pic of the day - did you know

A collector I am not. I have a few cute salt-n-pepper shakers, but not enough to say I collect them. I like to buy some kind of jewelry whenever I take a vacation - more of a momento than a collection. There are two things however, that I make a point of securing each Christmas that might just make me a seasonal collector. Without fail for the past at least 10 years or more I buy a pair of Christmas pajamas. Yes, once the pair of the year is purchased, I save them to wear only on Christmas Eve into Christmas morning. There are pink flamingos in a trailer park fully decked out in Christmas lights, there are snowflakes, hot chocolate drinking reindeer, Christmas trees, and peppermint candies just to name a few. Some are flanel, some are knit...the best are fleece!!! This year, in case you are wondering, the pjs of choice are hot pink flanel with little fat penguins in colorful stocking caps sledding and skiing. Pretty huh? After that many years, I guess you could say I have built up quite the collection, so I try to wear every pair at least once between Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve. I don't know what I'll do in another 20 years when there aren't enough days to accomplish my goal. The other thing I suppose I collect at Christmas are nativity sets. Many moons and seasons ago, I decided this collection would be a wonderful way to document my life. Someday, when I was dead and gone, my children and grandchildren would look back through all of the many many nativities and read the stories about where the set was purchased,who bought it for me,what that year symbollized, or what that particular nativity commemorated. Sometimes I buy the nativity for the year, sometimes it's a gift, sometimes there is more than one. Inevitably, it speaks to me. Like the pjs, no nativity is the same. I have one large set and several smaller ones, some even tiny ones. Some are metal, some are ceramic, some are colorful, some are handmade, some are sweet, and some, like the one pictured here, take your breath away. I saw this particular nativity at a store in Minneapolis, MN while on a little mini-vacation this fall. My parents were there and secretly purchased it for me. Since displaying it, every single day I have looked at it in awe and wonder. There are times when it seems Mary is so at peace. At others, I feel I can see the concern in her brow. Joseph appears to be so very dedicated to her comfort and safety. I have dreamt all of my life that I can remember of being a mother and think that the joy, excitement and anticipation of pregnancy must be the most wonderful feeling a woman could experience. I wonder what Mary felt. Did she know what would come for her son? Did she understand the depth of her role of bearer and mother of Jesus? Did she know that with him, that the eyes of the blind would be opened,that the ears of the deaf unstopped, that the lame would leap like deer and the tounge of the speechless would sing for joy, that there would be joy everlasting and that all sorrow and sighing would flee away? It is beyond my comprehension what that must have been like for her. What a precious gift.

pic a day - come thou fount

It is a rare day that I listen to the radio while driving in my car. No matter the volume, I feel as if I'm being screamed at during the numerous commercials and find myself irritated by the commentator bantor. When I do hit that little power button, it is generally in an effort to stay awake on a long drive or, more often than not, to listen to CDs or my Ipod. This is all true with the exception of the 30-35 days pre-Christmas when our local college (not mine unfortunately) radio station plays "Chrsitmas music 24/7" (sung in a happy opera voice). Very little in the media medium thrills me more than Christmas music round the clock. I love it because not only do you hear the oldie but goodies like "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer" or "Rockin Around the Christmas Tree" or "I Saw Momma Kissing Santa Claus", but you also hear some off the wall versions of traditional Christmas songs by artists such as Jimmy Buffet (really?). Once in a blue moon, I mean like once every 4-5 years, I get lucky enough to hear the Porky Pig version of "I'll Have a Blue Christmas Without You" and all the world is right..."I'll have a bb bbb bbbb bbbluuuueeee ccccc cccccchristmas without you!!". One night over the weekend, I was driving home loving every minute of Elvis singing "White Christmas". As I pulled into the garage and turned off the ignition, a new song was just starting to play. I heard enough plunky notes to recognize the song and be curious, so I turned the key and sat back in fascination. The song was "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessings". For one thing, the arrangement was lovely and so unique. The sound and the artist were totally unfamilar. Secondly, I had to ask myself when that song became a Christmas song. As I remembered partial lyrics and sang along while sitting in my chilly car in the garage, I was struck by the fact that it is very much a Christmas song if ever there was one. Kudos to Sufjan Stevens. I've never heard of him until today when I finally found him to be the artist. He might be a new favorite. Enjoy they lyrics as you contemplate as I have this week. All this started with a tiny baby.

1. Come, Thou Fount of every blessing,
Tune my heart to sing Thy grace;
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
Sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount, I’m fixed upon it,
Mount of Thy redeeming love.

2. Sorrowing I shall be in spirit,
Till released from flesh and sin,
Yet from what I do inherit,
Here Thy praises I'll begin;
Here I raise my Ebenezer;
Here by Thy great help I’ve come;
And I hope, by Thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home.

3. Jesus sought me when a stranger,
Wandering from the fold of God;
He, to rescue me from danger,
Interposed His precious blood;
How His kindness yet pursues me
Mortal tongue can never tell,
Clothed in flesh, till death shall loose me
I cannot proclaim it well.

4. O to grace how great a debtor
Daily I’m constrained to be!
Let Thy goodness, like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to Thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here’s my heart, O take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above.

5. O that day when freed from sinning,
I shall see Thy lovely face;
Clothed then in blood washed linen
How I’ll sing Thy sovereign grace;
Come, my Lord, no longer tarry,
Take my ransomed soul away;
Send thine angels now to carry
Me to realms of endless day.

pic of the day - low key

"Low Key" - I learned today that is the theme of the next Owensboro Photography Club's monthly photo contest. Low key refers to a lighting style of set up that features only your subject and minimizes everything else in the frame. In the photography and cinematography world, low key lighting creates and enhances drama. Funny, low key to me means simple with no drama, and that is just how I like it. I've done drama and prefer to keep it to a minimum in my world. Low key lighting requires a bit of staging and set up with just the right lighting source and just the right background. For me, it evidently just requires a bit of luck. As I sat thoroughly enjoying my low key Sunday morning, I noticed how pretty the flower arrangement on my coffee table looked with the glowing warm sunshine lighting it up. That's all it takes for me to scoop up the camera that is never far away and lucky I was. What I captured was so pleasing to me. I was able to portray all the warmth of the season and the sun in a photograph. While the photo demonstrates low key lighting, to me it is symbollic of a happy, drama free, low key, joyful life.

