Meeting Colleen

Alternately titled: The day I wanted to smack a complete stranger upside the head.

I drove into town with one simple thought trying to drown out all the others that were crashing around like pin-balls in my head.

"There has got to be a hippo around here somewhere."

It was a futile attempt to calm the butterflies in my stomach. I even managed to hit one of the potholes on our stretch of road, and I do know exactly when and where to swerve to avoid them all. It would have been a fine time for a flat tire. I'm about due for one. It's been a few weeks.

Not only was I about to meet one of my best friends from inside my computer in real life... if she was, in fact, not a psycho serial killer (or a man!) I planned to drag her and her crew back to my farm for the rest of the day.

It's a funny thing. Meeting someone that you already know so well, but haven't actually met before. Someone who can recognize your kids at a glance, and greet you by name with a big hug. It may surprise you, but neither of us was too mentally unstable, and our day turned out to be entirely wonderful.

Why does it take someone visiting from far away to finally get us to a local attraction? This is real excitement, check out my kids' faces.


{they weren't ready to socialize yet}

The Bean has been calling buffalo "A moo feet!" ever since.

One of us (ahem) encouraged our adult child to sit on some playground equipment next to a sign that said something like "small children only please". It was a photo opportunity, of course. But shortly after that, the unthinkable happened.



I saw a Dad chasing his kid with an obnoxiously large (fabulous) L-series Canon lens. I shot him a knowing smile, since he was obviously a kindred spirit. But a few minutes later, my jaw dropped.

The dude was using his camera's pop-up flash with that very (very!) expensive lens. I whispered my disbelief in Colleen's direction. She peeked around the corner and confirmed it. Flash flash flash. Wrong wrong wrong.

We spent the next two minutes trying to get Colleen's pop-up flash to activate. In automatic mode. In the same lighting. Just to see if we could.

We failed.

If we had crossed paths with the ignorant photographer again, I fear I may have:
a. asked him how he liked the shadow that flash and huge lens cast across his pictures (truly people, it does)
b. mentioned that the thing he had attached to the middle of his lens was actually not a convenient handle, but a tripod mount
c. smacked him upside the head
d. wondered aloud what he was trying to compensate for
e. any combination of the above

Unfortunately Fortunately, we didn't see him again, so I had to be content with dramatically complaining about the shame of it all. Which I did. With flailing arms. At regular intervals throughout the rest of the day. It didn't make me feel any better, but I never gave up trying.

I'm over it now, because I've decided it must have been his wife's camera. Groan about it, dear reader, but it's the only scenario that makes any sense.

Anyway, after admitting that I had no knowledge of local hippos, we headed out for lunch. Thankfully I documented it with this poor excuse of a photo, because we got so busy chatting and laughing that we didn't take another of ourselves (together) the rest of the day.


{maybe I should have used my pop-up flash with my big lens}

Oh, wait. I don't have a pop-up flash.

They were adventurous enough to follow us out to the middle of nowhere, and we spent the afternoon laughing, bemoaning the fact that we live so far away from each other, watching our kids play with kittens and climb the woodpile and navigate the popcorn maze. A chick even pooped on one of Colleen's girls.

I had planned a simple meal at home, but it never crossed my mind what a gift that would be. Colleen and her crew had been on the road for nearly two weeks. After she said "Thank you" something like ten times, I finally understood what she meant.

After dinner we took our cameras out. Colleen has been dreaming of an upgrade, so I handed over my big camera. She has the skills to use it well. Except...



Except I may have forgotten that I have so many custom functions set on that thing, it might as well have been something off a NASA space shuttle. Silly, silly me.

Colleen, it was so fun having you all here. Saying "Goodbye" was painful, and I miss you and your beautiful family already!