For Want Of A Subject

There's a downside to having allowed your photos taken over the last six weeks or so pile up into a huge conglomeration of . . . .editing material:  where to start.

I must say, I'm not so talented at shchlogging through the "oldies" to find those gems once again - but I'm on task, and giving it my best effort!  :D

Secondly, there's a challenge to keep ones' blog-writing material fresh when one is living with only *two* of her family members, temporarily, namely, The Boys.  I mean, how many air-tosses can one take, before they move on to better blog waters?

I dunno, but here's to tryin' . . .

And, for you nurturing, emotive mommas out there ~ a moment ~ brought to you fresh at ChoiceCentral:

Yup.  That's me.  Lookin' for fresh material . . .

:rotflol:

A Day In The Sun

Nothing spell spring better than a Sunday afternoon walk in a nature preserve ~ complete with strawberries and ice cream!  As our good friend Nancy visits this weekend, we have been enjoying a number of out-of-door activities.  

Close on the heels of teaching Keller about turtles that live in the ocean, we discovered a wonderful pool of waters that housed numerous turtles, all ready to munch on turtle food supplied by the Arboretum.

The day was nothing short of perfect, and since we live in normally-hot-and-humid-Mississippi, this was good.  :)  Enjoy a moment of  repose along with us, as we take in God's beautiful green earth.  :)

 

  

Veggie Tales, Revised.

I can hear LarryBoy singing in my mind:

Oh, where is my hairbrush?

Oh where is my hairbrush?

Oh where, oh where, o where, oh where, oh where . . .

Is my hairbrush?

I switched my photo storage in September of this year, thanks to a wonderful gift from my Mom. The ensuing reorganization has caused me a bit of a snag, in that, I now have to scroll through two 'storage sheds' of photographs in order to find what I'm looking for.

I organize my photos in a monthly schematic, a method I learned from my ever-organized husband. In the new year, I'll be using the new system, and two 'storage sheds' will no longer be an issue. Yet here's the deal: I discovered that in switching to the new system, I've used my camera less and less . . .

Egads! What's up with that?

I mean, if anything, my new system should account for greater camera usage, not less!

So today, a new refrain on an old favorite children's song ensues:

Oh, where is my camera?

Oh where is my camera?

Oh where, oh where, o where, oh where, oh where . . .

Is my camera?

I'll find it, and reactivate the photographer within! :)

Quality Comedy

I've an-almost-17-year-old daughter. Need I say anything more about the preening and posing that goes on in front of the mirrors in our home? The camera?

On the opposite end of the spectrum, I've a two year old who is showing signs of being "con-aye" (a Cajun term I've no idea how to spell!) or, quite the little humorist. Clever, comedic, and at-the-ready with a little physical joking pose so as to further press his point.

Put these two force of nature together, and what do you get? Quality Time meets Comedy Boy.

It just doesn't get any better, does it? :D

My Life As A Caricature

It's rather fitting, really - the caricature depicting the love of my life and I - since my life seems to be on an exaggerated, careening trip into the summer months.


But hey ~ isn't that generally how I like it? A little on the wild side, with a dash of excitement, a pinch of suspense, and a splash of adventure?

Gone, it seems, are the languishing moments of a hibernated winter. It's time to get up and at 'em people!

For today, a fun survey:

In the above pictured caricature of the GilGuy and I, how would you respond to the following:

• Does it capture 'us' as a couple?


• Resemble each of us as an individual?


• Does the GilGuy still look like Richard Dreyfus?


• Do I look like Mary Tyler Moore?

Have fun at my expense today, Choosers. You know I can take it. :D

Nesting.

An uncharacteristically chilly morning greeted the DellDog and I yesterday, as we set out on a potty break. The air was so brisk that I made a command decision to utilize the quick, close-by standard spot, as opposed to our leisurely walk through the woods.

Dell was motivated to move quickly as well [for entirely different reasons] and he chose the tree nearest the driveway as his resort du jour. I stood hugging my body close, ready at the first opportunity to dash back into the warmth of indoors.

Suddenly, without warning, a loud whoosh of flapping wings skimmed the top of my head! An angry momma bird, letting me know I'd entered her territory ~ and I'd better watch out!

I was stunned.

