Uninspired

It's March, and I'm completely uninspired. It doesn't seem like enough of an excuse this year. I mean, winter really just arrived, and it's not even cold. Are these days we call March reason enough?

I look back in my blog archive for March of last year, and the year before.

Yep. Uninspired. I can feel it in my words, see it in my pictures.



There's our snow fence. It's the only thing I want to take pictures of anymore.

Thankfully March doesn't last forever.

Pink tulips

I bought myself some flowers, which has nothing to do with Valentine's Day. They're pretty, and whether it feels like it or not, it is winter.



Winter allows for self-indulgent things that make me happy. Like hot cocoa with a tiny bit of instant coffee, and fresh cut flowers that did not grow anywhere near here.



It's an acceptable way of self-medicating for these tiring February days.

Pink is so not my color. I like these anyway.



They remind me that it's warm enough to grow things somewhere, and that my turn will come.


Shot with the Lensbaby 2.0, no longer available - similar to the Lensbaby Muse
and super wide angle accessory

But not the raspberries

Just when I think my KinderGARDEN updates are all starting to look the same... leave it to my kids to switch things up a bit.

But first, we have sunflowers. The big ones.



The really, really really big ones. Really big.



Where's a kinder for perspective when I need one?

Before we continue any further, I need to provide a public service announcement. Go take some tylenol. Yes, now. Or the anti-nausea medication, whatever that's called. I got out my lensbaby. Just uploading these pictures was enough to give me a headache.

I did it for the wide-angle view. And, no, I'm not sorry.

Just go take the tylenol. You'll be fine.

Okay, so instead of ripping around in the popcorn maze and sunflower hallway like we always do, the boys decided to flatten the cattails. They're tall too. And fun.

Why?

Because the corral has finally dried out enough that their Daddy mowed around the swamp as best he could, leaving a perfectly enticing island of cattails. It is September after all.

Why not?



Why do all my pictures of this kid look the same?



But this kid. I can hardly manage to get his head into any pictures at all.


{that's the best you get, and yes I tried}

The Bean had so much fun harvesting sweet corn these last few weeks, she didn't want to stop.

Ummm... that's not sweet corn.



Oh. By the way. Our popcorn is nowhere near ready.

And I won't bother to show you our raspberries. Because I do that every week.







Or would you miss that if I left it out?

Nevermind.

KinderGARDENS week 18

Scavenger Hunt, January 30

I'm having an identity crisis with my blog changes lately, but I decided to keep using my "old nichols farm" watermark here too, because it matches my flickr username.

Scavenger hunt at Ashley's!

1. Texture

The dim lighting in our basement that required ISO 5000



and ISO 6400



definitely added some texture to these. I am totally embracing the grain my 5DII gives at extreme high ISO settings. It's so uniform and pretty. Almost film-like in a way. (yes, these are also lensbaby shots)


2. Fog

I really tried. I tried to get the fog in my breath since it was a lovely -5F. But it was also windy and it blew away too fast. Apparently, I wasn't outside long enough because my glasses didn't fog up when I came back in. And then when I took a hot shower, I guess our house is really really dry because the bathroom mirror didn't even fog up.

So I'm posting a pic from last November. Not fog literally, but I was shooting through a mental and emotional fog during my Grandpa's burial ceremony.



3. Button

Hey little Bean, could you show me your button?



YAY! Again?



Okay. Nevermind. Where is your brother?



Those are my very favorite buttons. I love their oldest brothers the best of all, but he wasn't here to show his off.

4. Beverage



Hmmm... two hands looks silly. Maybe I shouldn't have spent all that time setting up the tripod, and just gone with one hand.

5. Seventies

Seriously!? This one had me completely perplexed.

It's all about personal interpretation, right? Right.

I give up.

Mmmm... happy.

I tried to take a picture of one floating in a glass of milk. But it sank before I got my camera settings right. So I had to eat it.

I dropped another one in the glass. It sank too. I ate it.

Third time's the charm, right? Nope. I ate that one too.

It wasn't such a bad deal.



You Capture - Happy

How the rubber chicken rides

In a period of less than 30 hours:

We had an appointment with a neuropsychologist during which our oldest son told his Daddy to "pass gas" for Mommy. Except he used a different word.



