Montage

I was watching my latest round of photos upload to the PC tonight. Every few photos I'd catch myself repeating the same line, "Oh, I ought to blog about. . ." And so, with so many little 'ought to's' running laps through my brain, I figured tonight was a good night for a this and that post.

Gee, Thanks kid!
Normally Tuesday is a work day. But not this Tuesday. Today was Logan's last day of school and I wanted to be there to take him in and pick him up. I took a vacation day. Only, technically speaking, I'm self-employed, which means I don't actually get vacation days. I get days without pay. And, since, technically speaking, my boss never actually told his boss I wasn't in today, I ended up with a pile of work to do anyway.

This is not something that often sits well with boy. I put Meg in for her nap and settled in to draft a rather nifty, fairly important document. "Logan," I said with as much calm authority as I could muster being fairly miffed at having my vacation day usurped, "As soon as I get this done, we can play."

That lasted for about five minutes. Around that time Logan's little head appeared next to me. "Mommy," he said sternly, "I think you need to stop working now and you need to start to play. Stop working. Stop. Now."

"Ahh, love to. Can't. Logan, if you let me finish this up without harassing me, I can get done faster and THEN we can play. Isn't Clifford on?" I said with a sweet (somewhat fake, I admit) smile.

"Mommy. No. More. Working."

"Logan. Knock. It. Off." And then I tried to explain it to him. "See, if I don't get this done, then the big boss will be very mad."

He paused. He glared. "And then what?" he asked.

"Well, then he might tell me I have no more work to do because I have no more job," I said. And it wasn't just fodder for my son's future therapy sessions. Big boss is in one of those moods where people get fired for a myraid of reasons. Yet I was annoyed. I was annoyed with working. I was annoyed with him for questioning my working. So I added in one more thought for good measure, "No more work means no more toys. It means no more peanut butter."

He didn't even stop to think. He just smiled at me sweetly and said, "And then you'd be a bad Mommy."

I'm not quite sure I recall what I said to him after I picked my jaw up off the floor.
--

Starting to blue
The previously mentioned favorite flowers are starting to show their blue tints. As promised, a photo to prove it:


--
Accidental Art
I'm still doing a lot of playing with the new camera. I like to mess with the different settings. I like to look at various photographable objects from different angles. Let's face it, all this experimentation means a whole lot of photos. My husband is thankful we're not paying to print it all.

This evening I elected to lie on the ground and look up - the bright yellow wild flowers next to the house hanging over me. I spun the dial, selected a color-accented setting. Elected to highlight "Blue." Aimed. Fired.

And this was the result. . .totally untouched by anything resembling Photoshop I swear.


--

And yet I forget
As we rushed out of the house to get Logan to school this morning I had a momentary glitch in the thinking things through department. I had flirted with the idea of brining my beloved camera and then brushed the idea off like it was a fly on my BBQ dinner.

After deposting Logan with his teachers, Meg and I headed to the park - the park with the nature center. And the butterfly garden. And the marsh with the big birds and the perfect alcove to throw rocks into water without worrying about losing a toddler to the sea.

Megan made herself at home, first, in the butterfly garden. I was watching her try to sniff the flowers when the thought first crossed my mind. "That would make a cute picture. Oh crap. The camera. I left it home."

Just because I'm obessed now, the three of us are going back to the park tomorrow. Mosquitos and pine flies be damned.