Challenge 7.7.08

This weeks challenge was to use this grunge photo treatment by Katie Pertiet.

I miss my munchkin.
Credits: Grunge Frame: Katie Pertiet, Heart Frame: Scarlet Heels, Fonts: Ashley K. and Hannibel Lecter.

passing a church . . .

it's marquee caught my eye :

You can't direct the wind
but you can adjust the sails.

Think about it.

monday morning . . .

I knew this would happen. This week's lesson talks about aperture and my brain shut down, just like it always does when bombarded with numbers that go the wrong way and more light equaling less of an area in focus. ACK. It all seems so convoluted. But I am hanging in there and bugging the freckles off everyone, trying to get this straight. I will learn this, this time. I will, I will, I will.

In the meantime, I went to the gym and did 1/2 hour on the tread mill or as I like to refer to it: 180.2 calories. Ran through my machines for a total one hour work out, came home and consumed 592 calories in a cute little ham and cheese on a hard roll with mayo. Talk about convoluted. Snort.


Here's another shot of Katie, just to make me feel better:

it was a good weekend . . .

my munchkin came home in time to go to the fireworks and we had lots of mom/kidlet time to catch up . . . nosh . . . play rummy . . . take a drive up the ocean with the top down and my most favorite . . . an impromptu photo shoot. Well, maybe not a totally off the cuff photo shoot, because I was whining a lot about not having any recent shots . . . never under estimate the power of a mom in need of photos of her child . . . but she gracefully acquiesced.

Here my favorite:

She has headed back to school and I am waiting up for her call to say she got there safely. If you're a mom, you understand . . .

memories . . .

I was starting to reply to my friend Sue's comment, telling her I am a complete sucker for fireworks, parades, and family bbq's and got off track, lost in my own memories. When I was a kid growing up in the 50's, we used to have a Fourth of July parade every year. I'm not talking about the whole town, just the neighborhood. All the kids would dress in red/white and blue and weave r/w/b crepe paper through their bicycle wheels or clip playing cards to their spokes with an old clothes pin. It was a race to see whose bike made the loudest clacketety clack. There were little kids being pulled in little red wagons waving American Flags, old men in uniform, ladies bearing homemade cakes and pies. We would all march down Cedar Road to the lake, neighbors hanging out in lawn chairs in front of their homes to watch the festivities and cheer us on. Final destination . . the club house on the lake. Now, about this club house, don't be thinking fancy smancy, it had four wooden sides and a roof atop a cement floor . . . screened windows with wooden covers hooked back to the ceiling flanked one side and it sported one of those old creaky screen doors on a spring that closed with a resounding thwack! The work areas had been painted over so many times and blistered from the heat but those women would scrub them til they darn near shined. There were hot dogs and hamburgers cooked over an old round red charcoal grill, dripping with homemade relishes and chutney from someones spring garden, spicy potato salads, and coleslaw ripe with celery seeds. But those desserts. Oh my. Apple goo bubbled over the sides and out the air holes . . . blueberry crisps oozing with goodness . . . and homemade ice cream straight from the churn. Only the dreaded rhubarb pie sat forlornly and unappreciated in our eyes. We'd spend the rest of the day in the water until our lips were blue and our finger tips shriveled and water logged. We had sparklers when the sun finally went down but nothing so expensive as fireworks. No matter. We'd drag our tired bodies back up the hill and into bed, dirty feet and all. Those were days worth remembering.

Candice Stringham, you ROCK!!!!

Katie, Stephanie, Kaity, Annette, Frank and I were once again part of the amazing massive crowd gathered to watch the fireworks over the river. Love, love, love this event. And this year, to make it even better, I actually managed to get some shots of the fireworks, leaving with a huge grin on my face instead of my usual, I didn't get one single shot, frustrated scowl. My family thanks you, Candice, from the bottom of their hearts. So without further ado .

and last but not least, a smiley face!!!

Amazing what you can learn with the right instructor.

this and that . . .

my photography class is going well . . . meaning at least I didn't shut down when Candice started teaching. Unlike the books I have read, trying to teach myself, she explains things so even I get it! Amazing. So our first exercise was to take control of the shutter speed while letting the camera handle the aperture . . . not so tough. One shot at 1/60 and one at 1/800.

Lookie, lookie. I did it!!

Wish I had known this when I had that photo op at the track. Wow, what a difference that would have made. But better late then never.

So, we were talking late, now lets talk about early . . . I am so jazzed about heading to Savannah that I started on the album already. Yeah, I know, I may regret this but in the meantime, I am having fun with glue and paper, felt, buttons, sparkles etc. . . . no wonder kindergarten is so much fun!! Here's the cover.

The back looks much the same minus the texture.