Then during the long ride home, we endured the many sounds that accompany the dear-Lord-please-let-this-drama-be-over-soon moments of a child's first loose tooth. It was excruciating. For all of us.

A little orange hen was invited into our kitchen.

You all think you know where I'm going with this but you are soooooo wrong.

She sat calmly in the middle of the floor where the kids fed her popcorn and read her a stack of books including What's Up Duck. Apparently it was just what she needed.



She's feeling better now, thanks for asking.

The kid pulled his tooth out in the middle of the night. All by himself. Quietly. Then he repeatedly lost and found it in his bedding while he waited for morning. I, on the other hand, hardly slept because I was terrified of the horrors that I knew that loose tooth would unleash upon us the following day.

For once, I was pleasantly surprised.

But not for long.

Our impulsive four-year-old was viciously attacked by a toilet seat. He was lucky to have escaped with only minor injuries to the middle toe of his right foot. I'll spare you any further details of that one.


{ISO 25600, just because I can}

And, although the rubber chicken is that close to having beads explode out it's... ummm... rear end, still it rides on the rear view mirror. I'm starting to wonder if I should put it out of it's misery.

Making fish

I finally found out what our six year old wants for Christmas. What he really, really wants.

Just to put this in perspective, for his birthday last year he wanted plumbing. Pipes, couplings, hoses, and a pump... it was all he wanted. And believe me, his joy was complete.

I tell no lie.

For Christmas, he wants fish. Specifically, six inches long, with a one inch tail.

I love that kid so much.

Thankfully, I keep a shoebox stashed full of fish-making supplies. Living way out here on the frozen tundra, it would be nothing short of foolish not to.



That kid deserves to have fish.

I wonder if I should have measured them?

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

Focus

The auto-focus is messed up on my camera. It's front-focusing.

It's so frustrating.

Most of the images I've been posting lately were manually focused. This is just plain wrong. It shouldn't have to be done. It also means it was nothing more than dumb luck that I nailed the focus on Mr. Underwear's beautiful eyeball.

It's also frustrating to no end when I, myself, can't stay properly focused.

If I forget a load of laundry, I have to stay up late to get it done. If I lose track of our pantry and freezer, meal planning becomes frantic and stressful. If we don't have the boys pick up their stuff on some sort of semi-regular basis, it spills over into every room in the house. If I don't immediately fold the clean clothes that are piled high on the couch, the little Bean will put it back in the dirty clothes hamper. She's such a helpful little thing.

Since my camera can't focus to save it's life, I've been playing with my lensbabyand it's super-wide angle attachment (which allows macro capabilities). It has to be manually focused anyway. It looks bizarre, with that short piece of wobbly hose attached to the camera.



When things are properly focused, it makes all the difference.

I'm trying to remember, also, that if my house is a disaster because I spent the entire day playing with my babies... my focus is right where it needs to be.

Clean clothes are just a luxury anyway, right?

Linking up with Macro Monday

Vulnerability

This month, the discussion at Shutter Sisters has centered around embracing imperfection. It's a great theme, really.

Imperfection is all around us.

Society tells us we must be perfect. But we can't.

I smile in church on Sunday morning, but the fact is our little family was beyond frustrated with each other in our attempt to get there on time. The weeds pulled from my garden return again and again. I put on my good shoes to go into town, then step in chicken poop on my way to the car. When I pack up everything the kids need for a weekend at Grandma's house, without a doubt, I'll forget to pack underwear for myself. I try to be a good mom, but I yell at my kids.

Our world is broken, and so are we. It's just a part of who we are.

But there is One who is perfect, who takes my imperfections daily.


{I take too many pictures of raspberries}

We fall.

But there are things hidden inside that we might not otherwise find.


{there were three beetles but I wasn't fast enough}

Exploring imperfection has helped me understand why you'll find very few posed portraits of my kids here. Sure, I'll attempt nice posed shots for friends and family who ask. (The photographers who manage to do that impossible task are immensely talented.) But what I really adore, the photos that grab my heart and take my breath away, are the lifestyle-type shots.

The moments that just happen.

The moments that are real and true and honest.

The moments are are messy and imperfect.

The moments that we are vulnerable.

