"Frozen" Moment

Here are a few photos I took of the "frozen vegetables" (quoted by my brother, Paco).  I found an exceptional beauty in the ice-coated plants. When the sun touched them, they shriveled into blackened, soggy masses. While the ice still held them, however, they were frozen in majestic detail.

When a Mistake Is a Good Thing

Our garden is gone.  Our beautiful, flourishing, full-of-ripening-vegetables is gone.  Last night we let the automatic sprinklers run.  Combine that with an early frost and. . .gone.  Our garden is gone.  I woke up to an ice-covered, blackened mass of vines and leaves.  But after crying a bit, I realize now that it's okay.

We made a choice yesterday.  And apparently that choice required a sacrifice.  My husband, James, has spent the past ten months working on an accelerated Master's Degree. It was necessary, for job stability, and it fulfilled part of a dream that's he's had all of his adult life thus far.  Today he begins his Doctorate program, which again, is necessary to get where he needs to be.  The past ten months have been hard on us, and our children have been very understanding.  So yesterday we chose to leave town and have a day out, just for us, with no deadlines, no assignments waiting for us when we got home.  Simply a day out.  And we had a wonderful time (photos forthcoming).  So when we came home last night, James and I were tired, too tired too listen to that little voice that said, "Did you see the fall colors in the mountains?  Autumn is coming.  Do you feel the change in the air?  Autumn is almost here."  We needed an evening together, so we ignored the little voice, spent some valuable time together, and went to bed.  And our sweet little garden was sacrificed. 

But our family was not.

We could have spent the day at home, catching up on the yardwork, picking the vegetables.  If we had, we would have been in-tune with the weather more and would have recognized that the smell in the air meant frost.  And we could have turned off the sprinklers.  We would have saved part--if not all--of the garden.  But we chose our family.  Those little children are just as tender as the plants in our garden.  If we do not nourish them with love, and show them that they are important, that time with them is a good thing, then how can we hope to see them grow up as unselfish, thoughtful, productive beings?  We have spent a lot of time training them and teaching them to help around the home.  They themselves spent hours helping us tend this same garden.  And they deserved a day off, just like we did.  So we went.  And we were tired.  And we made a mistake.

And I can't regret it.

For My Peeps: Beady, Baleful, Bug Eyes!

My fellow amateur photography group (affectionately called My Peeps--Thanks to our clever Sheralee) set a challenge to take a photo reminding us of the letter B.  I originally had a cute idea involving my kids, but when I went searching, I came across this little guy.  I immediately thought of "B"eady, Baleful, Bug Eyes.  These grasshoppers are everywhere this time of year.  When we walk through the grass they jump on our legs, when we rummage in the garden, we find them clinging to all the vegetables.  Ick!  It amazes me that a critter that is so cute and tiny and green in the spring can turn into these brown, ugly, scratchy, nibbly pests!

I wish I had a true macro lens for this shot, but I did the best I could, especially without a handy tripod.