pic of the day - blessed

There seems to be a never ending wrestling match taking place in my mind. Thoughts bouncing around off the elastic ropes of a ring, tackling each other back and forth with one eventually coming up victorious with a gigantic belt when I've finally come to some conclusion or resolution to the thought war. The contestants throwing their weight around vary significantly from time to time so it's almost like a wrestling relay in which one wrestler hands off his baton to a fellow teamer (I love you Annie M) and the wrestling continues. Yes, I know there is no such thing as a wrestling baton. This week the contestants of choice have been "Blessed" and "Not-so-Much". For those of you who might be reading who do not share the same faith values as I do, consider yourself warned. While always inspired and sometimes spirit filled, my blogging generally is not out-right faith oriented, but this one might be. The Old Testament scripture in church on Sunday was from Daniel where he dreamt of the 4 beasts and upon interpretation was told the 4 beasts represent 4 kings and that the holy ones of the Most High shall receive the kingdom and posess the kingdom forever - forever and ever. The service went on to include Luke's account of the beattitudes, in which we are instructed regarding what constitutes holiness (Blessed) and not-so-much. Put the two together and you get a peek at who receives not just forever, but forever-forever and ever. The two have been wrestling because at first glance with a pair of literal glasses, I felt like I fell into the not-so-much category. I'm not rich by any stretch of the imagination, but I am take care of. My needs are met. I have a lovely roof over my head. I am not hungry. I laugh every single day, many days multiple times. Tonight I'm pretty sure I snorted and may have peed just a little I laughed so hard. I'm not 100% sure, but I think others think well of me. Sadly all of these characteristics and qualities were prefaced with a "Woe" or a not-so-much in stead of "Blessed"...this made no sense to me because I feel like I am surrounded with blessings, I am honored to have and do the things I am able to have to have and do, and for the first time in a truly long time, I am for the most part content and at peace with life. Today at lunch though, I saw this little yellow rose blossom. I saw a gorgeous display of soft, tender life among the dry, withered and dying. I saw a bit of sweetness that had weathered 4 nights of frost this past week and weekend. I saw strength and endurance. I saw what forever-forever and ever might look like. When all else has passed, there is one that lives. I saw what blessed is. I don't think blessed has as much to do with the literal things of this life as it does the figurative. I think it has to do with compassion and sharing, with loving and giving, with feeling and caring, with hoping and dreaming, with wishing and guiding, with living through our hearts. When one lives with their heart, every day there is hunger for more, there is an ache for others, there is striving to protect, there is a need to share joy, there is love. Faith is not a one way rule dictating, you do what I say and all will be well journey. Faith is a relationship, built, built - it doesn't just poof appear, on mutual love and trust. When there is love and trust, there is forever-forever and ever.

pic of the day - and so it begins

And so it begins. Falling leaves are a lovely occurance. I could get lost watching them coast one by one to the ground. It fascinates me how they just go with the flow, heading one direction than another until finding a resting place, only to be blown away again. I wonder what it would be like to ride on a leaf as it journeys from the peaks of the trees to the grass down below. I can imagine the sound of the air blowing past me, the excitement and leap of the heart when the direction changes, and the whew of peace when we finally land. Favorite thing #429 is to sit in my chair in the front window of my living room, curled in a blanket, with a good cup of coffee watching the leaves float down like rain drops in slow motion. Ahhh, fall.

pic of the day - out of the rubble

All around me I see examples of strength and perseverance. I see evidence of overcoming great odds to attain greatness. I see beauty, creativity, and vitality. I do not need to look to great athletes or figures of leadership to see this display. I do not have to watch the news to bear witness to such models. I only need to look in my own back yard. Dramatic I know, but I believe it to be true and thus it has great meaning to me. Behind my garage is a brick pad where my garbage cans live. Beyond that are stacks of firewood for my chimnea and bundles of branches to be used for kindling. I confess, there are also a great many weeds and I fear even more spiders and creepy crawlies. Most of all, there is also a patch of the loviest pink begonias. I did not plant these begonias. I've never even bought begonias. This is my fourth summer calling this house my home and it is the fourth summer the little pink beauties have offered their greetings. Now correct me if I'm wrong as I am certainly no green thumb guru, but I do not believe begonias are even perenial flowers, but rather are annuals that only live through one blooming year. These little buddies have survived at least four with absolutely zero horticultural nurturing, no food, no water other than rain, no soil preparation. They've fought their way through brick and weeds, they've grown despite 75+ days over 90 degrees this summer, dodged the weedeater, and they've withstood hurricane Bertie. They are surrounded by weeds, bugs, sticks, and the occasional stinky trash can. Yet they are fragile little pieces of gorgeous. I would be stretching it a bit if I said they didn't have their battle scars, but don't we all? They, like me, were fearfully and wonderfully made and each step, each struggle, each drop of rain all adds to the journey. They may have no other purpose but to bring me great joy and inspiration and they do so with passion. May I have such strength and perseverance. May I shine with the beauty, creativity, and vitality with which I was created. May I live and serve my purpose with passion.

pic of the day - night light

Some days some things just strike me and scream "Take my picture!" Today was one of those days. My grandpa passed away last June. His mental and physical health had progressively declined in the months before and he had not been himself for several years before that. Somehow in the grieving of his decline, we accepted a new normal and established new habits. One of the things I will forever have etched in my mind was our daily farewell. He had a certain spot on the end of the couch that allowed him, if he leaned to the left far enough, to see around the corner sort of out the front door. He always had his feet propped up on the coffee table and I can see him sitting there in his jammies, robe, and house shoes as if he were sitting right in front of me. I would always hug and smooch him and tell him I loved him, but when I got to the front door, I would stop, turn around, wave, and blow him a kiss which he would invariably catch, send back to me, or allow to knock him in the heart. So sweet! When he passed and was burried, I had the hardest time leaving him there, in the cemetery. I felt like I was leaving him there all alone. The first thunderstorm broke my heart because it felt like he was out there in that pouring rain in the dark all by himself. Granted, I knew better, I was not delusional, but that is just how it felt and I hated it. I decided he needed a night light. Again, I knew better, but it made my heart feel better. So I bought a double set of these pretty cut glass solar lights...kind of like porch lights...and they brought me comfort. I didn't feel like he was so alone then. No much time passed before one either got stolen or broken, and unfortunately, but budget didn't allow for the highest of quality and the second one stopped working. So, I brought the light home and it hangs by my back porch where I pass by it every day. It still doesn't work and I am so not a gazing ball kind of girl, but it's nice. Not that I will ever forget, but it reminds me of him each time I see it. Today, it was full of sunshine and lit up like a diamond studded disco ball. What a gift. I still turn around when I get to my car after visiting the cemetery, wave, and blow him a kiss. There's no one there to catch it or send it back or smack in the heart, but he's with me. He just sends his love through a diamond studded disco ball.

