tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86323406731627952502024-03-12T22:57:38.624-06:00hope wallspictureLOVE, edmonton photographer, family, wedding, newborn. Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger1497125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8632340673162795250.post-68455512648877923442019-07-06T23:08:00.000-06:002019-07-06T23:08:22.923-06:00Two So in Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This adorable couple is getting married. At sunset. In September. Overlooking the river valley. ~swoon~ Hit play and scroll down to see their engagement session!!!</div>
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They got engaged at the Jubilee Auditorium, so they called and asked if we could do their engagement photos there. As much as we had realllly hoped for a photo of them sitting in the empty theatre, when we arrived we were told that we could only use the lobby due to work being done on the orchestra pit.</div>
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Fortunately, they got engaged on the 2nd floor in the lobby. This was almost the exact spot he popped the question.<br />
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My favourite thing about this couple is how much they tease one another - there was no shortage of "Kodak" moments.<br />
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There is so. much. natural light. So much! I was in heaven!!!<br />
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And the stairs....<br />
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This was my favourite spot <3<br />
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We headed outside for a bit...<br />
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The covered walkway at the back of the Jubilee is pretty amazing, too.<br />
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These two. Did I mention ~swoon~?<br />
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We grabbed one last photo and were ready to wrap it up when the security guard appeared.<br />
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The house manager said as long as we stayed on the balcony and the guard stayed with us, we could shoot inside the auditorium. And whoa, momma - THIS was the shot we had wanted from the start. ~heart-eye emojis go here~<br />
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Thank you, J and C, for a fun (and as you saw, painless!) morning at the Jubilee. I cannot WAIT to see you all gussied up.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8632340673162795250.post-65270941014572532352019-06-30T06:24:00.001-06:002019-06-30T22:48:46.324-06:00We took the babies home with us after<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
You might remember these two from <a href="https://hopewallsphotography.blogspot.com/2019/02/vegas-baby.html" target="_blank">our trip to Vegas </a>earlier this year. They met at a car club so it's only fitting that one of their wedding colours was Subaru racing blue and they got married on a race track during a drifting event. </div>
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We hit <a href="https://ppir.com/" target="_blank">Pike's Peak International Raceway</a> for rehearsal the night before.</div>
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And yes, they always laugh this much. It's part of what makes them awesome to be around.<br />
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In fact, their entire families are awesome. Except when the mother of the groom accidentally gives your husband so many cocktails that he's the last one to rise on the morning of the wedding...<br />
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Staying with the bride and groom has its perks. In particular, two beautiful little girls who have completely and utterly stolen my heart. I wasn't even sad that Bill slept in because I got to monopolize their time.<br />
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SR chilled with YouTube videos of people opening Play-Doh (WTH is that all about?) while VN got a sink bath.<br />
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VN was fine with bathing, diapering, and a lotion rub down.<br />
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But she nearly died from having clothes put on. #truestory<br />
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Dad came by to make her feel better (and wrangle her) so that SR could have a sink bath, too.</div>
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Mom knows that SR's sink bath days are numbered but hopefully by the time she outgrows the sink, SR can bathe herself by then so Mom doesn't have to hunch over the tub. Tall girl problems.<br />
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Dad's a bit of a knucklehead sometimes - he made SR angry when he came and rinsed some ice off in the sink and splashed her.</div>
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The Groom's best friend showed up at the house, which was good since wrangling a baby takes a crew of at least 3.<br />
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Time for some fancy hair-do doing. Mom trained SR to sit still for this starting at an early age.<br />
