Feb #5 Arrangement..
Which I should subtitle ORDEAL.
“At what price beauty? ”
I think you have to be a woman to appreciate this one.
I pull a brush or two out of a drawer, and if I’m lucky they make it back into the drawer. Maybe that same day even!
Not this gal.. She’s got quite the ” ARRANGEMENT”.
And don’t mess with it.
This was one of the new Vintage lenses. But now I forget which one. I should’ve written it down. Sorry Marc.
Day #11- Signature.
“Red hair, sir, in my opinion, is dangerous.”
― P.G. Wodehouse, Very Good, Jeeves!
I ‘ve pretty much always had red hair. When I was younger it was a beautiful dark auburn red. Of course, as we age, things change and like it or not, if we wish to keep living, we must change with them. I decided very early that even though my red hair was being taken from me, I would do whatever it took to keep it red. (Thankfully my sister is a hair dresser!) Though I have often envied women who have gone from blonde to brunette and back again, I really never wanted to be one of them.
I. am. a. redhead.
My children tease me that if I ever stopped being a redhead they would never be able to find me anywhere again. My red hair definitely suits my personality, too. I am temperamental, moody and bitchy beyond belief. I am stubborn, strong- willed and “spirited”, passionate (in all senses of the word.) I have a friend from years ago who told me once that I’ve got “moxie” . (made me giggle.) and I suppose he’s right. I’m pretty mellow until you push me too far. My personality, just like my hair color, is high maintenance, too.
Naturally, given the “challenge” of thinking of “Signature” , the very first thing that came to my head ( haha) was my red hair. It is undoubtedly my signature.
Redheads banned from Donating Sperm! (6 fiery facts about Redheads)
Forgotten.
Childhood?
A favorite toy?
How to be a child?
Our children?
Natalia’s first gymnastic competition was on Saturday. She competed last year as a Level 7 USA Gymnast and this year is now an Advanced Prep Optional ( it’s a level for girls who don’t quite have all the skills for Level 8 or those who for whatever reason just aren’t ready to compete the next compulsory level quite yet. )
We could not have been more pleased with her performance! Gymnastics is such a fascinating sport to me. These girls train so intensely. I can’t wait for competition season so that I can be surprised by all of the new tricks that Natalia and her teammates have mastered during the off season. This year was no exception. Natalia has added a layout full twist to her floor routine. Floor is my favorite thing to watch the girls compete and I honestly think it’s the thing that our gym tends to excel at the most consistently.
Yesterday was no exception. Natalia ended up doing very well for her first meet- she placed First All Around (36.00). Captured a 1st on beam (9.3) and floor (9.25), and a first on bars (8.95) and a third on vault (8.5).
There was a bit of a some excitement and a resurgence of interest in gymnastics last year following the Olympics. I could not have been happier for the girls at the gym. I feel like what these gymnasts go through is sometimes underrated and under-appreciated and surely under-valued because it is not a school sport. I get upset because I personally think that they don’t get the recognition that I feel they deserve. If people knew how much work these girls put into learning just one simple ‘trick’, maybe they’d value the sport a bit more. These girls are true athletes. Hours and hours spent in a gym to master their craft. They have to be braver and stronger and even more courageous than most other athletes. Fear is a word that they check at the door.
Competition days are difficult for me. (though surely nothing like they are for the gymnasts!) They often involve long rides in the car, sitting for hours on cold hard bleachers and then long rides home again. We never eat right. Traveling with me is like traveling with a toddler. I ‘ve got my “goody bag”- water, snacks, socks, meds, music -for distraction if the pain gets bad, pillows, blankets, gloves… If you’ve learned anything by now, you know that things like travel and long days I don’t get along real well, but the only times I have missed her meets were because of treatments. If it were up to me, I’d watch her and her team compete every weekend! I’ll just deal with a longer recovery time afterward. She won’t be competing forever and while she is , I’m going to do my darndest to make sure when she looks up, she sees her mom in the crowd.
I’m not sure why, but yesterday I really struggled to photograph this event. Out of practice maybe? You cannot use flash in a gym, the lighting is typically even worse than in a school gym. Gymnasts move fast. Very fast. This was the first meet with all new routines so I wasn’t sure how to follow them. AND to complicate the process, for every event but the beam, I was shooting through the safety bars of the balcony. I did manage to get a few decent shots of each event.
Special thanks to my two photographer friends for responding to my panicked texts about how to try to take the shots from that meet. (and understanding that sometimes my panic is born of my disease and my over active nervous system making me forget every thing I already know!) You guys are life savers to me. Truly.
Anyway, for those of you who don’t have amazingly talented people who fly through the air with the greatest of ease, allow me to share mine! The girls of FGI. It’s a pretty short season – States is March 16- and our gym only competes about 5 meets- so enjoy these girls with me. They really are something special.
“When it snows, you have two choices, shovel or make snow angels” ~ unknown.
look which we picked!
