Latent Images of the Mind

me & her

2012-02-28T19:44:00.001-06:00

59:365

So very happy to be home.

change of plans

2012-02-27T23:19:00.001-06:00

58:365

Changed my travel plans. Canceled KS leg and came straight home to my family. Sick daughter, sick husband. I'm glad I'm home, for them and for me.

molly

2012-02-26T23:38:00.001-06:00

57:365

This is Molly. She's a Wheaten terrier who is sweet and adorable, and who kept me company all day today.

I woke up sore from yesterday's hike, and sniffly and feeling lazy. I bid my friends good luck, sent them on their way, and snuggled up on the couch with my MacBook and Molly.

I no longer feel like I'm drowning in work and personal emails. It was a relaxing yet productive day, and just what I needed. Granted, I still have a bajillion things on my plate, but I have a pretty good idea of scope and priority now instead of an ominous looming shadow of vague obligations and tasks. I'm organized again, with less than 50 emails in each email account. This is progress, given that when I started I had nearly 700 in my work inbox alone.

I'm ready to get back to work, and I'm really ready to get home. To Kansas tomorrow night, and STL the next after a day of meetings. I'm ready.

frozen

2012-02-25T19:19:00.001-06:00

56:365

We hiked with snowshoes a little over three miles to Mills Lake (elevation 10,400). Once there, we were rocked by 50-60 mph gusts of wind carrying snow. It felt like my face was being sand-blasted. The only thing to do was turn my back to the wind and brace. That worked well until the winds changed direction suddenly. At one point Lynn and I both held on to our guide's pack (to keep it from blowing away while he chased his hat that had blown away), and leaned back into the wind. I don't know how far I leaned, but let's just say that if there were no wind I'd have been flat on my butt.

We stood on three to four feet of solid ice and grinned at each other between gusts. It was one of the most amazing experiences of my life.

hike

2012-02-24T19:29:00.000-06:00

55:365

Went for an "acclimation hike" this morning, in preparation for tomorrow's snowshoeing. Gorgeous.

We're not in Vegas anymore, Toto.

I captured this image of our little band of women, who are also gorgeous inside and out.

wine

2012-02-23T19:55:00.001-06:00

54:365

It's good to be back in Estes Park.

color tv

2012-02-23T00:38:00.001-06:00

53:365

penny slots

2012-02-22T00:24:00.001-06:00

52:365

photo fun in vegas

2012-02-21T02:37:00.000-06:00

descending

2012-02-20T20:28:00.000-06:00

51:365

carbonation

2012-02-19T18:54:00.000-06:00

50:365

Nothing tastes like insanely-expensive airport beer. Well, maybe insanely-expensive stadium beer, but at least you've got a ballgame to go along with it.

candy

2012-02-18T21:19:00.000-06:00

49:365

frost

2012-02-17T23:05:00.001-06:00

48:365

I may have already done a frost shot for my 365 project, but I can't remember and I've had a few beers so I'm not really inclined to check. My other shots today include an extreme close-up of Max and a skyscape, both of which have been done recently, and a detail from a Budweiser bucket this evening, which is just tacky.

So frost it is.

modern

2012-02-16T20:17:00.000-06:00

47:365

The Modern Maid isn't anymore (modern, that is), and so she was retired tonight. Which is to say we brought our old stove (which isn't quite as old as Ms. Maid but close) from the wrecker house and swapped them out.

It is very odd to see one's old stove in a different house.

Then again, we are experiencing a lot of new things these days so it's par for the course.

I'm happy to once again have the ability to make brownies, frozen pizza, and fish, among other things. One doesn't realize how much one uses the oven until one's oven is broken.

Shout out to my dad for his help in oven swapping. Thank you!!!

sunset + rain

2012-02-15T19:48:00.000-06:00

46:365

I had three shots lined up for today but felt uncharacteristically undecided, so I let M choose.

Dear Nikon

2012-02-15T18:27:00.001-06:00

Thank you. Thank you for finally, finally presenting not only a competitor to Canon's awesome 5D Mark II, but something better.

(For those of you wondering what the hell I'm slobbering over, it's this:

Truly, a thing of beauty.

And you can read all about its glorious 36.3 MP full frame sensor, 1080p video capabilities, and other awesomeness here.)

Now, darling Nikon, if you could just keep up with the crush of demand occurring because it's taken you a million years to come out with the D800, that would be great. Because M is in an open-wallet frame of mind and methinks that door may close the closer we get to construction.

Warm regards,
Amy
Nikonista

Caught up on some photography industry reading over lunch today. I should stay off the camera gear boards, really. Sigh.

Z Day

2012-02-15T12:15:00.000-06:00

While our Valentine's Day didn't exactly go according to plan, I'd still consider it a success.

M ordered me gorgeous flowers that were mis-delivered to the home in which we no longer reside, not to my workplace as intended. I didn't mind a bit as I was just thrilled to get flowers, but he spent 45 minutes on the phone with FTD trying to track them down and I'm sure that's not how he wanted to spend part of his day.

We tried to order pizza from one of our local favorites, and M's phone call went a little something like this (after waiting on hold for 10 minutes):
M: I'd like a large pepperoni and mushroom pizza.
Pizza Lady: Okay, and what do you want on it?
M: Pepperoni and mushroom.
PL: Okay, what else?
M: I'd also like some cheese sticks.
PL: Great, small or large?
M: How many are in each?
PL: I don't know. What did you want on your pizza again?
M: Pepperoni and mushroom. Okay, skip the cheese sticks. I'd like two side salads.
PL: Why don't you just get one large?
M: Okay, one large salad.
PL: What do you want on it? And what do you want on your pizza again?
M: Ummm, well, whatever comes on the side salads I guess. Pepperoni and mushroom on the pizza.
PL: I don't know what comes on the side salads. And what do you want on your pizza?

Which is pretty much when the conversation ended. We had leftover spaghetti instead.

Zoe had attended a gymnastics Valentines party after school with a friend, and between that and the candy, cupcakes and cocaine given at school to celebrate, she was wired. This resulted in misbehavior, which resulted in the corner, which resulted in tears.

The three of us ended up sitting down to dinner, all unhappy and grouchy. Zoe burst into tears and said, "I'm sorry!" And then I burst into tears and said, "I'm sorry, too!" And M just looked at us with wide eyes. I think it still blows his mind that he lives with two females.

We had a big family hug and decided to start over. And so we did, and then had wonderful evening together. After Zoe went to bed, we popped "Top Gun" into the player and laughed at the trite dialogue and flimsy plot, and I informed him that Kelly McGillis is a happily-married lesbian and therefore he stands no chance with her, and he informed me that his call sign would be, simply, "Z."

valentine

2012-02-14T20:55:00.001-06:00

45:365

I love that M knows my favorite flowers are gerber daisies, and that he knows that I'd rather have daisies over traditional roses, even (or especially?!) on Valentines Day.

(FYI, I gave M "Top Gun" for VDay. On Blu-ray no less. Yep. We're made for each other!)

I hope you all gave and received love today, and indeed that you give and receive it EVERY day.

VDay Prep

2012-02-13T20:39:00.000-06:00

We are ready to go for Valentine's Day. She has written her cards according to instructions, and heart erasers are attached. Her box of chocolates is ready to go for her teacher. We used a tissue box, two toilet paper rolls and construction paper to create a castle for her to collect her Valentines. After she went to bed, I made rice krispie treats and used red food coloring to tint them pink. M's little gift is wrapped and card written, both hidden, which is an accomplishment in itself in our micro-home.

For the first time in years, I feel ready for Valentines Day. Unlike the year I took Zozer to preschool with no Valentines. The guilt from that will propel me for life, I think.

To: friend From: Zoe

2012-02-13T20:30:00.000-06:00

44:365

tea party

2012-02-12T21:59:00.000-06:00

43:365

lit

2012-02-11T21:07:00.000-06:00

42:365

love

2012-02-10T22:20:00.001-06:00

41:365

She ate for a few minutes by herself, then called me in to see the Cheerios heart she made for her mama.

stacks

2012-02-09T20:20:00.000-06:00

40:365

We rediscovered the library tonight. Bliss. I've been away too long, my love.

snow

2012-02-08T19:27:00.000-06:00

39:365

Snow! We didn't get as much as I had hoped, but it was enough to make the world beautiful this morning.

The Nelly Fix

2012-02-08T16:03:00.003-06:00

I've been pretty cranky since we moved. Okay, more than cranky. I've been downright b*tchy.

I couldn't figure it out. I mean, I've got everything moving in the right direction. Generally. Yes, moving is stressful, but it can't be worse than two years of grad school while working full-time and raising a child, right? If I can get through two years of that, I can get through anything, right?

In a call with my BIL the other day, I lamented about the lack of space in our temporary home. And when I say lack of space, I don't mean "it's a little tight." Or even, "we're a little cramped." Or, "this is a great way to downsize." I mean, "I have no f*cking space. And no f*cking place to put anything I need to keep/use, much less anything I might want to keep/use." He said that perhaps this experience is a great way for me to push back against my AR tendencies, to relax more.

Right.

When I was in college, I lived, at two different times, with two complete slobs. Those experiences pushed me from being a quirky neatfreak to full-blown obsessive compulsive about things being in their place. Don't blame me, blame them.

What I have learned in the last week+ of living here is that being in such tight quarters makes me want to scream if even one thing is slightly out of place. Which, if you've ever moved, means that in my world right now everything is way out of place.

So I run around and keep cramming things into places they don't really fit, in a vain attempt to get us to some semblance of organization. It works, for awhile. Until my family comes home.

And then today, on the phone with M, I lost my shit entirely. Full-blown melt-down. Since we have moved in here, I have lost numerous possessions, including one of the cats (almost). We have burnt dinner and melted a pot on a stove that has two settings: off and nuclear fusion. (Ironically, on this same stove the oven doesn't work at all.) I have sliced a finger open, and continue to bang various parts of my body into walls and furniture. When we melted the pot we damn near burned the entire place down. We've had to plunger both the bath drain and the kitchen sink, and we installed a low-flow shower head from the old house so that more than one person can have hot water for their shower in the morning.

In venting to a friend this morning, I said, "I feel like I'm as cranky as the woman who lived here before me." And we realized that there might be some serious negative energy going on in this space. She googled house cleansing and told me I need sage and to do something called smudging.

Well, I don't have sage, nor do I have anything smudge-worthy, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

I have two eucalyptus candles burning and Nelly blaring. We call it an "Urban Cleansing." A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

sky

2012-02-07T22:39:00.000-06:00

38:365

Spectacular morning sky...

