Full size canopy beds - Mosquito canopy net
Full Size Canopy Beds
- Beds with four posts that are connected together by rods at the top. Gorgeous fabrics are usually draped over the entire Bed. Beds are available in iron, wood, metal, and metal/wood.
- Of normal size for its type
- (of a bed) Having the dimensions suitable for two people, specifically 54 inches by 75 inches
- life-size: being of the same size as an original; "a life-size sculpture"
- Also called "circumaural," full-size cans have earcups
- A full-size car is a marketing term used in North America for an automobile larger than a mid-size car. In the United States, the EPA uses "large car" to denote full-size cars.
full size canopy beds - Full Size
Full Size Canopy Bed
The Bed frame is designed to lift your spirits. In one neat package, it helps you frame the world around you. It is solidly built to last for generations. The all-welded grills arch upwards in graceful swirls and curves, completing the 1 top rail. The distinctive shape on the center spindle casting draws your eye to the heart of the bed. Tall, 1 one-piece posts, showcase beautiful cast finials on top. Best of all, the bed frame hosts a simple linear canopy. It's the perfect place to drape billowing fabric to soften the architectural lines. Matte Black finish - midnight black sheaths the bed in a modern coat of armor. This one-step, powder coat finish is durable and completely maintenance-free.The Bed frame features an exciting scroll design and canopy. The textured black finish makes this a great transitional piece for any home. Fully-welded construction featuring heavy gauge tubing. Constructed of sturdy metal, this piece features classic ball finials atop elegant straight posts anchoring the straight main panels which are accented with delicately looping spindles.
Stormy Clouds, New Horizons
It’s hard to escape the increasing realisation that my friends and I are twenty-somethings. When you’re, say, 22-23, you can dump yourself in the ‘early-twenties’ category and be content that youth and vigour are still happily with you, albeit without the angsty energy of adolescence. Then you hit the 24-26 category, where you’re around the cusp of your third decade on the planet and it slowly dawns on you that time is getting on. A quarter of a century has passed since you were born and doubts start creeping in. You spend a bit of every day wondering if you’re on the right career path; whether you should have your own place by now; thinking a bit more seriously about having some little versions of yourself running around and when, Jesus when will you loose that gawky physique you gained when you were 16 and turn your naked self into something resembling a man rather than a baby chimp. However, if one thing comes with age, it’s a taste for good beer. As an underage teenager trying to be served in my local pub – complete with a soft teenage-moustache and enormous goggle-glasses - I was an avid lager drinker. You know: the likes of Kronenberg, Stella and, as a special treat, big bottles of Budweiser. Nowadays, though, I’m really not a lager fan at all. Nope, I’ve moved away to the considerably more interesting and mature world of ales and bitters. Ignoring the weak, crappy taste of Boddingtons and the like, ales are the way to go. Each has its own unique flavour and strength: some are very watery, some pack strong tastes that linger in your mouth for minutes, and others taste so flowery that I suspect brewers have been liquidising and bottling their local florists. Compared to lager, they’re incredibly flavoursome and rich and, once you’ve matured to Ale Age, there’s no going back. Still, as I watch my younger chums sucking up their lagers, I don’t judge or try to change them: nope, I quietly know that in a few years they’ll be watching other young men through the same, ale-distilled eyes. It’s all right, lager drinkers of the world: we were all there once, we understand, and we’re just waiting for you to join us. Now, believe it or not, the professional interests of palaeontologists go through a similar maturation. 90 per cent of fresh-faced, first-year palaeontology students are only interested in one thing: dinosaurs. It’s dinosaurs this, dinosaurs that: they tolerate the molluscs and echinoderms put in front of them for description, they begrudgingly look at sediments and will consider basic geological principles like Walther’s Law of Superposition and continental drift but, given any freedom of choice over their topic of study, and they want dinosaurs. Some palaeontologists never grow out of this and, for them, they’re only interested in a fossil animal if their remains are big enough that you can wield them like guitars and pose on the front cover of scientific rock magazine equivalents, National Geographic and New Scientist. Thing is, though, this blinkered view obscures some of the true marvels of the fossil record. Some of the most fantastic, amazing things require more patience and contemplation to appreciate. The mysterious Ediacaran fauna. Small but intricately-spiralled graptolites or spiny trilobites. 