pic of the day - another sun sets

I believe that I have already established that I dig symbolism in my life. Everything means something in my world and I try to find a message hidden in every little gift that crosses my path. Sunsets are no different. There is the literal meaning in that the sun goes down and the day is done. There is the figurative meaning in that the sun has set on the events of the day, good or bad. It is time to put them away, rest one's mind and heart, and wake with the sun to a new series of occurrences. It can be, at times, the end of a chapter or the start of a new one depending one's point of view. It can also serve as the last page turned and the book is closed. My interest is piqued by the fact that I constantly find myself chasing sunsets. I often do not realize how phenomenal a sunset is going to be until it is fast approaching. It is at those moments that I find myself scurrying to grab the camera, convince Bertie that going "bye bye" is a fun thing so she'll let me leash her up, jump in the car and head west trying to decide as I go just which road is going to take me to the prettiest view? Often I take a new road hoping beyond hope that this is the road that is going to offer that "Hallelujah Chorus" moment that takes my breath away all the while breaking my neck to see around the bend or over the hill to catch a glimpse of what's next. Sometimes I arrive in time to see something beautiful. Sometimes I'm too late and the peak of color has passed. Sometimes I think I'm late, enjoy what I can, and head for home only to realize when I look in my rear view mirror that I'm missing the best part of the show. I am learning on this little photography adventure and on this little journey called life. I've learned to watch the clouds a couple hours before sunset. I've learned to gauge the humidity. I've learned to watch the farmers to see if they are harvesting late as the dust that is stirred by a combine makes for a really pretty light catcher. In life, I've learned to pay closer attention to the details of events and people. Something or someone that may once have not meant much at all might really be something special when it's full potential is realized. I've learned not to react quite so much but rather take things into my own hands and be prepared. I leave the tripod in the car. I drive out west of town just in case. I hope the thrill of what's around the bend or over the hill never goes away. I am excited by life and I am eager to see what's next. That doesn't mean I can't enjoy what's right in front of me though. It's ok if my timing is a bit off. I may not catch a prize winning picture but I still have a prize winning memory. Sometimes the picture is not made for print, but instead is just a little gift to me. Thankfully, I truly believe with all my heart that while I may have left too early a missed some darn good color, I don't believe the best of life is behind me. It is still around the bend, waiting for me to grab hold. I don't know what kind of picture it will be. It might be a lake. It might be a barn. It might be a tree. It might be glorious colors or a soft hue. Whatever it is, I'm ready.

pic of the day - my thankful list

This whole blogging experience has been very reflective for me. There are good number of things about myself that I probably already knew if I had to admit it that have become quite evident along the journey. For example, I knew going into this that I would start out strong and committed to daily pictures and posts and that the streak would not be a long one. I knew I would hit a roadblock at some point and miss a day. One day becomes two then three. Before you know it, I'm lucky if I get one picture a week. This was knowledge to me from the get go, but it still stung a little when I strayed from my plan. This is now the third day in a row, but I am more aware of my limits and boundaries and simply celebrate every day I can offer a post. Another example can be evidenced by today's picture. I thrive on tradition and nostalgia. I love remembering and find that symbollism is a very meaningful conduit for me. Just this third season of 2010, I have come to realize how many yearly Fall rituals I offer up. For that matter, when I think big picture, it's not just Fall rituals, but daily rituals to some extent. Today's picture is of my yearly thankful list. Each year around this time, I tape a piece of paper to the fridge and begin to list the many things for which I am thankful. I keep a pen nearby because as notions strike, I add to the list. This list stays posted until after the first of the year so that all through the holidays I am reminded of all that fills my heart with joy. For some strange reason, something posessed me last night to leap above and beyond the normal sheet of yellow legal paper to create a scrapbooker's masterpiece thankful list. It was so fun to sit and cut and layout and design. It was almost theraputic. When all was said and done, I had my thankful list and a tremdously full and warm heart.

pic of the day - my toothy friend

Carving a jack-o-lantern is a bittersweet thing for me. On the one hand, it is one of the most fun things I look forward to during the fall. I pick out just the right pumpkin with just the right swirly stem. Not too fat, not too skinny, not too tall, not too short...one that is just right. I love to scoop out all that stringy goo until the inside is smooth as silk. I wish I could say I loved the pumkin seeds because it seems like a novel tradition and somehow eco-friendly to roast them. However, my grandpa convinced me at a tender age that if I ate seeds, I would sprout a whatever it is in my belly and have whatever they are coming out my ears. So, despite being 36 years old and knowing better, I continue to opt for a seed free diet. I think it would make him smile. Though my artistic talents lie more in capturing art via photograpy (I'm not saying I'm good necessarily, I'm just saying that's where I lean) rather than creating art with say a paintbrush or pencil, I love to sketch out my jack-o-lantern's face and commence carving. The fact that my jack-o-lanterns have all looked pretty much like this one for the last, oh, 8-10 years should be convincing proof that I need to stick to my day job. I must confess that my original intent of this one was to be a sassy, chicy, girl pumpkin with big overdone eyebrows and a pouty Angelina-esque smile. Somewhere along the way, something went drastically wrong. Oh well. It was fun nonetheless. Here is where the story turns bitter. From the time I was a very small child, mean bully teenagers have found great thrills and fun from throwing my inspired carved friend into the street, smashing him to smitherines. Please tell me where the fun is in that? I don't care that I am a grown woman. I dread that morning when I find the result of their "fun and games" and am saddened when it happens. I seriously conisdered leaving the dead squirrel hanging last year to ward off such meanies. So, as much fun as it is to create a new pal each fall, it's eaqually sad to see him in a zillion pieces on my street. For now, I'll focus on the fun and hope that he makes people smile as they drive by. I'll get warm fuzzies fromthe toothy greeting when I pull into the driveway and I'll enjoy the sweet for now

pic a day - amazed and blessed

It never ceases to amaze me (after something like 4,963,792 instances and reminders) how very blessed I am. Obviously this reference in not in regards to today's pic of the day and my outstanding photographic abilities, but rather to what those three roses symbolize in my life. It is beautiful to me that lives that started at random points across the south and the midwest could collide in such a way at just the right moment with just the right amount of nurturing so as to produce lifelong friendships and kinships. Who knew that I would go to college at a place where the son of my great grandfather's dear friend and his wife would become my second parents? Who knew that Tina would come to visit JBC during my freshman year, stay with a girl who lived in my suite and that we would one day be roomies? Who knew that I would overcome my fears and come to love Carrie, the girl that in my mind threatened to take my friend Jake away? Not only didn't I loose my friend, I gained another (plus their two darling girls - and Tucker & T). Who knew that all these worlds would collide and that Larry would fight to give Tina the second chance no one else was willing to give and that he and Myra would offer their home to both Jake and Carrie? Who knew that their bond would grow when I came home? Who knew that guy named Palmer would someday wind up counting the hours until Larry arrived? Who knew that we would all swell with pride and honor because we know and love this country's newest Leutinent? And who knows what story is yet to be told. Our God knew because he planned it...each and every bit of it...he planned it. It was no accident, but rather by design. And he knows the next chapter, and the next, and the one after that. I am so thankful and I can't wait to see what's on the next page. I love you my friends!

