Boys climbing

Deb Schwedhelm is the guest judge over at I Heart Faces this week, which means I have got to enter. The way she captures emotion and does magic with a lensbaby is so inspiring to me.

And. She has the most amazing hair I've ever seen.

Oh, sorry. Am I off topic again?

Nevermind.



The boys were showing off the "upstairs" of their lilac house. Busy busy busy.



This week's theme is "scenic black and white", requiring a person (not necessarily a face for this week) somewhere in the photo. I looked up the definition of "scenic" and I'm still not sure this qualifies. They didn't specify "landscape".

Ladybugs

I bought a gorgeous Hibiscus tree last summer. It's a magnificent thing.

It's the kind of potted lovely you put outside to soak up summer and then rescue when the days get colder. Maybe you wouldn't have to invite it in the house where you live. But here, well, it wouldn't be magnificent at all if I had left it to fend for itself. Not a chance.

Did I mention it was all of twelve dollars?

There may have been a reason for that.

From the day I promised to love it forever, and brought it home, it's been infested with aphids. Impressively so. But the strange thing is, it doesn't seem to mind.

At one point I stuck it inside our barn when a severe thunderstorm rolled over our farm. It was safe from the hail but not the wind. After my beautiful beautiful Hibiscus fell over, someone's dang chickens ate every bloom, every leaf, every bit of green they could find on it. And by default, they ate the aphids too.

Chickens are nothing but trouble. Don't let anyone convince you otherwise.

It appeared to be a horribly tragic ending.

The Hibiscus grew back prettier than ever.

So did the aphids.

I've washed the dumb thing with soapy water. At least three times. These aphids are impressive too.

But the good news!

We keep finding ladybugs in the house!



Oh wait. That one doesn't eat aphids. At least to the best of my knowledge.

The other ones, we relocate them to ladybug paradise.



Where do they come from? Honestly, as long as they're not boxelder bugs or gigantic furry spiders, I really don't care.

These are the happiest ladybugs on the face of the earth.



It's really something to watch them create aphid-free zones. Although it's an uphill battle for them, they don't complain.



Linking up with Macro Monday

So it begins

It happened so fast.

In the blink of an eye, somehow, the green and gold...





gave way to blue and white.



This shade of blue plays tag with the kind of cold that feels like winter.



And the white isn't just white, it sparkles.



It happens every year, but still, every year it takes me by surprise.

And with the snow...

My main goal for this evening was to straighten out our front entryway. Basically, it's an eternal disaster.

Because of a certain epic drain-tile project, because we no longer have a sidewalk or concrete patio or steps going up to our front door, because we have to use the other door beside the front door which isn't technically our front door, because it snowed... I was going to do this tonight. Designate clean and dirty zones, specific hooks and baskets for each kid's winter junk, the type of thing that makes sense to a mom but will probably never be followed for more than a day or two.

Before I attacked the entryway I wanted to close the chicken coop for the night.

I filled an empty milk jug with warm water. I grabbed the hat that I wore last night when I shoveled the coop out. Goo fell into my eye. Most likely, literally, crap. Strangely, this didn't bother me as much as the thought of walking through our disastrous entryway.

I tiptoed around the mud in the entryway, determined to make it to my boots without getting my socks dirty.

This was apparently too lofty a goal.

Far, far too lofty.

Between me and my boots were three steps. I expected that. What I didn't expect was the slick of thick wet mud and slushy snow completely covering every square inch of these three steps, as well as the landing where my boots sat, mocking me. I put my jug of water down because, apparently, I can think better with both hands free.

After a long minute and some grumbling I aimed my toes for the very edge of the first step.

I kicked the jug of water over.

It poured down and across all three steps, soaked the bottom of my pant leg, and my entire sock. I probably don't need to mention what a happy little clam I was.

I squish, squish, squished my way back into the kitchen, searching for a towel. I looked back, saw my wet sock prints in the carpet and sighed. The sigh of defeat. I slogged back through the stairs of despair and shoved my wet feet into my boots.

Then I realized my gloves were still in the kitchen. Seven degrees Fahrenheit outside? Eighteen mile per hour wind? Who needs gloves?

