this is a test, this is only a test

I am trying to find the best way for clients to view proofs of a shoot. I have thought about getting a web site, but let's face it. I'm cheap.

so I am testing to see if just posting them to a blog would do.

I'm thinking I can just get another blog and use it for proofing . What do you think?

pumpkin is a vegetable

What did you have for breakfast on Thursday?

Thursday morning-- the ENTIRE morning, was spent making the Thanksgiving meal. Since I had made the pumpkin pie the day before, and everything else in the kitchen (and fridge) was being used for the dinner, pie was the obvious choice for breakfast. Honestly, considering the ingredients, it is healthier than the average American breakfast of processed corn flakes.

My turkey totally fell apart when I lifted it from the pan. Totally. Yes, I overcooked it. I mentioned before that I was going to try brining for the first time. What I overlooked in the instructions is that this cuts about half an hour off the cooking time. That half hour did it. It still tasted good, and we're looking forward to turky pot pie with the frozen left overs.

I have images from three photo shoots to finish up this week- two family sittings and the NILMDTS shoot. I haven't begun my lesson plans for the high school writing class yet, but two days before class is par for the course in my book.

Needless to say, my profound feelings and meaningless wit will have to wait; I have work to do today.

blessed Thanksgiving, and thanks be for capitalism

I am thankful to live in a country in which the experiment has already been tried.
I am thankful that there are still men who have learned from the past, and G-d willing, will prevent us from trying it again.

"The experience that was had in this common course and condition, tried sundry years and that amongst godly and sober men, may well evince the vanity of that conceit of Plato's and other ancients applauded by some of later times; and that the taking away of property and bringing in community into a commonwealth would make them happy and flourishing; as if they were wiser than God.
For this community (so far as it was) was found to breed much confusion and discontent and retard much employment that would have been to their benefit and comfort. For the young men, that were most able and fit for labor and service, did repine that they should spend their time and strength to work for other men's wives and children without any recompense. The strong, or man of parts, had no more in division of victuals and clothes than he that was weak and not able to do a quarter the other could; this was thought injustice. The aged and graver men to be ranked and equalized in labors and victuals, clothes etc., with the meaner and younger sort, thought it some indignity and disrespect unto them. And for men's wives to be commanded to do service for other men, as dressing their meat, washing their clothes, etc., they deemed it a kind of slavery, neither could many husbands well brook it.
Upon the point all being to have alike, and all to do alike, they thought themselves in the like condition, and one as good as another; and so, if it did not cut off those relations that God hath set amongst men, yet it did at least much diminish and take off the mutual respects that should be preserved amongst them. And would have been worse if they had been men of another condition. Let none object this is men's corruption, and nothing to the course itself.
I answer, seeing all men have this corruption in them, God in His wisdom saw another course fitter for them."
_William Bradford, The History of Plymouth Plantation, cir. 1650.

it's what we do

This morning started like most, with my coffee and me at the computer checking e-mail. I thought it was going to be a slow paced day of catching up on house work, and maybe making a desert or two for Thursday.
I read a group e-mail from a co-NILMDTS photographer who received a message from the hospital about a baby being taken off the ventilator today. The photographer on call was not available; she opted to fly out to be with her husband who was given a few days leave before deployment. I think she made the right choice.
I replied to the message and volunteered to take the shoot.
Tom drove me into the city and dropped me off at the hospital, as the shoot was planned for about the same time as we planned for him to drive to the university to get M.

I walked to NICU, and was met by the nurse who lead me to the tiny room where the mama was sitting with Baby C. I gave the paper work to her to fill out, and then read the address; this family lives around the corner from us. I pass their house every time I leave my neighborhood. I have never met any of them.
Somehow though, it gave her a small comfort that I am a neighbor.

I put my gear together and snapped a few images. The nurse suggested the mama bathe the little guy, and she did, allowing me to collect a few more images.
She then decided he needed to rest while they waited for grandparents to arrive, so I left them and waited.
And I waited.
I wept a little.
I enjoyed talking with the nurse about birth, babies, work, and people. I was surprised to hear that this NICU nurse was fully supportive of home births. We shared a few stories, and reminded each other that "usually, things work out fine".