Bookworm

2012-02-07T12:41:00.000-06:00

It's been bothering me a lot lately. How many books we have. Or, I should say, I have. Most of the books in our library are mine.

When I was little, I used to dream of having a whole room dedicated to, and filled with, books. Rows and rows, like a library. All mine, to read whenever I wanted. (Yes, I was/am a nerd. Whatever. I'm now comfortable with that label.) My grandmother would take me to my favorite local bookstore and tell me I could choose one or two books, and I would agonize over which one for the better part of an hour. I'm sure I drove her crazy, but she kept taking me. That's love.

I've always been an avid reader. I read in the car, on the bus to school, wherever. My mom likes to tell the story of how I had to ask for directions to my high school after I got my drivers license and could finally drive myself. I didn't know how to get there because I always had my nose in a book for the ride.

A few years ago Amazon introduced the Kindle. I turned my nose up in scorn. Who would want to forgo the lovely texture of paper, the exquisite binding, the perfect fonts? Yes, I love technology, but I love my books more. I had finally reached the point in my life where I did have the room full of books, and it was wonderful. We spent a lot of time in our "library." Zoe played in there for hours as an infant and toddler, and so it became a library/playroom. Guests would walk in and gawk at all the books. "Holy cow, have you read all those?" It was a source of pride.

Then, M gave me a Kindle for Valentine's Day. It was wholly unexpected. He beamed. "The guy who spoke at the conference I went to had one, and on a break he let me see it. I thought of how much you read and knew you'd like it. I went back to my room that night and ordered one for you!" He was careful to explain that he chose the Kindle specifically because it wasn't backlit. "You spend all day in front of a computer. Your eyes need a break. With the Kindle's magnetic ink system, it's just like reading from a book." Yeah, right, I thought. I was pretty much being an ungrateful little snot. I just knew I would hate this thing, and felt bad that he was so positive about it. (Turns out that one of the real reasons he was so gung-ho about the purchase was that he just knew I would only download the free books, thereby saving him a ton of money. Silly boy.)

And then, I used it.

Holy mother of all things literary, it's just about the coolest thing I have ever owned. A crap-ton of books, all in one little spot. I could flip back and forth at will. I could download books with a couple of button clicks. I could lay on one side and use only one hand to hold it and turn pages. It is awesome when traveling because it's very, very thin and lightweight, and I can stand in a boarding line with one hand on my luggage while holding/page turning with the other. Plus, as soon as I finish a book, another one is just waiting to be downloaded.

Turns out I don't miss paper books at all.

Since we just moved, I have had the opportunity to look at everything we own with a cold, calculating eye. "Do we really need this? No? Out it goes!" The books have come within my sights. I did give quite a few to the St. Louis Book Fair, figuring I no longer needed the giant hardback "Airplanes of War" that so intrigued me in high school (reference Nerd status) because a.) I'm a different kind of nerd now and b.) the info is so drastically outdated and c.) better info and pictures on the internets, duh.

I kept many others. My beloved Tom Clancy set. A whole series of biographies on the Founding Fathers (that's my new Nerdism). Anything signed, like my cherished Letters from Robben Island by Ahmed Kathrada. They were packed in boxes that sagged with their weight, and my movers silently cursed me a couple weekends ago.

But now? Now I wonder if I needed to keep all those. The signed copies, yes. Those are definitely special and cannot be replaced on the Kindle. And my gorgeous photography books. But pretty much everything else can probably go.

I lamented to M the other day, "I wish there was a program where I could turn in all my hard copy books and get the digital copies for my Kindle." He laughed and said, "I'll just pay you to get rid of them!" I thought more about it, and figured I'm not the only one in this predicament. So I did what any self-respecting nerd today would do: I googled it.

Turns out Amazon itself has a lovely book buy-back program. My pulse quickened. Yes! The first thing I saw was the process, wherein you search the program for the title you have to trade in (must be exact edition, etc.), find it, and click the trade-in button. The site gives you a label to ship the book back (free shipping!) and then once Amazon receives and enters it into the database, your account is credited. Heaven! Bliss! I'll start today!

And then, just to check it out, I searched for the Tom Clancys. Turns out I can trade in those lovely hardcover books and be credited anywhere from 65 cents to $1.45 for each. Wow.

So, that's not going to work. I have an issue with getting 65 cents for a book I shelled out 20 bucks for. It's the reason I still have my freshman chemistry book. I paid $70 for it and the student bookstore wanted to give me $5 for it at the end of the semester, when I knew they'd turn around and sell it for $60, especially since it was hardly used. (see Why I Am Not An Engineer.) It was the principle of the matter. I'd rather have a $70 doorstop than let the bookstore so blatantly profit from my lack of interest in basic chemistry. In current times, this translates to I think I'd rather give all my books to the Book Fair and at least let a charity benefit.

So that's where I am right now. A raging internal debate on what to do with all these f*cking books. Hopefully I'll figure out a solution before we move back into our new home.

man on a roof

2012-02-06T21:21:00.000-06:00

37:365

iUnpacked

2012-02-05T21:20:00.001-06:00

36:365

Unpacked and set up the iMac today. NOW it's starting to feel like home.

ribbons

2012-02-04T20:31:00.000-06:00

35:365

details of today

2012-02-03T21:01:00.000-06:00

Lots of fun things to look at today, starting with a gorgeous sunrise. An ancient record player and its 45, which gave us scratchy music for square dancing in Zozer's PE class. And keys for our temp home, since we started with only one for the front door and M left it at work last night.

All in all, a pretty fine day.

more hundreds

2012-02-03T20:57:00.000-06:00

Bouncy balls, marshmallows, and perhaps my favorite: ninja stars!

pennies

2012-02-03T20:34:00.000-06:00

34:365

Zoe glued 100 pennies onto posterboard to celebrate her 100th day of school. I've got examples of other students' projects, but this is my photo for today. Because it makes me think of her, and the memory of working on this with her the weekend we moved. It makes me smile.

(Note that the pennies are all tails-up. She is, after all, her father's daughter.)

focus

2012-02-02T15:22:00.001-06:00

33:365

I chose "focus"'as my one little word this year, and my mama got me this necklace for Xmas. I wear it daily.

I chose focus because I knew that while 2012 is going to be awesome, it's also going to be insane and busy and frantic and trying. I want to remember throughout this year to remain focused on what is really important.

A secondary reason is that I'm attempting my first 365. A photograph a day for a year. I'm using the iPhone for this, as I recognize my time limitations are higher than ever right now. Using the iPhone frees me up to shoot the details of my everyday life, regardless of where I am, simply because I always have my phone with me. And I can shoot, edit, and post in under a minute, which will NEVER happen with a dslr.

So here's to focus, in all its beautiful shades of meaning.

smoker

2012-02-01T23:55:00.000-06:00

32:365

tabasco

2012-01-31T22:01:00.000-06:00

31:365

Tabasco and lemons for our oysters on the half shell tonight.

Sometimes I marvel at how far I've come. When I was in my early 20s, fish sticks were the extent of my seafood adventures. Thank goodness M taught me the importance of trying new things. My life is so much richer because of it.

gone

2012-01-30T20:52:00.000-06:00

30:365

Out of town again. I laughed at the irony last night of simultaneously packing (a suitcase) and unpacking (boxes). Even though I'm used to traveling now, it was strange to leave my home of two days this morning. And frustrating. My mascara was inexplicably separate from the rest of my makeup, and my MacBook power cord is nowhere to be found. Thankfully I had enough time to run into the office and unwire my desk to bring my "permanent" one with me.

I meant to work tonight, here at the hotel, but waves of exhaustion are saying otherwise. I think I might actually get to sleep before 10. 9:30 if I'm lucky!

glue

2012-01-29T22:11:00.001-06:00

29:365

Today we moved. Again, essentially. Well, I guess the correct phrase would be "we moved some more," but it really felt like we moved again.

Tomorrow, for the first time this school year (because timing is a bitch), Zoe has a project due. She had to choose 100 of something and glue it down to posterboard as they are celebrating 100 days of school. She chose pennies. Cool. She counted them all out and created her design. Then looked at me expectantly. "Oh, right! You need glue!"

Well, okay. I know we have glue. I know this because I packed it. In one of the eleventy billion boxes that hold all our stuff. Shit.

I found three boxes labeled "Zoe Art Supplies" in the office. Ironically none of them had glue. So I eyeballed the stack you see here, that currently resides in her room. Took a deep breath and dove in. Took about four boxes, but I found it. We glued, and she's thrilled, and I unpacked more boxes.

Dining room table is clean. Only 1 box in sight in the living room. Our bedroom is manageable, and all the clothes are put away.

We're doing good. Tired, but good.

movers

2012-01-28T22:43:00.000-06:00

28:365

And so we were today. Movers.

Tonight? Tonight we are The Moved. Very, very tired, but moved.

Still a few things left to bring from home to the "lifeboat" as my FIL so aptly named it, and several boxes to unpack, and the office to set up. But we have beds, and clothes, and cats, and when we are done with boxes they get put away, not stacked along walls and in halls. So it is all very, very good.

stickers

2012-01-27T23:41:00.001-06:00

27:365

empty

2012-01-26T23:29:00.000-06:00

26:365

Cabinets aren't the only things that are empty. We are spent. Running on fumes.

This week's observations

2012-01-25T20:38:00.000-06:00

Although I select one shot each day to feature here, I take many more. Here are some little samples of what I've seen lately.

reload

2012-01-25T20:34:00.001-06:00

25:365

My hard drive started failing in Orlando. One day it bogged way down, then took me four tries to get it to reboot. I gimped along and worked on it for 2.5 days after returning. Monday afternoon I went to the Apple Store where the Genius plugged in a diagnostic cable and wrinkled up his forehead. "Are you backed up?"

I wasn't. Because our old, decrepit network at the office is full of outdated garbage and wouldn't hold my 96GB of files.

I'm not sure if it was exhaustion or having a hundred other things on my mind or blind faith in my beloved Mac, but I did not lose my shit. I didn't even wince. I marched over to the accessories wall and selected a 500GB external drive. I handed it to the Genius along with my Amex. "Here. Back it up, then replace the drive. Call me when you're done." The new drive is covered under warranty, and the external unit was $110 and something I need for backups anyway since the network is worthless.

He said he did not think he'd be able to back it up, but he'd try. I said, "It'll work."

