Today's theme is the tricky and slightly vague theme of Ordinary Matters. My life is very ordinary, so you'd think this would be straightforward.

I took a few pictures of cups of tea, debris all over the floor after the goblins dinner time and even the baby terrorising our guinea pigs.

None of them seemed quite interesting enough, or in the case of the guinea pigs, ordinary enough.

But then I spotted this little chap building a dam. I figured it was an extremely ordinary matter to him.

This is an entry for the 'Mega-Extreme' 30 Days of Photographs, hosted by Michael and Ziva. Click on the image to view a larger version. You can view all photos from the series Here.The participants are myself, 00dozo, Bryan, aka Unfinished Person, Cheryl, Elizabeth A., John, a.k.a. nonamedufus, Katherine, Kristen, LaughingMom, Malisa, Mariann, Meleah, Michael, Nicky and Mike, Nora, Pam, Tanya, Ziva.

Comments

An ordinary beaver. Is there such a thing?

Are you saying that my beaver isn't ordinary?

Never. After all you're so transfixed by it you take pictures of it every day for 30 days.

sixteen days mate, sixteen days

That beaver is such a cutie, going about his life, oblivious to the crazy human following him around, snapping photos of him all the time..

I love the photo, the water looks great in the background with the light reflecting off it, and as always, the focus is just right.

I do wonder what happened to his jacket, but presumably he likes to work naked.

Well, he has risen from the dead. I think he can wear whatever he wants. :)

Ah yes. What could be more ordinary than a beaver building a dam! Good job!

Wait, are you actually saying that I have, convincingly, captures something ordinary?

This is my favorite of yours so far, Mo. It tells a story, for one thing, and it's very nicely lit and composed. Again, it makes me want to see some real photos. Not that this isn't real, but you understand what I mean.

Cheers Mike, I promise I'll put up some "real" photos when this challenge finishes. You know what I mean...In all seriousness, I haven't taken a "real" photo, other than a billion shots of my kids, for literally two years, it's nice to be doing it again :)

Yes, it may seem like just an ordinary dam, but really! He's a naked undead time-travelling extraterrestrial beaver. How ordinary could it be?

He's undead and time-travelling? I wasn't aware. If I was, I'd have taken another photo.

I agree with BonyMike. This is one of my favourite shots, too. If it will help you free up more time for your future photography at all, I can "take care of" that pesky beaver problem of yours. I have a blender that is in need of repairs and his assistance would be welcome.

;-)

As long as you mix it with vodka, or lime juice, or turn it into a fine chilli sauce, I'm not bothered.

I really like today's shot and must ask (seriously) if you have thought about creating a children's picture book with this little guy?

No I haven't. And (to be honest, given the lack of time I tend to have these days) I still haven't, BUT my daughter (3 years) is the owner of the beaver and I've shown her these, she loves them :)

I will say that your beaver is quite photogenic.

Is it the strong lines of his jaw that do it?

This picture made me laugh harder than any other.

I must say Kirsten's comment is what made me laugh.

But why? He's just innocently building a dam.

This makes it official.

You are a lunatic. (I kinda like that about you.)

You did such a great job with this shot, that little dude looks like he's actually building a dam.

"The madman is not the man who has lost his reason. He is the man who has lost everything except his reason." (Chesterton)

He appears to be building his dam out of hollow logs which would, of course, result in not only an extremely inefficient dam but also something quite out of the ordinary. Back to the guinea pigs and this time, get it right.

Actually, I think what you are seeing there is the loft-room of his dam, and he wanted a bit of natural light.

Ah yes, and it would be well insulated as well. Crafty beaver that one.

Dam beaver! I will say one thing...he has been a busy little beaver!

Thinking about it, 17 days in, he has indeed :)

Hopefully he doesn't go "Full Metal Pippa" on you!

Yeah I was worried about that, I have to admit.

Just another ordinary day on the river. Great perspective :)

Cheers pal

I especially love this because we hike a lot around lakes and see beaver trees all the time... love this!

I wonder if you've seen this beaver. It woudln't surprise me, I see him everywhere.