pic of the day - sweet pansies

It would not be true for me to say that pansies are my favorite flower, but they are near the top of the list, just below yellow roses, sunflowers, and hydrangeas. Pansies win my heart over year after year for a variety of reasons, the first being the multitude of colors in which they come. Red, gold, down-right yellow, dark purple, light purple, lavender (yes there is a difference between light purple and lavender), white...I've even seen some that are such a dark shade of redish purple that they appear black. They are incredibly resilient and hearty. If I forget to water them, which I am prone to do, they just pop right back into shape when I do finally remember. They seem to thrive on the cool nights of fall, which really shoots them up on the list...we share a favorite season. Most impressive is that they provide that final burst of color all the way up until winter has officially made itself known. I have even seen pansies shining through a dusting of snow. Not unlike any other flower really, they are happy. My dad had an Aunt Pansy when he was a kid. Pansy and Bob (I think that was his name...Pansy seemed to stick in my head more than him apparently)...I've heard stories of them all my life, but cannot really say I recall ever meeting them. They may well have been gone by the time I came about, I'm just not sure. Regardless, fun was always had at Pansy's house. With a happy name like Pansy, how could you not be fun? From the tales I've heard, she too was strong and resilient, vibrant and full of life. Even though I've never met her, I have her pictured in my mind and I think of her every time I see my pretty pansies smiling at me when I pull in my driveway. I hope that strength, resiliency and vibrancy trickled down the family tree to me.

pic(s) of the day - so much more than applebutter

I think we all agree that Fall is full of many wonderful events, experiences, traditions, scents, tastes, and opportunities. In fact, while most welcome each season, ok, maybe not winter, with a friendly hug, I do not recall quite the ovation that I have ever noticed such a welcome as Fall has received this year. That could be because there were something like 75 days this summer with temperatures over 90 around here. Maybe because we have not seem much more than a drop or two of rain since April. Whatever the reason, I believe everyone is glad to see our friend Fall. One of the traditions I look most forward to is a day spent making my Grandma's homemade applebutter recipe with my momma. We have so much fun together and have mastered the whole process down to a science...ok science is not fun, but we are good! The past two years, we have started our day early with a trip to the local Farmer's Market for our apples. Now in my opinion, that is a great way to start any day, but especially applebutter day. We have met this wonderful German woman named Gina and the last two years, we have bought every apple she had for sale. Both years, she has been blown away and cannot believe we want them all. We manage to draw quite a crowd when buying every apple on the stand, then the drooling starts when share our events of the day. The events of the day...we offer thanksgiving to Pampered Chef for inventing the "Apple Peeler Corer Slicer" let me tell you. It is no small task to prepare 6 bags of apples for cooking. The chopping, the cooking, the spices, the warm smells...what a wonderful day. This year my Aunt Carol joined in the fun and made the day that much better. We laughed as we drank coffee and pigged out on oatmeal raisin cookies while the apples cooked. It is not just the applebutter that makes the day worthwhile. It is the years of memories, it is knowing my Grandma is smiling down on us so proud for making her applebutter taste so good, it is remembering her hugs and her kitchen, it is time with my mom, it is making something special in my home, it is the joy in my dad's face when he has the first bite every year...it is so much more than applebutter...so much more than applebutter.

pic of the day - pure entertainment

This past weekend, my parents and I scratched another item off our respective bucket lists. What a treat it was. This particular item has been on my list since college. You see, each year at Christmas, the faculty and staff at Joshnson Bible College would host the Miller-Scott Christmas banquet. They worked hard to prepare a wonderful meal and convert the gymnasium into a beautiful winter wonderland. For dessert, they always lined up, marched in to the "Dance of the Sugar Plum Faries" from the Nutcracker, carrying red velvet cakes with sparklers shooting off the top. Everyone dressed up and it was the event of the semester. During dessert, the faculty and staff would present a little mini theatre production. One year it was s spoof on the Peanuts (Dean Lowe as Charlie Brown is still vivid in my mind). One year when I was on staff it was the show Newhart. I was Stephanie - Funny! One year, it was a JBC version of a radio show called "Prairie Home Companion." I had never heard of the program and assumed it was something from the "olden days" when radio was all that was available for entertainment. I was shocked to learn that the program was a contemporary form of entertainment and could not understand why anyone would listen to a radio program when they could see a movie or watch TV. Ahh, youth! It would be a few more years before I would have the opportunity to hear the program myself, but when I did, I knew exactly why one might listen and then could not understand why everyone didn't stop their activity on Saturday evenings to listen. I have many fond memories of painting down in my friend Larry's woodshop,getting totally lost in the stories of Lake Wobegon, being swept away by the musical talents of The Guy's All-Star Shoe Band, fascinated by the sound effects of the Royal Academy of Actors, and being fully entertained by Garrison Keillor. Prairie Home Companion has been a part of my life ever since. I wish I could say it was a Saturday night fixture. I wish life was slow enough to set aside two hours on a Saturday night for such purity. Instead, life is busy, there is alwasy something going on, some place to be, but I do tune in, even if for a minute, every chance I get. This past weekend, we took a just for fun trip to St. Paul Minnesota to be part of the audience for the season opener of Prairie Home Companion, live from the Fitzgerald Theatre. F. Scott Fitzgerald hails from St. Paul, thus the theatre's namesake. Opening night brings it's own traditions with a meatloaf and mashed potato supper on the street after the show followed my live music from the case and street dancing. What an absolute treat it was! As long as Garrison puts on those red shoes, I will continue to tune in when I can, and hold all of those wonderful wonderful memories so dear.

pic of the day - now i'm hooked on night photography

This evening when I got home from dinner with my sweet folks, I was faced with a decision. It was obvious that the sunset held great promise to be a doozy with great clouds and color. It was also going on 6:30 and Bertie had been in her kennel most of the day. I could load her up along with the camera and tripod and go sunset exploring or I could leash her up, take her for a nice walk and be confident that the evening would be a smidge more calm. Weighing the two options and noting that my gan tank was nearing empty, I opted to walk and simply enjoy the beautiful sunset as a gift. A gift it was indeed. I have never seen anything like it. It was beautiful! While I was cursing a bit under my breath for not getting in the car, I was thankful for the experience. Wonderfully, at the same time the gorgeous sun was setting, the full moon was rising on the other horizon. By the time we got back to the house, the sky was nearly dark, but still offered some cool views. The camera bug had bit long before in the evening so back to the night photography I went. I really think I might be hooked. This little pumpkin lives on top of my fenceposts that hold the gate into my backyard...instead of gargoyles, I have pumpkins. It's better than dead squirels. I was so touched tonight by the sun setting while the moon was rising. Some things come and go in our lives. People and places fill our days with warmth and light but sometimes, slowly they fade away...some in far more beautiful fashion than others. At the same time though, another light fills in the darkness providing safety and comfort until the warmth returns. That is no accident. The gorgeous sunset was no accident. That kind of beauty and depth and impact comes from somewhere. It comes with design and purpose. The old saying goes "it's not the gift...it's the thought that counts." I'm glad I get to be a recipient of such thoughts.

