These Are The Days

Daddy lost a sister this week. As I'm typing this, he and mama, along with several other relatives are riding in a rented van toward Moline, Illinois where they will lay to rest my aunt Ruth. Yes, we are again saying goodbye to a loved one on that side of the family, just a few months after burying two uncles. I know it's that season of life when age is catching up with daddy's generation, but the reality of that is very troubling to me. I just hate losing all those folks who colored my childhood with their presence and influence. More and more their presence is my life is more memory than contact.


Daddy's almost the baby of the family, and not until recently did I begin to realize that means that as long as his health is good, he will likely witness the deaths of most of his siblings. I can't imagine how difficult that will be, especially since he and his brothers and sisters are so close. Growing up poor on a farm in southern Illinois, they relied on each other for everything. They scratched out a living and made their own entertainment. Together. They shared clothes, shoes and toys, and the older kids helped the younger ones. There were chores and hard times but lots of laughter, and when you listen to them tell stories about their childhood, it doesn't take long to figure out that they were richer than many others who had more money.

The call about aunt Ruth came early yesterday morning, although I actually saw a family post about it on FaceBook before mama had a chance to get hold of me. Since then, I've spent a lot of time thinking about the deaths in my family in the past few years and the stage of life I'm at right now. Time is flying. Way too fast. Loved ones are slipping away, and my hair is grayer than it used to be. God bless Miss Clairol. Life is moving so fast I sometimes feel as if I might just fly off the face of the earth if it doesn't stop spinning so hard. I feel the soldiers of time crawling over my back and running me down. There's so much to do. So much to experience. And there are people who won't be there to experience it with me. My emotions have been all over the place in the past 36 hours as I process this.

Driving down the road this afternoon, I was caught by surprise by a single tear that slid down my cheek unexpectedly. A single tear for the ones lost, the weariness I'm feeling from taking care of Papa T. and the things I would do differently if given the opportunity. Opportunities not taken. Words I can never take back. And yet there are smiles, too. Smiles for the dares and challenges accepted, for the people who enrich my life and the memories they've given me. If I close my eyes, I can recall warm summer nights in grandma's yard, sprinkled with the laughter of my cousins as we played hide and seek and the light of captured fireflies flashing in a fruit jar. I hear the voices of aunts and uncles solving the world's troubles and cranking out homemade ice cream. I see and hear it all and smile. Time is moving quickly folks. These are the days we must savor. We must hold them in our heart.

Quotography-"Wildlife"

For lack of anything rowdy like bears or raccoons, I'll go with the common grasshopper.  He's one of my favorites, actually.  Or so it would seem based on my photography folders.  For the other wonderful entries, hop on over to here.  Get it?  HOP on over?  Never mind.

My First Newborn Shoot

It was two, actually.  Little Miss E. cried through the first one, but she had a lactose issue so I didn't take it personally.  So, we had a second shoot.  Both had some poop, major poop.  And a lot of laughs.  Newborns...not easy, but totally worth it.  So much fun photographing this little one...both times.





How Many Days Until Spring?

We've had some chilly rain the past couple of days.  It's wet and dreary here, and truth be told, it makes me a tad bit grumpy.   This morning was even grayer and gloomier than yesterday, but I did perk up for a little bit around 7am because, even though it was cold and nasty, I do love a good photo op that involves fog.  These are from the city park.  And these would be why the bottoms of my pants have been muddy all day. 

My Favorite Sign on Bourbon Street

And a huge *@# beer had nothing to do with why this picture is so fuzzy.  It was low lighting and poor exposure.  I promise.

The Year of the Sinus Drip

The Chinese are calling this the year of the dragon, but they're wrong. It's the year of the pneumococcal bacteria. At least around our house anyway. Just two months after Papa T. spent eighteen days in the hospital with pneumonia, Hubby has walking pneumonia, oh yes he does. To the tune of four prescriptions and a shot in the butt. A shot which apparently was a little painful given the current tenderness of his backside. Funny, he didn't think it was very humorous when I made a joke about him being a pain in the arse. The doctor wanted to put him in the hospital yesterday, but Hubby politely declined with the promise to get a chest X-ray Thursday and to consider the hospital if things have not improved by then. Or if Papa T. stomps on his last nerve one more time. Whichever comes first. When Hubby called me with the news yesterday, I rolled my eyes toward heaven and said, "Really?" Great googly moogly. We can't have everyone around here healthy at one time for more than thirty days at a time. It's enough to make a gal wanna hibernate until cold and flu season is over. Or the next Matthew McConaughey centerfold is published. Whichever comes first.


I knew we were gonna have sinus issues the minute we landed in Nashville last week and realized just how annoying it can be to go from the 80 degree tropics to a 30 degree climate. The pressure in my head started soaring as soon as our plane hit the ground. I went into neti pot overdrive, and Hubby developed a stopped up nose almost immediately. It took about three days for his cough to develop, and it's been downhill since then. The poor man is coughing like a forty year chain smoker. He sounds like that lady who works the shoe counter at the bowling alley whose diet is mostly whiskey sours and Marlboro's. I knew he felt bad Sunday when he actually mentioned he was going to the doctor Monday if he didn't feel any better. His willingness to go to a doctor is the equivalent of Israel calling up Palestine and saying, "Can't we just get along?" In fact, I thought about calling an ambulance then 'cause he was obviously hitting a low point. For as long as I've known him, he has NEVER willingly gone to the doctor. It's always been by force. I think Papa T.'s pneumonia showed him though, that things can go south very quickly and it's best to take care of yourself instead of trying to tough it out. Because, hey, after age fifty, toughing it out doesn't really work so well without a few antibiotics.

So, for the next couple of days he plans to take his medicine and see what happens. I'm hoping the drugs do the trick, and he doesn't end up in the hospital 'cause I'm not namin' any names, but someone around here is C-R-A-N-K-Y when he's really sick. As in gripe and groan and whine to the nth degree cranky. I feel bad for him because no doubt the exhaustion he feels on a daily basis from taking care of Papa T. was a factor in his illness, and there's no letup in sight on that front. He has enough to deal with without being sick. Poor baby. And let's hope that mess isn't catching. That's all I need is a week in bed. Although, I'm only one case of flu away from my goal weight. Just kidding. Sort of. No, really, I'm kidding.

The year of the dragon is supposed to be a lucky year. Let's hope 2012 is a little better for us than 2011. And may it be full of eggrolls. And shrimp fried rice. And pressed chicken. May the year be full of blessings for everyone, including good health. Or a Matthew McConaughey centerfold. Whichever comes first.

Psst...I was born in the year of the dragon. In fact, I'm a wooden dragon. If you have time, read this article about dragon babies. Yikes, it fits me to a tee. Right down to the Miss Bossy Pants part.

Quotography-"Sadness"

The picture is from Pere LaChaise Cemetery in Paris.  If you ever get a chance to visit that cemetery, please do.  It is a fascinating place.  Now, to check out the other entries this week, hop on over to here.