More than an hour had passed since I arrived at the hospital when the grandparents walked into the room.
The decision was made that when the tubes were all removed, the family would take the baby to the hospital garden so that he would not die in a hospital room, but in the open air, with the sounds of birds and a nearby fountain.
This also gave me the opportunity to capture several hauntingly beautiful images while maintaining physical distance, and give the family privacy as they said 'goodbye'.
As I was leaving the garden, the mama hugged me hard and thanked me. I thanked her for allowing me to share in her son's life.
As I was packing up, the minister hugged me and thanked me. The nurse put her arm around me and thanked me. The social worker thanked me.
I am not there as only a photographer. I am a woman, a mother, a neighbor. Don't thank me; it's what we do.

I left the hospital and called Tom. Knowing he had a few miles to drive, I started walking away from the medical center to meet him on the road.
I noticed the hospitals were already being decorated for Christmas. I sang Christmas songs to myself-
and I wept some more.

family and thanks

There is a 20 pound free range organic Amish turkey in my kitchen. I will put in a brine on Wednesday; this will be the first time I have brined anything.

I have been asked if we are going to spend Thanksgiving "with family". What would you call my spouse and six children?

Tom's sister invited us to spend Thanksgiving dinner at her house. Also present will be her husband, daughter and son-in-law, three grandchildren, Tom's brother and sister-in-law, son, girlfriend, two children, Tom's other two sisters, brothers-in-law, and three grown children.
Sound like fun? Maybe, but it also sounds like trying to get my little children settled for dinner in a non child proof house, sitting at a kiddie table in the kitchen, myself included to insure that my two year old does not wonder from the table in the non child proof house, while my husband sits with the men, and my teenage daughters sit in another room.
OR--
I can sit at the same table with my husband, and all my children in our own dining room.

This is not about love; I love my husband's family. This is about me attempting to build on my own 'little' family, creating tradition, and being able to relax if my children wander after dinner, or don't want to eat their vegetables. This is about letting them go for a run after dinner, without being concerned about the pool.
This is nothing personal. This is me maintaining what little sanity I have left from all my pregnancies.

We will, however, be going to the sister-in-law's house for desert in the late afternoon.
So, no matter who asks, I can say "yes, we will be with family" for Thanksgiving.

ends and means

Yesterday, I took my two oldest daughters to pray in front of Planned Parenthood with their friends. They stand in peaceful protest, praying a full rosary, then walk to our parish church for Mass.
Before I left, I noticed a side walk counselor with whom I familiar, and commented to a mother of one of the praying youth that I have noticed this 'counselor' getting a little "intimidating" with young women entering the clinic. A fellow over heard me, and told me that this particular 'counselor' has "stopped many girls from going in there". I nodded, and agreed but reiterated that he can still get a little pushy.
His reply was, "whatever it takes".

I cannot agree with this.
Some may gasp in horror or surprise, but I do not have the "whatever it takes" mentality. If you are a Christian, then you believe that each baby that dies is in G-d's hands. If you are not a Christian, then the fate of the baby is possibly irrelevant. It is not enough to save a baby on one day, if his mother's heart is not changed.
What concerns me more, as I watch the girls walk in and out of the clinic, is their fate. What concerns me is each woman is affected on a level deeper than the average person ever reaches, and we live in a society that leads her toward that fate, and then pushes her off the edge alone, telling her that it is "for the best" and her "right" to go on as though nothing ever happened.
It concerns me that the same people, week after week, volunteer their weekends to 'escort' young people in and out the clinic, knowing that many of them are there to kill a child. It concerns me that people who study to be doctors and nurses, taking an oath to "first do no harm", make a living de-humanizing women and victimizing them to make a buck.

Fighting abortion is not [just] a matter of saving each individual baby, it's about saving a society from itself-- from a group mentality that killing [unborn] people is acceptable.

the south shall rise again

We took a field trip today to a Civil War reenactment at a plantation. This is a once a year event, and we FINALLY remembered it this year. The event lasts from Friday through Sunday, with Friday offering discounts on admission for schools and home school families.

When we approached the parking area, a lady stopped us on the drive to collect our money. The admission was five dollars for the parent, and for each 'student'.

She asked, "how many school age children do you have?"

I asked, "What do you consider school age? I have a five year old."

Here's where it gets 'funny':

She asked, "Do you educate him?"