pic of the day - my first night pic

One minute totally irritated...the next totally excited! Bertie just had to go out right this very minute or she was going to claw and eat the front door down. She has no respect for the fact that I was engrossed in NCIS Los Angeles or that I had zero interest in getting out of my chair and taking her out. I have to give her credit, she is a persisitent thing. We go outside...pee pee Bertie...pee pee. No pee pee. Just smelling where the rabits and squirels have played. Normally I just sit down on the back porch to wait it out, but for some reason, tonight I walked down the walk. When I turned around to go back up to the house, a beautiful full moon smiled down at me. Now night photography is something that hasn't really presented itself to me. I see wonderful photos that others take of a beautiful night sky and think it's amazing, but I've never tried it. Tonight, I decided, was the night. I fetched my tripod and zoom lens and began to shoot. How very very fun!!! It would definitely be better on a cloudless night and I need to learn to be more patient. A 30 second shutter is not my cup of tea. I also need to learn to use my remote. All in all though I have to say I am pleased. I even caught a little Jupiter going on. The moral of the story? Get out of your chair, step off the porch, smell where the rabbits play and you will be shown wonderfully fun things.

pic(s) of the day - my little pumpkin

I think I might have mentioned that I love fall. One of my most favorite days during the fall season is the day I go buy skads of pumkins and mums and decorate my porches all cute and sweet. If you've read earlier posts, you'll remember the Indian corn incident. Yeah, no Indian corn this year. Every year I try my darndest to hold out on the ole decor day as late as my patience will allow me to wait. There is great strategy in the pumpkin purchasing game. If you buy too early, there will be nothing but a moldy, stinky, bird pecked mess before Halloween even thinks of arriving. If you wait too late, all the pumkins have been bought and yours is the only house in town that doesn't welcome the world with a smiling jack-o-lantern. It's tricky friends. My patience snapped on Saturday and my own little pumkin fest commenced. I bought big pumkins and little pumkins, orange pumpkins (duh) and these great orange and white striped pumpkins. I picked ones with great curly stems, short ones, fat ones. You name it, i bought it! I didn't even have the patience to open the house up and let Bertie out before I started in the placement of pumpkins just so so all around the steps and flower pots. SOOO CUTE!!! As I let Bertie out for her "Momma's home potty" I noticed the quick sneaky glimpse and sniff she gave as she raced past the pumpkins on the back porch. Hmmm...Note to self...tell Bertie NO NO NO NO NO about the pumpkins. Later that afternoon as I was going about my Saturday afternoon piddle chores, I noticed that sweet precious Bertie was awful quiet outside. I eased around to the backdoor, peeked through the curtain, and there she was gnawing one of my pumpkins like a wild dog on the Christmas turkey. She was in pure heaven!!!! It was so funny, I didn't have the heart to be mad. What dog eats a pumpkin? My sweet little pumpkin of course!!!!!! Happy fall!!!!

pic of the day - harvest sunset

Sunset. Harvest. Life. It is all about circles of time, some in shorter cycles than others, but circles nonetheless. The sun rises and sets once a day, all within about a 13 hour period this time of year. Summer is awesome because the days stretch so long and so much more can be squeezed into a day. Now as winter approaches, we just make the most of the daylight we have. The planting season generally works in a yearly cycle with planting every spring, praying for just enough but not too much rain all summer, that beautiful harvest each fall, followed by a winter of rest. Life? Who knows? What would it be like if we knew going into it the length of our seasons? Would that change how we grow? How we spend our time? Would we do a better job of making the most of that time? As the days grew shorter would we treasure the beauty of the harvest anticipating great rest? I'm not sure. Personally, while I love routine and I love the familiarity of the seasons and the days, I love that each new day is a surprise...a gift yet to be opened. It thrills me that I never know what to expect. Yes, sometimes we are blindsided by something unexpected and events in life are not always happy. That is true. But if I sat around waiting to see what bad thing might be coming around the corner, I would be tainted and never fully enjoy the wonderful. It would be like a little bit pee in a swimming pool. How's that for wisdom? No amount of worry is a good amount of worry because it spoils the good, even if just a little. I am perfectly content with a healthy level of mystery in my life and treat each day as if it was the longest day of the year...enjoying each and every moment of daylight as if were the last ray of sunshine. This picture happens to have been taken from the edge of the cemetery where my sweet grandpa is burried. It is often at the end of the day when I find myself visiting there as it seems appropriate and symbolic. This evening struck me in a particular way because it was sunset on the day, the crops, and on life.

pic of the day - fall flowers

Without question, doubt, or hesitation, fall is my favorite season. Spring has it's lovely qualities. A pretty winter snow has it's perks. The hot summer sun feels wonderful after you've spent the afternoon in chilly AC. Fall though has it all. There is the crisp cool air that sweeps in as the sun goes below the horizon and the chill of a fresh morning as it returns. There is that oh so distinct smell that tells you fall is on its way. For sports fanatics, fall brings football. The colors of fall compare to nothing else. The crickets chirp brighter and the days get shorter. A fall breeze is like a hug from an old friend. You just want to open your arms wide and take it all in. The hummingbirds feast in abundance. The trees rustle with excitement of that first falling leaf...then the raking...the jumping. Pumpkins and mums and scarecrows - Oh my! I LOVE FALL!!!

pic(s) of the day - taste and see

It finally rained a bit in my neck of the woods and that precipitation made for a glorious morning today. There was a wee bit of fog hanging all around and every blade of grass and flower leaf had these wonderful little droplets of water all over. Though it was just a bit of rain, everything seemed to be saying thank you. Bertie likes to taste all the water droplets as if she had been given her very own little fountain of refreshment. In fact, Bertie likes to taste just about everything...my hands, my hair, my clothes, the rug, the bed...she seems to absorb her world not just smelling (like most normal dogs) but by tasting. Like a toddler, everything goes to her mouth. Crazy transition, but there is a song we sing in church called "Taste and See". The main chorus of the song directs us to taste and see the goodness of God. This past Sunday as we sang that song, I was a bit overwhelmed as I thought of all the goodness that surrounds me every single day...my friends at work, my job in a place that strives not just to provide an education, but to provide a life altering experience in the process, my wonderful family that loves without end, a church that is accepting and pure with people who are genuine and free, my home that is filled with pieces of my life and provides a haven and rest, my dog that teaches me patience, my dear dear friends who know and love honestly, the breeze that ushers in autumn...I could go on and on. The point is I am surrounded by goodness if only I choose to taste and see it. Too often we go through life consumed with the unpleasant things, when all along, there is great goodness to be had. I heard it said this week that faith can be summed up in three little phrases: I'm sorry....thank you....please. I'm sorry I don't always live and do in a way that is just. Thank you for loving me anyway. Please, teach me and show me.

