Wednesday, April 30, 2008

8/365. Fun with Lingerie.

?? What is this...this...strapped, stretchy wonder ??

I will run through the house with it, brandishing it high above me with much joy and squeebling...

Looks big, doesn't it? The stretching capability pictured here is wasted on your humble narrator.


Tuesday, April 29, 2008


Monday, April 28, 2008


Spring? Maybe. Behold, our local forecast.

"One cold front moved across the Appalachians Monday morning. Another surge of even colder air will move through the region tonight with increasing NW winds. A few snow flurries and snow showers are possible overnight (possibly mixed with rain in lower elevations), especially at western mountaintops with a light dusting to perhaps as much as one inch possible in the highest elevations."

Oh my HELL Amanda!

After vehemently discussing with you the aggravation of typos, I discovered that...ah, GOD I don't even want to admit it...

I spell it like this.



Sunday, April 27, 2008


Sunday lunch. Pizza.

Saturday, April 26, 2008


Breaking news: Jackson likes the river. A lot.

So does his brother. But ya'll knew that already. So, not really news.

Off to crack open a beer and plop down in front of the TV with a bag of salted peanuts. In the shell.

Friday, April 25, 2008


It's too bad he looks nothing like his Daddy.

Spent a relaxing day at the park.

Then the weather betrayed us. Clouds rolled in and the wind picked up, blowing the hazy smoke from a local wildfire into our midst.

Me and Amanda? Wildfire EXPERTS. Nobody seemed to know about or see or smell the smoke. After internet confirmation that yes, there is a wildfire occuring nearby, we confirmed to each other that we are not crazy. No matter what they say.

Thursday, April 24, 2008


Quiet, cool, sunny morning. Windows open, fresh breezes floating through the house...

Jackson is watching "Bindi the Jungle Girl." Bindi is growing on me. As long as she doesn't sing and dance. I know...I'm a bad and evil person for saying that. It's just that when she does the song and dance, she seems like a puppet of adults.

LOVE Bindi's daddy, though.

Lookee who's come back to gorge themselves on nectar.

I put the feeders up yesterday. Today, while on the porch, the first one buzzed by my ear all in a hurry to GET. NECTAR. NOW. Sipsipsipsipsip, then up into the tree to spread territorial fear on the other two hummers who came out of nowhere.

Don't be sippin' on the Hatorade, bro. The ladies like it when you share.

Wednesday, April 23, 2008


Day one.

I have three photos. I couldn't choose just one.

Jackson's most cherished book:

My mom got this book for Seth when he was a baby. Simply named. "Little Pup." Inside are little animals that pop out of different spots. A cat, A turtle, a parrot, a rabbit. Jackson loses his whole mind over this. How can it be? These animals that appear from nowhere? It is all too much. He dissolves into laughter.

Self portrait. LURVE the timer on my camera. Now I can have photos of me AND my children, together. Since I am always the one with the camera attached to my face, the timer has saved me.

The messy background adds to the realistic portrait I have lovingly shared with you.


This one I call "Messin' with Textures"

Many thanks to Amber and Chris for showing me the way. I will properly inebriate you both with wine when I come to visit in September. If that's OK. Don't want to make you do anything that you don't want to do.

Gonna Try Something New

Maile, one of the Shutter Sisters, posted this today.

I'm going to try it. A picture a day. Posted here. Daily. Every day.
Bear with me. I'm convincing myself to stick with something...

Let's see if photography will kick start my writing.

But it'll have to wait until tonight.

Jackson is asleep, and so begins the mad rush to shower, brush teeth, clean a bit of the house, make lunch...

Monday, April 14, 2008

Creative Vein

I think I have one. I am thankful for the one. However, it is limited in its capabilities. It can only hold one flow of creativity at a time.

Right now, it is channeling the photographer in me. Hence, no room for the writer in me.

Or maybe I'm overthinking it.

*nods of agreement from those who know me*

Lack of time seems to be a more accurate reason for the lack of posts here at HMFT.