I stepped outside into a sparkling winter wonderland. With each step more and more snow packed into my boots, which I had failed to zip up. Evening chores completed, I headed back into the house and up the soggy muddy steps: feet wet, hands cold, and two eggs in my coat pocket.

But I learn!

I do not make the same mistake twice!

I covered my coat pocket with my hand, feeling those two fragile eggs inside it. Last Friday when I bent over to take my boots off, two eggs rolled out of my pocket and down the steps. Down the steps, leaving a smattering of egg on each one. Crack, crack, crack, splat. If that's not thrilling I don't know what is.

But I learned my lesson! I wasn't going to lose these eggs!

And then, I guess, I needed to take my hand off my pocket to pull my boot off. Or something.

Crack, crack, splat.

{sigh}

For real. Right into the wet muddy yuck.

Maybe we should just use the back door.

It felt like home

We were in the big city, and it felt like home.



Winter was blowing around our car, a bit of melted ice framed the view out the front windshield, but we were warm and cozy inside. Low clouds softly bounced the city lights all around.



Early winter. The chill. Soft lights. Being cozy. It felt like home.

Cheating for a scavenger hunt

I had decided to join Ashley's scavenger hunt this week before I saw the list of items. And there it was. The self portrait. I told Ashley it was fate. She told me to use one from my archives. It sounded like a good idea to me. Why be creative when I can just be lazy?

1. Self portrait

Everyone seemed so fascinated with this one. If you're curious, I explained how I got this shot HERE.



But I really like this one. Mostly just because I feel like such a rebel.



I'm rather intrigued and obsessed with the process of taking self portraits. It's like opening a jar full of monkeys (or opening the door to the chicken coop). You just never know what's going to happen.

2. Handmade


Great Grandma F. made hats for everyone. It brought her much joy. She made this one for our little Bean. We didn't know she was going to be a girl, but apparently Grandma did. She passed away a month before the Bean was born.

3. Orange


All he wanted was some lovin'. All I wanted was to keep him more than a foot and a half away from me for just a few seconds so I could get this shot. Prior to that, we had a little commotion. I told him it wasn't classy to steal bread from the chickens and then smack them when they tried to take it back. Then again, chickens are thieves too. Maybe it was good for them.

I did not add a vignette to that photo. Approximately 2.7 seconds later it began to snow.

4. Candle

Epic FAIL! I wasted how much of my life trying to get a decent photo of a candle? I'm just going to pretend this wasn't on the list.

5. Traffic signals or signs


Some very odd things have been left here by previous residents: wedding photographs in the basement, pheasant in the freezer, a gigantic satellite dish in a tree row, a human foot buried in the backyard, a barn cat (see above). And some sort of road construction or detour sign, or at least part of it.

When saddles aren't enough

You would be entertained too, if your chickens looked like pincushions. I mean, if you had them, of course. Because sometimes chicken saddles just aren't enough.


{try not to laugh, she's having a bad day}

Just wait until I show you what her bottom side looks like!

Dear Rebel,

My sweet little second-hand XTi, how I've loved you so. You have taught me so much.

We've spent countless hours together, your strap across my shoulder, my grimy face pressed into your lcd screen. I know every curve and scratch on you. I know every one of your buttons by touch alone. I know exactly where a perfect exposure should fall on your light meter.

We've thrown away at least a thousand or two images, but to be perfectly honest, I believe we've made a few beautiful ones too.


{Rebel XTi}

But we need to talk.

This random malfunctioning and front-focusing business is completely unacceptable.

When I ask you to focus on a certain point, it's because I really do want to focus there. Not over there. You can't fool me into thinking it's user error. I know you too well.

And when I need to change my shutter speed that means I need to change it now. It's not optional. Ever. Getting the correct shutter speed is, like, a vital part of taking a decent picture. I cannot imagine how you think locking up the shutter speed until I turn you off and back on half a dozen times could be good for our relationship.

But what has me completely perplexed and confused, is why... why on earth... when I've turned you OFF and removed the CF card, why would you think it's acceptable to turn yourself ON to "Program" mode. Program mode? Even when your switch is turned OFF? Seriously? When have we ever shot in Program mode?