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I, on the other hand, still fight with my 15-year old daughter when it's time to get her hairs did.<br />
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Auntie Bill finally got out of bed, and he's as good as 5 baby wranglers all on his own, but when the aunties and uncles started showing up, it was time for him to put down the kidlets and pick up the camera so the Bride, me, and the two munchkins could head for the track and get ready.<br />
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The Groom's family lived in Belgium for several years and two of their friends came to Canada for the wedding. We had met the ladies the night we arrived in Colorado (the Bride was breastfeeding and had to ditch early on her own bachelorette party because her boobs were sore after a long day of running errands) and again at the rehearsal dinner, but there wasn't much time for talk so it was really nice to see them first thing when we arrived at the PPIR. They had a family tree bracelet for the Bride...<br />
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And sweet-as charm bracelets for the girls.<br />
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... and immediately jumped in to help with anything they could, from trimming pieces of lace tablecloth to ironing.<br />
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The Bride's Dad is a card. I told him he wasn't allowed to be in the room with us and his solution was to shield his face with a purse. Or maybe it's his murse. Hard to say with him - he's always been a little strange.<br />
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The Bride got into make-up several years ago and did an AMAZEBALLS job. If she lived in Canada I'd bring her on as one of my preferred artists... though she did need help putting her <strike>fans</strike> eyelashes on...<br />
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Meanwhile, SR found the plastic bag her and her baby sister's dresses travelled in to be a great toy. Not only did it make a stunning fashion statement, but she managed to learn a new "popping" game from one of the Belgian sisters. Just like bubble wrap, only better. Her face against the window? She had eaten all the nuts I'd stolen from next door and asked me to go get her more. Like they were hers in the first place. She's lucky she's cute.<br />
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Back at the house, the Groom was busy grooming.<br />
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The Bride's little sister is a total sweetheart. My daughter and I got to meet her last summer and it was nice to see her again, too! She graduates next year and already has plans for college.<br />
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Not wanting to have tiny lashes, the Bride's soon-to-be sister-in-law also got some help getting her lashes on.<br />
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Who doesn't feel like a total rockstar laying in someone's lap getting spiders applied to their eyelids on the floor of a reception hall while a drifting event happens right outside the window?<br />
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The Groom's Mom owns a salon and did most of the ladies' hairs, but it really was a team event.<br />
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Next door, Plan B to move seating inside to where the dance floor would later be was implemented due to the rain that had crept in. More importantly, though, desserts from <a href="http://www.littlelondoncakeshoppe.com/" target="_blank">Little London Cake Shoppe</a> were being laid out.<br />
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A sidebar is needed here to talk about the Father-of-the-Bride's wife, who took charge on pretty much all of the decorating, from getting the linens ironed (by me and the Groom's Dad) to the tablescapes to making the corsages, boutonnieres, and bouquets, this lady is way talented!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhgLdvIY9V3XJOvLxY5pn3L1ZeON4N6QRWfI3MehX69Zr-6dzfcrH1XOO41wKzGxjtTJZI-9rPOKmBJS0lLToUFsz2FuDaKKxoh-MD2YmMY2osaGY_xNt7yhm6aJOryfUyq6y8-jHyUqV6/s1600/2019-06-29_0028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="969" data-original-width="1600" height="386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhgLdvIY9V3XJOvLxY5pn3L1ZeON4N6QRWfI3MehX69Zr-6dzfcrH1XOO41wKzGxjtTJZI-9rPOKmBJS0lLToUFsz2FuDaKKxoh-MD2YmMY2osaGY_xNt7yhm6aJOryfUyq6y8-jHyUqV6/s640/2019-06-29_0028.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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(I asked the Bride's Dad if he should have had callipers handy to make sure all the cupcakes were equidistant on the stands, but he assured me he had it mentally mastered.)<br />
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With the finishing touches in place for dinner, it was time for the groomsmen to arrive and for everyone to get their ties and flowers on. (And apparently chug a RedBull...)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZS5SgIbdeIfEwPl0rxrr9vgDFyshL8nc3jL9ZzQ7m5ZTjWxWitM-PadhoGA1KrQix3MNLEGtvlnbvArwU8KRYq6eqSZ8jd9Mr1ptXqsyOpaX0KtgnsHFvVRe4bSZv-jP5EY5WZVHTSwMH/s1600/2019-06-29_0036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1479" data-original-width="1600" height="590" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZS5SgIbdeIfEwPl0rxrr9vgDFyshL8nc3jL9ZzQ7m5ZTjWxWitM-PadhoGA1KrQix3MNLEGtvlnbvArwU8KRYq6eqSZ8jd9Mr1ptXqsyOpaX0KtgnsHFvVRe4bSZv-jP5EY5WZVHTSwMH/s640/2019-06-29_0036.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I left the gentlemen to put on a few last-minute touches, like levelling the table for the sand ceremony to see how the ladies were getting along.<br />
