Yep, this is my 1000th post. Dude, that's a lot of photos I've posted, especially since I often post more than one photo per post. The only two posts without photos are the first two posts, when I hadn't yet found my blog mojo.
I started taking photos six years ago almost to the day, and what a blessing it's been for me.
I say "blessing." You say "issue." Or "problem." Or "insane obsession." Or "the slow disintegration of my family."
The story of Yeti. As you know, Andy possesses an incredibly keen Yeti-radar, a Yeti-sense. He confidently stated that Yeti was lurking in these snowy woods lovely, dark and deep. I didn't doubt him because I, too, sensed he might be out there. Believe me, all my senses were were on alert for Yeti when I was out in these woods. I was also on alert for dead maidens in the water, especially since I was spending most of my time in the creek itself, with water pouring into my boots. And after I accidentally fell through some ice and unintentionally baptized myself with freezing Michigan winter creek water, I was also on alert for frostbite and, later, gangrene.
As you surely can guess about me by now, I'm the kind of guy who frankly is always at code orange--when I'm not at code red--for the ever-present threat of gangrene. Anxiety of my flesh rotting off my bones even as I live is, of course, just one of the many many concerns I deal with in the course of a day. My motto: moderation in the vigilance against gangrene is no virtue; extremism in the pursuit of a putrid-free body is no vice.
Poor Juli. Poor, poor Juli.
Anyway, while I was tromping around the woods, I noted some blood in the snow. I assumed it was human blood. I also assumed it was my own blood.
I'm not making that up.
I did assume that. I assumed that I was too cold (and too far gone from gangrene) to notice that I was bleeding out. Not that I cared much at that point, frozen as I was. I was pretty sure at this point that my frozen pinky toe on my right foot had chipped off and was rattling around in my boot. Still, I was intrigued by the bloold so I used my frozen boots to push some of the snow away to see what lay beneath but all I found more blood. Naturally I took a photo.
Now the truth, reader, is I had no intention whatsoever of posting this photo on the blog. I was going to keep it for my own satisfaction. Sweet heaven above, that souns far more repulsive and disturbing than I intended. All I meant is that not every photo I take needs show up on the blog.
Count your blessings.
Let's get back to the story, shall we? Reader, enough with the interruptions, please. It wasn't until this evening when I was exploring my photos that I noticed Yeti's face--his eyeball, a nostril, and part of his mouth protruding from the snow. I cropped the photo from this photo below. Both are enhanced.
And here's the photo as I took it, unenhanced. Even unenhanced, there's no doubt what we got in Michigan is a big ol' family of Yeti. They're nearly as numerous as Michigan militia members, though undoubtedly far less dangerous.
Andy was right. Yeti be in them woods. What a find. What a way to celebrate my 1000th post.
Now I'm going to look through my photos for dead maidens.
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