"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.

More Chicken Adventures

Conner goes outside to gather eggs from the chickens.  Conner puts eggs in pockets.  Conner decides to practice catching chickens.  Chickens do not want to be caught today.  Conner slips and falls.  Conner returns to house. In the meantime,  Mommy is desperately trying to edit Daddy's final assignment so they can be finished with his accelerated Master's program FOREVER.  Conner wanders all over house trying to find Mommy in order to tell her that his shorts are covered in mud and dripping egg.   Daddy tries to intervene, but Mommy sees Conner's shorts before Daddy can hide Conner from Mommy.  Mommy decides to write story on blog instead of having nervous breakdown.

And here is the version I wrote first, which is a little more "embellished" (It's a little more "wishful thinking," although I do tease my hubby about "owing" me photo toys for every week's assignment that I've edited.  James always says that I've earned the Master's degree just as much as he has!):

Conner goes outside to gather eggs from the chickens.  Conner puts eggs in pockets.  Conner decides to practice catching chickens.  Chickens do not want to be caught today.  Conner slips and falls.  Conner returns to house. In the meantime,  Mommy is desperately trying to edit Daddy's final assignment so they can be finished with his accelerated Master's program FOREVER.  Conner wanders all over house trying to find Mommy in order to tell her that his shorts are covered in mud and dripping egg.   Daddy tries to intervene, but Mommy sees Conner's shorts before Daddy can hide Conner from Mommy.  Mommy has a nervous breakdown.  Daddy promises Mommy new tripod to make her feel better.  Mommy does feel better.  Mommy decides she will help Daddy with four more years of a Doctorate degree so she can have additional photography equipment to make her feel better.  Mommy gently reminds Conner that he will need to be more careful with eggs in the future, so the Hodson family can spend less money on food and more money on schooling and photography equipment.

Chicken-sitting the "peeps"

Yes, you heard right: we are chicken sitting for some friends while they are on vacation.  We have several chickens that we keep, so our friends asked us if their little "peeps" could run with ours for a few days.  "The more the merrier," our kids said--especially Conner--so here they are.  Of course we can't babysit a few chickens without a scrapbook page being made, right?  So I ran down to the coop yesterday to catch a few shots.  This is one of them.  Notice the "peepers" on that "peep" focused on me?  Well, about three seconds after I snapped this photo, she decided she didn't like being a subject and flew at me.  Luckily, the camera and I survived, and I still managed a few more shots, but this is probably the best of the bunch.  But it makes a great story, right?

Half of a photo shoot

Before we went to Oregon this year, my mom and I planned a "photo shoot" for her and my dad. I looked forward to it, as an amateur seeking practice (and as simply a time to take photos of my folks). Unfortunately, we never found the time. And that's okay. It was a busy time, and I ended up having the impromptu landscape shoots with my dad. But I did manage to catch my mom one day in between yard work and grandkids. We took the photos in her little bamboo grove. And I'm rather pleased with how they turned out.

So here is my mom. This is the woman who raised six children, never asking for recognition for herself. This is the woman who was always there at the end of the school day, or late at night if I needed to talk through my "teenage woes." This is the woman who never missed an opportunity to express her faith in God or her love for her children. This is the woman who showed generosity and compassion for others. This is the woman whose footsteps I follow, a woman who chose "homemaking" over a career, yet strove to improve and educate herself wherever she felt necessary. This is the woman who still stands by my father, in all times and all circumstances. This is my mom.

Father-daughter bonding moment

One of the reasons I discovered an interest in photography and storytelling was because of my parents.  As a little girl, I would "borrow" (sometimes for weeks at a time) my mom's photo albums.  She took photos of everything and recorded the events for us.  My dad, on the other hand, was the creative photographer.  During our two-year stay on Midway Island, he took slide after slide of "goony birds" (albatross), the beaches, and the lagoon.  When we moved to Oregon, he used the darkroom in his dental office to develop incredible black and white photos.  Many of our weekend family jaunts included Dad taking photos of waterfalls, Dad taking photos of the coast, and Dad taking photos of the fog-filled forest.  Well, it's my turn now (insert gleeful squeal).

I'm very much the amateur photographer, but I love it.  And I take every chance I can to try something new.  We took the kids to a waterfall near my folks' house (we'll see if my family members recognize it when they see the photos) and while my mom, hubby, and two brothers played with the kids, my dad coached me in taking some waterfall shots.  The photos turned out great, but more importantly I got to spend time doing something with my dad that I had wanted to do since I was a little girl.  That in itself makes these photos more priceless than all the gold in the world.