I've had a relentless cough for the past week now. The longer I have it, the more it wears on me, so I haven't had as much energy to be out and about taking photos. It just feels good to be home. So I thought today I'd post a few photos from around here. I do so enjoy the open (and relatively quiet) area I live in.

Old Question, Revisited

Honestly, I can't remember what prompted the conversation, but my husband and I were sitting on the couch last night when we began discussing the Mayan calendar. (I know. Random, right?) He informed me that there is a theory in existence that the end of the world is a little more than two short years from now, in the year 2012. This theory, he goes on to explain, is based on the fact that the ancient Mayan calendar ends that year; and since there are many who believe the civilization from long ago had a certain mathmatical genius, the same people would naturally conclude that the end of the calendar means the end of life as we know it.

I would not be one of those people. As a matter of fact, I generally avoid those types of theories all together. Each individual day has enough joys and trials of its own! Life is one day at a time. What's more, I believe in a God who not only knows the numbers of my days, but who holds time in the palm of His hand. He knows. He has a plan; and I will trust Him.

Nevertheless, the conversation with my husband did make me think. It surfaced the old question of , "If I knew the number of my days, knew I had only two years left to live, would I live differently? How?" Of course the answer was yes. I would change things. Live with more purpose. Finish things I had started. Make the most of the time with loved ones. Worry less about the small stuff. And yet we live as though we have infinite time...

I guess it's because life is just as much about the little, mundane details as it is the big picture issues. Still, I think it is good for us to ask this question every once in a while. To remember that life is shorter than we think and reprioritize. So I challenge you! Be sure you are accomplishing the things that matter. Make a difference. Check something off your 'bucket list'. Then don't forget to do a load of laundry and take out the trash :)

That is life happening.

Water Memo

MEMORANDUM

DATE: Nov 1, 2009

TO: myself

FROM: myself

SUBJECT: Fire Hydrants and Water

________________________________________________________________________

One must never forget the power and capability of a fire hydrant when standing in its proximity. While it is true that a hydrant (when not in use) is a rather silent and DRY fixture, one must be mindful of the purpose for which it was created: immediate access to large amounts of fast flowing water.

This is especially true when using my camera to photograph my husband accessing a fire hydrant. It does not matter if the photos are for training purposes. When my husband advises me that water will soon be flowing out of said hydrant, and that I (and my very nice camera) should therefore move clear of the flow, I should quickly give a generous berth to the approaching stream of water. I should NOT take a few small steps to the side, thinking only about photography and the possibility of an exciting, close angled shot. No. Because water flow is not 100% predictable. There is a distinct probability that standing too close when the hydrant is opened will result in a thorough dousing of myself AND my very nice camera. Finding myself wet and scrambling for a towel to dry my camera before damage is done is not a desired or recommended outcome.

Please take a moment to study the photo below. Because this is what one sees when being hit by the cold spray of water from a hydrant. File it away and learn from it.

Can someone hand me a towel, please???

Brrrrr...

I look out my window and see an unforgiving fall day in my little corner of the NW. I know. I know! I can hear you now...

"What, Laura? Unforgiving? I thought you just blogged about how you love fall?"

Ahem. Yes. I DID say I love fall...which is true. The exception for today, however, is that it is stormy and raining pretty heavily and I (like a crazy woman) accepted an afternoon position supervising the elementary school playground. Picture me, out in the cold/wet elements for an hour and a half today and you begin to understand the 'unforgiving' portion of my statement.

A person can do anything for an hour and a half, right? Especially when I have promised to reward myself with a caramel apple cider from Squeeze & Grind - the BEST I have found in all of Clark County. It's right here in my little town of Camas, so I will soothe my chills with a super yummy and steamy beverage and think cozy thoughts of wrapping up in a down throw later tonight; perhaps snuggling up with a good book or movie.

Off I go. Wish me luck...and warmth :)

Post Script: I was SO well prepared for this afternoon that it actually turned out to be quite nice. I layered up more than sufficiently, brought a giant umbrella, and even got to pass some of the time hanging out with my daughter and her friends. It was not an unforgiving fall day afterall!

Poppy & Sam

Once upon a time there were two goats named Poppy and Sam. Poppy was a plump and sassy goat with ears that stuck out to the side like wings on an airplane. Sam, her brother, was a large, simple-minded goat with ears that flopped down like a puppy dog.