pic of the day - Bertie the Watchdog

I have shared before that Bertie's favorie spot in the house is hanging off the back of the chairs in the living room gawking out the front window. She is totally hilarious when she delves into watchdog mode as she takes her job very seriously. Obviously she is not deterred by the drawn shades, lowered windows, nor the dark of night. She simply hangs a little lower and tunes in her night vision abilities. The candles in the windows certainly serve as an aid unless they get in her way. I can only wonder what people think when the drive by and see her checking them out. She will sit curled up like a frog looking up and down the street for what seems like hours (not really) until she's content all is well and safe. I am a lucky girl to be so loved and protected :)

pic of the day - my BU 101 class

Meet my new favorite bunch of people! I work at a small private Catholic liberal arts university - Brescia University. Last fall we started a program called the First Year Experience where we provide sort of an extended orientation for all first time full time freshmen. The students are enrolled BU101/102 for 10 weeks in the fall and 10 weeks in the spring. This is my second year teaching a section of the class and this fine group is my class this year. From left to right, there is Kaley Girl, Kory-Rock, Sweet Schyler, Larenski, Kikki, Brenda Lou Lou (BLL is my teaching assistant for the class - she is a sophomore this year and was in my class last year. I love her dearly!!!), Laura-Li, Anthony Tony, Zel (Zel works at the abused women's shelter where we volunteered the day this picture was taken), McLovin, Gleeenn with 2 n's, Dancin DJ, BV, and me. If you are unaware, I love nick-names. Many of them don't even know I call them what I call them...It's just my own little term of endearment. We talk about everything from our history and heritage as a university, our own family roots, our talents, strengths, future plans, time management, ethics, values, decision making, etc. We meet on Tuesday evenings and try to have as much fun as we can. Next week, we are eating cupcakes & ice cream while we meet. We're planning a possible outdoor adventure at a local state park soon, and we'll go back to the abused women's shelter a few more times. Developing a heart for service and molding servant leaders is a great part of what this class is all about, because that's what Brescia is all about. I am so excited about this bunch! I think we are going to have a really fun year together!

pic of the day - Hank Parker

Meet Hank Parker. For those of you who might be outdoorsmen or women, you might know that Hank Parker hosts, or used to host, a fishing show on one of the outdoor networks. To answer your question, yes, this fuzzy creature who is the closest thing to my sibling, as we share my parents, is named for that very Hank Parker. He is an eleven year old Airedale Terrier, stands a good 3 foot tall, and weighs nearly 90-100 pounds. When he was a little bitty puppy, he was mostly black with a curly tan face. I could pick him up and tote him around like a chimpanzee (a secret dream of mine - I've always wanted my own chimp). Now, he's more like a small horse that could tote me around. With the sad farewell of his favorite nephew-dog Pax last year, Hank assumed the role of the canine patriarch of our family, and has done so with great dignity. He is quite the fine old man with his daily bursts of fun and energy. Both of he knees have been injured over the years, both having needed surgeries afterward. Bless his heart, he's not the most agile of dogs anymore, and getting up off the floor is sometimes slowgoing, but boy does he have heart. Whenever anyone comes to the backdoor, myself and my parents included, he goes into a most overwhelming barking/howling fit that would make one think something might be ungoing torture. It is pure love and joy coming from that teeth quivering bark though. He's endured many a nickname over his time...as a puppy, he was Hankster the Prankster as he was always theiving things and hiding them. His favorite game ever. For no reason other than humor we've called him Hanky Panky. Now that my folks have the little black bullet of a dog named Tootie, they are known together as Honk Honk and Toot Toot. My personal favorite is a name he gained after I read Janet Evanovich's series of Stephanie Plum novels (I highly reccomend all 16 of them for those of who have not read them. SOOOO stinking funny I laugh out loud in every book). Stephanie has a cousin she lovingly refers to as "Shirley the Whiner." Not one single hour of waking hours goes by but what Hank doesn't whine. For such a gorilla of dog, he is the biggest whiny baby. My mother deserves a crown the size of Texas for having to endure that whine all day long. Hank is getting old. The vet told us nearly two years ago that he would likely be gone in six months to a year due to bone cancer. Two years and no signs of any kind of cancer and he's still whining. Still, we know the majority of his life is past us so whining and all, we love him dearly and spoil him as rotten as we can. One day, we'll finish a meal and it will be silent. No whining. It will not be the same without Shirley.

pic(s) of the day - reflecting over my morning coffee

I am truly blessed. I experience one of the happiest, peaceful, most satisfying moments of my life each and every day. It's like I live in the movie "Groundhog Day" as this moment of fulfillment repeats itself daily. What is this divine occurence? The first sip of my morning coffee. Unlike people, places, and inflated expectations, it never fails to live up to my hopes and anticipations.

Yesterday morning, after two weeks of a non-stop pace, as I officially said goodbye to my huge project at work began a long holiday weekend, that first sip was all the more delightful. The temperature outside was a crisp 56 and the breeze was lovely. Note: I opened every single window in my house while the coffee was brewing. I took my sweet cup to the living room, snuggled up in my chair with Bertie on my shoulder peering out the front window (see previous post about Bertie's parrot like tendancies), and began to partake in pure heaven!

As I sat there, I reflected on the past couple weeks of busy-ness and wondered why it had been so paralyzing. Certainly, I learned several lessons about project management and my own organization that will make future projects of this magnitude less mind occupying. I also decided that there is a certain amount of choice involved. I know the things that bring me replinishment, but sometimes it requires a choice to partake in those things. Rest doesn't always come in the form of opportunity, rather I have to make it happen. I've been very frustrated that I haven't had the time to play with photos or to write...both things that are very calming for me. The time may not have been optimum, but I had the time. I chose not to use it. And so the learning continues.

Life, like my photography is a journey with lessons and self discovery learned all along the way.