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Ordinary Matters

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  • PDOException: SQLSTATE[22001]: String data, right truncated: 1406 Data too long for column 'title' at row 1: INSERT INTO {aggregator_item} (title, link, author, description, guid, timestamp, fid) VALUES (:db_insert_placeholder_0, :db_insert_placeholder_1, :db_insert_placeholder_2, :db_insert_placeholder_3, :db_insert_placeholder_4, :db_insert_placeholder_5, :db_insert_placeholder_6); Array ( [:db_insert_placeholder_0] => In Which, Not Having Posted For A While, Our Hero Grabs Whatever Odd Crap He Can Off Of His Phone And Adds Some Words In The Vague Hope That Something Profound Or At Least Moderately Entertaining Will Emerge, As Will The Inspiration For A Pithy And Succinct Title To Encapsulate it. [:db_insert_placeholder_1] => http://gravelfarm.blogspot.com/2012/07/in-which-not-having-posted-for-while.html [:db_insert_placeholder_2] => [:db_insert_placeholder_3] => <br /><div style="color: black;">My 2 year-old daughter, Bonobo, enjoys colouring in.</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">Well, I say colouring in, but really it's scrawling random marks across any flat surface with anything that might feasibly make a mark. Crayon, ink, paint, snot, poo, blood, you name it, she seems to be able to incorporate it into her art, and will brook no criticisms,&nbsp;constructive&nbsp;or otherwise, about whether it is "good" or "insightful" or "talented" or "naughty".&nbsp; Just this morning, I found her outside making a delightful print on the patio with the juice from a disgruntled snail.</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="color: black; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dkwNRpAx8VI/T_wNLDIiGYI/AAAAAAAABCU/-W1n9rbbJqM/s1600/banksy+wall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dkwNRpAx8VI/T_wNLDIiGYI/AAAAAAAABCU/-W1n9rbbJqM/s320/banksy+wall.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dear Jebus let that be chocolate spread.</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">She's like Gilbert &amp; George only, you know, she occasionally does stuff I like.</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">Obviously, I want to encourage the artistic&nbsp;aspects of her character, but preferably whilst discouraging the&nbsp;accompanying&nbsp;random acts of vandalism to the sofa or fridge door. This involves the purchase of vast reams of paper and imperial gallons of colouring books for her to <s>waste</s>&nbsp;utilise.</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">I don't normally bother looking at them, other than giving the occasional finished piece a quick glance, saying "well done Sweetheart, I shall treasure it forever" before placing it carefully out of view in the recycling box, but I did flick through this cheap one she got as a gift in a party bag:</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; color: black;"></div><div style="color: black;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="color: black; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XuI7ztZplfU/T_S59DE1dwI/AAAAAAAABBM/G_xOtKOw458/s1600/cullrin+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XuI7ztZplfU/T_S59DE1dwI/AAAAAAAABBM/G_xOtKOw458/s320/cullrin+3.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This will end in tears. </td></tr></tbody></table><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">It's pretty standard fare, really. A selection of motifs and tableaux of no particular ilk or order, ready for children to completely not keep within the lines on. It got me wondering how much thought and endeavour go into the creation of such tomes.</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">They're basically doodles, which are then printed out in book form and sold. A starving artist whacks out a toad underneath a toadstool whilst some sort of large insect, possibly of the order Odonata wearing a bowler hat, sits on top trying to remember where it lost it's other pair of legs:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; text-align: center;"></div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="color: black; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hpUH3tXyuPc/T_S75KnQeFI/AAAAAAAABB0/ptHfBJM7_Rk/s1600/cullrin+1a.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hpUH3tXyuPc/T_S75KnQeFI/AAAAAAAABB0/ptHfBJM7_Rk/s400/cullrin+1a.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smuggest toad in Amphibiville.</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">Opposite, a fairy shows an old sock to a deer with oddly long front legs, perhaps hoping the fawn will be able to track the owner, lost in the woods these past forty-eight hours and causing concern as temperatures are dropping, what with the sun playing hide and seek behind the cloud there. </div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">Sticking with the toadstool theme, the next page had turned the whole concept on it's head by having the toad <i>on top</i> of the fungus, literally as a stool for the toad. Madness. It appears to be being addressed by a bizarre anthropomorphic rodent which sends chills through my spine in a way that Mickey never did:</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="color: black; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WvRoUwsKImo/T_S6O67sWOI/AAAAAAAABBU/TCp-728ntG4/s1600/cullrin+4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WvRoUwsKImo/T_S6O67sWOI/AAAAAAAABBU/TCp-728ntG4/s320/cullrin+4.