Then I left, picked up more banana boxes from the grocery on the way, and came home to work on my personal Mac.

At 7:38 that night the Genius called. "I got everything backed up. Your new hard drive is being installed and you should be able to pick it up tomorrow morning."

I picked it up, along with my new external drive, but continued to work from home as I had pressing deadlines and no time to reinstall all my software.

That was this morning's task. Took me four hours to get everything reloaded and configured, but I'm back in business.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why I'm such a huge Apple fan.

date night

2012-01-24T22:07:00.001-06:00

24:365

Date night with friends. Cicero's for dinner, then Craig Ferguson at The Pageant. Lots of f-bombs. F*ckin' funny. Great f*ckin' night.

I'm hoping that M will think it's too late to pack any f*cking boxes when we get home. I'm f*cking tired.

bubble beards & birthday

2012-01-23T19:43:00.001-06:00

23:365

Happy birthday to my awesome hubby!

He wanted lasagna for dinner, and a quiet family night. I ran for carryout while he picked up The Bug and got her bath started. I got home just in time to hear the giggles in the bathroom, where she announced to him that she was successful in being "a boy and a girl at the same time." She accomplished this by giving herself "pigtails and a beard." We laughed, and that's when I knew we had given him the perfect birthday night.

Love you sweet M. Here's to 40 more years of laughter!

disorder

2012-01-22T21:01:00.000-06:00

22:365

Those of you who know how much I like order and organization, simplicity and calm, etc. know just how much my inner voice is screaming right now.

Try as I might, I can't keep this house from looking like a tornado, hurricane, tsunami and earthquake struck simultaneously.

I am dangerously close to hauling it all to the curb and starting over from scratch when the new house is done.

One week left. One week, then we move. We'll live greatly scaled back for a few months, and I'm really looking forward to that after getting a startling view of just how much we own.

Who knows...maybe when it comes time to move back I really will just chuck it all and start over!

birthday boy

2012-01-21T23:40:00.000-06:00

21:365

Probably the biggest surprise tonight was that he wore the propeller beanie all night.

Great night for a great guy. Love you, M!

waiting

2012-01-20T19:30:00.000-06:00

20:365

burned

2012-01-19T18:45:00.000-06:00

19:365

Today I used a candy thermometer for the first time in an attempt to make caramels for M's pending 40th birthday. It's a vintage Betty Furness candy thermometer. She is pictured on the front gleefully holding the thermometer and I imagined her saying, "Easy breezy!"

Yeah.

Not so much.

Turns out that making caramel requires a skilled hand and dedicated attention. One can't, for instance, also handle a barrage of work emails and a ringing cell phone.

Trust me.

Two scalded pots. The smell of scorched sugar. And no caramels.

M took it in stride and said that it's the thought that counts.

Good man, M.

Unlike that b*tch Betty Furness.

gate wait

2012-01-18T20:07:00.000-06:00

18:365

It's good to be home.

going down

2012-01-17T19:46:00.000-06:00

17:365

Details of yesterday

2012-01-17T07:05:00.000-06:00

My eyes were wide open yesterday.

socks

2012-01-16T21:28:00.001-06:00

16:365

Lots of good images today but this one is my favorite. My British boss (as opposed to my French boss and my American boss) always wears great socks. I have shot them many times before but today the light was finally right and he was sitting just this way. He's used to me trying to photograph his socks so he didn't move a muscle when I rounded the corner, pulled out my iPhone and dropped to a squat. He just laughed.

skylights

2012-01-15T16:38:00.000-06:00

15:365

apples

2012-01-14T17:05:00.001-06:00

14:365

leader

2012-01-13T20:46:00.001-06:00

13:365

My company sponsored this adorable 14-week old black Labrador to become a leader dog for the blind. She'll undergo over a year of training and then have to pass a test before she's given, for free, to her partner for life. It costs about $40,000 to train one puppy.

I am grateful to work for my company, and now I'm also really, really proud.

PM me if you want the deets. She's got her own FB page where you can follow her through her training and adventures. Right now she's here in Orlando with me!

palm

2012-01-12T20:29:00.001-06:00

12:365

I got 20 minutes of outside time today. It was heaven.

spoons

2012-01-11T16:10:00.000-06:00

11:365

Meeting kicked off with a bang this morning. I debuted a new global video with Collective Soul's "Better Now" as the music bed, after four days of arguing with a Brit whether it was the right song. It was.

Long day, and it's not over yet. I spotted these spoons on a tray in the meeting room turned dining hall as the stewards were flipping.

Time to go change my shirt and freshen up what's left of my makeup so I can plaster on a permagrin before dinner.

tease

2012-01-10T08:15:00.000-06:00

10:365

At least when I walk through the atrium between meetings I can catch a glimpse of the sky. The indoor trees also help.

It's still not the same, though. Sigh.

nice digs

2012-01-09T17:40:00.001-06:00

9:365

Home for the next nine days. Here we go...

found

2012-01-08T14:58:00.001-06:00

8:365

We've been getting good moving boxes for free off Craig's List.

Today, I picked up a box to take it into the bedroom to pack and heard a noise. Upon inspection I discovered a few lonely puzzle pieces at the bottom. They were hiding under the flaps at the bottom of the box.

They are going to seriously piss off someone who tries to complete the puzzle some day, but today they made me laugh.

And then there was dark

2012-01-07T22:33:00.001-06:00

M started taking down the lights today. We stood outside last night for 15 minutes before they went off, just watching. We have done this for years, but last night had special significance since it's the last year in this house. Like a lot of experiences these days it was bittersweet.

living amongst the boxes

2012-01-07T22:14:00.000-06:00

7:365

We pack pack pack. Then we pack some more. Basement and darkroom are nearly done. Library and dining room completely done.

We are tired.

gear guilt

2012-01-06T21:39:00.000-06:00

6:365

Work bought me a new Canon 5D Mark II. I recommended it because Nikon doesn't have a single body even remotely comparable right now. And partially because I was curious to try The Other Side and could now do so without spending my own hard-earned cash.

I feel guilty. Like I'm cheating. On Nikon.

Yes, I realize that Nikon is a big, faceless mega-company that couldn't give a flying f*ck about what system I use. But still. When I was a kid, just dreaming about becoming a photographer, I lusted after Nikons. And that was way back in the film days.

My first film body was a Minolta. It did a pretty decent job, although looking back our saleswoman was an idiot and over-sold us with a bells & whistles camera a high school student didn't need.

When I started shooting again after years of dormancy (aka college, then engagement, then newlyweddedness) and found the Minolta busted, I realized my dream and got myself my first Nikon. She's a beautiful little N80 that feels great in my hands and has a shutter that is music to my ears.

After a few years, digital increased in quality and I converted to a Nikon D100. It was heavier and thicker, but the shutter sang and I was completely smitten with digital.

By this point I had acquired quite a few lenses. Which is what really ties a photographer to a brand. You can't just wake up one day and decide to go Pentax because that would render your entire camera bag obsolete.

The D100 was trusty and true, never failing. It simply became a relic like all other seven-year-old DSLRs. M bought me a gorgeous D300, which has been by my side more than any other camera since that Minolta in high school. It's a fantastic body. Reliable, sturdy, comfortable.

But then...

The crop sensor on the D300 started bugging me. Not that it is failing...just that my NAS kicks into high gear every so often and I start hankering for something new. Better. Bigger. Like...a full-frame sensor. Drool.

So I started looking at them. And was appalled to find that my beloved Nikon doesn't have shit in the way of a 21MP full-frame sensor DSLR that also shoots 1080p hi-def video.

But Canon does.

I feel like a noob all over again because I can't intuitively shoot any more. Things are backwards and I'm anything but graceful just trying to fire off a few snaps. I'll get there, but right now I'm struggling.

I'm also struggling because there are things about the Canon that are simply done better than my Nikon. Yeah, my Nikon is 3 years old now, but there isn't even a current Nikon to which I can compare this Canon.

So with every click of the Canon I feel a little guilty. The shutter sounds different, and I feel guilty that I don't hate it. The focusing screen is strange, and I feel guilty that I don't mind it.

M is having a heart attack that I might seriously want to switch.

I'm not there yet. I have the work Canon to keep me amused for awhile.

But you're on notice Nikon. Step it up dudes.

And get rid of that idiot Kutcher you have shilling for the consumer stuff on tv. Take the money you're paying him and put it towards much-needed R&D.

Or I just might drop the guilt and just go for better gear.

luggage claim

2012-01-05T18:11:00.000-06:00

5:365

Good to be back. Would be even better if the damn parking shuttle would get here.

early flight

2012-01-04T17:28:00.001-06:00

4:365

Up at 4 this morning. 6:25 a.m. flight that got me to KC with barely enough time to drive a rental car to Lenexa for a 9 a.m. meeting with one of my three bosses.

Given that I didn't go to sleep until after midnight (M finished packing the library while I de-ornamented and then disassembled the Xmas tree), I'm tired.

Good day though. I do have a team dinner tonight, before which I hope my second wind kicks in. Good food with good people, can't ask for much more on a business trip. Except maybe some sleep. Yawn.

About today's image: I enjoyed the benefit of being A-List for the first time today, when this nice gentleman fast-tracked me through a huge crowd of people waiting to get through security. They all looked about as awake as I was, and then grumpy to boot when I scooted right through. Doesn't make up for having to leave my family, but it's a nice little perk that gave me enough time to grab some breakfast before boarding.

morning light & shadows

2012-01-03T20:27:00.000-06:00

3:365

Every morning I watch the lines creep across the wall of my office while I work. I don't know why, but I find it comforting. Maybe it's the gentle reminder that no matter what chaos is happening in my life the world keeps turning and my issues are pretty inconsequential. It's a lovely little grounding that helps me keep things in perspective.

clouds & lines

2012-01-02T08:52:00.000-06:00

2:365

Dramatic clouds today. I love how much the Midwest sky changes.

I think my company is the only one in the US that gave Friday as the New Years holiday and not today. Made for an easy drive into work this morning, and quiet phones. I'm not complaining...it's nice to dig out of a huge email backlog with little interruption!

Celebration

2012-01-01T21:23:00.000-06:00

1:365

Can't we just let them secede?

2011-12-22T07:53:00.009-06:00

This morning on the way into work I listened to a news story about education in the state of Texas. It seems that they've doubled what they spend per student over the last decade or so, and essentially have nothing to show for it. The state, seeing the same hard times as the rest of us, is now slashing funding for education.