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Now.<br />
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If you've never had the pleasure of watching someone put on a Spanx bodysuit, it's really quite an event...<br />
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Once the Bride was wrestled into her fancy underpants, it was time for dresses. The Bride's BFF made made this gorgeous wedding gown (that's actually long enough!) for her, and some crazy Canadian chick made the girls' dresses and smuggled them on the plane without paying for extra carry-on (shhhh. don't tell the cranky lady at the Westjet counter I didn't leave them in the backpack...)<br />
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Another sidebar here - remember I mentioned the Belgian sisters? Well, one of them happens to be a <a href="http://www.sallydor.be/" target="_blank">jewelry designer</a> and brought these incredibly gorgeous rings as a gift for the couple. They are soooooo pretty!!!</div>
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Getting the Bride into her dress was a struggle, too. For her, anyway.<br />
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(At least she comes by it honestly - her Gramma was having her own silent struggles elsewhere.)<br />
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The Groom's son was a bit late arriving, so the Belgian sisters gave him his gift just moments before the girls got buttoned into their dresses.</div>
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Miss SR had been waiting All. Day. Long. to put her dress on. VN, on the other hand, wasn't any more impressed with getting dressed a second time than she was with the first.<br />
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Once VN was in her dress, she seemed quite content to go back to looking out her giant fishbowl. SR made me go get her more nuts.<br />
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The Groom's mom was the last to get her hair and make-up finished. She had wanted a the blue version of her dress, but they didn't have on in her size. Her options were grey or purple, and she went with purple. It's a gorgeous dress on her, but you'll notice that it changes colour in a few pictures. No, you're not locing your mind - I did that on purpose lol<br />
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Hey! Who let the riff raff in? No, wait - that's my husband/co-shooter and the Bride's big brother/usher. Never mind.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXLE7oA5729ezdkVWTJbejVYoYqjyhjFB-W7HPS9R1E-ZKUwYcqOm7qUA_yyFjsk0ZYTdoBh1W9ArGj1JB74H4vrUs_CPXsOaOVMoPoPqdArRhYhZU2zOWZzwWaOdsQjglEQZOnJt-G8Pa/s1600/2019-06-29_0041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1478" data-original-width="1600" height="590" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXLE7oA5729ezdkVWTJbejVYoYqjyhjFB-W7HPS9R1E-ZKUwYcqOm7qUA_yyFjsk0ZYTdoBh1W9ArGj1JB74H4vrUs_CPXsOaOVMoPoPqdArRhYhZU2zOWZzwWaOdsQjglEQZOnJt-G8Pa/s640/2019-06-29_0041.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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And suddenly, it was go-time.<br />
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For not having managed to do a walk-through or practice run with dropping petals, these two did a wonderful job.<br />
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The Bride's Dad offered her a breath mint and then sat down to watch his baby get wed.<br />
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This wedding was truly, deeply a family affair - the Bride's Grampa got commissioned so that he could perform the ceremony.<br />
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Each of the couple's fathers did a reading, and I confess it was hard to not get emotional - I often have blurry shots during the ceremony because I am a sympathetic cryer and bridesmaids are basically evil, but this time was all on my own because I've known this family for 17 or so years and have watched the Bride grow from a snotty 6-year old to a rebellious teenager to a dedicated, incredible mother. Having met the Groom and his family last summer, I felt in some ways like it was my own kids getting married, except I get to be Auntie instead of Gramma...<br />
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These two could not wait to put on their beautiful rings!<br />
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The sand ceremony...<br />
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Some Signing of the Important Things....<br />
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Some smootchy smootchy...<br />
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And voila! Mr. & Mrs!<br />
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Because it was cold and a bit rainy outside, I ran through family pictures like a drill sergeant.<br />