If anyone were to approach the fence surrounding their field, Sam would plod up to the fence to see who had come to visit, then nervously back up a few paces. You see, being a simple-minded goat, Sam wasn't able to control his curiosity or his anxiety of the unknown. Sam was a kid at heart. Poppy, on the other hand, was all vim and vigour. Whenever she saw Sam approach people at the fence, she would trot over as fast as her stubby legs would carry her, and place herself front and center to assess the situation. More often than not, she would disapprove of the visitor and head-butt the fence in reproof. You see, being plump and sassy, Poppy liked to consider herself queen of the pasture.

One grey autumn morning Poppy decided that it was time to expand her empire. She longed to explore what lay beyond her half-acre parcel and simple barn. A small, weakened area in the meandering farm fence provided the opportunity she was looking for. She stepped back, lowered her head, and threw the full weight of her round body into it. Just as she hoped, the fence gave way and she was able wiggle her way to freedom. Sam, ever inquisitive, craned his neck over the fence and watched from the safety of the pasture to see what his sister was up to now. Poppy was nose to the ground, smelling her new surroundings. She wandered this way and that, congratulating herself for her conquest, and nibbling the grass as she went. She was not only queen, but fearless explorer, too.

Poppy had not been out long when her owner, a sweet, young girl with straight hair and milk chocolate eyes, discovered her escape. The girl ran out, still barefoot and in her pajamas, into the early morning light to lure Poppy back into her rightful field. The girl was the one person Poppy tolerated...liked even. And when she scooped out a savory cup-full of golden grain, Poppy, the plump and sassy goat, was unable to resist following the girl back through the gate and into her half-acre parcel.

Only the queen would not be contained for long. With the grain devoured and the girl gone back to the house, Poppy trotted to the opening in the fence, and once again forced her way to freedom. Sam stood nervously by the opening, bleating to his sister. He finally decided to be brave and follow. There was only time for a few mouthfuls of sweet, autumn grass before the girl, still barefoot and pajama clad, emerged from the house; this time with her mother in tow. The girl scooped a second cup-full of grain and gently persuaded Poppy and Sam to return to their field. Her mother, though not skilled with hand tools, was determined that plump and sassy Poppy would remain contained this time.

So she went to work. She measured and clipped a new section of farm fence. Then, using a multitude of zip-ties, the mother attached the new portion of fence over the warped and broken one. Poppy looked on with disdane, and even tried to head-butt the mothers hand as she worked. The mother, however, was not to be hindered. A few more zip-ties and the patch was complete. Queen Poppy was once again restriced to her original half-acre kingdom. She begrudgingly conceeded the battle. Turning her plump body away from the fence, Poppy trotted off into the field with all the sassiness she could muster...Sam following obediently behind. Perhaps the queen would explore another day.

The End

I Heart Fall

My favorite of all seasons is here! Don't get me wrong...each of the seasons have their own charm and enjoyable elements. Ah, but fall. Fall is grand. I cannot help but be partial to it. To borrow a line from Elizabeth Barrett Browning, "How do I love thee? Let me count the ways..."

*Amazing colors. The colors of fall are unlike anything else. Fiery red, golden yellow, glowing orange, warm brown...mixed in with the fading shades of green. Breathtaking!

*Brisk air that adds a blush to one's cheek and beckons us outdoors.

*Foggy mornings. Looking out my window to see everything enveloped in a lovely, soft gray. The landscape is changed...more mysterious and inviting.

*Snuggly sweaters, a good pair of jeans, and warm socks. That pretty much defines the perfect outfit for me!

*Steamy, warm beverages. Coffee, cider, chai tea, hot cocoa. The heat that radiates through the mug to warm hands. So comforting. Speaking of comforting...

*Homemade chili and soup. Oh - with fresh from the oven bread. Seriously. Does it get better than that? It makes the house smell delicious and it is so satisfying to be snug and warm in your house eating a great bowl of soup when it is stormy outside.

*Apple season. Apples are my favorite fruit. I am spoiled living in Washington state for this reason. The Honey Crisp and Fuji are amazing! Plus, who doesn't love a good apple pie or crisp?

I could go on with my list, but those rank at the top. So, I am going to snuggle in my sweater, grab my mug of coffee, and go watch the wind whip through the trees. If the rain holds off, maybe I'll throw on a scarf and take a walk; somewhere where the leaves have began to fall and I can listen to the music of them crunching under my feet.

I love fall.

Face Lift

I sat down at my computer, thinking about writing a new post. Instead, however, I got side-tracked looking at blog backgrounds. There are so many choices...and I just looked through one source. This was one of the first to really catch my eye. You know what they say. Trust your first instinct. I am enjoying this new look and color scheme. Change is good. It's like redecorating, only I don't have to mess with hours of hard labor. A few simple clicks, cut and paste, and voila. My blog is rejuvinated!