Hello Blog world friends
I haven’t been able to blog much since the happenings in Newton CT last week. Haven’t been myself. Haven’t felt joy, or love, or even much ‘hope’. Until just these past few days.
However, I’m beginning to feel a tad bit better. I’ve witnessed at least 4 things that I’ve found noteworthy that have helped to change my opinion of our world. Things that I felt were worth sharing.
That made me feel a little bit better. Gave me a little hope back.
More hope restored. People who do things for no reason.
Got involved with it last year through Nick’s baseball organization. Due to a rainy fall season, and one fall snow-out, we had a bunch of left over food that we decided needed to be donated somewhere. Long story short- we found the somewhere.
I submit to you the letter that the President of Berkshire Baseball wrote which summed up yesterday so beautifully I couldn’t even begin to write another myself:
So today was my Christmas Day, my wife sometimes tells me that I am a scrooge, but that really isn’t a true statement. I really do love Christmas, I just hate the commercialization of Christmas that we experience in 2012 and really for most of my lifetime. Christmas isn’t about trees and lights and presents and gift cards and crazy crowds at the mall fighting over the latest video game or camping out to buy a $180 pair of sneakers.Christmas is about peace, love and joy. Christmas is about true giving. Not the giving of material things, but the giving of real things. Giving a hug. Giving a smile. Giving your time. Giving a meal. Giving to those in need. Giving because you as the “giver” receives as much joy from seeing the true joy that your gift brought to someone else. Whether that someone is a friend or stranger, you can touch someone’s life without running up your credit card debt.Today I was honored to be part of a community that has been labeled as the “poorest in the U.S.” and if a stranger stopped at 5th & Penn today, they would have sworn that we were the richest city in the union. There was no wrapping paper, no gift receipts, no disappointment in what we received. There was no pushing in line, there was no complaining.What there was, was love, joy, peace and giving. There were hugs, there were smiles, there was spirit. There was patience and understanding. There were burgers and dogs and soups and fresh fruit and cookies and coffee and hot cocoa and blankets and hats and even ice cream. There was black and there was white and there was music and it all blended together to make a perfect harmony and a beautiful sound.For about four hours today in this great city, we were all one. The size of our bank account didn’t matter, what we drove didn’t matter, the size of our house didn’t matter, the color of our skin didn’t matter.The only thing that mattered was that we were all there, together. Helping each other with what we had to share. Some gave time, some gave food, some gave money, some gave talents and all gave smiles.For two years in a row now, the true spirit of Christmas came to this city. For two years in a row, I have been able to celebrate my style of Christmas.I am humbled and grateful to be a small part of a great event with such wonderful and caring people.I showed up this morning to give what I could and again walked away this afternoon feeling as though I had received.Thank you to everyone who helped again to make “Cups of Compassion” reflect the true spirit of this city and this season. ~ Dan Clouser, President Berkshire Baseball
I am so lucky to be a part of an organization like Berkshire Baseball that fosters an environment of compassion and community spirit. More hope restored. People who do things just because.
And finally,
We are just a small salon. Things like that can’t be easy for my boss to decide to do. But she does. All the time. Without hesitation. And she never turns anyone away it seems. I am so lucky to be a part of that environment. More hope restored. People who do things just because. Difference makers.
~”why can’t every day be like Christmas?”
my apologies.. I’m getting past my limit physically right now and sometimes my mind struggles with coherent thoughts when my physical self reaches it’s max. It’s a constant battle between what I want to do and what I can do. 😦
“I must go seek some dew-drops here
And hang a pearl in every cowslip’s ear”
~ William Shakespeare
{Cowslip= primrose. Primrose = pretty little flowers <-for some of you guys. Thank you google 😉 }
Couldn’t decide if 2 was better than 1.
My pictures~
For numbers of dew drops~
Or just in general ?
(Some photographers can make drops of water sparkle like diamonds… I’m not one of those photographers…… yet. )
Welcome to November~November happens to be RSD Awareness Month! I kicked off awareness month by getting flushed.
For those new to my blog, I am sick. For 12 years I have had a disease called RSD. (reflex sympathetic dystrophy). I am currently receiving regular treatments through an amazing Dr in Philadelphia. This treatment requires regular access to my veins. It is kinda/sorta like chemotherapy but only for what I have. ( I do not have cancer most people associate ports with cancer so I always feel the need to over clarify this. ) RSD is a disease that affects the central nervous system. It changes the way my body works. It is different in almost everyone who develops it. It predominately affects skin, joints, muscles, bones and sometimes impacts the way the internal organs function( like it has with me). It’s most common trait is severe burning pain. Constant relentless burning.