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I'm not sure if they're just used to being in police line-ups or something, but I had to keep telling everyone to take a few steps away from the wall and towards me...</div>
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The Bride is SUPER close to her Gramma, and calls her every day. I adore her, too, and was really excited to catch up with her!<br />
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The bride with her older brother, little sister, and little brother (my birthday twin!)</div>
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Sharp looking couple there!<br />
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I wasn't sure I would be able to get any serious pictures of the Groom's family, given that the Groom is playful and silly pretty much 24-7, but to be perfectly honest if there wasn't a pile of goofy pictures i'd think he was feeling ill.<br />
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Aren't they a beautiful family?!<br />
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The pretty little lady beside the bride (the one who sewed the bridal gown, yeah - that one) briefly joined the formals to get pictures of their families together. The two little girls front and centre? They're BFFs like their Moms.<br />
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While the family pictures took place against a sheltered overhang to protect everyone from getting rained on, the PPIR coordinator Dana scouted out a few locations for us to shoot.<br />
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She threw open the doors on the neighbouring garage, which was perfect since the rain just Would. Not. Stop.<br />
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The bridal party agreed to brave the sprinkles and wind for a quick photo in front of the grandstand before I ran away with the newlyweds.<br />
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I'm not big into racing, but apparently this car behind them is a fancy-schmancy dealie that's headed off to some big important race. It made a nice backdrop.</div>
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Just as we were finishing up, the sun decided to break through the clouds and cast some pretty golden light on these two.<br />
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Me: Put your foreheads together.<br />
Groom: She put make-up on me!<br />
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Me: whisper sweet nothings in her ear.<br />
Him: ******<br />
Her: OMG - how do you even think of something like that?<br />
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Me: Your turn.<br />
Her: *********<br />
Him: ~~~~~~~~<br />
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I admit, I photoshopped's Dana's golf cart out a lot, but it sure was handing having her around to help transport these two goofballs.<br />
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We were only about 3 minutes late for dinner, a beautiful spread of tiny ham-cheese sammiches and yummy chicken-salad croissants with fresh fruit, lemonade, and iced tea. I'd show you a picture of the tasty treats from <a href="https://www.rouxwk.com/" target="_blank">Mama Lisa's Roux World Kitchen</a>, but I think my second shooter was too busy socializing with the locals to take a photo before it got devoured.</div>
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Mostly, I like to be ignored while shooting, Otherwise, I get stink-eye like this:<br />
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Unlike servers, who I swear wait until you take a bite before they show up at your table to ask how everything is, I don't tend to interrupt people during dinner - no one wants photos of their guests mid-chew - so we rejoin the wedding shortly after the DJ announced that there were several special kisses in the Hugs and Kisses from the Mr & Mrs boxes.<br />
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Gramma got to do a shot with the Bride.<br />
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And the Groom's son (who managed to get his hands on a purple kiss from some weird Canadian lady) got to do a "shot" with his dad. I think that whatever sugar-laden carbonated drink they pounded back was probably worse than whatever they would have picked for me...<br />
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Then it was snack time for VN before speeches.<br />
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The Bride's brother started with "I didn't prepare a speech so you know this is going to come straight from the heart" and ended up making us all cry.<br />
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Then her Dad got up there and made himself cry... and someone must have been cutting onions nearby because I was tearing up, too.<br />
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"Who makes these speeches so emotional?" he asked.<br />
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So the Bride's little sister offered to finish and Dad's speech made HER cry, too.<br />
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"My Dad broke my sister!" the Bride said, but he kind of broke us all.<br />
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The Groom's mom came up to say a few words, too, which we managed to get through without more waterworks. ~phewf~<br />