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Go on, let me lick you."</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">The chameleon on the opposing page was relatively lifelike, if one discounts the expression on it's face which suggests it has narrowly missed being caught doing something both immoral and illegal. Presumably with it's tongue.</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">After expending vast amounts of efforts on the previous mouse, not only giving it a face but a set of clothes as well, the artist then runs out of time and, almost certainly, inclination for the next mouse-based piece. Here, they are sadly two-dimensional and lacking even a rudimentary&nbsp;mandible, sailing forlornly in some sort of leaf-boat 'neath a bright, croissant-lit sky:</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="color: black; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ml9ou9aQTSw/T_S_L5GKeSI/AAAAAAAABCI/tiqdwJygIMk/s1600/cullrin+5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ml9ou9aQTSw/T_S_L5GKeSI/AAAAAAAABCI/tiqdwJygIMk/s320/cullrin+5.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the kingdom of the deaf, the one-eared mice are kings.</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">As if realising the obvious lack of talent demonstrated by the boat-mice, the artist ups his or her game and does a reasonable job on the flowers and butterfly opposite.</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">On a roll now, the artist illustrates a good facsimile of a gnu, looking as if it is about to charge any child considering colouring it in pink. Other than that, though, things take a downward turn. The artist has now run out of animals to draw, and is reduced to portraying some sort of wallaby/teddy/dog hybrid about to be grabbed by a six-fingered, thumbless hand, presumably for the crime of simply existing.</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="color: black; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--kstZBfzVns/T_S6biL8-II/AAAAAAAABBk/7Drr_TXSO4M/s1600/cullrin+6.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--kstZBfzVns/T_S6biL8-II/AAAAAAAABBk/7Drr_TXSO4M/s320/cullrin+6.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"What am I? WHAT AM I?"</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">Towards the end of the book, impetus seems to be dwindling, and rather than draw another toad or existing creature, the artists wazzes off another example of whatever the hell that thing is, only this time the freak is attempting to hide it's shame behind an oversize flower. Good thing too:</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="color: black; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mTDIO0bnls0/T_wOqDKVzDI/AAAAAAAABCk/cDOHcNs8QbQ/s1600/freek.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mTDIO0bnls0/T_wOqDKVzDI/AAAAAAAABCk/cDOHcNs8QbQ/s320/freek.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't look at me, I beg of you. Look at the whale. </td></tr></tbody></table><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">The finale of the book, which in my opinion you might expect to be one of the better pieces of work to leave the audience with, is of a stunted whale, gaping mouth half full of vomit, spurting juice out of it's head-hole like some sort of cetacean money-shot.</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">Sadly, I do not foresee see many worthwhile accolades coming to this artist. Tracey Emin could have done it. </div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">From today's reading, many lessons emerge. I have learnt that I know two more animals than the artist responsible for this colouring book (camel and dog. I'm not showing off, just saying).</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">I have learnt that&nbsp; it doesn't really matter what you put on a page as long as children get to destroy it in the name of creativity.</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">Most importantly of all I have learnt that a snail can indeed look disgruntled.</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">Sometimes, the level of profundity I achieve through writing this blog staggers even me.</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">Ooh, snail!</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">That's three.</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><br /> [:db_insert_placeholder_4] => tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-917676458656665193.post-1618795888336161232 [:db_insert_placeholder_5] => 1341921120 [:db_insert_placeholder_6] => 10 ) in aggregator_save_item() (line 150 of /home/stoneskin/madd0g.org/modules/aggregator/aggregator.processor.inc).

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