This in and of itself is not surprising, nor necessarily news. It's a pretty common sentiment, unfortunately.

What was appalling to me, were the interviews conducted with parents of children currently attending several Texas high schools.

Some idiot mouth-breather stated that he'd rather see curriculum cut than football. "Football is more important," he said. "I'd work overtime, take another job, just about anything, to make sure football isn't cut. I think they should cut curriculum before they cut football."

This is when my mouth started hanging open, as my brain tried to grasp the sheer stupidity of my fellow man. I'm sure the drivers around me thought I was having a stroke.

What the f*ck.

Then he went on to clarify, because his first statement didn't fully convey what a meat-head he is. "They oughtta keep math and science, and bring back vocational skills. Cut all the liberal arts crap. That stuff is just fluff anyway. Cut liberal arts and keep football."

Which is when the voices in my head started screaming. What about the vast majority of students who don't play football? What about the kids in the drama club, the kids in band, the kids for whom art is their way of feeling they belong in this world and that it's their only way to communicate?

I absolutely cannot stand it when people discount the importance of liberal arts. What the jackass on the radio this morning fails to realize (perhaps because he never benefitted from any liberal arts classes, or education whatsoever, apparently), is that art has been around as long as we've been around. Cave men were scratching out images on the ol' living room cave wall well before they figured out how to skin a pig, make a funny lookin' ball, and run around and jump on each other. Society will always create art. Football, however, is not essential.

Now, I'm a football fan, and a big fan of team sports in general. I think they teach important social skills to children, and can be excellent for building self esteem. However, I would never, ever consider cutting educational curriculum to keep football on the program.

The reporter stated that as Moron Man (my name for him; the reporter maintained his objectivity) was speaking, a small cluster of other parents standing around were nodding in agreement. After he left, several other parents stepped up to say they vehemently disagree. I found it interesting that they waited until the man left to speak up, but then considered they were probably confronted with a trash-talking, uneducated former linebacker bully and chose personal safety over trying to start an informed debate with an idiot.

I realize we Missourians have our own issues, but man, today I'm supremely thankful I don't live in Texas, or anywhere near someone who thinks that football (an exclusionary sport that generally doesn't allow women unless in a highly sexualized manner as sideline ornamentation, and that never includes smaller, less athletically inclined boys) is more important than actual education.

Presents and possibilities

2011-12-22T02:01:00.000-06:00

I can't sleep.

Not for my usual reason of there being so much to do that I can't quiet my mind.

I've got Christmas under control for the most part. All 53 presents that have arrived or were purchased locally are wrapped. We're awaiting a few more from on-line stores, but they'll come over the next few days and I'll be able to wrap them leisurely. This year, I've been wrapping a bit each night instead of doing my usual marathon wrapping session right before Christmas Eve. This worked well for keeping my stress level down, but our kitchen has been a huge mess and virtually unusable for about five straight days. My cook had some issues, but he coped well and overall things went much more smoothly for me.

We tried as much as possible to purchase from local small businesses this year. While we may have paid a bit more here and there, I think it was worth it. I've been noticing a movement to support small business and I hope more and more people listen and that it pays off. Some things just couldn't be sourced locally though, and in those instances we purchased on-line from reputable companies. We finished up Zoe's shopping tonight, finally hitting the evil Wal-Mart behemoth only in an attempt to make sure we covered all our bases, and I'm pleased to say that the retail bully got less than ten of our Christmas dollars this year.

No, I think the reason I can't sleep has nothing to do with Christmas, and everything to do with a new opportunity opening up at work. When my position was created for me last year, we threw pretty much everything related to communications in the job description. And then some. We had no one handling comms for the North America Zone thus far, and it was a stretch to even get a headcount of one, so we figured why not? Well, why not turns out to be that it's insane to expect one person to handle media relations, website creation and maintenance for both corporate and multiple product sites, and internal communications, along with translation responsibilities ("Here, we French have roughly translated this scientific document on poultry vaccines into English and we mangled it but good. Can you fix it before we send in to the international journals?"). My communications counterparts at headquarters also recently took on event planning, which is fantastic when you have a staff of six plus but damn near impossible when you're trying to tack that on to the sole team member in the US.

However.

Since this was the only option to start the comms department in North America, I gamely took it all on. Suffice it to say, I've given it my best shot and, as in most cases where one is stretched too thin, I've managed to do none of it particularly well. One of my three bosses began to recognize this much earlier than any of us, and took it upon himself to retain an independent external PR professional with whom he had worked in the past. We all got off on the wrong foot as he basically hired her without informing anyone, and because she can be (okay, is) a royal pain in the ass to work with. The last six months consisted of petty cat fights and a tug-o-war of responsibilities. At one point I thought we were going to resort to pissing on the corners of the building in Lenexa to mark boundaries.

In a come-to-Jesus meeting a couple of months ago, I finally admitted that I don't have the bandwidth to get everything done. At least not get it all done well. But I also demanded that if we were going to rely on external vendor support, I needed to run it. It's the only way to ensure that messaging stays consistent and the only way to keep France happy. My US boss balked at first, but finally agreed. I grudgingly let go of the media relations portion of my job and he grudgingly gave up micro-managing. It's been going extremely well, and I feel as though a weight has been lifted and that I'm finally free to really focus on some much-needed projects and do them well.

My second boss has been hounding me to research and purchase a new DSLR with video capability. I resisted for a long time, simply because I couldn't take on any more. Video shooting and production on top of everything else? Pssshhhh. Ain't gonna happen. In a conversation this morning, one of our first since the shift in responsibilities, he brought it up again. And, for the first time, I began to understand the value and feel as though I could, indeed, take it on.

And it would be fun.

A new camera (squeee!), and a new format (video!), and training on how to edit video (hooray for learning!), all paid for by my company.

So that's what has my mind reeling tonight, I think. Why I can't sleep. I'm pretty excited about this. I have no idea what this may translate into for the future, but it looks pretty damn good. And fun. I've already started research, and it appears I'll wind up learning the Canon system. My beloved Nikon is behind the 8-ball these days with innovation, due in part to a manufacturing facility in Japan being taken out by a tsunami. Lenses and bodies are short in supply, and I think they've released only one new body this year. What they do have available is half as good as Canon and twice as expensive. The internets are rife with rumors about pending competitive releases, but I can't sit around and wait for conjecture to become reality. Nope. I think a Canon 5D Mark II, a kick-ass lens, and the latest in editing software is in my future.

Come to mama.

Card ritual

2011-12-14T07:15:00.001-06:00

We picked up our Christmas cards last night, so after Zoe was tucked into bed I settled on the couch with the lap desk, a snuggly blanket, favorite pen, and a stack of envelopes.

I forget each year how important it is to me to write these out by hand. Every year I contemplate using my Excel spreadsheet in true geeky fashion and creating a mail merge to print labels. I consider what clipart I could use, or if I could make one of my images teeny tiny and still capture what I'm trying to convey. I let my mind wander through fonts, deciding which I'd use this year.

And then, when it comes down to it, I give up the merge idea and start to handwrite simply because it's easier than messing with formatting in Office.

And once I begin, I remember why it's so important that I do this each year.

Things change. I mean, there are always huge changes to reflect upon that happen in the course of just one year.

People move. Couples get married. Babies are born. We lose loved ones.

Writing out each address by hand reminds me to slow down and think of everyone with intention. Sometimes I laugh, remembering how much fun we had at this wedding or that. Sometimes I cry, slowly striking off my list those who passed away. With each name comes memories. I mail a card to my 7th grade teacher who meant so much to me during a difficult time, and this year, to my new friends gained during the incredible experience of Camp Shutter Sisters. Old family friends we see only once a year but who are held in special places in our hearts, and new friends found on the sidelines of kindergarten soccer games. Former colleagues with whom we waged corporate battles and endured layoffs and budget cuts. I always send a card to the phenomenal group of women at P.A.R.I.N.T.S., an organization dedicated to helping couples conceive. This one simple act each year, writing out their address, reminds me once again of how much we struggled to get our darling girl, and how every agonizing second of that experience was so worth it.

The cards are almost ready to go now. Everything is addressed save for one, and I just need to seal, stamp, and return-address label them. I'm thankful for this opportunity to look at my year in review while relaxing by the fireplace with my beloved nearby and my girl warm and snug in her bed. I am determined to savor everything good about this holiday season, and this was a great start.

Now & Later

2011-12-12T12:57:00.000-06:00

My world was rocked this weekend, and it didn't even happen to me.*

I spent much of Saturday in tears, trying to make sense of something that is senseless, and asking questions that are, at best, unanswerable.

It wasn't until I woke up Sunday morning, feeling just a tiny bit better about the whole thing, that I realized the only salve for profound emotional pain is time. Which sounds hokey but is so unbelievably true.

And this got me to wondering about the idea, the goal, of "living in the moment." I've written about that a lot in the past, mainly because my own life gets so busy and I get so caught up in where I need to be next and what I need to do next that I miss what's happening right in front of me. But what if the present moment is just so damn painful that you want to be anywhere but here, any time but in the present? When you know that in five years, you'll hurt way less than you hurt now. And you wish, with all your heart, that you could just blink your eyes and be there, five years later, with less pain.

I think this is why people drink. It temporarily numbs the pain. You drink and drink until you don't feel anything any more. The only problem is when you wake up the pain is still there, now accompanied by a hangover. So you drink again, to numb it again. Ah, so this is how people become alcoholics.

No, I didn't drink myself into a coma this weekend. I'm just saying I can understand why people do it. Why they fall for fleeting relief.

No, my drugs of choice are cleaning products and mad organizational skills. "Okay, I can't fix that, but I can make the bed and do laundry and put these clothes away and hang up this shirt and clean the litterbox and organize my desk..." I bury myself in straightening my environment when I can't straighten out the mess in my head, or fix what's hurting those I love most.

So there's this dichotomy. This desire to live fully in the present and experience everything that's happening right now, right here, because we get but one chance and each day lost is a day we can't get back. How does one balance that with the need for distance and time to just feel better?

I suspect this is one of those Great Unanswerable Questions. And I'm becoming more comfortable with the idea that sometimes there isn't an answer and that you just have to muddle through as best you can, and maybe do a little cleaning along the way.

*No, I will not disclose to whom it happened, nor what it was. I'm usually the girl who can find a silver lining in any situation, and I take great pride in that. There was no silver lining this weekend, though. Not that I can find right now anyway. It is what it is...a deep, dark hole the likes of which I hope I never personally experience, and which saddens my soul for those who do.