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Groom's sister to Bride: are you gonna put it in his face?</div>
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Bride to Groom: hold my fork...<br />
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This is the Bride's uncle and his wife. They were recently in Netherbitlandia and I asked if he'd bring me some salted liquorice. I was thinking a small bag. He brought me a grocery bag full of six different kinds. I am still working my way through them. So delicious.<br />
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Sidebar: Tyler took my daughter and I a) to the doctor and b) for a tour of the Seattle library when we were passing through on our way to Singapore a couple of years ago. I advise against needing a doctor, and highly recommend visiting the library.<br />
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I had forgotten to get photos of Gramma and Grampa B. during formals so I snuck them outside before the dances started.<br />
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These two dancing. All the love.<br />
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Until she got her eyelash ripped off...<br />
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SR got her own special song. I'm going to sing the first line for you. </div>
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Baby shark do do do do do do</div>
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You're welcome.</div>
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With festivities well underway indoors, I ventured outside to get a few photos of the venue and ongoing track events.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_C3JFMrknbQQniyza6JSkI6vylhPyR2dmaQKOfcZsmD4Z_FFChQx3C8xl1eoKBKHv3Wtt6tSTnkwCba9xPeaR_7ffPkRd3li8FI_UVUPsAcN0Uu-G0konkoFdM3tabM4E4MFeWotMQx3r/s1600/2019-06-30_0069.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1074" data-original-width="1600" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_C3JFMrknbQQniyza6JSkI6vylhPyR2dmaQKOfcZsmD4Z_FFChQx3C8xl1eoKBKHv3Wtt6tSTnkwCba9xPeaR_7ffPkRd3li8FI_UVUPsAcN0Uu-G0konkoFdM3tabM4E4MFeWotMQx3r/s640/2019-06-30_0069.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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As I rounded the corner, I looked up and saw these two. While this is the Bride and Groom's first day together as Mr and Mrs, it is these two ladies' last time together - the Bride's BFF had to leave early as her family was moving across the country the morning after the wedding. It was such a bittersweet day for them both. I know all too well what it feels like when your BFF lives too far away to pop in for coffee three times a week, and my heart was broken for these two (especially when I learned the next morning that the BFF's son had gotten into the Coffee Crisp I had brought her from Canadaland... and had eaten all of them...)<br />
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The dance party was in full swing by the time I got back upstairs.</div>
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I had offered to grab a nice photo of the Groom's sister and her boyfriend earlier in the night but we quickly lost track of time so I stuck them under a pot light in the side room, used a 50mm at f2.0 and boom - a very nice portrait of two very nice people!</div>
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In case you're wondering about the crazy lighting, that's courtesy of <a href="http://www.hepsdj.com/" target="_blank">HEPS DJ</a> - no flash for this rainbow party!!! (He also set up the fancy light on the cake stand and the light pillars - it was super techy and super dorky and I super loved it!)</div>
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I barely saw my birthday twin all night - he was either dancing or chasing kids around all night. I'd bump into him in the kitchen where he would be huffing and puffing and hiding until he could catch his breath and go another 20 laps around the room. He did stop long enough to get his Gangnan Style on with his sisters and niece though!<br />
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There was one last picture I needed to get before calling it a night...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy8NvLF_6vNcF1tRqiYDmuBVqo2aknn0IlhTSKcMmnrZUzolGEqo8I5wBouhwMj5tHAYVZerouwy1rzBw-I0N-l9N7REWFw5rClFWPLQ8WesQSECJ5zjiHieHW1bWW5lkueODYl5kryFxC/s1600/2019-06-30_0068.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1416" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy8NvLF_6vNcF1tRqiYDmuBVqo2aknn0IlhTSKcMmnrZUzolGEqo8I5wBouhwMj5tHAYVZerouwy1rzBw-I0N-l9N7REWFw5rClFWPLQ8WesQSECJ5zjiHieHW1bWW5lkueODYl5kryFxC/s640/2019-06-30_0068.jpg" width="566" /></a></div>
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The newlyweds headed out with the Groom's Mom, the Belgian sisters, and the one remaining groomsman while my hubby and I took the girls back to the house with us. While they gambled and talked about putting hot peppers in inappropriate places and stayed up late drinking, my hubby and I gratefully curled up with a pair of beautiful snoring babies.</div>