I paused and stared at her. I expected her to ellaborate, or retract her statement, or at least realize that her question was a bit odd to ask a parent. Did she think that perhaps I otherwise let him run around like a barbarian, ignoring him until he is old enough to read?

She stared back, awaiting a response.

"Do I educate him? We teach all of our children. Just tell me at what age you begin charging admission."

"If he is educated, you have to pay for a five year old. Do you educate him?"

Again, I stared. I chuckled.

"Hhmm.... I don't sit him down at a desk and give him work to do."

"Okay then, no, " she responded.

Alrighty then. I'm glad she did not inquire about his vocabulary. She might have charged me double for him.

My eight year old promises that if we get a wash board and tub, she will do the laundry.

Why do weapons make boys so darn happy?

H tells me that this man offered her the best conversation she has had in a long time.


Regardless of the VERY long walk from the parking to the plantation, and the fact that the parking lot was a cow field.... with all that comes with that, (as was half the area through which we had to walk to see each event and vendor) we had a fantastic time.

We were pleased with the compliments we received from the 'characters' on the childrens' behavior, being told a few times that it is obvious they are home schooled.

A teacher approached me after having a conversation with D about the Civil War. "I am impressed with how much he knows about it and can talk about the details. You've been teaching him this?"

I blushed. I had to admit to this man that we haven't even begun to study American History; everything he knows he has learned by reading on his own. I did not admit that the child has to read it on his own because I am doing laundry, and changing diapers, and running after the little ones, and washing crayon and chalk off walls...... and writing a blog...

Nothing that happened today is organized enough in my head to write. So I'll just share this.

Have a thankful and peaceful Veterens' day.

I'm sorry. Yes, I know the flag is backwards. She's two, okay??

I am so not surprised

but I am disgusted.
away on vacation?? Where in the hell was "Mr. President" yesterday? I can tell you where he was NOT. He was not at the site of the Berlin Wall with 27 Euro union leaders and Russian President Dmitry Medvedev. Oh, he sent Hilary.

Let's be honest though. Do we expect Obama to actually celebrate the fall of Communism?
As my thirteen year old said, "You'd think he'd at least try to hide his agenda."

I never enjoyed American History in high school. I won't lie. My history teacher had a slow southern drawl and used the words "asinine" daily.
I do have opinions though. One of them was that President Ronald Reagan was the greatest president this country had. He was definately the greatest president in my life time.
I invite you to remember the attention and dedication of this great American.


Now it's Tuesday, and the great b.o. of the USA is heading to Ft. Hood. He can't miss that photo op waiting for him at the memorial service. I'm sure that the families of the dead and the wounded are looking forward to shaking the hand of the man who gave a "shout out to Dr. Joe Medicine Crow". Let's be fair, he did, after three minutes of thanking people and honoring the Native medicine man, FINALLY get around to mentioning the deaths of his thirteen military personal employees of the United States government.

Let me paraphrase: "Hi there everybody. I want to thank everyone for coming out and setting up pretty tables. YO! Dr. Joe! Great job!
Oh, yeah, I just remembered... a few men were killed last week. Sorry 'bout that.
Hey! Time to get to camp David!"

moving day

My oldest moved out this afternoon. A friend at church has been concerned about her making the commute daily to the university, and expressed her concern in front of, apparently, the right person last Sunday. This woman, a widow, who happens to live four miles from the university, with a bus stop in front of her townhouse, offered her spare room to my daughter. For free.
This new house mate has already bought my daughter a cell phone.


That's M's new room on the third floor:

There are 38 steps to her room. This is the veiw from the landing of her bedroom:

The view from her window is the city sky line:

She has more than twice the space than she had at home, and for the first time in her life, will not have to share a bathroom. I hope she learns to pick her clothes up off the floor now that is living on someone else's floor.

She packed only enough to get her through the first week. Along with her toothbrush, pillow, and clothes, she took a framed photograph of her grandmother, my mother. "Grammy" was her best friend.

This daughter is an amazing person. She is smart, she is strong and she is beautiful. She dances like a Columbian and sings like an angel.

I sometimes joke that we grew up together, though it's truly not a joke. At times, she is more mature than I, and often picks up my slack. At other times, she is a weeping woman, engulfed by stress and responsibility, and depends on me to listen, and to make her laugh. I can usually make her laugh.

