holga

Now, really, where did July go? I can't believe it's already August. Anyway, what have I been doing? Well, I made a pact with myself that this summer would be the time I'd start shooting film. So, that's exactly what I've done. I'm shooting 120 film with two holga cameras (one is a pinhole). These cameras are not the fancy, heavy slr cameras. They are cheap. They are light. And they are plastic. Most of all, they are so unpredictable and so much fun. I had forgotten the thrill of film. You remember, don't you? Loading the film. Taking the entire roll, how ever long that takes. Sending off your film for development and printing. Waiting. Waiting. And Waiting. Then finally, speeding to the pharmacy (or wherever) to get those pictures. Forking over the cash and making a mad dash to the car to peek (very quickly) at the pictures [pretending you are very patient and honest and that you would never look at those precious photos before you got home]. Well, that's it folks. That's the excitement I've been experiencing. Only my story is a little different. Let's say, I have a little more control. I develop the film in my kitchen (*fun*), and scan the negatives with a Nikon scanner and pull the images into Photoshop. Then after cropping, etc., they are little digital babies. And, I'm here to tell you that I'm an addict. So, if you are digging through your parents or grandparents attics and come across one of those "old skool" film cameras, do not just toss it in the garbage! Drag it out. Buy some film. Get excited. Slow down. Wait (even if you peek). And teach your children where photography has come from. Happiness!

haircut

It was time. Last Friday we took Celia for her first "real" haircut. I'd trimmed the back of her hair once, months ago, and cut her bangs, but this time she went to the good 'ole 'beauty parlor.' Now, to understand this accurately you must know the background about this 'beauty parlor.' This is not the fancy, serve you coffee or wine sort of salon place. Nor is it embellished with trendy hair posters of sexy bombshells and stud muffin men. No, no, no, this place does not have shelves and shelves of hair product tempting the smallest cent in your pocket. This 'beauty parlor' is plain and simple a place where you get your hair cut. But, what makes this place so special is Debbie. Debbie has cut John Paul's hair since his first haircut and cut his 3 older sisters' hair before that. She has cut the four grandchildren's hair, since their first haircut. She cuts John Paul's parents' hair every other week, not to mention the countless friends of our family whom she has treated the same; Debbie is part of the family. Debbie is a sweetie who has photos of my niece and nephew on her little tack board. And, now, Debbie has cut the 5th grandchild's hair (Samuel won't get near a pair of scissors to save his life!). Let me tell you, this was not the sweet storybook experience you might expect. Oh no! This was Holy Hell. Celia started off happy and ignorant, if you will, of what was to come. She giggled, climbed up and down from the salon hair dryers. She sang. She danced. She looked through a magazine. She moved the cushion from chair to chair. Then it was time. It was time for Celia to scream a dreadful cry and sit tortured through 5 minutes of, plain and simple, haircut. I'm certain that you could hear her wails outside. John Paul braced her flailing body as I snapped as many photos as I could. She finally buried her head in his chest in a final surrender. I was so fearful that this haircut would be as 'crooked as a dog's leg,' but it is actually very cute. I was so surprised when Debbie told me that she cut it shorter in the back and angled longer toward the front. I wondered how she could cut any of it strait, let alone not cut herself throughout the ordeal. She's a pro. That's for sure. Better her than me. I just take the pictures around here. :)

kitchen light

Yesterday my new lens arrived! I am in love, all over again! It is exactly what I've been wanting! And, after dinner I had the perfect opportunity to use it. Celia was in her high chair while I was washing the dinner dishes; when I turned around the light was amazing! It was naturally so lovely, and Celia was the perfect subject. She sat through 12 or so shots before she got a little ticked. I moved fast! Enjoy your light.

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packages

Shhh...it's a surprise! The kids decorated a couple packages yesterday. Of course Celia had marker from head to toe so we had to switch to crayons! I think a certain father in the house will be very happy! :)

You tell me...

Okay, so I have met very, very few people who see the similarities between Celia and myself. Do you see it? I know that really, she does look so much like Johnny that it is scary, but from time to time I see myself in her. What do you think?

Apple Pie Time

Whenever there is a break in school either fall, winter, spring, or summer I always load up on the perishables and other items that the cafeteria manager is giving away. This year I took home potatoes, apples, pretzels, pepper jack cheese, and carrots. Needless to say, Sam has been snacking on the cheese and pretzels, while the carrots are awaiting their doom as the main cake ingredient (shhh, for Father's Day) and the apples have already been used in an apple/blueberry/strawberry cobbler, and this delicious apple pie. I have to admit that I've been working on my crust for a while now. And, finally, I think I have arrived! I always use my grandmother's crust recipe but this time I added a few special ingredients. Also, I combine my mother-in-law's cobbler filling with my grandmother's. Oh My! It really is a perfect marriage of ingredients. I'd share the recipe, but I'm a little secretive about it right now. Happy eats to you, where ever you are!

They did it, again.

Yesterday Sam and I rescued this little bird from the torture of our cats (and dog!). We weren't quite sure what to do with it; so, after consulting the husband, we hoarded up all the cats inside and placed the bird under our neighbor's hosta. After a few hours at the pool we had one escapee cat. You know the end of the story. Celia had her first experience of death and John Paul dug the burial site hole (the 2nd or third). Sorry baby bird. We love cats.