The little bird house that the Israeliboy had made many years ago was her landing pad, and quickly the sound of little chirps from within began a cresendo of demands for food.

I was tickled.

The day progressed, and then waned into one of the most beautiful evenings we've had in southern Mississippi for some time. Taking advantage of the weather, the entire family ventured out of doors, I with my camera, hoping for a glimpse of the nesting Momma.

She didn't disappoint.

We're still discussing what breed she might be. Does anyone recognize her breed?From House Finch to Crested Nutbrown, and several thoughts in between, she remains an enigma.

A beautiful one, though, as she nurtures her littles in the Little House On The Tree.

The Rose of San Antoine

A recent conversation with a friend gave me pause to take a stroll down memory lane, revisiting the celebration of our first anniversary. The GilGuy had steathily made preparations to wisk me away, far from day to day routine, and put us in touch with nature. He did this, of course, with my greatest passion at the forefront: he booked a secluded cabin for us at the base of the Texas Hill country, at an equestrian center, not far from San Antoinio.

I couldn't have asked for a better retreat, a more loving gesture on my husband's part, a more memorable week. In scrolling through the photos, I found I had forgotten about the roses. They were in the cabin, awaiting our arrival. Gil had them delivered hours before we arrived.

As I look back and ponder the majestic vistas we saw from the vantage of horseback, I cannot help but be cast once again under the spell of my husband's tender loving care for me all of these years.

I know not what this year holds; what travels we will meet; what adventures will transpire . . .

I am certain, however, that with the GilGuy by my side, I'll not lack for the sense of being cherished and held as a precious vessel.

The Rose of San Antoine? I think I'll change that to The Rose of The Mississip -and bask in the knowledge of his love for me.

:D

He's Not Heavy ~

He's my brother.

My Mom Wants In On The Act.

She secretly desires a blog of her very own.

I know it.

She knows it.

She's denying her Inner Blogger, and trying to live vicariously through me.

How do I know? She sent me her latest photog captures from Spearfish Canyon, SD. Those pics are on display here today at ChoiceCentral.

My Mom will be retiring soon. A career that has spanned 22 years. A career that began out of hardship and trail, difficulty and tough decisions.

My Mom was a stay-at-home-mom. She made me tea and toast. She nurtured me in an environment that taught me to think for myself, to self-educate, to love others and give them grace. I love the example she set forth for me.

I had just graduated when she was plunged into single parenthood, and had to become the breadwinner with my sister still at home. She took the low paying job because it put food on the table. She moved because it meant she could take the low paying job.

But my Mom was honorable.

She was and is of noble character. So the Lord honored her faithfulness and steadfast ways by opening up a position that gave her freedom of movement financially. A job that allowed her to gain and grow assets, not simply survive.

I've always been impressed with my Mom.

She's got guts and determination; an honest and sincere heart.

She's got lots of wisdom to share. Plenty of funny things to say. Experience to glean from. But she doesn't realize that others might like to, would be interested in, or would be benefitted by hearing it.

So today, Choosers, a vote.

Please respond by leaving a comment to this end:

1. Should my Mom start a blog of her very own? Yes or No

2. Should my Mom feel loved? Yes or No

Thanks for affirming her today, Gang.

You know she wants in on the act.

:D

Energized.

Blase` would be a fitting descriptor, if one were to describe what my life has been like the past few days, bereft of power to my beloved Canon.

Due to the nature of circumstances at large lately, I hadn't really noticed that I was missing my digital device. I was too focused on big, relational issues and the presenting of myself before the Lord - with petition upon my lips in intercession on behalf of others.

All that changed late afternoon yesterday, when, on our soggy return trip from an impromptu visit to the pool, I looked up at the tender tree stoically standing beside the sidewalk.

I was. stunned.

Vibrant color resonated in shouts of life: creams, golden flecks, burnished browns, and tender tans all drew me in to the beautiful, majestical cloak of bark wrapped around the arteries of of life within.

It was then that my senses were awakened to the fact that I had absolutely no way to record my findings, except to etch them on the sketch pad of my mind.

I must. get. batteries!

So, off to the store we went.

I, now properly endowed with all photographical power to the forth degree, am once again prepared to encapsulate vistages of my travels, loved ones, and experiences. Not only for myself, but for you. My ChoiceCentral readership at large.