It is time for her to stretch a bit. Grow a bit, and even fall a little bit. I'm going to miss her. Even though she has already emailed me and asked if she can get a ride home from the park and ride on Friday.

sew vintage

Today: Dolls are getting new clothes!

lighten up

Went out for dinner last night. The restaurant was chosen for us via a HUGE coupon through the school district.

No complaints.

Came home to this:

Still, no complaints.

raw

A few Sundays ago, the gospel in Mass was that in which the Lord asks a man,
"What do you want?"
His reply, "I want to see".
So simply put. Such a simple request. Jesus healed the man of his blindness.

What do I want? I want to see.
What do I do now? What is the next step? I am living so one day at a time, that I can't even think about tomorrow. I can't even plan a menu for next week, because I am trying to get through today. (and no, I don't know yet what I am making for dinner tonight.)
At the moment, the children are working on their assignments, the little ones are playing quietly, and I'm soul searching. I am not praying, as I don't do much of that lately.

I think I asked the Lord many times in my youth, "I want to see". I was always looking into the future with positive sight and invincible faith. Because G-d was with me, I could "do all things".
I could be the rock that would help a man eight years my senior overcome alcohol and drug addiction and an illicit lifestyle. I could be the rock who would stand by him as he rebuilt his family relations, rehabilitated his body, and attempted to save his military career.
I would be the great encourager, the great planner and unfailing buoy for a man who was trying to begin a new life after years of substance abuse and memories of a controlling father.
I would be the great fixer, because I had so much love, not knowing that some things can never be fixed; they remain with a person always.

I would be all these things and I was only 20 years old.

I believed I could do these things because I was the smart one, the outgoing one, the faithful one, the 'good' one. I had faith and I had supportive parents.
Now, after 22 years of being 'the rock', I am none of those other things, and I am tired. And I am raw.

Lord, I want to see.

life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness, and a cell phone

Oh yeah, it's not enough to get food, rent, and healthcare. The government now thinks that having phone service is a RIGHT.

Some would argue that people who get free healthcare now, walk around with ipods and cell phones, have cable, etc... that if you can afford these "extra things", then you ought to be taking care of basic needs first, and do without the "extra things".

Well, the government is taking care of that argument. Starting with the cell phone, the federal government will take THAT financial pressure off too. Let's jump in line.. perhaps cable is next!

not funny

These are the squash plants I put in the ground over a month ago. Have they grown at all? I know I planted four plants and there are two here.

THIS is a 'volunteer'. It's no where near the garden. It is, however, about a foot from the compost pile.

It's easily over 10 feet long, and just look at the size of the leaves.

It's producing something. But since I didn't plant the darn thing, I don't know what it is. There are blooms and small fruits all over the vine.

This is NOT funny!

GRITS

That's me. I'm a Girl Reared In The South.
I don't think you can get anymore 'south' than lower Alabama, or 'L.A.', as my daddy called it.
Alabama, Mississippi, and Georgia are different than any of the other states. Some would argue that South Carolina fit in there too, but I wouldn't know. I never spent any time there.

In the South, children are taught to say, "Yes Ma'am", and "No Ma'am". People continue to say "Yes, Ma'am" and "Yes, Sir" for the rest of thier lives. If you are older than a person, expect a "Yes Ma'am". It doesn't matter how old you are or how old the other person is, or if you married or not. If you are two weeks older, you should expect a "Yes, Ma'am."

In the south, Football is a religion. Fridays are holy days for high school football. It doesn't matter if you don't truly like football; you go to the game to hear and see the band. If you make a date on a Friday night, expect to go to a football game. It's still a date, so you dress up and put on your lipstick just the same.
Your date will have a gun rack in his truck. And yes, there will be a gun or two there. Even the gentlemen are packed and loaded.
Your date will say, "Yes Sir," when your father tells him to not touch you.
When you get to the game, you will want to eat boiled peanuts. Trust me, you will like them. You will like them so much you will not be able to stop eating them.
In fact, boiled peanuts are great date food. You have just enought time between bites to get one peeled so you can say a few words, then put one in your mouth before you say something truly stupid, and give the other person a chance to speak. You'll want to chase it down with some RC "Coke". In the south, all sodas are "coke".
Crossview at Down a Red Dirt Lane understands this southern romance. She's giving away a romantic southern dinner for two. Okay, so it's beyond southern and into redneck, but that's okay too.

destroying capitalism

That is the goal of many people today. It's truly starting to bother me.