Someone reading this will know what its about, and to you, I can only say that I love you and I am here for you always. I can't fix your broken heart, but I can hold your hand while you mend. And I promise you that you will, indeed, mend.

Learning from China's Rats

2011-12-07T14:20:00.000-06:00

One of my favorite things to do is look at photographs. I know this comes as a huge surprise, but it's true.

Lately, I've been pretty caught up in images made by those I know. Friends made at Camp Shutter Sisters mostly, but also some old photo buddies and even family. The other night I decided to branch out and see what the fine people of VII have been up to.

Well, the first thing I discovered was that apparently I've been quite insulated from the Big World of Photography, as I didn't even know that James Nachtwey (one of my all-time favorites) left VII. This is huge, as Nachtwey was a founder of the agency back in 2001 with six other photographers. (M asked, "Are they calling themselves VI now?" Smartass.)

Anyway, after getting over that startling bit of info, I perused the various photo projects of VII and learned all kinds of new, and mostly discomforting, information.

One of the things that really popped out at me was a story done under the auspices of the VII Mentor program by Sim Chi Yin, titled "China's Rat Tribe." It's a glimpse into the lives of people living in tiny rooms two and three stories below Beijing. It was startling, to say the least. Many of these rooms are barely wide enough to fit a bed. They suffer from mold and mildew in the summer months. I read that "50 to 100 rooms often share a single bathroom and several toilet cubicles." The Chinese government is looking to shut down these basement and former air-raid-shelter dwellings in the name of safety, and the occupants are worried about finding other, affordable housing.

This story made me look around my comfortable bedroom with clothes strewn across the floor and over furniture, toys scattered around, and other various daily life accouterments; I felt a combination of gratitude and disgust.

Do we, as a family, really need all the stuff that is in our house? No, we don't. People a half a world away are living with a fraction of what we have in tiny basement closets.

Now, anyone who knows me knows that I am not a keeper-of-things. I'm a pitcher. I much prefer sparse simplicity to clutter. I renewed my personal vow that, with this move (this double-move, I should say), I will rid our house of everything that is not absolutely essential to our health and happiness. This is not to say that I'm going to throw out everything save for some clothes. We will keep things that have sentimental value, that remind us of places seen and memories made. M and I have an absolutely incredible collection of items purchased with thoughtfulness and care from around the world on our trips. Our Christmas tree is full of ornaments that evoke memories of new experiences (trout fishing at 5 a.m., riding bikes with M pulling Zoe in her little two-wheeled carrier, dinner in the southwest dessert with fresh guac prepared tableside, snowshoeing in Colorado). These things, these small, tangible objects that we selected to represent our lives, are worth keeping.

It's the other stuff that needs to go. Like the 90 pounds of wax that make up an inordinate amount of candles purchased years ago but never burned. Toys Zoe no longer plays with. Books I will never read again.

M found a local organization that takes stuffed animals, so several trash bags will disappear this weekend. He's sold a couple units from the old Christmas display on eBay, making me look at nearly everything in our home with a shopkeeper's eye. "When in doubt, throw it out" has taken on new meaning, new purpose.

Soon, I will pack everything we own, move it, store it, move it again, and unpack it. It damn well better be worth keeping to do all that.

Away in a Manger

2011-12-06T21:59:00.000-06:00

St. Nick's Day

2011-12-06T10:51:00.001-06:00

St. Nick stopped by last night for Zoe. I didn't say anything to her when she woke up, as I wanted to see if she'd notice. We didn't use her shoes, but opted for the stocking on the mantel.

After she dressed, she headed out to the kitchen to take her cereal bowl back and feed the cats. I was getting dressed in our bedroom when I heard her feet pounding down the hall. "Mommy! I have stuff in my stocking!" I explained that today is St. Nick's Day, and I guess he paid her a visit. The feet pounded away, and then she returned with one of her presents, an owl pen with blue LED eyes and a "hoooo hoooooooo!" call.

I love that she returned with each gift one by one, savoring the newness and the excitement, instead of just dumping everything out at once.

She danced around like a little imp, thrilled that St. Nick came. She talked to her elf, Henry, and laughed that she found him in yet another box of tissues. "Why does he keep sitting on the tissues?" I said maybe he likes them because they're soft. She thinks maybe he likes them because he sneezes a lot.

She is cracking me up these days, and I love seeing the world through her eyes. We've become big fans of The Wizard of Oz, which she's watched both at school and at home. She determined that bad witches are green, and good witches are "skin-colored," and that's how you can tell them apart. Because the maniacal laugh doesn't give it away at all.

This child, this little person who looks like both me and my best friend, who is both insanely creative and intensely analytical (also traits inherited from her parents), who is so empathetic and energetic...she blows me away. You'd think I'd be used to it after six years, but I'm continually surprised by my capacity to love, and to learn from her.

Everything is as it should be

2011-12-05T17:25:00.002-06:00

The universe knows. It just does. I'm convinced now more than ever, after this weekend.

We learned last week was that a major component of this year's addition to The Christmas Display would not be delivered in time. As many of you now know, we added a train this year. Not just a little choo choo that chugs around the track and looks good. We added a friggin' train. One that children can ride on. And adults. Many of them, all at once. It's really, really cool.

M has worked on this project for over five years. Five stinkin' years of painstaking research and planning. The man doesn't move quickly on projects half this size, so he really did his due diligence on this. Given the financial commitment, he wanted to be absolutely certain we were getting exactly what we wanted, and that it was a good value.

This year, we finally decided to pull the trigger. It was time to order the train. The locomotive and track came from one vendor, the cars from another. We wrote a bunch of checks and consulted calendars and arranged for help from the elves. The cars were done first; M and Dad drove north to pick them up with Dad's truck. They were then shuttled to a local powder coater here in STL that M found (also through a ton of research). The guy was great, and the cars were done quickly and looked phenomenal.

M started leaning on the other vendor, who started floating excuses. It was his busy season. His cost of materials went up. He was upside-down and we caught him between price changes. A bunch of malarkey is what it was. M continued to remind him of our deadline of December 3. The guy promised, "Next week...next week." Well, "next week" continued for about a month. He blew the first deadline and M rolled with it. Then he blew the second, and the third, and M started to panic. Frequent calls and emails, trying to push the guy into action from thousands of miles away. More excuses were floated. The welds weren't coating right. The steel had a defect. It was always something.

We got down to last week and really started flipping out. He had to ship it by Wednesday night for there to be any chance of making it here by Saturday, and even then we'd be cutting it close. And crossing our fingers that the damn thing worked right out of the crate.

Wednesday went by with no call from the vendor, no email. Thursday started ticking by...still nothing. I lost my shit several times and started making plans for an Internet jihad against the vendor. M kept cool, and talked me off the ledge. I kept thinking that maybe the guy figured out that he was about to royally blow it and was trucking it here himself. Nope. He shipped it Friday. The day before our big party. When there was absolutely no chance of it arriving in time.

M said, "Hey, look at it this way...if we were going to be missing something, I'd rather it be the locomotive. We have track, we have cars...we can always push/pull the kids around the track." I didn't see the glass as half full like he did. I saw it half empty with a hole in the bottom and several hundred pounds of steel and humans with no horsepower.

I really struggled with my feelings over this. I was so angry at this vendor. We had given him plenty of time (M built in a whole month for cushion, after all, and he still blew it). We had paid up front (and trust me, this thing wasn't cheap). There was no real excuse for the delay other than he. f*cked. up. Which is pretty unacceptable for me.

Last week I had a kindness club meeting. I tried to think of the man kindly, and found it damn near impossible. I searched for ways to try to get over it already, try to calm down. Intellectually, I knew this wasn't the end of the world and that in the grand scheme of things it was really nothing to be too worked up over. I watched how M dealt with it, and wondered how he could be so calm, when I wanted to call and ream this guy on his behalf. I was in full mama-bear mode: don't f*ck with someone I love. And that's exactly what this vendor had done. He let down my boy.

Finally, late Thursday, M got me to laughing. I can't even remember what he said, but it did the trick and before I knew it I felt much better. I resigned myself to having our show without the main attraction, and we set to work on changes.

Saturday night, with nearly 80 people standing in freezing cold between rain showers on our front sidewalk, I served as a locomotive and debuted our train (with Zozer as passenger) to our guests. I smiled as big as I could and let out a hearty "CHOO CHOOOOO!" as I pulled. And then I chugged a bit. I heard laughter, so hopefully my stint as a locomotive went over okay despite the fact that I've never taken any acting classes.

Then, after the show, the sky opened up and it began to rain again. And it didn't stop the rest of the night. Which meant that even if we had a locomotive, no one would have been out there to use it anyway. It was God and the universe saying, "S'okay, kid. Everything is workin' out just fine."

The party was a lot of fun, and while I'm sure people were disappointed that we didn't have the locomotive, it didn't keep them from having a good time. The house was packed, and drinks were flowing. The pool table was loaded down with food. I showed off my architect and our house plans. I heard laughter and saw lots of hugs. Most people promised to come back sometime this season and see the locomotive, which is now scheduled to be here tomorrow.

Looking back, we'll laugh about The Year the Locomotive Didn't Arrive, and remember all the really, really great stuff that happened despite its absence. My friends and family surrounded me and made me laugh, and reassured me that I'm loved and that no matter what, I won't fall, because they're all here to catch me.

Hopefully next time something happens, I'll remember this, and will be better equipped to handle it. Trust the process...trust that everything is unfolding exactly as it should, and that we are all exactly where we need to be right now.

Okay! Uncle!

2011-12-01T20:32:00.001-06:00

Dear Universe,

Just when I thought the day couldn't get worse, you took it to an all new level of suckitude. Thanks for that, because it's always good to know that yes, indeed, things can always get worse.

We'll start all over again tomorrow, 'kay?

Thanks,
Amy

Choosing to believe

2011-12-01T07:15:00.001-06:00

Some days, when it seems like it's impossible for anything to go right, when it seems the odds are stacked against you, when it seems as though, despite your best efforts, things are still f*cked up...some days you just gotta believe that it will all work out just fine. Even when it seems logistically impossible.

That's what I'm choosing to believe these days. After a night spent tossing and turning in bed, cursing one person in particular and plotting some good old fashioned Internet-style revenge, I've come to the conclusion that thinking that way doesn't help anyone. (Note, none of ya'all know this person of whom I write. In fact, I've never even met him. But he's negatively impacting my little family nonetheless. Can't go into great detail now...maybe next week.)

