. Intrigued, I bought two tickets for Sunday night, betting that it would lift our spirits.

How can “The Amazing Acro-Cats” be described? A vaudeville act of amazing feats (or “paws”) of athleticism and artistry? An innovative and ground-breaking rock band of superstar cats and a chicken ? A train wreck? All of the above?

In essence, the show was pandemonium. The cats (with names like “Tuna” and “Ahi”), a ground hog and a chicken ( “Cluck Norris”)  performed circus tricks amid chaos. Except when they didn’t feel like it. So Lola, the star shown in the Feature Image above, refused to come down from the high platform, despite all manner of entreaty from the trainer who was standing precariously on a tilted chair. To the great amusement of the audience, Lola perched on high for almost fifteen minutes.  Other cats would do a trick, e.g. ride in a little car, balance on a ball and then, feeling naughty, would take off running wildly through the audience.

My favorite kitty is shown in the center below, playing the drums in this photo of the “Rock Cats.” He just sat there and played the drums with his tiny paws, banging away and never stopping. Cutest little performer.

Little Drummer Kitty

Little Drummer Kitty

We sat in the back of the sold-out theatre, full of every kind of young and old cat lover. I tried to capture the feeling of the evening through my photos, and snapping photos through the crowd was part of the fun. The Amazing Acro-Cats show brought happiness to a somber week.

(Make sure to click on the Gallery below to see the full photos!)



A Rainy Day

On September 13, we awoke at 4 a.m. and made our way over a skybridge from our hotel to the hospital at MD Anderson Cancer Center. There, my husband underwent a 9 hour surgery, done robotically by wonderfully skilled surgeon, to remove his cancerous bladder and reconstruct a new one.

As I sat in the waiting room, with family and many other families present for their loved ones, time warped again. Everything in our lives stood still as we awaited the conclusion of surgery and the doctor’s report. Finally, my husband was out of surgery and in the recovery room. His surgeon told us the surgery went fast and well. And because my husband’s cancer was superficial and noninvasive (at surgery), the surgery offered a cure and a long life.

As I write this, my husband is recovering well and we remain in the Houston area for follow-up doctor visits. Less than two weeks after surgery, he feels energetic and is walking over a mile a day. Time still runs slowly as we wind through the healing process and patiently wait to go home.

View from My Window at Rotary House, MD Anderson

View from My Window at Rotary House, MD Anderson

Street Scenes, Fannin Street, Houston

Michael is a homeless man who hangs out near the train stops on Fannin Street. I spent some time talking to him, and learned that in his past, he took a photography course. He spoke articulately about technical aspects of photography and cameras. He no longer has teeth and did not want to be photographed with an open smile. I wondered about his past,  what his life might have been and where it is going. michael-on-fannin-street

Fannin Street, Houston “The Smokin’ Woman”


Waiting for the Fannin St. train




Finished but chaos and frustration at the ticket booth

While my husband recuperated at MD Anderson hospital, I walked around the nearby streets and train stops. This woman seriously enjoyed her cigarette while the ladies behind her grew frustrated over the Metro ticket machine. The exhale starts with Photo #1, goes big in Photo #2 and completes in #3.

Midnight Voyageur Journal: 4th of July Parade


July 4, 2016

In the early morning of the 4th of July, I hauled my camera and running shoes to a rural community named Mineral Point, about an hour’s drive west of where I live.  Mineral Point offered a day of festivities for the celebration of Independence Day. Events started with a “fun run” up and down the hills of the city, followed by a parade through the historic downtown, and then afternoon soft-ball games. Finally, to conclude the day,  a “steak feed” was held to make sure no one went home hungry. While I took no selfies during the fun run, I photographed the parade and the community to capture the feel of the day.

Mineral Point is one of the oldest cities in Wisconsin, settled in 1827 by Cornish immigrants who mined the  lead and zinc in the hills along Brewery Creek. The historic cream-colored sand stone buildings in the town center attest to the city’s prosperous past.  Today, however, this city is not much more than a village, with about 2500 residents. For the 4th of July, many more people from surrounding communities joined these residents, filling the city streets and parks.

Mineral Point’s main street is only a few blocks long so space on the curb for parade watching came at a premium. By mid-morning, people had started to stake out their space by parking camp chairs (often occupied by the grandparents,) together with coolers.  By late morning, when the parade started, thousands of people lined the street, all in a festive mood. Rain threaten to spoil the day but fortunately, it just remained overcast.

When I think of parades, fancy floats and extravagent costumed revelers come to mind. But Mineral Point’s parade had no floats and presented nothing fanciful or pretty. But it offered marching bands, patriotic displays of the flag, clowns and many Knights of Columbus and Legionnaires marching with guns. And fire trucks and ambulances from all the surrounding towns. The crowd watching loved it all and had great fun.

In my photography, I noticed and tried to capture the seriousness and intensity of the participants as they march along, contrasted with the jubilance of the observers.



Howard’s New Orleans family on his mother’s side has gone to Galatoire’s Restaurant for generations. His great great uncle walked there daily from his store on Canal Street for lunch. Apparently he ordered the same salad every time, and Galatoire’s named it on the menu as the “Godchaux salad.” Keeping the tradition, our family spent an epic evening eating and drinking and hanging out there together for hours. Three of us wore hats to dinner and you can see them hanging on the pegs above the diners. The morning after, when I awoke, I was struck by the sunlight streaming through our Antonine Street place.

The Featured Image shows the hands of a busker doing a street performance in the French Quarter (and Blue Dog.)