The moments that make up this life.

I cannot explain

Did it spontaneously combust? Or die of a horrific fly-sneeze?



There it was. Clinging to the glass of our bedroom window. Stiff and crusty.

I've seen it happen before. All summer I find them, dead, hanging from my clothesline... from leaves on tomato plants... from the kids swingset. But only when they're attached to windows do they really fascinate me. Part of them vaporizes from beneath and splatters all over the window. I don't get it.

Best of all, if I don't get it cleaned up right away, I have to use a razor to scrape it off. And I swear it's true.

But the real question is, do I have nothing better to blog about than dead flies?

Barnyard Bokeh:



1. Barn.
2. Leaky barn roof.
3. The other even more crappy barn.
4. Another little leaky falling down shed where I get to keep my gardening stuff. Lucky me.
5. The windmill almost made it into the picture. Actually it's not falling down one bit and is really quite cool. (and good for climbing)
6. Horny rooster crowing and a bunch of annoyed hens scratching around under an orchard that isn't impressive at all yet.
7. Green grass where hoses and pipes are intricately assembled by a six year old plumber.
8. Sneaky hidden chicken nest back in the pasture. What the heck. When they quit laying eggs in both the coop and the doghouse, I know there is funny business going on. They can't fool me.
9. Dirt. I'm surprised there is any left outside anymore.
10. More dirt which circles the entire house, which is certainly better than the moat which was there before, which was a result of our drain-tile project this summer, which means our basement is sort of dry now.

Have I mentioned we have frogs in the basement?

The end.

PS. This post is my husband's fault, because he insisted I take a picture of the remains of that exploding fly.

PPS. If you're subscribed by email, this post is brought to you twice, courtesy (again) of my husband who was being a pest and somehow caused me to "publish post" when this was only half-written. Awesome.

Seeing the small things

Madeline Bea's creative prompt: Spiral

I was minding my own business getting raspberry juice all over my hands when this caught my eye.



A small gap in the corral fence, stitched together with wire.

It's a boy

Of the four that survived, two went to school.

Two stayed home. One of them hatched yesterday. One hatched today.

Hatched. I can't imagine that's the proper term for it. Emerged?

Whatever.



It's crazy stuff. Their bodies get broken down and rearranged.

Remember these?



Rearranged.

And yes, it's definitely a boy.



It's easy to tell, you just have to know where to look.

No, not there.

Here.



The two black spots along the veins in the hind wings are scent glands. No question about it, he's a boy.

And he can fly.



Unless something got him already, he's on his way to Mexico right now. It's quite a journey. He's not likely to make it. But he might.

The one that hatched emerged today was a girl. Unfortunately, I didn't get any pictures of her.

The Bean wanted to hold it, so I restrained her and gently set it on the back of her hand. Her laughter turned to dismay when it suddenly flew up and landed on her head.

She would have squashed it if I had released my grip on her to reach for my camera. You'll just have to trust me, the whole package was pretty darn cute.

She's headed to Mexico now too. Not my Bean. The butterfly.

Hidden treasure

After we got our big kindergartner on his bus yesterday, and watched that cloud of dust go down the gravel road for the very first time, it seemed strange with him gone. We needed something different to do. So I grabbed my two younger ones and we set off in search of something special.

I figured the chance of us finding it was actually quite good, since the adults have been migrating through our yard by hundreds and hundreds, these the last two days.

It didn't take long before we were immersed in the magic. We found one!



We got up close and inspected it thoroughly.


{See the hovering fly?}

Then we collected it. Someone giggled because it left a trail of tickles on his hand.



Next we found a super-tiny itty bitty one. So, so small. You may not believe it, but we even found one tinier than this.



But there were plenty of big ones too.



We built a little cardboard mansion and gathered a banquet of milkweed for them. Now we watch and wait.

For me, personally, this is something really special. My Dad got me interested in insects when I was little. I searched year after year looking for Monarch caterpillars. I never found a single one.

You Capture - "Outside"

All photos on this post were shot with the lensbaby 2.0 and the super-wide angle accessory.

Also, yes I have a bunch of pictures of the Monarchs migrating through our backyard, and I did use a real lens for that. I'll get some of those pictures up soon.