I am constantly struck by light and how it passes through objects, the cast and and hue that it creates. As I came up the stairs

yesterday, I was engulfed in how cool my room looked with the light passing through the bamboo shades. If you know me at all, you know my room was a bit of a mess so capturing the whole thing was not an option. But pulling my favorite pair of shoes from the closet and using them for the beautiful models they are was a great option. I usually do not like to stage photos, but this just seemed right. They are my favorites #1 because they are red. Hello? #2 because they are patent leather they shine! What a comination! #3 because they are some brand I've never heard of so I pretend they are expensive. #4 I bought them at the gap outlet for $3. Does it get any better? Really? I wear my sweet little shiny red shoes with this wonderful "Breakfast at Tiffany's" little black dress that is made of taffetta...it is sleeveless and fitted at the bodice with a thin black belt at the waist. The skirt is super poofy and knee length. The best part....it has pockets!!!!!! The other best part....it was $12.99 on Target.com!!!! I love to shop. Help cannot be found for me. Even more than shopping, I loves me a bargain!!! The sadness of this strory is that I have had only one opportunity to wear my stunning frock and shoes. Life in Owensboro does not really call for many cocktail party opportunities. One of these days, I would like to host a backyard garden cocktail party where we eat yummy food, drink good libations, wear our pretty duds, and enjoy good company. Be watching....your invitation might just be in the mail!

pic(s) of the week...umm...two weeks

It has been two weeks spent in a whirlwind. Remember those fun money booths where the money flies all around and the lucky contestant was allotted precious few seconds to catch all the money they could? That's how I've felt for the last two weeks except I wasn't grabbing for money...I was grabbing for air and a moment of peace. I have no idea why, but it's just been one of those blitz times when every second of the day is spoken for. I have mangaged to take a few shots here and there...I just haven't really had the time, moreso, the energy, to download, post, and write. Me and technology are worlds apart right now. I dropped my Blackberry phone last week and it went kaput...nothing but a white screen. There is a sensation that my connection to the world has been stripped from me. That little bugger was my road to staying in touch. To say I am feeling a little lost would be an understatement. The same can be said for times when life is so crazy busy. I try coming up for air and a moment to myself and it is so quick, nothing good comes from it. I feel so distant from all that is familiar and lovely to me and I feel lost. Thankfully though, there is light at the end of the tunnel though. There is always a light. My craziness should come to an end crowned by a holiday weekend very soon. My Blackberry will likely remain lifeless. I've resorted back to my trusty flip phone. I've dropped him a million times and he's still ringing. There is always a light!

pic a day - always welcome

There is something very welcoming about a wreath on a door. It just says "Hey...welcome...come on in!" It's not so much about being pretty, although that is a common and good reason for a wreath, and I certainly wouldn't advocate putting up an ugly wreath. It's just a universal sign to me that indicates HERE is where I want you to be...HERE, right at my front door walking in. I love love love love having people in my home. To me, my home is the most personal thing I can offer to people. It is full of pictures of those I hold near and dear. There are family heirlooms. I am a serious collector of stuff and all my stuff has memories connected. My Raggety Ann doll from when I was 3 sits on a shelf along with some really cool cigar boxes I scoped out in the Old City of Knoxville when I lived there. There are chotchkys from my trip to Ireland along side pottery pieces from a silent auction. At Christmas, I display a thousand and one (OK, maybe more like 30) nativity scenes that I've collected over the years. I always pick one that I decide to leave out all year. There's ribbon from my grandpa's funeral, an old camera and film slides I picked up at an antique store, and books galore. My photography is displayed along with other pieces of famly artwork. And that's all just in my living room. My home is a shrine to the life and the love and the joy I've experienced. You may not realize all that is present when you walk through my front door, but I do and when you leave, you've become a part of all that is me. So when you see the wreath on my door, don't hesitate to knock. It may be dusty and little messy, much like me :), but you are always always always welcome in my home.

pic of the day - I will always love you

I'd like to offer a shout out to my dear friend Tina on this one! Before there was Whitney Houston and the movie Bodyguard, there was a 5 foot tall, well endowed blond beauty from East Tennessee, with big wig hair as big as her personality and she sang one of my favorite songs of all time. Dolly Parton! I've heard all the rumors about what a fake she is and how foul mouthed she is. I even heard once, from a very reliable source mind you, that she was never seen in public without her spike heels that made her tall and her 4-5 pairs of panty hose (worn all at one time) that made her calves look good. Rumors and quirks aside, I LOVE DOLLY PARTON!!! How can you not? Any woman who can have one of her girls fall out of her dress as she goes out on stage and then say that's what happens when you try to stuff 10 pounds of potatoes in a 5 pound bag is my kind of girl!!! What an attitude! And what a voice! When I was little, Dolly had her own TV show. I can't remember for certain, but I think it came on after Hee Haw on Saturday nights. Yes, I loved Hee Haw too...and the Barbara Mandrell show. What has happened to TV anyway? None of that good stuff is on these days. I digress. My absolute favorite thing about the Dolly show was her entrance. It may have been one show for all I know, but I know that it stuck in my mind forever as totally cool!!!! You could hear her singing the start of "I will always love you" before you ever saw her. Then....are you ready...then she was lowered onto the stage from a swing. Like the swing in my own backyard! In my memory, she had on this glorious frilly sparkly pink dress and her wig was huge! And she came on stage from the air in a backyard swing singing "And I....will always love you...ooo oooo ooo". Her background to the stage was always this monsterous butterfly and to this day, I believe the butterfuly remains sort of her signature. Crazy I know, butI see butterflies and I think of Dolly. How many people can say that???? It's what makes me me!

pic of the day - the stick in the bucket

Last year, my next door neighbor came over with a stick in a bucket and offered it to me. "Wow" I thought...how thoughtful? He claimed it was a crepe myrtle that was growing where he didn't want it and was going ot throw it away. Instead, he thought I might like to have it. Trust me when I tell you that this stick in a bucket was just that, nothing more. A crepe myrtle though...."OK" I said, "I'll try it". In the ground it went. Unsure if it would live or die, be big or puny, ugly or pretty, I sort of stuck it in where I could fit it just to see what happened. Well, low and behold, it did grow last summer, but not into anything significant or substantial, and it certainly never bloomed. Honestly, I was beginning to question whether or not it was really a crepe myrtle. Fast forward to this summer and my once stick in a bucket transformed into a relatively prominent shrub in my landscaping. While it hadn't yet bloomed, I had determined that indeed it is a crepe myrtle and that I might just have to find a bigger home next year. Last night, long after crepe myrtle season has hit its peak, I stepped outside to see that my lovely stick in a bucket had bloomed gorgeous pretty pink blooms!! It's beautiful and I really do not think I could have picked out a prettier shrub if I had tried. It will definitely need a bigger home next year. What once was on man's trash became my stick in a bucket that is now the pride of my garden. See what happens when we let ourselves be open?

