Tardy

“Mr. Smithback is taking tardies really seriously,” Ivy tells me.

I try not to roll my eyes.  Mr. Smithback should try waking up the morning Clara monster.  Or finding Jane pants that are pants that she will wear, not the pants she chose the night before to wear because those ones, in the morning light, will clearly not do.  And he should do this all while listening to Ivy yell at everyone that we are going to be late to school.

Instead I tell Ivy what I’ve been telling her every morning that she complains about the timeliness of her sisters. “If you want to be on time you are going to have to be helpful in the morning.”

In my mind this would constitute things like not sitting in the seat that Jane always sits in knowing that it will cause her to freak out and refuse to get in the truck. That girl should learn to be flexible but we should not have flexibility lessons before 8am. Perhaps being extra nice to Clara. Clara needs to learn that when things don’t go her way it’s not, as she says, because “Everyone is being mean to mee!!!” That girl needs to learn how to handle bumps in her road but we should not attempt to teach this lesson before 8 am either. And not demanding ridiculous things of her mother. Her mother hates the morning and always has. Talking is barely acceptable, don’t make ridiculous demands that will get you yelled at by a cranky mother and cause you to stomp, pout and sit on your sisters’ jackets that they are trying to put on. I, said cranky mother,  probably need anti-morning cranky lessons but, let’s be honest here, that’s not happening at any time of day.

But, “Mr. Smithback is taking tardies really seriously.” So Ivy, bless her early morning heart, made a plan.

She and her sisters packed their bags and lunches the night before and asked me to put them in the truck. Ivy lined up shoes (with socks!) and jackets before she went to bed. She woke up earlier than the rest of us to dress herself make her mother a cup of hot tea (bless her early morning heart again), start breakfast for her sisters and wake them up.

A most welcome morning sight.

The last two mornings I’ve woken up, sat and drank my tea in relative peace while Ivy fed her sisters and then I drove them to school.

Mr. Smithback is taking tardies really seriously and I love him, and Ivy, for that.

Posted in response to my lovely, early rising daughter and The Daily Post prompt Tardy.

Advertisements

Full Manual

I haven’t used full manual mode much but I gave it a try while running the dogs this week. In the past I have struggled to catch the all the action of the running dogs and still have them in focus. But, this time, I think I did it!

It just turns out that most of the action I see is from behind.

Looking Through The Lens

(It wasn’t an outright question so much as a raised eyebrow of disbelief. But you see…) 

There is a shift that my brain makes when taking pictures, where it goes from what catches the attention of the naked eye to what can be captured through the camera lens.

Some times the shift is hard to make.

It takes more concentration than I have if I’m talking or multitasking so I don’t often take many pictures in a group of people. Instead I make the shift most often when I’m on my own.

When there is no one to tell me to hurry up (except the dogs and they never mind if I fall behind) and nothing to distract me. Then when my focus shifts I can find hundreds of tiny details and shapes that I want to try and capture.

I fiddle with my camera as I experiment with the best ways for it to help me catch the possibility I see in my mind.

I bless the digital camera gods as I snap and review, fiddle and adjust, and snap some more.

Once I’ve started looking through the lens everything seems photogenic if I can just catch the right light, angle, focus, background…

When it comes time to review pictures on the computer there are more misses in my captures than keepers.

And many pictures like these geometric shapes that caught my eye…

…still look just like the rabbit poop and dried corn leaves that they really are.

(And that, Honey, is why I took a picture of rabbit poop.)

 

The War That Saved My Life by Kimberly Brubaker Bradley

I know there are a lot of WWII books around but this is the one you really need to read:

 

Would I recommend it? Technically a middle grade book I’ve been recommending this to everyone from my 10 year old daughter to my 92 year old granny.  So, yes, you should read it too. (And you should really have the sequel The War I Finally Won on hand to follow it up with!)

Color Harmony

John is color blind. Not terribly so, just enough that sometimes he tries to argue that a green sweater is grey or can’t immediately appreciate the beauty of a group of cardinals at the feeder in the snow.

John is also my editor. He proof reads, tells me when I’m not making any sense, adds lots of commas and pretty much every apostrophe you’ve ever seen on this blog (Ooo! except that last one, that one was all me!). Occasionally he helps me pick pictures. Because when you like taking pictures (I do like taking pictures) and you have a new camera (I do have a new camera) it’s easy to take 500 million pictures of a leaf and then get lost in the choosing just one process because you are so excited to show off the focal range of your new camera (true story).

Tonight I was looking through my pile of pictures to choose the picture for this week’s dogwood photography challenge.  It’s about color harmony, pairing opposites on the color wheel, mixing warm and cool colors and I had too many pictures, I needed my editor… my color blind editor…

But there is more to a picture than color, and so between all the pictures of the dead leaf stuck in the evergreen tree, and the grapefruit tree with the red watering can and a pillowcase with blue beads (and yes of course there were multiple of each) he choose this as one of his favorites. 

And it does have warm and cool colors.

So I’m going with it.

And I haven’t over thought it even a little…

Nope.

Not me.

I’ve got a color blind editor, what’s to overthink?

 

Took The Words Right Outta My Mouth

I walked into the kids room and Jane stopped bouncing on the bed. She put on her saddest face, hung her head and in a voice of woe and despair she said:

“Mom. Here is the truth. I got distracted by playing with Clara because I’m in the habit of playing with Clara and then I forgot about my work and now I’m not going to have time to do the fun things.”

No worries, this is just Jane pretending to be sad after hanging her stocking on Christmas Eve.

I nodded sympathetically and gave her a hug, it was the truth.