My port is to make my life just a little easier. A little less painful. My port requires routine maintenance to keep it functioning properly. The maintenance of this port is referred to as a “flush”. It always makes me giggle. (what it’s called, certainly not the flushing itself, as it involves the insertion of a needle and as far as I am concerned, that is *never* funny.) I go to the Infusion Suite at the local hospital since they have been kind enough to save me the 55 miles that I normally travel to my doctor just for this literally 2 minute procedure. The nurses and staff at the Infusion Suite are probably some of the greatest , kindest people I have ever had the pleasure to deal with. I always feel badly about taking them away from the very sick people there and they never make me feel like the inconvenience I go there feeling like. My Dr and I decided I needed a port because my veins kept blowing. Also because IV’s are painful and every time a person with RSD gets a stick somewhere, it is a possibility that their condition can spread or at the very least, cause the condition to flare up. Getting a port was probably one of the best decisions I have made for my own healthcare to date. I had my port inserted right before my first 7 day inpatient Ketamine Coma over 2 years ago which was another great move because I wasn’t really awake to feel any post surgical pain until over a week later.
Most of the time I forget I even have a port. Until I see it. Or feel it. Or bump it. My daughter is somewhat fascinated by my port. She is one of the only ones who seems to ‘like’ to touch it. She likes to feel the “straw” that is inserted up into the main artery into my neck. She’s an odd child.
My port is not without it’s own issues, though. Somehow, out of all the port insertions, in all the operating rooms, mine falls a little short. Literally. Because of that, it has trouble giving returns. The “straw” ( catheter) that is supposed to go into the main part of my heart is just a fraction too short. So while it works to give me my treatments, ( put things into me) it doesn’t often work for blood return, as the catheter sometimes randomly floats between the main ( big) vein ( artery? ) vein, (I think) and the smaller one right next to it. I can’t really think about it or it freaks me out. Something is randomly floating inside my heart. Ya, cool.
I had a port buddy. His name was Kerry. He used to tease me that his “3rd nipple” was better than mine because it had more holes. ( he had a fancier sort of port). Sadly, the world lost him a few months ago after his valiant fight with cancer. We used to talk about being sick together all the time. He was one of the few people who I ever actually truly talked about being sick with. We discussed how we hated it, our constant struggles, how we hated what it did to our families and how much fighting we did with ourselves. He truly “got it” . I miss him. He was feisty. I loved that about him.
I both love and hate my port. It has saved me countless sticks. But when I do see it, or bump it, it serves as a reminder that I am not who I once was, I am now RSD Hope. And RSD Hope has to get flushed.
“Life may not be the party we hoped for , but we should all dance” ~ somebody at some time said it.
Welcome to their party.
Homecoming 2012.
I am the last person to post my homecoming pics so I decided I’d post a few of the outtakes instead of just all of the happy ‘smile for the camera’ shots. Aren’t I lucky that they allow me into their world?
While we were in the backyard of one of Natalia’s friends, a neighbor of hers came out and asked if we would like to come inside and use his unique home for some photographic opportunities. His ‘home’ was what I can only describe as one of the most beautiful, cleverly decorated old factories in our quaint little town. Hardwood floors, mile high ceilings, incredible stained glass detail throughout. It resonated character and charm. I am only sad that I didn’t take the opportunity to photograph more of the home as well as the girls with some of his favorite toys. It definitely was a different way to shoot homecoming photos.
It is Tues as I post this and it’s taken me this long to recover from our weekend. I trust the teens have recouped quicker.
My favorite “getting dressed up for something with someone else ” song…
~ “you wear those shoes and I will wear those dress” ~
How the color pink affects us physically and mentally:
Stimulates energy
Can increase the blood pressure, respiration, heartbeat, and pulse rate
Encourages action and confidence
Pink has been used in prison holding cells to effectively to reduce erratic behavior
Every year my son’s baseball organization- Berkshire Baseball- plays in a tournament to help raise money for Breast Cancer Awareness. The boys proudly wear their pink shirts and swing pink bats ordered just for the day. We moms help in this effort by donating baked goods to sell, make bbq and soups or the like. We have all helped to raise thousands of dollars every year for the cause.
These photos are just a few of my favorite pictures from last years’ event. I did not know half of what I know now about my treasured Nikon nor how it really worked last year at this point. I say this for a reason.
This event is an effort near and dear to my heart as my best friend is a breast cancer survivor having been diagnosed at the very young age of 36. I watched her battle breast cancer with such amazing grace. Sat with her through all of her chemo treatments. She is one of my inspirations. Her strength gave me the strength I needed (continue to need) to fight my disease.
I now personally know at least 5 women who have battled breast cancer. Some have beat the monster, some have battled valiantly and yet still found that this life held other plans for them. Like my disease, there is no known cure for Breast Cancer. It is incomprehensible to me that in this day and age, we cannot figure out a way to abolish this disease or at least make it less deadly.
What a difference this past year has made for me as an artist, a photographer. Maybe someday, with our help, that year- those 12 months- will make a difference for the countless number of women who are diagnosed with Breast Cancer.
{ I will come back to this post after we finish our tournament and upload some of my new pictures.}
allsortsofhope 