2. I think I am in a wild photo-taking craze right now.
3. I think if I don't get a handle on how to organize these photos, craze might turn into crazy.
4. I think I had a really nice day yesterday.
5. I think you are going to see a lot of pictures of a lot of different things in the next few weeks. (Sorry.)
By the end of the first class, we needed to come up with an idea for the project we'd work on for the duration of the course. It took me through my drive home after class (I'm not so good at doing things on time, I guess.), but I landed on what I wanted to do. For the next seven weeks, I'm going to focus on photographing relationships. I feel comfortable catching spontaneous moments. I have no problem snapping a shot of some kids in our front yard and printing it off to give to a neighbor. I'm hoping to work toward more portrait work. That's a challenge to me. Not stiff, but what our teacher calls "planned spontaneity." Each week Jackie, (she's our teacher) will give us an assignment (this past week was "dramatic lighting," for example), but for me, the assignments will fall under the theme of photographing relationships.
You'll see some of those photos here, I imagine. And a lot you won't. I can't say I'm not a little nervous. But excited too. And how about that relationship in that picture up there? What more potent relationship than one that is just beginning, for everyone. Brother or sister, who knows?
It's grilled cheese Sunday.
We didn't know it until it was time to call them in. Thea and Violet (good girls) came right away, and it's not all that unusual for Lucy to lag a bit behind, lingering over some doggie-pleasing smell in the back yard. But when I called once, then twice and not a rustle. I knew something was wrong.
It was 10:20 p.m.
Of the three dogs, it's Lucy's escape I fear the most. The other two? When they've escaped, they waddle their way back to the front door. Not Lucy. Nose to the ground, on-the-scent beagle, she heeds nothing when she's past the confines of the gate. And she bolts too. The few times she's slid past the perimeter of our yard, she's bolted as fast as she could, nose and body low to the ground, running flat out. It's happened a couple of times. Enough so that we learned the trick of luring her back. Sweet-talking words, "Come on baby girl," and me of all people, low to the ground like I can't wait to see her. She always comes to me.
Callum was undone. We traipsed around the back yards. Neel and Callum walked the block with a flashlight. We called out as loud as we dared given the late hour. A neighbor came by walking her dog, and she promised to keep an eye out. Then Neel decided to get in the car and drive. Somehow we both knew I should stay home, in case she scented her way back, so when he got Thea into the car, Callum and I stayed behind. Callum, restless, couldn't stay outside. I, restless, couldn't go in.
So I stood there waiting, breathing in the night air. It's funny. I'm rarely out that late, unless it's running from the car to the house. Getting inside, out from the cold. It was a beautiful night. Star-filled and crisply clear. Listening to every rustle, every distant bark, I tried not to worry, but really? How could this end well? When I stepped inside for a minute, Callum went out to spell me. We all knew that someone needed to be outside at all times, waiting for her to come home.
I came out to find Tyler talking with Callum. Our avowed dog non-loving neighbor took our boy out looking, diving through back-yard underbrush to search for our pup. I knew it was as much to keep Callum's mind occuppied as anything else, and I was so grateful for that. I was not doing such a good job at that myself.
So there I stood, alone in the yard. Listening to every rustle and every distant bark. Trying not to worry. I'm still not sure how it happened, but my mind alerted to more barking and movment along the street. Bolting toward me, flat-out fast. Could it be our beagle?
I called out her name, "Come here, Lucy-girl!" But she was so low to the ground, I almost wondered if it was our height-challenged Corgi. Had Neel let her out of the car to come home? No! It was a beagle, certain of it. Lucy, making her mad-cap way as fast as she could back to her home.
She tumbled up to the yard, just short of me and stopped flat. She's been known to dart away before, but she didn't this time. She wouldn't look at me, but stared instead at the house as I dove towards her and wrapped my fingers around her collar. That's when my heart started beating madly and my breath came fast. I called Neel right away. "She's home!" I told him. "She just ran back to me."
He was back in a heartbeat, and the three dogs were reunited in the warmth of the house. We tried to call Tyler, and before the phone stopped ringing, I looked up to see him and Callum walking down the block towards the house. Hugs all around. Relief-filled hugs and tears too. And everyone bundled back into the warmth, away from the cold night.
It was a scary, long hour for all of us. We all fell gratefully into bed after that particular nightmare. Neel was up before me Sunday morning, and when I came downstairs, he was already laughing. "I had to carry Lucy outside this morning," he told me. "She was curled up in her crate and shaking, and she wouldn't go."
Then he told me, "When I set her outside, she just stood there on the porch. Still shivering and obviously scared to go into the yard. Thea took one look at her, barked right in her face and pushed her down the steps.
"She's fine now."
2. I think this photography class is going to stretch me in some really good ways. More on that next week.
3. I think I never dreamed I'd be celebrating Australia Day two years running now. Happy Australia Day (a couple of days late)!
4. I think maybe I need to get out more. I went into my class yesterday feeling rather blue and came out feeling quite good.