Today, celebrate.

Sad Boy. Smart Boy. Popeye The Sailor Man.

Instinctively I was drawn to one particular photographer out of a short list of potentials prior to arriving in California. Gil, willing to follow my lead on this task, contacted him, and soon, we were wisked into his studio environment.

I knew immediately we had made the right choice.

When we returned for Session 2, we had a task list. Present for character roles, i.e. pitiful boy who has just lost his dog; preppy smart kid cheesing for president of the student council; back street boy, tough and tumble, and the like.

I couldn't be more pleased! Would you like to see?

Choosers! Take your stations! Prepare your keyboards! It's time to vote for your favorite in the comments section! Then, tomorrow, the announcing of the Top Pick for each category ~ and . . .a blog giveaway!

Here are the categorical choices:

1. Regular kid:



2. Sad Boy:



3. Smart Boy:

While Keller and I waited patiently, watching all the proceedings quietly in the background, the photographer took an interest in L'il Man. A few quick shots produced a capture of this little guy to a T! So, for fun, vote your favorite here:

4. L'il Man:

Doesn't your heart just melt? Or is it just me?

Nah. I saw that . . .your heart just melted like a schoolgirl! I know it ~ don't deny it!

LOL

A recap: Vote for one picture (1, 2, or 3, respectively) in each category (Reg, Sad, Smart and Lil Man) in the comments section.

Swoon.

Look again.

Smile.

Love Life.

Live Vicariously.

It's ok. I give you permission!

MommyLove

. . .thy mother shall be glad, and she that bare thee shall
rejoice. Proverbs 23:25

My Prolific Portfolio

Seemingly insignificant moments can produce some of the best photography, in my opinion. Take Keller's profile, for instance:

I took this picture late last night, just hanging around on the couch, while watching Israel create boy-neuron paths in Keller's brain. [You know the ones of which I speak. The neuron paths created by testosterone, that cause little boys to be little boys, made of snakes and snails and puppy-dog tails . . .] When I uploaded it, I was very pleased, as, to my knowledge, I had not yet taken a profile picture of my youngest offspring.

I immediately wanted to blog about Keller's profile: how it still reveals, intact, the imagery of his father as seen on the 4-D ultrasound I received late-term in my pregnancy; about how I love how his smile lifts up his otherwise lean cheeks and turns them into puffalumps of delicious baby glee.

And about those ears. [Just look at them, will you? They are so delightful ~ I wish I knew what gene-pool created them.]

All that thought about blogging took me to word-useage. As you are well aware, I love words, and I very rarely am at a loss for a catchy title or phrase to disclose the content of a post. Today, I really wanted to use the word 'prolific'. I was having unusual difficulty, however, producing an alliteration, or any other distinctive descriptor.

I decided to aid my failing skills by looking up the word. To my utter amazement, I found I had watered it down in my mind to mean, 'brought forward' or 'to show importance to (something)'. When I read the definition, I couldn't help but be amused! Here is the proper definition:

pro·lif·ic (pr-lfk) adj.
1. Producing offspring or fruit in great abundance; fertile.
2. Producing abundant works or results: a prolific artist. See Synonyms at fertile

Well, now I am laughing abundantly, because, at five children and counting, and one grandson in tow, I can attest to the fact that indeed, I am a prolific kinda gal! Ha!Ha!

With that realization comes the note that I will never again think to myself "Get a life. Folks are tired of hearing about and seeing pictures of all your kids. Reading about your latest kid adventure has got to be boring for the blogosphere at large."

Nope.

While I do wish to one day be able to leave my house again without a chest parasite [said with great love, mind you] attached, I relinquish the momentary priviledge for a task of far greater importance than any other task or endeavor that I could aspire to. The raising of Godly offspring. Yessiree.

The knowledge and revelation that these little people (and some big ones, too) are the best investment grounds in today's economy makes every photograph all the more precious. For surely, the day will come when I will turn, and look, and find in the stead of a wee babe a grown person.

Let the flashbulb momentarily blind; let the shenanigans flow; let the tears be shed. I've babies to raise and pictures to take and love to share and minds to develop.

My life is good.
My life is a portfolio to share.
My life is decidedly profilic.