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To the families, thank you so much for opening your hearts and your homes (but maybe not your liquor cabinets) and letting us be a part of this special day. It was wonderful reconnecting with those I already knew, and equally wonderful getting to know those I didn't. We are blessed to have such wonderful friends who are wiling to share their family with us - muchLOVE you all!!!</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8632340673162795250.post-37407049828756611452019-06-26T19:44:00.000-06:002019-06-26T19:44:05.650-06:00Rub a Dub Dub!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
A couple of days after the wedding I shot at Pike's Peak International Raceway, Mom asked if we could sneak in a milk bath shoot for her youngest. And so, on a chilly afternoon in a patch of weeds beside the house, we snuck in a super-fast session for Miss VN. </div>
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It was touch-and-go with the weather - we had just been chased off the lake by thunder storms - but as is the case in the Edmonton, the saying in the Colorado Rockies is, "If you don't like the weather, wait a minute..." Lucky for us, in spite of the humidity and breeze and the fat black clouds looming on the horizon, Miss VN loves water a whole lot and warmed up to everything except the darn flowers floating in her tub...</div>
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Please enjoy the many faces of VN.</div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8632340673162795250.post-20275993287849776642019-06-13T01:53:00.000-06:002019-07-07T01:54:52.103-06:00From the airport to the castle... stat!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
When Bill and I went to Colorado in June, my friend (the bride at <a href="https://hopewallsphotography.blogspot.com/2019/06/we-took-babies-home-with-us-after.html" target="_blank">this wedding</a>) couldn't be in two places at one time, so while she was getting errands done, her BFF picked us up, since her hubby's plane was landing about an hour before ours. I figured in exchange for the lift from the airport, we would sneak in a quick family shoot... and then they show up in coordinating outfits and looking like a million bucks and we end up going to a the <a href="https://gleneyrie.org/" target="_blank">Glen Eyrie Castle</a> near the <a href="https://gardenofgods.com/" target="_blank">Garden of the Gods</a>... ermagerd... HEAVEN!!! It ended up being a SUPER quick session and we ran back to our cars in pelting rain, but I am super happy we got even a few minutes to snap these. Thank you, A & R, for picking us up and letting me point a camera at your gorgeous kids (and selves!)</div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8632340673162795250.post-65448181947870618632019-06-12T01:23:00.000-06:002019-07-07T01:24:46.159-06:00Post-Grad Cross Canada Train Ride!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This is A. A has decided to take advantage of the <a href="https://www.viarail.ca/en/fares-and-packages/rail-passes/summer-pass" target="_blank">Via Rail youth summer pass</a> and celebrate Grad with a handful of adventures. I gotta admit - I'm a little jealous! Congratulations, A (and Mom) and best wishes for the summer and beyond!</div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8632340673162795250.post-61385313628492624832019-06-09T02:18:00.000-06:002019-07-07T02:18:49.978-06:00Three Sisters and Three Sisters at Three SistersWhen my stepdaughter asked if I would sew her grad dress, I was over the moon. Colour: red. Materials: tulle over satin. Style: similar to a white dress worn by Jennifer Lawrence, but with a small train, and pockets...<br />
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My stepdaughter has two biological sisters - one on her Dad's side (my daughter), the other on her Mom's side, and two sisters from different misters (her BFFs) with whom she has grown up with since elementary. They are members of what my husband and I call the "spare" kids because for over a decade they have had us cheering them on from the side of the soccer field, have shown up at meals unannounced, and have called us at 2am when they have missed the last bus and were too scared to call their own moms.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBfCyNrbVe3Hk_h2UXPU4GX8-7N-6ptmBzbHckFG3ie8HV8sCYuHF1QtJ5YlLwW8N5kS9jd_XG6cOUnqJXgJZ7_U0d_vm8C3AdTtDg88ijaFYRFqyCu9GvhrsHUIf1t4RAKV6gccDhuzA/s1600/57634583686__40CB4EAD-AFB2-4ABD-815A-CBEF8CFB6714.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBfCyNrbVe3Hk_h2UXPU4GX8-7N-6ptmBzbHckFG3ie8HV8sCYuHF1QtJ5YlLwW8N5kS9jd_XG6cOUnqJXgJZ7_U0d_vm8C3AdTtDg88ijaFYRFqyCu9GvhrsHUIf1t4RAKV6gccDhuzA/s200/57634583686__40CB4EAD-AFB2-4ABD-815A-CBEF8CFB6714.JPG" width="150" /></a> I made my stepdaughter's dress by making a fake version before cutting into the $30/m satin she chose. Once it was fitted, I hand-basted layers and layers of tulle over the bodice and decided that at grad she needed to be able to say, "Here, hold my cape..." if someone asked her to do something sketchy. One of the spare kids sewed her pastel pink satin dress (with pockets) with her Gramma's help. The other spare kid texted me in mid-May that she had found a forest-green dress that she loved and it was 2 sizes too big <i>but it had pockets and if she bought it RIGHT NOW it was 20% off!!!</i> I told her to go ahead, and I'd make it work for her. