It’s a typical scenario…we pack up the essentials and prepare to venture out to our next big adventure. Alongside me, strapped across my chest and resting on my hip, is my camera with my 50mm 1.4 lens. Most every time, I walk away from our recent adventure fully satisfied with the images. But things become redundant and monotonous.
With the snowy weather coming to a halt (I say this immediately following a brief snow shower at the end of March, with a ton of sarcasm) we found our way to the dog park across the street from our apartment. It’s smell-free…who knew large-sized hamster mulch could kill the odor of dog poo…and chock full of nice people wanting to enjoy the outdoors with their pups. We followed in suit with Fritz and I thought to switch things up with my lens choice and challenge myself a tad. So we went through our typical scenario and when it came time to strap my camera across my chest, I rested on it my 70-200mm 2.8 lens.
It’s easy to get caught up in the monotony of life – photography is one of those things though that you really can’t get lazy with. You can’t just always do what you do – there have to be times when you take a different approach and try something different…break your own glass ceiling…be a risk-taker.
Go – be a rebel today. Do something you normally don’t do. You may surprise yourself in how refreshing it was for you personally and how beneficial it was to you photographically.
love (stepping outside of my self-created box),
Realistically, I may not have too many more years with my oldest. This year she’s 13 – in cat years that’s…what…80? Geesh.
In my youth she took care of me. She pet me when I was sad (for those who don’t have a cat, this is when the cat rubs his/her head against your arm/shoulder/head/foot in an effort to pet their self), she laid at my head when I was sick and she attempted to protect me from the evil doings of Sasha.
The roles seem to have reversed more often these days. I find myself finding her to hand out some pets, picking her nose because she’s getting lazy in her old age and laying beside her just to hear her purrbox go nutso.
Despite her years, she can still put a mean whoopin’ on Sasha. 🙂
I love you Peachy-girl. Happy Friday all!
love (the idea of South Carolina in three days),
Okay the title of this post isn’t entirely true. She’s nice…sometimes. There are those times when I find her curled up on my pillow and she’s purring just waiting for me to give her pets.
Then there are those moments when I’m on the phone with clients and I’m avoiding using every foul word imaginable out of sheer frustration – and pain – because she’s biting my ankles.
Either way she means the world to me…and this is what she likes to do for fun. Watch birds…chirp/bark at them…then give up and instead decide to terrorize Fritz. I left the terrorizing part out of this segment pictorally because it’s all about the love on this blog…and not so much the ankle-biting hate.
Sasha…the occasionally sweet girl. Happy Friday all! Sorry for my absence this week – the time change left me without something to talk about…I’ll do my best to make up for my lack of posting for the rest of the month!
love (gray meow meow’s),
…of a punished pup.
In time out…thinking about what he’s done…because (as he knows) pooping in the house out of sheer defiance is a no-no. Yet, as he pouts from underneath the bed because I won’t give him pets…I lean down and take pictures of him because he’s so.stinking.cute.
That’s the kind of mom I am – the kind that sees photographic opportunities in the midst of punishment. Will I be the one taking a picture of my child with his/her nose to the wall? I can’t say no with certainty. 🙂
Happy Friday all!
love (beagle bums),
When I first moved in, I was offended. I mean…she’s my cat…why wouldn’t she want to sleep with me? She’s always slept with me.
But, realistically, it’s just a bed. If she wants to sleep with her new best friend (and my totally awesome little sister) Julie…I guess that’s not so bad. So long as she knows who still feeds her and cleans out her nasty litter box…it’s not too bad.
Happy Friday everyone! Have a great weekend!
love (my sweet orange flufferluffin’),
All of my long-time friends know you. Some of them, in fact, remember dressing you up like a doll when you were just seven weeks old and I would pretend to rock you to sleep like a baby. You never really liked that…the spitting and hissing of your stank breath in my face gave that little factoid away. But you have always been there when no one else was. When I was broken-hearted and let down by others, you were there to drool on my hand and purr incessantly on my chest. When I had to leave you with Mom during college, I would find you asleep in my bedroom when I returned home for long weekends, waiting for me. And there again, the incessant purrs and drooling would commence.
You were so tiny when I first adopted you; fitting into the palm of my hand really says something about your size. Your poops were so small I could scoop them out of your litter box with a plastic soup spoon. While your poops are much bigger (and stinkier) these days, and you’re going on 13 years old, you’re still my baby girl.
I really appreciate you letting me take pictures of you over the years…
I know there were days when you didn’t feel pretty enough for the camera…
…and you preferred hiding out and giving me stank eye…
…but you’re a beautiful orange ball of fluff and the best ol’ girl in the world for putting up with me.
love (your furmomma),
She’s sweet and tiny and I could snuggle her forevvvvver! I think Jeff FINALLY wants one of his own…
Meet Chloe. I call her Poopy.
After the wedding…after the wedding…must wait until after the wedding. Until then, I’ll just work on being the greatest Fur-Auntie on the planet.
Happy Friday, all! Nothing but weddings and maternity sessions in the forecast for me this weekend — have a spectacular weekend!
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love (puppy breath),