A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week.
A simple, special, extraordinary moment.
Yesterday I tweeted a picture of my dirty, dirty, dog along with my wishes that the cold snap we are supposed to get hurry itself up and gets here already. I woke this morning to discover that last night’s rain had turned to snow and I hastened to let my, dirty, dirty, dog out of his kennel and sent him out into the snow with happy thoughts of frozen mud and the cleansing power of running through snow.
…and the cleansing power of running through snow was not all it was cracked up to be.
What do you think, is it too late to change his name to Pig Pen?
In diving when the judges award scores they are multiplied by the degree of difficulty (D.D.) and then added together for a total score.
Taking this picture was like doing a back dive with two somersaults in the pike position.
It’s just a picture of an icicle, you say.
HA! I say.
First off this was the only icicle within reach that had sunlight hitting it.
Unfortunately the only way to get my camera at the right angle to catch the sunlight was to position it between the icicle and the shed while holding my camera up above my head.
This would have been easier had Jane not been in the amautik thrashing around letting me know that she was done with pictures and ready for dinner.
Then, because the auto focus wouldn’t catch the icicle, I kept with my resolution from last week and on the spot figured out how the manual focus on my camera works.
(Let’s keep in mind that it’s a funny auto zoom in, up and down arrow to focus, zoom back out and take the picture sort of manual focus.)
Meanwhile my fingers are starting to resemble my subject matter and Jane is now yelling in addition to thrashing and in trying to figure out how to focus when I can’t actually see the camera screen I accidentally break the tip of the icicle off.
The tip of the only icicle within reach that is catching the last of the sunset.
So, when you look at my mid-icicle picture, just remember to multiply by a decent D.D. before you comment!
The past few days have been a flurry of packing, preparing and digging out from under the first real snowfall of the year. The blizzard only dropped a foot of snow but it manged to close Ivy’s school for two days and even John had a day and a half at home.We are all excited to have a white Christmas this year!
Hope your holidays are wonderful with or without snow!
Time spent getting ready (almost!) one year old before putting her out to play with oldest sister: 10 min.
Time spent dressing three year old before putting her out to play with other sisters: 3 min.
Time Mom spent dressing self: 1 min.
Time Mom spent outside before one year old started crying from cold hands: .2 seconds
Time spent cleaning up winter clothes and bathing freezing children: 30 min.
Baby wearing in winter: Priceless!
This is not my kind of winter.
My kind of winter involves enough cold, snowy weather to hide all the sins of fall until spring.
This way if you never got around to getting rid of those thistles in your pasture they are out of sight until the thaw.
Even thistles look alright covered in ice crystals.
Neither looks lovely in mud.
Today we’ve got mud.
This is not my kind of winter.