30 million year-old molluscs and beetles with bona fidecolour patterns. It’s frustratingly incomplete, but, for the mature palaeontologist, the fossil record is freaking awesome even without its A-listers like dinosaurs and enormous marine reptiles. Sometimes it’s the richness of a particular fossil deposit that is fantastic, and not necessarily the likes of the Chinese Jehol Group or German Solnhofen Limestones which, with their fantastically preserved early-birds and whatnot, are predictable headline fodder. No, given enough time and patience, even the most unassuming fossil-deposits can be veritable goldmines, assuming you know what you’re looking for and where to find it. Step in, then, my University of Portsmouth colleague, Dr. Steve Sweetman. Clearly not interested in discovering fossils that you can pose alongside while being circled by expensive photographers, Steve’s spent the last several years working on the microfossils of the Lower Cretaceous Wessex Formation of the Isle of Wight. To find them, he dried samples of silty clay taken from lignite-infested plant debris horizons found within the Wessex, washing the clay away and painstaking sifting through the remaining plant material to find the animal fossils. This required literally hundreds of hours of work to retrieve the fossils alone, let alone figure out what they were. As you might expect, such a project is worthy of a several-hundred page book, and, indeed, it’s results formed the subject of Steve’s Ph.D. thesis. However, the God-knows how many hours spent identifying his fossils have, thus far, only allowed him to review the Wessex tetrapods – vertebrates w
Pano - capitol reef
This is looking west at the capitol reef from a ridge top, just off the Notom-Bullfrog dirt road. It is a composite stitch of 7 photographs. You can see a larger "original size" version of this pano with the all sizes" plus tool. My wife and I left our home at 4 pm 17 April 2009 and pretty much drove straight through (19 hours) to a 5 tent site, remote camping spot along the east edge of Capitol Reef National Park in Utah. We traveled in our 1994 Toyota four wheel drive pickup with a cab high canopy; a nice mattress bed in the back; and all our travel, hiking, and backpacking gear “roughly organized” and stored in either the back of the pickup or in the extended cab section of the truck. When I tired, either my wife drove, or if we were both tired, we pulled into a place where we could both catch a little sleep. The pace was steady, persistent, but not rushed. The highlight of the drive down was Utah highway 72 up over the aspen laden high hills between I-70 and the tiny town of Loa. It was spectacular scenery; it had just become light and most important, we had never traveled this nice little section of road before. Saturday 18 April 2009 We stopped at the Capitol Reef National Park visitors’ center for some information on Cedar Mesa camp and for me to cheerfully purchase my $10 LIFETIME America the Beautiful pass (one of the benefits of being an “oldmantravels”). The lady ranger, who gleefully sold me the pass, smiled when she said, that the pass would expire, when I do. We stopped often to take photos as we worked our way down the Burr Trail Road south of Notom, Utah to our campsite. We were pleased with what we found. Juniper trees for shade; knock out view of the snow covered Henry Mountains; trailhead to Red Canyon right next to us; and a picnic table; fire pit; and nearby outhouse - - for all the amenities of camping you could want. Most of all it was quiet and uncrowded. We arrived at camp near mid-day so we ate and organized our camp. I put up our Siltarp so I could sit in my folding camp chair in the shade. My wife loves to sit in the sun and I have always preferred the shade. Soon, we had the camp ready to our liking so we shouldered our day packs, and headed out for a five mile (with side scrambles) hike, up into scenic “Red Canyon”. A swarm of gnats attacked us at camp, when we returned to camp so we took a short hike across the road until the combination of increased wind and decreased temperatures, removed our tormentors. We slept well in our truck canopy bed that night, though it got so cold that our water bottles in the cab of the truck, froze. Sunday 19 April 2009 After a great night’s sleep, we fixed breakfast and repacked the truck to a bright sunny, if cool, desert morning. After leaving Cedar Mesa Camp, we turned south and drove along the capitol reef to the intersection of the Burr Trail leading up over the reef and through nice canyon country to Boulder, Utah. We stopped frequently along this scenic road to take short scrambling hikes to viewpoints, wildflowers, or just for the fun of it through the slickrock country (always with camera at ready). At the top of the switchback road up to the top of the reef we turned north on a four wheel drive road to visit “Peek-a-boo” rock and walk some of the washes in the area. An ice chest full of cold diet Pepsi, was always handy back at our pickup truck, and appreciated. We stopped along a short, sweet, steep, narrow canyon along the paved portion of the Burr Trail and I took a fast hike to the headwall, to get a few photos. It was here, that I had my first, of many, “raven” encounters we would have during this trip. The raven became the “colophon, hallmark, and icon” for this road trip. Before leaving home a good flickr friend of mine (petalouda62) from Belgium, had recommended a book for me. I bought it and saved it to read on this trip, which I did, every chance I got, when we weren’t hiking. The book: Mind of the Raven by Bernd Heinrich. I thought I knew quite a bit about these highly intelligent, often mischievous, and often aloof birds - - but I would find in the book both entertainment and interesting information on these “wolf-birds”. So deep in this short dead end sandstone canyon, I heard the constant calling, echoing back and forth down the canyon. As soon as I left the canyon and turned to take a few more photos of it - - silently down and out of the canyon, glided the resident raven. It was one of many magic moments on this trip, involving Corvus corax. Thank you Roberta. We reached highway 12 at Boulder, Utah and drove on to Escalante, where we had a motel room reserved for Sunday and Monday nights (Circle “D”). Robert is the live in manager of the friendly little Escalante, Utah motel, and it is where we always try to stay when in the area. Dinner at Escalante Outfitters, and a visit to the Escalante visitors’ center, completed our fun second full day of this road trip.