How to Avoid Speeding Tickets – for Dummies

by Jim Poulton

Amidon, North Dakota. Credit: Sorabji.com

‘No sir, I didn’t realize I was in a 30 mile per hour zone. Yes sir, I realize I was speeding. No sir, I wouldn’t like to spend the night in jail. Please sir, I would like to pay my fine in cash … may I give you the $150 now?’

It’s happened to anyone who’s spent time driving around the west. A speed trap, the flashing lights, wail of sirens, the slow walk up to your car window. The embarrassment, the chagrin, the lecture. The experience is emblazoned in our minds like an old trauma, so that any little indicator that it may be about to happen yanks our foot from the gas pedal.

Credit: InspirationalQuotesShortFunnyStuff.com

The police – who are no dummies – know this, of course. So they get creative. Especially in small towns, where they don’t often have the budget to run patrols day and night.

Belvedere, California. Credit: Mercury News

Enter Mr. Policeman(nequin).  It’s a phenomenon throughout the west: old police cars parked on the side of the highway with what looks like an alert police officer inside – well, at least he or she is sitting up straight. The mere sight of the car makes just about everybody slow down, except of course those in the know. It’s brilliant. The town gets a peaceful roadway without spending a plug nickel. And they make dummies of us all.

Lyman, Utah. Credit: Jim Poulton

Send us your Mannequins in Cop Cars pictures at info@my-west.com, or upload them to the My-West Photography Challenge Pool on Flickr.

Kane County, Utah. Credit: Donna Poulton

Kanab, Utah. Credit: Donna Poulton

Fredonia, Arizona. Credit: Unemploymentality.com

Fredonia, Arizona. Credit: Unemploymentality.com

It takes a mighty big sky to frame masterpieces like these

Excerpt from “Sunset at Bear Camp”

John Greenleaf Whittier

Photo courtesy of gmark1

Touched by a light that hath no name,

A glory never sung,

Photo courtesy of Merritt Stites

Aloft on sky and mountain wall

Are God's great pictures hung.

Photo courtesy of Trevor Manternach

How changed the summits vast and old!

No longer granite-browed,

Photo courtesy of jdwheaton 

They melt in rosy mist; the rock

Is softer than the cloud…

Image courtesy of Milano Liberi

What unseen altar crowns the hills

That reach up stair on stair?

Photo courtesy of Isolino

What eyes look through, what white wings fan

These purple veils of air?

Photo courtesy of richdrogpa

What Presence from the heavenly heights

To those of earth stoops down?

Image courtesy of Milano Liberi

Not vainly Hellas dreamed of gods

On Ida's snowy crown!

Photo courtesy of theilr

Send us your cloud pictures at info@my-west.com, or upload them to the My-West Photography Challenge Pool on Flickr.

Reader Contributions:

Photo sent to us by Milano Liberi

Photo sent to us by Milano Liberi

Photo sent to us by Milano Liberi

Photo sent to us by James Welker

Photo sent to us by Claire

Photo sent to us by Barbara - along with this comment: Hi MY-WEST.COM .... I looked at your amazing cloud photos, and here is mine ... taken (not in the wild west) but in South Africa one summer night!

Photo sent to us by RJ Burns

Photo sent to us by RJ Burns

Strings Attached

By Donna Poulton

“We Start With Clotheslines,” was the inaugural post on My-West.com.

Image courtesy of Merritt Stites

Hanging clothes is not only a fond memory, but an activity I enjoy today. For me, the experience can be summed up in a word—the smell. Wind-dried clothes take on the personality of the environment; absorbing foremost the aroma of sage, ozone and sunshine - but hints of yarrow, willow branches, Indian paint brush, wild lupine, mint and pine trees are infused in the clothes as well.  Clothes flapping in the Western breeze are like prayer flags signaling your arrival home.

Courtesy of the Cowgirl Museum and Hall of Fame

When I thought nothing could get better—it did. APRONS hanging on a clothes line bring up a whole new set of memories, many of them explored in an exhibition hosted by The National Cowgirl Museum and Hall of Fame.

Courtesy of the Cowgirl Museum and Hall of Fame

Titled Apron Chronicles: A Patchwork of American Recollections, the exhibition started on January 3^rd and ends soon…April 3^rd, 2011.  Diana Vela notes that aprons were not only the domain of women, but were found on “…chuckwagon cooks, blacksmiths and carpenters.”  The exhibition is told through the stories of three dozen men and women from Mali to America.

Courtesy of the Cowgirl Museum and Hall of Fame

Through the women, the exhibition explores “what [the aprons] represented to their family;…recipes; values and tradition from gentler, less complicated times;…survival; friendship…challenge…”  Not to be missed if you are in the neighbor hood of Fort Worth, Texas any time soon.

The function of an apron has always been to protect the clothes underneath it.  When clothes had to be hand washed, it was easier to wash and press an apron than a dress. Women usually owned at least one fancy apron with frills for special dinners with guests…

…and then there was the everyday apron. Often made from scraps of material, the everyday apron wasn’t so much a garment…as a tool.

10 Reasons Why My Grandmother Wore an Apron:

1.     It doubled as a pot holder for the hot handles on the wood stove and hot pans

2.     To dry wet hands

3.     The billow of the apron held chips and kindling for the fire, wild flowers from the meadow, mint from along the creek and onions and chard from the garden

4.     It held barley to feed the chickens and supported eggs found in the hen house

5.     The pockets held loose buttons, spare change, reading glasses and a hanky

6.     To wipe children’s noses, tears and dirt smudged hands

7.     To open jars, polish dull flatware and to catch the drip from a milk jar

8.     To hail the postman on the rural route when a letter hadn’t made it to the box on the road

9.     It held clothes pins in the pockets and shirts and socks from the line

10.   To wipe flour from hands that baked bread, soot from handling the fire and the sweat from her brow

Courtesy of www.sovintagepatterns.com

Washing Line. Courtesy of Gary Ernest Smith

Reader Contributions:

Painting by Heidi Darley. Sent to us by Susan Horne

Painting by Stephanie Deer. Sent to us by Stephanie Deer.

Pony Tales

by Bennett Owen

My-West is still in its infancy and already we're generating controversy. Since I wrote at length (the emotional scars obviously haven't yet healed - click here for the sordid details) about Nicky, the antisocial Shetland Pony we had as kids, relatives and readers have been writing, calling, tweeting, texting and facebook posting that they had no problems with their ponies and sending pictures to prove it. Add to our humiliation and the growing list by emailing me at info@my-west.com, or by uploading them to the My-West Photography Challenge Pool on Flickr.

Scroll down for Seinfeld's pony opinions and as always, thanks until better paid.

Credit: My-West.com (c)

Credit: My-West.com (c)

Credit: My-West.com (c)

Credit: My-West.com (c)

Credit: My-West.com (c)

Credit: My-West.com (c)

Credit: My-West.com (c)

Credit: Library of Congress

Credit: Library of Congress

Credit: My-West.com (c)

Here's the link to the Seinfeld episode about ponies.