5. I think maybe I should schedule an appointment with my therapist!
This past weekend was a whirlwind, part of which was having company come through for dinner Saturday night. I made our favorite potatoes, and despite the fact that they seem to be everyone's favorite potatoes, we had leftovers. So Sunday morning we heated up the leftover potatoes, and I made scrambled eggs to go with them.
Is it like riding a bike, I wonder? Omlette-making? Will that wrist-flick and flip come back to me if I try again. We should make omlettes sometime. We really should. But I sure like scrambled eggs.
This makes me happy and proud for so many reasons. In a lot of ways, grades aren't all that important. If he's working hard, I don't worry as much about the number that comes after math or English. But for Callum, the fact that he made honor roll represents a lot. It represents his hard work, and it represents how he has taken steps to fit in and succeed in his new school.
Last school year? Not so great. This school year, he's soaring.
2. I think I'm starting to figure my work life out. Maybe.
3. I think watching Callum doing something he loves is one of my all-time favorite things to do. Ever.
4. I think my day shopping with my girlfriends last Saturday was just the thing I needed. I'm already ready for more!
5. I think that I hope that things might be looking up.
I've been angling for one of those sweet electric fireplaces, but Neel is having none of it. Instead he dragged out our old kerosene heater and fired that puppy up. It's the kerosene heater from his childhood. From the drafty old house he grew up in. And let's face it, despite how ugly it may be, that thing is a dream.
Still, I haven't given up on my hope for a fireplace. You knew that, right?
2. I think that the only way to deal with crazy lousy news is to go make-up shopping and for lunch with some girlfriends.
3. I think that this week I've done a better job of walking the line between trust when Callum tells me that he doesn't feel great and reason about how sick he really is.
4. I think that the best part of the weekend ahead is NO PLANS.
5. I think that I must remember to hold things lightly and that everything will be okay in the end. The Quakers have it right, if I'm patient, the way will open.
Photo Info:
Camera: Canon Rebel XSi
Lens: Canon EF 50 mm f/1.8 (El Cheapo strikes again.)
Aperture: f/5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/125
Focal length: 44 mm
ISO: 800
No flash, basic curves adjustment in Photoshop Elements.
Photo Info:
Camera: Canon Rebel XSi
Lens: Canon EF 28-135 mm
Aperture: f/4.5
Shutter Speed: 1/80 sec
Focal length: 53 mm
ISO: 800
We're all stepping up. Well, I'm stepping up. Normally, I can not be accused of having dishpan hands. Our division of labor falls, and I think I've told you this before, so that I'm primarily doing what I like, which is the cooking, and Neel is doing primarily what he likes, which is keeping things clean.
We don't make a ton of dishes, but it's too much for one person to tackle alone. So I take better care when I'm cooking to clean as I go, and I help dry when Neel has a big batch in front of him. Our sink is big and deep, and he fills it with hot and soapy water. If I'm moving around in other parts of the house, I can hear the burble of the water and the clink of the plates and glasses. (Given Neel's propensity for breaking our glassware, this could get dicey, but so far so good!) A couple of days ago he said, "I actually kind of like doing the dishes like this. It's nice, and you can look out the window."
Now if you know Neel at all, doesn't this sound just like him? It really does, but I had to find out too. So one day when he was at work and we had a load piling up, I filled the sink myself and began the rhythm of rinse and soap, wash and rinse. It's the rhythm that draws him, and it draws me too. Rinse and soap, wash and rinse. He's right. You can look out the window, and you sort of lose yourself there and in the rhythm of the work. I'm reminded of a line from Enchanted April, "Your mind slips sideways." I should watch that again.
When I was growing up, doing the dishes was a family affair. Each of us had a job, and there was a rhythm to that too. My mom cleared and put away and my dad washed while I loaded the dishwasher. Rinse and soap, wash and rinse. That evening ritual was as significant as was our sitting down to the table together. Our rhythm here is different. There is much homework to be done, both before and after dinner, and blog posts to be written. So Neel bears the brunt of this important work each night. But I hear the water splash in the sink, and the clink of a glass, and it's all connected. I'm a little girl again. The past is now. Rinse and soap, wash and rinse.
Photo Info:
Camera: Canon Rebel XSi
Lens: Canon EF 50 mm f/1.8 (El Cheapo strikes again.)
Aperture: f/1.8
Shutter Speed: 1/80 sec
Focal length: 50 mm
ISO: 200
No flash, no post processing.
The bowl is from Santorini, the Clementines (by way of my local grocery store) are from Spain. I like the way the fruit seems to be reaching towards the light and away from the shadow.
2. I think I'm really going to like this cookbook, if the Chicken and Dumplings recipe is any indication. And the carbonara.
3. I think I should take better advantage of our fledgling and growing farmer's market.
4. I think that I am too quick to be suspicious when my son tells me that he is injured or sick, and that I shouldn't be so. This is something I'll need to work on in the new year.
5. I think I'm really intrigued by the response to what is so far such a tiny change to this place. The changes in me and the others I'm planning feel good.