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyIoNvm9HkF0MseqDftG8asvyKmKDtS2AOwS5ts0eZ4nRFoBpkMTvmGuOJaEYMRVQ9AbI_E25oBcXGeOwOqEI5nWW99tiGyMjEUDf45mHtn1OocVO_MQC9JqyyQYHNoBQ4zZNYNdHzfno/s1600/57880754994__F5F7FE93-37C4-4521-BFED-1684243BA90B.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyIoNvm9HkF0MseqDftG8asvyKmKDtS2AOwS5ts0eZ4nRFoBpkMTvmGuOJaEYMRVQ9AbI_E25oBcXGeOwOqEI5nWW99tiGyMjEUDf45mHtn1OocVO_MQC9JqyyQYHNoBQ4zZNYNdHzfno/s200/57880754994__F5F7FE93-37C4-4521-BFED-1684243BA90B.JPG" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGubJ1mHs-mht81RS4ugcNBaLiNHlXecdobmAX_15UHWK-WboTew7iFjK21QuYcQodrUBbgWZ_LU12Vn8ecKUoJjPrZ_7Gol8Jfjo1gbCCA0_CLkFubdQwbXFsTcTKkwychnZpyfuErAU/s1600/IMG_2826.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGubJ1mHs-mht81RS4ugcNBaLiNHlXecdobmAX_15UHWK-WboTew7iFjK21QuYcQodrUBbgWZ_LU12Vn8ecKUoJjPrZ_7Gol8Jfjo1gbCCA0_CLkFubdQwbXFsTcTKkwychnZpyfuErAU/s200/IMG_2826.JPG" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiGa51mq4FvvNtoNr-TepaFaAF3nhQo1GYC8XKrZv_JhjagYqU-QrvItFhfORNlml-QTM4YVgmpSV3KKAxdCnrCyP3Vtw9EIPSiOxdCCQhRNtRObjIOtyNbkL6mGQYtyl0ZEjfmwp_5dg/s1600/58008148407__56EB5510-53A5-4A29-898F-02E47D15D164.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiGa51mq4FvvNtoNr-TepaFaAF3nhQo1GYC8XKrZv_JhjagYqU-QrvItFhfORNlml-QTM4YVgmpSV3KKAxdCnrCyP3Vtw9EIPSiOxdCCQhRNtRObjIOtyNbkL6mGQYtyl0ZEjfmwp_5dg/s200/58008148407__56EB5510-53A5-4A29-898F-02E47D15D164.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>
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Months were spent sewing, clipping, sizing, pinning, and (in general) freaking out about these dresses. As the date drew near and plans for our photo shoot started firming up, the assumption was always that we would just find a few picturesque spots in Canmore to shoot the dresses. But then, I was sitting at my computer reading drafts of an essay for a class a few weeks ago, and one paper mentioned the Three Sisters in Canmore. I thought, <i>How Perfect...</i> Which is how these two sets of pictures came to be:<br />
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Of course, no good deed goes unpunished - we were late leaving Edmonton, accidentally reserved (and paid for) two hotels, brought fruit that one kid was allergic to, and forgot things like hairbrushes and shoes...<br />
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But it really does take an entire village (or tribe, as my stepdaughter's Mom likes to say) to raise children. Enter my stepdaughter's Gramma C, who lives in Cochrane, but happened to be in Canmore shopping for pretty things to go in her planters while we were in Canmore. Not only did Gramma C bring snacks that wouldn't cause an anaphylactic reaction and hairbrushes do we could make the girls purty, but she went to a florist and grabbed some carnations and baby's breath to put in the girls' hair then rode along to help us find a meadow and the best vantage for shooting the three sisters from other misters and three bio-sisters with (of course) the Three Sisters in the background.<br />
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The bulk of the day was spent frolicking in the wilderness, me with camera in hand, my husband and Gramma C carrying umbrellas and extra shoes, the gaggle of girls with oysters at their feet accepting compliments and congratulations from hikers.<br />
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Ellen Cantarow is credited with saying: <i>“Making the decision to have a child – it's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body." </i>A truer quote has never been written. Even if I did not give birth to 80% of them, these girls are everything (everything) to me. I am so excited to see what the future holds for them.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8632340673162795250.post-68270562451265899062019-04-22T02:02:00.000-06:002019-07-25T21:32:03.109-06:00long weekends are for families<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
The first part of April was pretty hectic, so it was a real treat to take a trip to Jasper with my youngest and my eldest to visit my middle child. Of course I grabbed a spare kid (because, why not?) and went for some long bike rides and short walks and warm drinks at the Lodge plus some swims and climbs and fancy dinners.</div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8632340673162795250.post-76800504840136438532019-03-16T21:57:00.000-06:002019-04-13T21:57:30.862-06:00those who play together stay together<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This is N. He proposed to J on a rink this time last year, and they're getting married this summer, so we were lucky we were able to sneak in a skating session before the snow all started to melt.</div>
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We started off in the bulbous snowy remnants of the various winter festivities held in Hawrelak Park.<br />
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If I had to pick one word for their relationship it would be "playful."<br />
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These two had each other (and me!) laughing and smiling the whole time we were together.<br />
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Skating holds a special place in these guys' life. J asked N to teach her how to skate, and they both too it very seriously, right down to this epic glittery golden skull bucket that J wore until she got stable enough to go without.<br />
