The Busy Sort of Hope

~Couldn’t wait to be able to photograph my daughter and her friends cheering in the daylight… but instead got home and  learned a very valuable lesson~ will come in handy in the future, so remember it,  *especially* should you ever wish to become a skydiver or a professional bungee jumper, or anything , really… ‘always, always, check your equipment before you use it!’

That being said, I had such an incredible weekend. Sold soup to save the boobies on Saturday. Watched our team play in their second to last tournament of the season.  Brought home silver. Lost a 9 game winning streak.   Was on the go from pre-dawn hours to post- sunset non stop both Saturday and Sunday.

Today I worked on perfecting the art of recliner sitting. Recovery day for me. I can remember my doctor telling my husband that if he needed me to do something I would need about 3 days to rest up before the something and about 3 days to recoup after the something. I can’t remember a time that I had 3 days of nothing. Except the last coma treatment that I had. Dr S calls my coma treatments forced relaxation for me.

I’ll relax. I swear. As soon as my kids do.

Here’s a little peak at my weekend. – most of the baseball shots are through a fence. certainly does change the look, doesn’t it-            darn fences. )

{ **Incidentally PHOTOGRAPHER FRIENDS **– I am shopping for a photo hosting site … suggestions??}

The “OoOoh SoOo Far Behind” Sort of Hope

Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana.”
― Groucho Marx

My days… my afternoons, my nights.. where do they go?

Sometimes I think that they get swallowed up by that mystical force that steals one of the socks from the dryer… ( St Elmo’s Fans?) Sometimes I am certain that they get lost in the time sucker that is facebook or in reading/ viewing this whole new glorious world of word press . I am, however,  fairly certain that a large chunk of my time is sucked into recouping in my lazyboy and most others I am all but positive my minutes are buried under the mountains and mountains of clothes that my children insist upon calling dirty laundry.

But for sure I can guarantee that a large part of my life is spent here… either at a baseball field watching my son do what he loves, or at a soccer game watching my daughter cheer, or editing such events. Sometimes I wonder how many pictures of such said events I *truly* need and people *truly* wish to see but then I see the comments people post, the way the kids post them so proudly and I just keep snapping and editing.. repeating the cycle. Looking for the picture I haven’t yet taken. Or a way to take it a wee bit differently.

My time does indeed fly like an arrow straight through my heart, because no matter how busy I am I try as hard as I can to keep up with my two kids. And no matter how much it hurts or how hard it is, I keep fighting every day because I also know that one day all too soon, they will fly away.

Maybe then I’ll get caught up.

The Sort of Hope that is Passionate

Passion.

It is a quality I both admire and respect in athletes. My kids have it in abundance for their respective chosen sports. Their friends have it, too. My husband still has it for his first love- baseball. I think I’ve found it for photography.

Rather than try to write about it and fail miserably, I thought I’d share my weekend full of passion-the rated PG (for language, not content) kind of passion- with all of you. The passion for what you do, accomplished by using my passion for what I do. I hope in every photo the passion for what these kids are doing is evident to you. Their story… their happiness, their success, their sadness and their failure. I will finish by sharing my very favorite quote about passion…

Passion, it lies in all of us, sleeping… waiting… and though unwanted… unbidden… it will stir… open its jaws and howl. It speaks to us… guides us… passion rules us all, and we obey. What other choice do we have? Passion is the source of our finest moments. The joy of love… the clarity of hatred… and the ecstasy of grief. It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion maybe we’d know some kind of peace… but we would be hollow… Empty rooms shuttered and dank. Without passion we’d be truly dead. ~ Joss Wheadon

(I have another blog entry called “the mood of the moment” that I try to update semi-regularly with some of my other favorite quotes and favorite self portraits-check it out)

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