A woman called Sean Hannity today while I was listening. She accused Hannity of not wanting children to have health care because he is against the proposed health care bill. (which of course, implies that this government run system that is being proposed is the only way children will get health care)
So, those of us who are against Socialism are "right wing extremest rednecks", and those of us against Socialised medicine "don't want children to have health care".
She went on to say that capitalists are "greedy". Let me understand this: working and not wanting someone, like the government, to steal what you earn is 'greedy'.
I think wanting what someone else has is greedy. But that's just me.

This woman who lives in a bubble then complained that the grand ol' USof A is "the only industrialized country that does not provide heath care for it's citizens."
So? We are also the only country with our Declaration of Independence and our Constitution. The USA takes pride in being different from every other country in the world in many ways, and some of my ancestors fought in the Revolutionary war to give us that. We are set up as a Republic with very clear guidelines about the responsibilities and LIMITS of the Federal government. Health care is not one of those responsibilities. Perhaps this woman would prefer Cuba?

Maybe I should have prefaced everything by laying my cards on the table. Maybe I shouldn't, but I want to make it clear that I am not a 'greedy capitalist'.
My husband works for the state as a public school teacher. After 15 years with the district and a Master's degree, to teach 950 students each year, he gets paid well under $59,000 annual gross.
I stay home, and we have six children at home. My children do not have health insurance. Do I need to repeat that? My children do not have health insurance. Yes, of course, I want my children to have health care when they need it, but I DO NOT WANT THE GOVERNMENT TO GIVE IT TO THEM.
To get health insurance through the school district we would pay a monthly premium of over $700. That money would be GONE, and we wouldn't eat.
According to the new plan, my husband will be FORCED to buy this insurance, or pay a penalty.
We'd then be on food stamps. Great, now we depend on the government to feed us.
Oh wait, that sounds familiar..... isn't that how Communism typically starts? The government takes over big businesses like banks and car companies, then starves it's people so it can feed them and then the people are dependant on the government.

Keep in mind, these are just the rantings of a stay at home mom. I'm not citing any sources, or referring you to statistics. I'm sure that someone who has slept through the night in the past thirteen years would be much more eloquent about these matters, and much more convincing.

I'm just a woman with an attitude. Just like that woman who called Sean Hannity today.

can't pick your family, but you can pick your in-laws

Last weekend was my husband's family reunion. It's an annual affair, and typically takes place somewhere near the original homestead of his great-grandparents. Or maybe it's his grandparents?

He's pure Czech. That was one of the first things Tom told me about himself. I liked the idea of being married to a Bohemian.

The problem is, I can only barely tolerate polkas.

Scratch that... I cannot tolerate polkas.

I learned this weekend that Tom's ancestors came from Moravia

Those are some of this cousins in the photo, in traditional Czech/Moravian costumes. The guy in the middle is showing off that he is single by wearing that long feather in his hat.
It was shameless advertising for the Moravian, Czech, Bohemian men. Any takers?

The family doesn't typically dress in costume for the family reunion, but this year was special and included a tour of the homestead. The cousins who sponsored the reunion created beautiful family time lines and documents, etc. I was impressed.

Especially since I am only recently learning about my own family history. That's another thing on my list of things to do. Recently I learned that names on both sides of my family are Scottish. Soon, hopefully, I'll be able to write more about the 'fifteen year old Cherokee princess' in my lineage.

My family never has family reunions. My father's family had them a few times, but we called them funerals. Now that both my parents have passed, I guess there won't be any more of those type of reunions.

While polkas were playing, I went shopping. The reunion was on the town square of a very small TX town. A road wraps around the small square where the historic courthouse and gazebo stand. The square is surrounded by little shops of antiques, gardening supplies, gift shops and a general store that hasn't changed since the early 1900's. I found this:

PURE soap. Yes, I am excited about the soap.

close the blinds!

Many deep thoughts rolling around in my head today--my spiritual journey, my marriage, my depression...
but I need to make lesson plans so I'll just leave you with this link .

Oh, and just a note, if you are walking on my property? You might see something you don't want to see. So, be warned, and stay on the sidewalk.