A Feature I Love

We've been in our new house long enough to learn how it functions. The noises it makes and the little idiosyncrasies involved in living here. There are only a few things I would do differently - one of which is better sound proofing between Emma's room and our bathroom (she says our shower sometimes wakes her up in the morning). But overall...we are pretty happy with the way the house turned out.

There is one feature that I am particularly happy with. I might even go so far as to say I love it. Curious? No, it's not the dishwasher, although that is quite a luxury. No, it's not the space heater in the bathroom, even though I sit contentedly in front of it almost every evening as I brush my teeth. The feature I'm speaking of? The toe-kick vent in my kitchen! It is glorious. During the hot summer months, when the last thing a person wants to do is work in the sink with warm water, it blows out cool and refreshing over your feet. Better yet, in the fall and winter, when there is a chill in the air, it turns that area of wood floor toasty warm. You stand in front of it and the heat envelopes your poor cold toes and you feel like you could camp out right there - standing in front of the sink - for hours!

When we put it in, it was with a mindset of convenience and space saving. But now I know better. All I can say is, it's sumptuous, and every house should have one! (at least)

Three Trips In A Week

Three times this week I have driven up the Columbia River Gorge. It started with a spur of the moment trip last Friday...just my husband and our youngest who was home recovering from a cold. Paul walked into the room and announced, "I thought we'd drive up the gorge today; maybe take some pictures." It was a glorious day, with a stunning blue sky and temperatures perfect for jeans and a t-shirt. Can you ask for anything more? Maybe a cup of coffee for the drive, you say? Yeah. He provided that, too. He IS pretty great. Try not to be too jealous :)


The next trip we made as a family on Sunday. The forecast showed rain coming in for the majority of the week, so we thought we should go and maybe get a couple photos of all of us while the weather was still lovely. It wasn't quite the perfection of the previous trip (there was some sibling rivalry in the car and multiple rest area stops) but it is good to be out all together, and you can't help but appreciate God's beautiful creation in that little piece of the world.
My final trip was made today, in a school bus. Yep. Just so happens that Emily's class had a pre-scheduled field trip to Bonneville Dam and Fish Hatchery...in the heart of the Columbia River Gorge. It was a forty-five minute ride on the Washington side to the visitor center where we watched the salmon swim up the fish ladders, learned about hydro-electricity, and the history of the surrounding area. Then we boarded the bus, crossed over the Bridge of the Gods to the Oregon side, explored the fish hatchery, and enjoyed a one-hour ride home.

Three times is a lot in one week, but I can't take the sights for granted. The gorge is glorious in sun, rain, or fog; through a camera lens, a car window, and even the back seat of a school bus! I couldn't help but notice that autumn is creeping in, and already the leaves are beginning to change. It happens so quickly...there were no signs of it a few days ago. And crazy woman that I am, I began to plan in my mind when I should come again in order to enjoy autumn in all its splendor.

The Children of A Photo Addict

The saying goes that the cobblers child goes barefoot. The bedroom of an electricians child has no working light. And the painter...well, you get the idea.

Ah, but the photographers kids. They have a whole different struggle. You see, it is not the trouble of going without that they face. No. The pendulum swings to the complete opposite. You see the photographers child can't get away from the lens!

Tell me...do you think these children belong to a photography addict?

The pictures say it all :)

Rollercoaster

Isn't life a rollercoaster ride?

Our bodies form and grow, safely nestled inside our mothers womb. Like waiting in line for our turn to hand over our ticket and climb in the seat of the rollercoaster, infant bodies develop until the appointed time to be ushered into this life and join the ride.

Our childhood and youth is all about the ascent. Progressing ever forward up the initial hill...anticipating...achieving...each click of the track bringing us higher and higher.

One more click and we are at the crest of the hill...adolescence. Ah, the teen years. On the cusp of adulthood we look back to where we began, and at the peak we feel we have arrived. Only the ride has just begun.

After all, in our adult years, the rollercoaster boasts extreme highs as well as lows. Twists and turns. Moments that thrill and take our breath away; moments that feel terrifying, as if we are falling. Weddings, birthdays, graduation, successes. Medical diagnosis, cancer, struggles, death. A rapid succession of peaks and valleys, and no way to know if your ride will be short or long.

So enjoy the ride. Soak in the view from the top and cherish the moments you soar high. And when you are pulled down, hold on in faith and embrace those who ride next to you. Trust in the One who controls the ride. Believe He will never let you go too far or too fast, and that He will let you off when the time is right.

