Things in sunbeams, again.

I loaded Little Guinness with Fuji Acros 100 for the EAA Fly-in. I thought it's famous lack of reciprocity failure might result in reasonable exposure times inside the vendor hangars. Turns out one minute is as bad as five in a crowded aisle with lots of moving aviators.

The camera was in my pocket quite a bit for the summer and fall, usually while I was using another, medium format camera, and the film remained unexposed. 

Finally, I resorted to an old game, taking pictures of whatever fell in the path of the sunbeams in our house. I would swear I was just going to finish the roll and then after five or so exposures, it would again sit idle for weeks.

The unusual northern sunbeams, which are reflections off the neighbor's window, fall on the bouquet on the dining room table.

The sunbeams often fall in the middle of the carpet, so things need to be put there to take advantage of that. The bronze raven normally keeps watch from under the television.

The south facing window in the bathroom often projects sunbeams.

Makeup always comes in such nice packaging.

Bubble bath too.

The animalmorphic lens atop a jar of cotton.

Beauty tools.

Bag, boxes, and bottle. 

I've never thought to put the camera on the philodendron's shelf before. 

Except for the meteorite I got for my birthday, probably the oldest thing in the house - an ammonite fossil from the Cretaceous.

A sunbeam falls on the door to the sunroom casting the shadow of the chair's arm.

Just to the right, Mickey and Minnie get caught smoochin' again.

The bronze raven atop the small glass table.

A folded throw atop Sarah's footstool.

In their winter home upstairs, the pumpkin people take a break from reigning on the mantle.

Real pumpkins still under the kitchen table.

Me reading, while simultaneously being exposed with a medium format camera just to the left.

The red/cyan glasses I'm wearing in the blog profile picture, which I keep next to the couch in case NASA, ESA or René Vonk post something I need to look at.

The Apple TV remote in it's easy-to-find white non-slip rubber case.

The bottom of the sunroom door.

A birthday bouquet.

The metalwork under the kitchen table.

The last of the habeneros and tomatoes, also photographed in color about week earlier.

In order to complete the front portico restoration, I painted the storm door in the basement, illuminated by my hat mounted LED's to make it easier to see what I'm doing.

From the other direction. It took a long time and then the shutter accidentally remained open for another four hours. It must have gotten bumped at some point.

Little Guinness has a .17mm hand-drilled pinhole 24mm from a 24x36mm frame. The Acros 100 was semi-stand developed in Rodinal 1:100.