I liken it to the weather. People planning outdoor events and weddings and such seem to always freak out about the weather. I am pleased to say that I have never, ever gotten torqued about a weather prediction. Partly because a.) the weather clowns never get it right anyway, b.) where I live the weather can and usually does change rapidly, making any predictions futile, and c.) I can't do a damn thing about it. Mostly c. I mean, you can have a Plan B in place because of inclement weather, and that's always a good thing, but don't fret over it. Mother Nature is gonna have her way no matter how many times you check weather.com.

Same thing goes for the price of gas. I need gas to get through my everyday life (work, grocery shopping, etc.), and I can't do a damn thing about the price so I don't even pay attention. Folks get all worked up, and why? No one I know ever really changes their driving habits because of the price of gas. No one tells her boss, "I can't come in for a couple weeks until the price of gas goes back down." I find it interesting that when I bought my car in 1999 I could fill the tank for $18, whereas now it's just short of $50, but it doesn't really piss me off. It just is what it is.

So today, I'm applying my weather/gas principle to this one issue, this one thing that looms over what should be a pretty fantastic Saturday night. Since I can't control the man on whom something is depending, I'm just going to keep the faith that he'll come through. I'm holding on to the feeling that it will all work out. It has to.

Brave questions

2011-11-22T07:44:00.002-06:00

Some days I feel very, very brave. I've got it all under control. I'm handling everything, getting things done, being the person I want to be. Some days I feel not so brave. Things are starting to slip, I can't get anything done, and I'm not at all who I feel like being.

Isn't that life, though? Isn't part of living experiencing the ups and downs, and learning to navigate through both?

Overall, things are going remarkably well. My problems, such as they are, are pretty much exclusively first-world problems and I am very much aware of that, and of how fortunate I am. So I try to not complain too much when I feel things starting to crash a bit, or when I let my emotions go unchecked, or when five bad things happen in a row that nearly send me off the edge of Shitsville. I'm usually pretty good at this, and when I do slip, I pride myself on bouncing back quickly and moving on.

I'm writing this mostly to serve as a reminder the next time I feel like griping about something. It's a "note to self," so to speak.

I'm shooting a lot these days. The past week a little less so just because of being busy with work and it being dark when I get home. But the iPhone has been invaluable in keeping me connected to my art. I'm learning to say, "Yes, yes I am a photographer" when people ask. While I'm not a professional in the true sense of the word (I don't get paid to make images...well, not regularly anyway), I am still a photographer. Why I stumble over this I don't know. I make images every day. I share them with people. I'm half offended, half amused when people see my photographs and say, "Wow, you must have a really nice camera."

Why can I easily say, "These are my photographs," but I stumble over, "I'm a photographer." Ridiculous.

I'm trying to get over it, though. Slowly.

In the last week, I've had two people ask me to photograph their kids/family. I've had another ask, after viewing not only the kindergarten soccer images on my Flickr page but all my other (non-soccer) shots, "Holy cow...are all those yours?" And then upon receiving affirmation, espousing how much talent I appear to have. Several have asked if I'm a "professional." I got my Moo cards. People in my photography circles are posting all over the place about chasing dreams and doing what you love, etc. The Camp Shutter Sisters experience lingers, and pulses, barely below the surface.

And it feels like it's all adding up to a big sign, a big push from the universe, to maybe consider myself, and my work, in a different light. And see if I can do more with it, share it more, make it an even larger portion of my life.

I don't know. I've gone down this path before, and ran out of steam. Part of it has to do with fear. "Am I good enough?" is a biggie. Okay, it's more than big...it's f*cking huge. Part of it has to do with a sense of obligation to be a good corporate worker bee and use the MBA and continue making good money to provide for my child, my family, so we can live the wonderful life to which we've become quite accustomed. I toy with the idea of doing both. Working the corporate gig and dabbling in pro photography on the side. And then I think about how at the end of most work days I'm exhausted despite the personal to-do list that is never-ending, and how weekends seem to be jam-packed with social obligations and running my kid everywhere (I so love that she has such an active life, filled with friends and play dates and fun) and getting the damn house clean. Again. And I think, "No f*cking way can I take on anything else."

Don't get me wrong...I am in no way complaining about the lifestyle we have. It is so full and vibrant and filled with loving, nurturing relationships that half the time I want to pinch myself to see if it's all real. Most days I simply cannot believe I have built all this.

So I guess the question I'm really asking is, "Why do I feel like taking on something else?" Why do I think there might be more out there?

The only thing I'm really sure of is that I don't have any answers now, but I'm grateful that I'm at least asking the questions. One of these days/years/decades I'm bound to come up with something. Right?

1 & 2 of 30 (Gratitude Project)

2011-11-07T10:25:00.001-06:00

Day 2
Every morning I walk my daughter to school, and then I walk home. It's not far, but it's just long enough for me to walk past the huge line of cars and be thankful that I don't have to sit in it.

Day 1
I am so thankful that I have the opportunity to design and build my dream home, and with my best friend to boot. We are in the design stage and while I realize that the road ahead will be fraught with stress and detours and speed bumps and even a fender-bender or two, I'm looking forward to growing and learning and loving and creating the life I want to live.

(The image that went with this is the one of the house plans below. I just wanted to be sure I captured the text from the 30 Days of Gratitude submission on Flickr, to go with the others I'm posting here.)

6 of 30 (Gratitude Project)

2011-11-06T22:03:00.001-06:00

Waiting for mass to start and we were both bored. I looked around at the architecture (we were not in our church so there were new things to observe) and whispered to my husband, "Do you think it'd be okay if I did some Instagrams while we're waiting?" He scowled a proper Catholic scowl and said, "You need to find something to keep yourself amused that isn't so obvious!" He looked away, Zoe and I looked at each other, and out came the iPhone. We used the front camera and held it down in our lap so no one could see. An unintended bonus was the flare we caught off the spotlights high above. I'm pretty sure we gave ourselves away after we started making funny faces and cracking ourselves up, which is when I got the sharp elbow from hubby. That only made us laugh harder.

Then the music began to play and the iPhone was tucked away and we snuggled, happy as two peas in a pod.

Today I'm grateful to have a partner in crime.

Note: Yeah, this is Day 6. I do have days 1-5, but I haven't gotten around to boosting them from Flickr to here. Hang tight...they're coming.

I'm not really gone, I'm just hanging out somewhere else

2011-11-05T21:18:00.001-05:00

While it may seem as though I've been dormant (lazy) (absent) (quiet) (invisible), the truth is that I've only been those things here.

My on-line world has exploded since Camp, and I've been participating in a lot of other forums (fora?) with other photographers. Facebook (private group), Flickr, Instagram...

I've also been a shooting maniac, although mostly for others. I'm still capturing Zoe's soccer games, but I've also done a Halloween party, a play, and today, a football game. Most nights are spent editing, and it has been really, really great. I'm hanging out at Flickr a lot, so if you want to see more of my stuff you can check me out there (my username is the first letter of my first name, followed by my whole last name - yeah, I know, not so creative). All my work that involves children, or rather, other people's children, is marked as private, but I can send you a guest pass if you want. And if I know you and know you're not some pervy freak.

One of my groups on Flickr is a 30 Days of Gratitude project. Every day participants submit an image showing something for which we are grateful. It can be a new image shot that day, or an old one from your archives. You can write about it, or not. You can even skip a day if you want. In other words, there are no rules and that's appealing to someone who is living daily life under multiple deadlines. I've posted every day so far, and am using this as a trial run for a possible 365 in 2012. It takes a lot to commit to creating a photograph every day for a year, and I'm not entirely sure I'm up for it. Especially since we'll be doing things like moving out of our home, wrecking it, rebuilding it, then moving back. Then again, this might be the perfect year to document our daily life and the huge changes we're making.

Anyway, I've been thinking that perhaps I should share my 30 Days project here, and not just confine it to Flickr. I've been writing a graph or two for each one, which is what I typically do here, so I may as well kill two birds with one stone.

In other news, Zoe's soccer team won their game today, and her BFF scored their two goals. M has been hard at work on Christmas, and not only will this year completely blow everyone's minds, but it all seems to be going remarkably well (fingers crossed this continues after the multiple debacles of last year). Meeting with the architect again Tuesday afternoon. I've got a fire in the fireplace, two snoozing cats nearby, a husband with multiple hand tools and wires and other electrical paraphernalia hanging out on the other couch, a clean daughter sound asleep for the night, and a shitload of new images to edit.

Life. is. good.

Here we go...

2011-11-01T12:18:00.001-05:00

Friday night, while watching Game 7 of the World Series at M's grandma's, I checked my phone for messages. There was an e-mail from our architect. With attachments. My heart started pounding...here were the first drafts of our new home's layout. I downloaded the PDFs and waited for them to load, then tried to read house plans for an approximately 2,500 sq ft residence on an iPhone screen. After I got a general idea, I silently handed the phone to M, who looked at me quizzically before squinting at the screen himself. "Oh!" His face lit up and we beamed at each other.

That night, or rather, early the next morning when we got home, we printed the plans and looked some more. Even though we were both exhausted, we couldn't help it. We batted around a few things, then set down the plans and went to sleep. Saturday and Sunday, we'd pick them up as we passed by, not spending too much time on any one thing but just letting them marinate. Since we had a meeting with the architect scheduled for Monday, Sunday night we sat down with the plans, a pencil, a tape measure and a calculator, and got to work. There wasn't much to do, but we jiggered around the pantry, guest bath, bill desk, shoe rack and coat closet, and made a small addition that attached my darkroom to the main portion of the house (the door had been located off the garage). We measured some furniture, re-mapped the finished basement, and wrote down our list of questions.

Yesterday at our meeting, our architect seemed surprised that we had very few changes and even fewer questions. We believe this was a result of two things: 1.) he had actually listened to us at our first two meetings, and 2.) we have very firm ideas of what we want and don't want and were able to give pretty explicit directions. We were thrilled by solutions he offered. I feel that our choice to retain an architect, and especially this architect, was validated. It's nice to say, "We have this problem, this need...fix it." and have that actually happen. He also knows us well enough to suggest things we had never dreamed of, but after he proposes them they make so much sense we wonder how we never thought of it.