In Remembrance

This weekend, Paul and four other firemen from his department went up to Seattle to participate in a 9/11 tribute in honor of the fallen FDNY firefighters. I was lucky enough to tag along and watch the event.


There were over 200 firefighters in attendance from various departments in Washington and Oregon.

Each man or woman was given a photo of a fallen firefighter to wear around their neck as they climbed the stairs at Two Union Square; up 55 floors.

Once they reached the top, if they had the desire or stamina, they were asked to return via elevator to the ground level to carry a new photo up the 55 floors. They would climb until each of the 343 were honored individually.

You knew each man and woman was proud to be there...honored to carry an image of one who gave their all.

Their presence a silent affirmation that they would not forget.

Just Photos, Just Because

I can't seem to leave my camera alone today. There are days like that for me...it's like an itchy trigger finger :) Just some random shots to share...

I take photos of this barn every year, at least twice - once in the fog and once in a snowfall. It's right outside my door and I can't seem to resist!

Earrings

Our eldest daughter, Emily, got her ears pierced for her 10th birthday. It was a much anticipated event as she began asking to get her ears pierced somewhere around the age of 6 or 7. I remembered getting my ears pierced...at age 5...and the drama that ensued. My poor mom! There were a lot of tears each time we had to clean my ears or change the earrings. I try to be one of those people that learn from my experiences, and therefore I set the magical age of 10 for my own daughter's first experience with earrings. I am extremely pleased with my decision! She has been very self sufficient and able to handle it all on her own, no whining involved.

Having and wearing earrings is a pretty trivial act in this day and age. You see it everywhere...on women and men alike. But I have a clever God, who likes to teach us not only with big life lessons, but also in the trivial, everyday matters. What have both Emily and I learned from earrings? Allow me to share...

Sometimes it is in our best interest to wait. Waiting is hard and I will be the first to admit that I am not very good at it. I like to have things worked out now, if not yesterday! However, there are times it is in our best interest to wait. Waiting could make the situation easier, more meaningful, enjoyable, or all of the above. That extra time will allow us to be more prepared to handle what comes our way. Emily really wanted earrings, but by waiting, she was able to have a very positive experience. Learning to wait is a valuable life skill.

The other lesson I am reminded of is not to cut corners. If you are going to do something, then take the time and put in the effort to do it right. Emily is dying to wear dangly earrings, but our care information sheet recommended only wearing post style earrings for the first six months. "Mom, my friend wore danglies right away, and her ears are fine!" Emily pleaded. My response? No. Wait. Not only because of the reason listed above, but because I want to teach her that even though it is tempting to take short-cuts, even when everyone else is doing the minimum to get by, there is no substitute for a job fully done and done well.

All that from earrings. Who would've guessed? I wonder what will be next. Hmm...what could the TV remote be saying to me???

Scene From A Coffee Shop

I was meeting two of my best girlfriends for a rare, but treasured, morning at the local coffee house. We had premium seating, so we decided to order in shifts so as not to loose our comfy chairs and couch.

When it was my turn, I considered varying my order, but when it came down to it, I couldn't resist my usual: non-fat, extra hot white mocha. I returned to the girls to chat while I waited for my drink to be made. A few short moments later, I heard the barista call out a drink, but didn't catch what it was. Thinking the timing was about right for it to be mine, I headed up to the counter. There was a kind looking older gentleman waiting there for his drink. I asked him if he heard what the drink sitting on the counter was. "Something with a lot of words," he replied with a smile.

I laughed and said, "Well, it's probably mine, then." I hesitated for a moment because I wanted to verify with the barista before taking the drink. I turned back and commented, "I just want to make sure it's mine...I don't want to take it if it belongs to someone else."

"It was something with 'white' in it," he offers, helpfully.

"Yep. That must be mine. Thanks." I say with a smile and return to my seat, beverage in hand, to enjoy the morning with my girls.

Photo Bombing 101

Good evening readers. Today we are going to explore the concept of photo bombing. "What is photo bombing?" you may ask. Allow me to explain: Photo bombing is when unsuspecting individuals are posing for a picture and someone jumps into the shot at the last minute, often in the background, and quite unexpectedly. Photo bombing can be quite funny when one follows the appropriate guidelines for the proper situation and timing. Allow me to illustrate with a factual event:

Photo bombing was one of the topics discussed on our road trip north for the Mariner's game on Saturday. (Suzanne, Tim and Kari had all piled into the car with us to make the trip.) Upon arrival in Seattle, Tim made a couple of noteworthy photo bombing efforts within our own group...once at a restaurant and once just outside of Safeco. We laughed and agreed that a sporting event was the perfect setting for a photo bomb as it is such a casual atmosphere. We were seated for the game shortly after and the topic was all but forgotten in light of the action, as well as the surprising absence of photographs being taken around us.