This morning I awoke the strangest light outside. There was a golden yellow hue that seemed to envelope everything. It was lovely and erie all at the same time. I tried capturing it a few times with no success. Then I passed by my front door and it looked as if a yellow spotlight were being shone through the glass. The image truly does not provide the sense of strangeness and beauty that I experienced, but it certainly displays it in a way like no other. It made me think, as all things do, about the distortion of my thoughts and beliefs at times. One of the things that helps me to stay pretty happy most of the time is that I pretend. I choose to believe some things not exactly how they are because it's way more fun, just easier, or not quite as difficult to think about. For example, I choose to believe that George Clooney really wants to be with me, but simply doesn't want to put me through the woes of the spotlight. He's very kind that way :) When I stay in hotel room, I choose not to think about all of the icky things that could be lingering in the room from all the previous guests. Rather than drive myself absolutely crazy, I choose not to think about it. My thoughts distort the reality of what really is. In the same way, I know I am guilty of not being able to see things in the clear beautiful way they are meant to be seen because of my own misperceptions or insecurities. Sadly I have missed things because my expectations clouded how lovely it already was. Leaded glass is pretty, but when it comes to reality, I strive to look at life in as clear, honest way as possible.

pic of the day - yellow rose of texas

Yellow roses are without question my favorite flower. When I was little, I loved the song "The Yellow Rose of Texas". If my memory is correct , there was a TV show by the same name in which Cybyl Shepherd and Sam Elliot were the stars. I'm not sure how at the age of 5 at most I could think he was cool, but I sure did. I'm pretty sure it was a combination of the voice and the mustache. I had a thing for the bass singer in the Oak Ridge Boys too...again with the deep voice. Weird. I had never seen anyone with facial hair of that kind, and I thought it was pretty cool. I can remember trying to talk my dad into growing one just like it. When the movie Tombstone came out, he was, without question, my favorite character. Crazy I know. Again, it's the mustache. Now every everytime I hear him stump for the beef industry or Dodge trucks, I want to run out, fire up the grill and trade in my car.

While yellow roses carry sweet meaning for me for many reasons, I can't help the fact that I always hear that song and think of the mustache for just brief split second before ooooing and awwwwing. I giggle a little on the inside every time! Now you know.

pic of the day - when the chimes sing

Maybe it's the fact that I love the part of "It's A Wonderful Life" where everytime a bell rings, an angel gets its wings. It could be that one of my favorite toys as a child was that multi-colored bell thing that looked like a piano and you bonged it with the yellow batton...I know there's a real name for that, but my memory escapes me. I'm not sure just exactly why, but I love windchimes. Everytime I hear them sing, I feel like something special is happening. I may not know what it is, but it's happening and the chimes are letting me know. It's as if I'm supposed to listen...like they are a message to me. Sometimes they bring me comfort, as if someone I love is watching over me. Sometimes they trigger a memory. Sometimes they are a bit haunting. They always have meaning though.

This afternoon as I came home from work, something passed through. There was this wonderful cool breeze that totally squashed the oppressive heat that has plagued us for several days. There were little sprinkles of rain and that wonderful smell that comes along. It felt wonderful as I stood on the back porch watching Bertie run. Then I heard the chimes. I took a deep breath and waited for the meaning. It was a feeling of "Ahhhh" ....of peace...of OK. I still have no real idea of what that means, but I've never been let down before. I couldn't record the sound, but I could capture the moment...every time the chimes sing.

pic of the day - enjoy your bathroom floor

I knew this day would come. It actually took longer than I thought. To say I'm quite proud of myself is an understatement. This challenge I've given myself to take a picture a day finally proved to be nearly unobtainable today - if it weren't for Bertie. It's just been one of those days. The morning was rushed - a result of hitting that wonderful snooze button one too many times, the fact that I woke up starving making a bowl of cereal a priority over showering on time, and wanting to wear something that needed to be ironed. It's funny how all those little extra 5 minute tasks add up. There was no time for smelling the roses or seeing the light this morning.

My office is rather drab and I'm in the middle of finishing some big projects so scoping out the campus was not an option during the day. Lunch was fraught with trying squeeze in an errand or two on top of eating a bite at home while giving Bertie her mid-day potty break. After work, I hurried out to my folk's house for dinner, and while there may have been a moment or two worth capturing, of course I had no camera. I had a list of other errands that needed to be run that couldn't wait until Saturday so a quick trip home to provide Bertie yet another potty-break and supper was next on the list. Upon pulling in the driveway, I noticed the driveway was wet. Further inspection showed me that my entire front landscaping, yard, and that of my neighbor was totally saturated with the water now shooting like "Old Faithful" from my front hose. I swear with all memory in me that I turned the water off last night after giving the flowers a much needed drink, yet today, it was on and the pressure combined with the heat burst through the hose. Now that would have been some picture. Nevermind that...no time...errands to run! While out, of course there was a glorious sunset and again I had no camera. Upon returning home, I found my poor doggy who'd been alone the greater part of 13 hours ready to bounce off the walls. After a mighty game of tug of war, laps around the backyard, obliterating 2 toys, she took a swan dive onto the bathroom floor to cool her belly. AND I HAD MY CAMERA! Yes folks, that's as good as it gets today.

Some days are just filled to the brim with demands and tugs and pulls and things you just have to do. It's ok if the best thing that happens in a day is to sprawl out and cool your belly. If it weren't for the hectic times, we would never know to treasure the bathroom floor of our lives. Ok, so I don't sprawl out on the bathroom floor, but if it weren't for the many demands we face and the challenges we overcome, would we really appreciate the beauty of rest? I may not have gotten a cool memorable publishable shot, but I had a great laugh at Bertie's frog-like pose. All my errands are done. I had a nice dinner with my parents. My projects at work are nearly complete. And now I'll enjoy my rest.

pic of the day - the other side of the leaf

I love this shot. I shoot it over an over again every time the opportunity arises. There is something special about the other side of the leaf making such a pretty picture. Normally, it is the right side of the leaf that is the preferred side. I can't think of a single flower arrangement that I've seen where the underneath side of the leaf is purposely shown. I have never seen a potted plant displayed upside down so the other side of the leaves can be viewed. No one that I know of has ever gotten down on the ground, looked up, and exclaimed, "Oh what a pretty plant!"

The addition of a simple ray of light changes everything. Everything! From my normal position, this leaf looked as bland and heat stunned as any other leaf among my flowers and plants. A slight change of angle and a view into the sun illuminates the ordinary leaf like fireworks on the 4th of July or the tree at Christmas. No longer is the leaf its normal plain self, but instead the other side of the leaf is so much more. And it's the light that makes it all possible.

I think I spend too much of my time going through life only seeing the bland ole view you get from a regular glance. What would happen if we suddenly started changing our view? If we looked at things from a different angle? Most importantly what if we all took a look into the light? Would we see things of beauty as they are meant to be seen? Would we see that there is so much more out there for us to enjoy if we only took the time? If we only saw the light. What about me? What does my other side look like? Am I offering a view with the light shining through? I think this offers a whole new meaning to the phrase "turning over a new leaf".