We busted through the floor plans, working room by room from North to South. Then we started talking about the roofline, and Mike (our architect, not to be confused with M, my hubby) said, "Oh, I have some rough sketches to show you." He rummaged through his portfolio and pulled out three papers with colored ink. My heart skipped a beat. This was our very first look at what our new home will look like, what others will see as they drive down our street, what our friends and family will see when they come to visit. What we will come home to after a hard day at work, a business trip, vacation, soccer games and school plays and birthday parties. He flipped through them, deciding which to show first, second and third. I jiggled impatiently. He decided to show us the options in the order in which he had created them.

The first went down on the table and I nearly leapt out of my chair with excitement. It was wonderful. He had added a feature that I had never thought of, but which replaced my original idea with more style, function and practicality. Unfortunately, it also had gables. M and I agree that we will not have gables on our dream home. We have them now, and we hate 'em. We didn't say anything at the time, reserving our opinions until all three were shown. Option 2 came out and it was even better. No gables, and a more distinctive design.

Option 3 went down. Holy crap. That was It. At least in my mind. "M will never go for it," I thought. "He won't like any of these rooflines as they are too radical, and we're gonna have to start over." Internally, I started talking myself into a traditional hip roof immediately. We moved the pages around so we could see all three options at the same time. M said, "I know which one I like, no doubts." I was surprised he had no real changes. We both immediately threw out Option 1 for the gables, and Mike looked at us in amazement again. I don't think he's used to working with clients who are both decisive and who agree with each other so readily. Then M said to me, "Which one do you like? I have my favorite, but I want to hear what you think." Deep breath.

"I love Option 3."
"Me, too."

Mike beamed. "Really? It's my favorite, too!"

It was reminiscent of the day Zoe was born, when we had decided to wait and meet her, see what she looked like, to choose her name. We had a couple names on the list and were keeping our options open beyond that, because we couldn't really settle until we met her. After the c-section, M was over with the nurses watching while they tended to her. I remember asking several times, "What does she look like? What's her name?!" M came back to me with a nurse holding Zoe all wrapped up. "I know what she looks like. I want to hear what you think." The nurse laid her on my chest and I looked down into her beautiful little face through eyes flooding with tears and whispered, "She looks like Zoe Grace." And M, with tears in his own eyes, said, "That's what I think, too."

These are the moments when I realize just how lucky I am to be married to my best friend. Someone so compatible that when it comes to the really big decisions in life, the really huge things, we always agree. (That is not to say we agree on everything - oh boy, do we not!) But when it comes to things that could end up being a real battle - things like what our new, custom home will look like - we are perfectly in sync.

We wrapped up our meeting by creating a list of things to get to Mike (mostly furniture dimensions) and things to research (what the hell is "cultured stone" anyway? and yes, we do prefer Roman brick) and agreed to meet again in about a week. It's time to get some general contractor rough bids, and start work on true building plans.

Mike left and we looked at each other. I can't speak for what M was feeling, only how I felt. Excited and anxious and pleased and nervous and grateful and scared. All in the best possible way. I think he felt the same, or close to it. He practically vibrated with energy, and I think he'd have taken a sledge to an interior wall to start the demo if I'd let him.

Lots to do in the months again, in addition to our normal holiday hustle and bustle. Cleaning out, organizing and packing. Selecting a general contractor and working on permits for demo and build. Making sure we have a place to live, and that all our belongings are there, before the wrecking ball comes to visit.

To quote an amazing woman I met in person recently, "I don't know what it's going to be, but I know it's going to be awesome." I am learning to trust the universe, that everything unfolds exactly as it should. I started thinking this way sometime last year, and I'll be darned if it isn't working. I know this process will be hard, but I also know we'll get through it and learn and grow and continue to love and create the life we want. And I really don't think it can get any more awesome than that.

Post-Camp Post: an attempt

2011-10-24T07:34:00.022-05:00

I've had a few people email me and ask about Camp Shutter Sisters, and those I've met in person have all asked. So maybe it's about time I try to put my feelings into words about this experience. Which is hard because the feelings run deep and strong, and I find myself at a loss for words (which is very, very rare for me).

The easy way to answer, "What was it?" is to say that it was a women's photography workshop. But that doesn't even begin to scratch the surface.

I can't remember now what I expected before I went. I'm not sure I had even set up any hard expectations as I was extremely busy with work in the months leading up to it, and found that I hadn't thought about it much at all before beginning to pack a few days before. I was so caught up in work and Zoe and planning for a new home (and all the other stuff that pops up in daily life) that I would find myself pleasantly surprised to remember, "I get to go to that thing!"

We have a private Facebook page for the Campers, set up so we could "meet" each other before arriving at Asilomar. We had lots of fun there, and plans were made for pick-ups and rides and sharing rental cars and finding rooms in Monterey the night before Camp officially started. But it's one thing to communicate on-line via an open forum and another to actually meet people live, face-to-face (and in our case, lens-to-lens).

I considered getting into the details of my trip (I arrived at this time, and was picked up at this time, etc.), but that's really not important compared to what happened at a much deeper level.

And that's what I'm struggling to put into words.

Hmmmm.

I went into this with a completely open heart and willing spirit. It turns out that every single one of my fellow Campers did the same. As a result, we were all welcoming and welcomed, loving and loved, seeing and seen. It sounds crazy, but it was like being suddenly plunked down into the middle of 70 (yes, seventy - 7dash0) of the best friends you'll ever have. Instafamily.

I tried my hardest to absorb every single second of my time there. It was magical. I felt every atom of my being vibrating with energy and connection. I learned so much, far more than I contributed, and gained not only hard photography knowledge but a new way of seeing the world. We spoke about shooting through a lens of gratitude, of looking with love. We shared stories and lenses and tips and tricks and everything we had. It was the best sort of community - one that felt like it was created specifically for me.

Several of my Camp sisters have done a far better job of explaining this. I should just shut up and link to their posts. There are many out there now, and more continue to be posted each day, but for brevity I'll ask you to read this one. I first read this in the car Friday night on the way to our friends' wedding in Indianapolis. I bawled. When I finally got myself together, I read it to M. I wondered how he would take it. It's hard to tell your husband that while you absolutely love your life as a mother and as a wife, it's not enough. He listened quietly, and even though I choked up while reading it, I got through it and waited anxiously to hear his response.

"Wow," he said reverently. "When is the next Camp?"

And I burst into tears all over. I had just essentially opened my soul to him and he not only fully accepted me, but encouraged me to continue pursing whatever it is I need to feel fully alive.

This experience is not something that ended Wednesday, October 19 at 11:05 a.m. when I went wheels up over Monterey. This is something that continues to grow, to flourish, to change how I view myself, my relationships, my photography. I am forever a different person, and in good way.

In keeping with the spirit of Camp and the idea of putting things out there into the universe and trusting the process, I share what I'm truly feeling. It feels a bit like I'm standing here naked, but I'm learning that with stretching boundaries and the accompanying uncomfortable feelings, comes power.

Me, seen by the amazing Cyndy Bresden

I struggle with permission to be truly myself. I struggle with the idea that it's okay to take time for myself. It feels selfish. I'm not sure if that's from my innate desire to please others or if it's part of my essential femaleness (so many of us fall into this trap) or if it's this sense that what I need simply doesn't matter compared to what others need. But perhaps the most important thing I learned at Camp is that not only is it okay to be truly myself and make time for what makes me feel alive (photography), it's required. In other words, if I don't ensure that I have ample time to look for, create, and process images, I will not be all the way alive. I will be a shadow of myself. I do not want my daughter to be mothered by a shadow, nor my husband to be married to one. I want them both to see me as 100% me, and in turn feel okay to be 100% themselves.

The other thing I'm gonna throw out here is gratitude. Thank you to Tracey Clark and the Shutter Sisters, and thank you to my Camp sisters for creating a whole new universe and way of seeing for me. Thank you to my family for supporting my desire to continue to grow and learn and find myself. Thank you to my friends for accepting me, flaws and all.

I am so incredibly lucky to be alive in the very best world: mine.

Wedding weekend

2011-10-23T10:24:00.001-05:00

Road trip to Indy to celebrate the wedding of an old friend. Congratulations Chris and Ann!

Sweet Darkness

2011-10-18T15:02:00.001-05:00

When your eyes are tired
the world is tired also.

When your vision has gone
no part of the world can find you.

Time to go into the dark
where the night has eyes
to recognize its own.

There you can be sure
you are not beyond love.

The dark will be your womb
tonight.

The night will give you a horizon
further than you can see.

You must learn one thing,
the world was made to be free in.

Give up all the other worlds
except the one to which you belong.

Sometimes it takes darkness and
the sweet confinement of your
aloneness to learn

anything or anyone
that does not bring you alive

is too small for you.

-David Whyte from "The House of Belonging"

First full day of Camp

2011-10-18T00:56:00.001-05:00

Today was so full, and so incredible, that it will take me a long time to process it and share it. Or maybe I will never share it. Not all of it, anyway. Some things are just meant to be taken in, digested, and then tucked away in the heart forever.

Lots of photography, in addition to all the touchy-feely warm & fuzzies.

I keep thinking how lucky I am to be here, and how lucky I am to have an awesome husband who encouraged me to go, gave me his frequent flyer miles to get here, arranged my travel, re-arranged my travel, and is single-parenting for a few days without complaint. I get these little e-mails from him daily with a photograph of him and Zoe and a few words expressing love. My heart sings!

Tomorrow promises another busy day, and it starts with a 6:30 a.m. trip to the beach to catch the gorgeous morning light. I hope the fog rolls back out before then. And I hope I get enough sleep before then!

LAX to MRY

2011-10-15T23:09:00.002-05:00

45-minute flight up the coast in a weensy plane.
My first glimpse of the Pacific this trip. Love!

Waiting to leave STL

2011-10-15T23:07:00.003-05:00

It's a photography trip, so we're all documenting our journey to meet. It's awesome to think of all these like-minded women coming together. So very cool.

Why it's so hard to leave

2011-10-15T23:04:00.003-05:00

I'm not sure which one of us was more upset at the airport. I couldn't help but think, "What the f*ck am I doing?!"
I told her that when she gets older, she'll go with me on trips like this. I can only hope she'll still want to.

And...I'm off!

2011-10-15T10:09:00.001-05:00

I'm packed (mostly) and my gear is stowed (all of it) and I'm getting ready to leave for the airport in about an hour. I'm going here, to do this.

It's 70 women photographers, many of us mothers, converging in one location to photograph and learn and share. It sold out in less than 15 minutes, so I feel incredibly fortunate to have one of the slots. This is the first year for it, and I think while all of us are extremely excited, none of us know exactly what to expect.