About half way through the game, the guys and Suzanne got up to get some soft pretzels, leaving Kari and I to chat and watch the game together. Low and behold, in their absence, the group of ladies in front of us pulled out their camera for a self portrait! Just as the woman in the middle stretched out her arm, I nudged Kari and whispered, "photo bomb!" Well...Kari whipped into action without a moments hesitation...slumping down to get into the frame and giving an outstandingly flashy grin! I committed to the bombing, but with less flair than my dear friend. We chuckled like a couple of conspirators, and then almost fell out of our seats laughing when we realized our faux pas:

It is a digital era.

Think about it for a moment and let that sink in. (tick-tock, tick-tock)

Uh-huh. The ladies took the photo, and then immediately checked the camera to see how the photo turned out. We were laughing hysterically at this point, just waiting to be caught. Somehow, they didn't seem to notice; at least no one commented on it anyway. It is about this time that the rest of our group came back to rejoin us. Kari scoot down to give the guys back their seats, and before we were able to share what just happened, the camera came out in front of us another time! Without discussion or premeditation, Paul and Suzanne jumped into photo bombing action with great enthusiasm! Again, digital technology strikes, only this time the photo bombing was much too successful to be missed. The ladies point them out, turn around, and good naturedly say, "Hey!" as our group erupted into hilarity, sprinkled with a little embarrassment. Then they scanned to the previous photo and Kari and I were caught. Thankfully they were very easy-going about the whole thing and seemed to find the humor in the situation. We trifled with the idea of giving them our email address and asking them to send us the photos, but none of us quite had the courage for that!

So what can we learn from this, dear readers? Photo bombing is fun in your own group any time. Photo bombing CAN be fun amongst strangers in a casual setting, but only when it does NOT combine assigned seating with digital technology!

This concludes Photo Bombing 101. I hope you have found it enlightening :)

Three Responses To An Undesirable Dinner

I wasn't feeling particularly hungry tonight, so I pulled from my freezer a one skillet, heat and serve type meal for the kids. I don't usually make this type of thing as I prefer to cook from scratch, but occasionally, when Paul is on shift, I take the easy road with soup, noodles, or (as in this case) a skillet meal. It was an Asian type dish with veggies and orange chicken. It sounded appealing to me at the store.


My kids disagree...


Jenna: she sits quietly, eating little bites, but spending more time drinking her milk than consuming any solid food. She conveniently drops her cup. She moves the food around her plate. Still, very little eating happening.


Ben: from the first moment he laid eyes on the food he exclaims, "You know I don't like that!" Yes, he is my vocal one. I put his plate on the table and tell him he needs to eat anyway. "I can't eat this. I'm going to be sick," he tries next. I give him a matronly speech about how it is a good life lesson to learn how to eat things you don't like, because it is bound to happen to him when he is grown up. It goes in one ear and out the other as he tries excuse after excuse, "I'm not hungry. I'm tired. These vegetables are hurting my shoulder." He even tries riling up Jenna (who is still drinking her milk and playing with her food). He turns his plate and fork into a percussion section. ANYTHING but eat his food. Tears ensue...


Emily: she hears Ben's initial proclamation and sagely replies, "You've never had this before. You don't know...you should try it." She is eating, but not saying much. I notice she is drinking lots of water. I think she refills her cup four or five times. She tells me about another type of food she doesn't like, and her method for eating it. I finally ask her if she likes it and she shrugs her shoulders noncommittally. She finishes relatively quickly. A little while later she comes to me as I am cleaning up in the kitchen and says, "Thanks for dinner, Mom." I reply that she is welcome, somewhat surprised that she has thanked me at all. "There are some kids in the world that don't have dinner at all!" she says and goes on her way. (I am inwardly trying not to laugh at this last comment as she has just politely classified this meal as one step above starvation!!!)


Jenna: still playing without eating.


Ben: mysteriously falls off his chair, crying like a victim. Gagging. Drinking water. Belching.


Jenna: laughing at her brother, babbling to herself.


An hour and fifteen minutes later, everyone is done. The food is dutifully eaten. I held my resolve to the end. I sigh with relief and mentally ban all orange chicken skillet meals from now on!