I should not have to resort to yanking your battery out to turn you off. That is just ridiculous.

You have some serious issues going on here, and you know it's true.

Maybe it's my fault. Perhaps I disrespected and pushed you too hard. I wanted to see what you were capable of. Well, it's been made painfully obvious, but now I know.

You earned yourself the lensbaby full-time. If you want make bad pictures you might as well make really wacky ones while you're at it. We'll just call it art, okay?

You'll always have a very special place in my heart. But...

I found someone new.


{5D Mark II}

My friends, I pray this post doesn't come across as arrogant or ungrateful. The truth is, I am in complete shock and disbelief at how I've been blessed. I'm so overwhelmed by my sweet husband's support and encouragement, and humbled by his belief that I'm actually worthy of this glorious piece of equipment.

And now, my kiddos are in bed, it's dark out, and I'm off to play with some freakishly fantastic high ISO settings.

Serene

Last weekend we enjoyed some unbelievably gorgeous weather for this time of year. Like, short-sleeve-shirt not-even-a-breeze gorgeous weather. And although our daylight is shrinking day by day at an alarming rate, it means our late afternoon hours are saturated with that amazing light.



But not only was the weather perfect, and the light fabulous...



our Red rooster didn't bother us even once, and the kids dug in their sand-paraboloid with complete and utter joy.



Dare I also say the moisture content of the sand couldn't have been better? It's true.



But if I've learned anything as a mom, I've learned this: beautiful serene moments like these are, truly, only fleeting moments. As I lay there in the grass shooting my happy kids bathed in my favorite kind of light with my piece-o-crap Rebel, I knew. I knew the clock was ticking.

And the micro-second I turned my head?

The little Bean ran.



She ran far far away.

Thank you Lord, for barbed wire fences that have seen much better days, yet still do a fine job of slowing the escape of any semi-domesticated critters.

You Capture: serene

It was her idea

If I try to be a super-eco-freak by refusing to put the little Bean in disposable diapers when we head to the Big City for the day, it means I still have to wrap the wet cloth diapers in a plastic grocery bag until we return home.

If everyone (ahem) in this house used re-usable shopping bags, there would not be any plastic grocery bags multiplying in the cupboard.

If there were no plastic grocery bags in the house, I would use an empty Cheerios bag because if there is a way I will find it.

If the previously mentioned wadded up plastic grocery bag containing wet cloth diapers is on the floor of the car, the Bean's Daddy will throw it in the trash when we stop at a gas station in the Big City.

If cloth diapers end up in the trash, I wonder why the heck I even try.

If the pile of cloth diapers remaining at home is worryingly small, it won't matter because the eighteen month old little Bean will suddenly decide she is a big BIG girl.


{I can't get enough of her wispy hair}

If she proudly shows everyone in the house her pee in the potty chair, I become deaf from the roar of the cheering crowd.

If she makes it an entire two weeks with very few daytime wet diapers, I start to wonder if this isn't possibly, unbelievably, the very real deal.

Facing Myself - November Linky

Well my friends, I've got nothing for you today. Nothing.



I happened to make Cinnamon Bread today, which I thought perhaps might give me an interesting shot. It was interesting alright. The only thing I had to show for that attempt was a very greasy remote. Greasy, greasy, greasy.

Well, that and the bread which always turns out so amazing that I can immediately eat an entire loaf. And sometimes I do, but I never guilty about it. Never. Because it makes me happy.



Even better, the soaped-up remote still works.



I would certainly expect nothing less from a five dollar piece of plastic made in China. And thank goodness because how else could I bring you these fabulous self portraits?

I really outdid myself this time.

The linky is open for the rest of the month. Rules HERE.

I voted

Today I'm frustrated.

I'm dismayed because of some people's successful efforts to intentionally misinform voters keep the masses ignorant. But at the same time, I'm not surprised. Not surprised at all. Why should I expect anything to change?

The roads were the big issue this time around. I have an awful lot to say about that, but not here.



I voted. Because I can.


Paper Heart Camera: self portrait (mood)

Also, a reminder for my friends who like to play along with Facing Myself, the linky will go up Saturday. I'll be in a better mood by then, unless I have to drive into town.