The organizers were wise and created a private Facebook page for us to get to know each other before camp. We've had so much fun sharing there that I can't wait to meet all my new friends in person. Women who have never met before in person have arranged to meet up at airports, share rental cars, pick strangers up and take them to camp. Ten years ago I'd be completely freaked about doing something like this. I'd have most likely passed up an incredible opportunity and just stayed home. Now, I can't wait to meet the two women who are picking me up at the Monterey airport tonight. We're going to dinner, then crashing at a local motel with a lot of the other campers as the event doesn't formally start until tomorrow afternoon.

While I'm thrilled to go, there is a part of me that is anxious. It's so hard to leave my little family, even for a few days. Zozer and I are getting in some last-minute snuggles, which I tell myself will last for the next four days until I see her again but which I know is not true. Nothing replaces the feeling of being with your child.

So I'm off, and I'll definitely be making iPhone photographs and hopefully remembering to post them here. And since I'm taking the laptop and the facility offers wifi, I just might get in some "real" blogging time.

Then again, I just may be having too much fun to write.

Emma waits

2011-10-12T00:40:00.001-05:00

New photography software + insomnia = lots of blog posts

Am so in love with my new Lightroom software that why don't I marry it. Blissed out at the iMac tonight. Or rather, this morning.

Got this image of my niece Emma while we were waiting for her big brother to come by in his school parade. She kept hearing the sirens of the fire engine, and at one point just started ambling down the sidewalk by herself. The pink shirt against the fall leaves...I couldn't resist.

Must go to sleep to avoid zombieness in the morning. Too late, probably, but I should at least attempt it.

Can't sleep...so I edit

2011-10-12T00:18:00.001-05:00

Thought I'd work on a few photos since my eyes won't stay closed.

Zozer and I went to my nephew's school carnival last weekend. I always love the bright gaudiness of a carnival. It's like the whole world pops in hyper-saturation, and even amidst all the chaos, there is order...patterns. And you know how I loves me some good patterns. Or patterens as Zoe calls them.

A state of readiness

2011-10-11T20:40:00.001-05:00

I was on fire today. No, not literally. None of my body parts was physically engulfed in flames. I just mean I was on fire. Highly productive.

I woke up to an iPhone jammed with increasingly frantic e-mails bouncing between Lenexa, KS, New York, and France over an industry publication article that was hitting the press shortly and was rife with errors. Oh, boy.

I hit the ground running at about 6:45 and didn't really stop until I left the house at 4:40 to walk up to Zozer's school. Yes, I worked from home. That's what happens when you forget to bathe and apply make-up.

It was a very good day in that I got a lot done, and a lot crossed off the ol' task list that is never-ending. I also managed to think ahead enough to realize that I would have no time to shop for a wedding gift for the blessed event that is taking place a week from Saturday in Indianapolis (road trip!) and that I better get that done now. Like, today. So my busy work day bled into a busy evening with a trip to Bed, Bath & Beyond (who managed to mess up our transaction so bad that they ended up ordering our gift and giving us free shipping to have it sent directly to the bride and groom - good people, those BB&Bers) and Wal-Mart because Zoe asked plaintively this morning, "Mommy? Can we please go get me some more toothpaste today?" Apparently she's fed up with having to ask me for assistance in getting the last little bit out of the tube twice daily.

It was also a good day in that my child made the most awesome artwork...a portrait of our very own Hootie Jefferson.

She wrote his full name on the back, sounding it out herself. Apparently I've been spelling "Jefferson" wrong all these months. It's actually Gefrsen. That's his middle name, by the way. He shares our family name.

My California trip approaches (I leave Saturday morning), and I'm working my ass off to make sure that when my plane's wheels leave the tarmac, I'm able to also leave all my normal, everyday worries and anxieties and task lists behind on the ground. Because this trip is a chance of a lifetime, a bucket list check-off, and I want to enjoy every. single. second. So the bills have been paid, Zoe's school stuff wrapped up with a neat, tidy bow, laundry is scheduled to be completed Thursday night/Friday, the wedding gift purchased, all events have been RSVPd, soccer photos edited and uploaded...I'm getting there.

This explains why I've been rather absent from Latent Images lately. With my regards, I offer you this. Read, and be enlightened. (This is where M clicks the link, smacks his head, and says, "Where did I find you?")

Well...damn

2011-10-05T20:24:00.001-05:00

My very first computer was an Apple IIe. I got it in high school and it was The Shit. I could play games on it, and write my homework papers on it. And I could shove a big ol' giant five-inch floppy disk in the drive and save my stuff forever.

Because so many computers can read a five-inch floppy these days.

In college, once I transitioned from the pc-engineering life into the j-school, I went back to Apple. Macs, to be specific. The World's Finest School of Journalism offered its students the "Mac Lab." Countless hours spent there doing homework I couldn't finish on my good ol' 486 pc.

Then I entered The Working World, where everyone but designers and photographers used a pc. I got used to the Blue Screen of Death. I got used to freezes and computers that wouldn't turn off until you unplugged the damn things. I got used to big, bulky, black or cream-colored behemoths that looked like some old and crusty computer crank put it together.

A decade later, I was back into photography, and I had gone to the Dark Side (digital). Which meant I needed a computer. After years and years of growing comfortable with pc, with learning the systems inside and out, with knowing how to trouble-shoot and problem-solve on my own, I demanded a return to Mac.

My trusty Mac G5 tower served me faithfully. Sometimes I'd overload it with a giant image file or it'd hit a webpage it didn't like and the little color wheel would spin round, but it happened so rarely that I didn't think anything of it. I loved my Mac.

I loved it so much that I filled it up. Plum ran out of memory. We went to look at inserting more memory, learned just how "vintage" it was, and I upgraded to a gorgeous huge iMac. On which I type now. Next to me sits my iPhone4, which is such an integral part of everyday life that I have sworn that I will never, ever not have an iPhone if I can help it. In my backpack is stowed a Macbook that my work purchased for me upon request (because my company is that cool). Basically, I have an Apple product at my side nearly every moment of every day.

I think that what Apple has done, besides all the innovation (did you know Apple invented the first mouse?) and cool gadgetry, is taught us that technology can be beautiful. That form is just as important as, and maybe even contributes to, function. If you have to be surrounded by, and use, something every single day, isn't it better when it's elegant? And just freakin' works?

Apple said today, "The world is immeasurably better because of Steve."

Amen.

Highs...and one low-down dirty move

2011-10-03T14:52:00.001-05:00

Holy weekend fun! We had a photo walk, a photography garage sale, a football game, and a bonfire / hayride - and that was just Saturday. (Somehow in there I managed to also get the house vacuumed, although the vacuum still lingers in the hallway so I suppose that project isn't quite completely finished.) Sunday brought mass, a trip to the pumpkin patch, a soccer game, and a roast beef/potato pancake dinner. (Somehow in there M managed to also get some work done for the Christmas display - we're quite industrious!)

The camera went with me for all this, but I obviously haven't had time to process all the images. I did get Zoe's game shots done, including this one:

Zozer had possession of the ball on a breakaway, and was trucking down the field while our sidelines went crazy. "Go Zo Go Zo Go Zo Goooooooo!" The girl was on a mission, and she was getting ready to make her shot when #7 from the other team took. her. down.

Holy crap. Her shoe came off and she was pulled down and then #7 mowed her over.

I like to think of myself as an open-minded, Christian woman. I try to not judge others, and I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt. I'm reading a book on kindness right now that is seriously changing my view of the world. At this moment, though, seeing my girl prone on the field, missing a shoe, I was seriously ready to lose my shit on a kindergartner.

I snapped off a couple more frames, and then lowered the camera to watch my husband kneel over my daughter. He scooped her up and turned to face us. I ditched the camera and ran across the field, taking a sobbing Zoe and her shoe in my arms. I needed to get her off the field, both for her sake and the team's.

The ref saw everything, or at least saw the fury on M's face, and I noticed while comforting Zo that her team was lining up for a penalty kick. We flubbed it, but I didn't care - I just liked that the unnecessary roughness was acknowledged and the other team penalized.

I had to explain what a penalty kick was, and why they were doing it. "Mommy, did someone from the orange team pull me down? Or was it someone on our team?" "It was the orange team, honey, and she shouldn't have done that. That's why our team gets a penalty kick." "Oh. That was rude!" I can think of a few other words for it, but yeah, let's go with rude.

I got Zoe calmed down and we were getting her shoe back on when M returned. "Is she ready to go?" And off she went. I'm proud that she shook it off and got right back in the game, and was laughing again within minutes. All in all, it was a great game. Our girls are really starting to play soccer (as opposed to just running around on the field chasing a ball and doing cartwheels, although rest assured there was still some of that) and have fun doing it. M said later that instead of having six girls all asking for a sub, this game he had girls refusing to leave the field to give others a chance to play. And he said he's starting to hear chatter on the field. Game-related chatter ("Go Anna!") as opposed to non-game ("Hey! Look at all the different color ponytail holders I have!").

When we scored our first goal - Ava G. on a breakaway - I was so excited that not only did I not photograph it, I burst into tears. I am so proud of our girls, all of them. They've been working so hard and this goal was a long time in coming and hard fought.

This weekend was amazing on so many different levels. Friends and family and love and memories. Really, how could it get any better?

Good day to fly

2011-09-27T09:39:00.001-05:00

Off to New Jersey. Seat near the front. Window. No one next to me. Starbucks in belly. It's a good day to fly.
(Trying not to miss my bug and my hub.) (Failing miserably.)

Soccer Soccer Soccer

2011-09-25T23:55:00.001-05:00

I'm as surprised as anyone that I'm totally digging this Soccer Mom role. But digging it I am.

I've also become the de facto team photographer. I see the other moms with their little point & shoots with the crappy zooms and the slow shutter speeds and the delay and I think, "No way, man. Someone's gotta get this decently. It's too good to not capture!" What began as an effort to get some shots of my kid playing has evolved into a mission to get good images of every girl on our team playing.

Since most of ya'all only care about seeing pix of Zozer, though, that's what I'll post here. A little sampling.

It's seriously eating into my free time, though. Tonight I reviewed the 728 images I shot at today's game alone, and edited 102 for posting to my secure Flickr account. Yesterday I took 701 shots and wound up with 77 to share. (Game yesterday the reschedule from being rained out last Sunday.)

I hope we don't have any more two-game weekends. Holy smokes. I didn't even play and I'm tired!