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J is (obviously) fine without a helmet now...<br />
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J can do a hockey-style stop, go backwards, and manage an awkward dance step or two. But she has her limits, including not being too keen on crack-the-whip and two-man spins.<br />
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This ridiculous game of peek-a-boo was actually a failed attempt at a two-man spin.<br />
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(I bet you're smiling right now.... I know I am!)<br />
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For posterity's sake, J decided to pull on her jersey and helmet for a couple of laps around the pond.<br />
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I can tell already that their wedding is going to be filled with laughter and joy, much like what they give to and bring out in one another.<br />
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See you in the summer!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8632340673162795250.post-32333004672871906492019-02-28T21:05:00.000-07:002019-04-13T21:05:57.744-06:00Vegas, baby!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
So way back in August we had the pleasure of hanging out with <a href="https://hopewallsphotography.blogspot.com/2019/04/she-calls-me-hoke.html" target="_blank">this beautiful couple (and their kids)</a> in Colorado. </div>
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<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />For E's birthday and to celebrate their engagement, my husband and I met up with them in Vegas for a few days of debauchery, regrettable tattoos, and a trek into the desert to see the Hoover Dam and the Valley of Fire.<br />
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The debauchery kicked into high gear just minutes after this photo was taken with Binion's Millions, as I had successfully downed a Green Apple 4-loko near Fremont and was halfway into a second by the time E found a stranger on the street to kick in the nuts...<br />
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Somehow my husband, E, and K managed to walk me to a late-night buffet so I could get my bearings back enough to watch the show at the Bellagio...<br />
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... and despite the late nights and madness...<br />
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We did manage to successfully pick up a rental car, retrieve a lost cell phone, and make it to the desert in time for me to take plenty of engagement-type photos of these two.<br />
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Poor E was walking with me when we crested the hill and I got to see the vista of white and orange striped hills. I quite literally wept, it was so beautiful, and I don't know if me (or my liver) need to visit the strip in Vegas ever again, but I definitely need to go hike Nevada.<br />
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We finished up the night by scratching off another bucket-list item - a visit to the Neon Boneyard.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqdx7PYrPGXD8Wx9EQkJ02n8bgw8zPkjS69Z3A49W9B66R7i9ZLFqfU3VZ6mld-3DvKKt83LReA68HkSOu6ki5zeB_vB-7KOd1Fhk7YohvbE7oqu748uJSrMXMQbXsI1HM9ZZ8JsKQh1yP/s1600/2019-04-12_0023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1292" data-original-width="1600" height="512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqdx7PYrPGXD8Wx9EQkJ02n8bgw8zPkjS69Z3A49W9B66R7i9ZLFqfU3VZ6mld-3DvKKt83LReA68HkSOu6ki5zeB_vB-7KOd1Fhk7YohvbE7oqu748uJSrMXMQbXsI1HM9ZZ8JsKQh1yP/s640/2019-04-12_0023.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Now, to plan and prep for the wedding in June! Tell Miss S that Hoke is on the way!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8632340673162795250.post-34961693124734557352018-12-30T23:10:00.001-07:002019-04-13T18:16:35.028-06:00the official 2019 pictureLOVE passion project<span style="font-family: inherit;">So, I've been really terrible at keeping the blog updated regularly, and I won't make any promises about when the 2nd half of 2018 will make it online... BUT...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am really excited to start a Passion Project, inspired by a delicious viral post made by a woman named <a href="https://www.facebook.com/kim.marxkuczynski?__tn__=%2Cd*F*F-R&eid=ARD_a1JANrDLmXtBCPgmkArUI8WSIwstyJ0T6ZOtyID-nTGaejo-FHRBgX6UGbtoCiPnqsESX3m598VR&tn-str=*F" target="_blank">Kim Marx-Kuczynski</a> who found a 1958 McCall's magazine with an article entitled "129 WAYS TO GET A HUSBAND" featured on the cover. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmR20UteYSiJ-cQPDRS0RYyMme1jfL_o1fPI54dPjSpfDvtcgRqgX1tJRCUJqTjfZQy971EAMGFfrY63Q31bKcTpHvP9JeHzlsccT5DMD0nxDNnkngPbnWckI0qezWVk38ke71NKmfVQb6/s1600/Screen-Shot-2018-11-07-at-3.56.55-PM-768x1009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1009" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmR20UteYSiJ-cQPDRS0RYyMme1jfL_o1fPI54dPjSpfDvtcgRqgX1tJRCUJqTjfZQy971EAMGFfrY63Q31bKcTpHvP9JeHzlsccT5DMD0nxDNnkngPbnWckI0qezWVk38ke71NKmfVQb6/s320/Screen-Shot-2018-11-07-at-3.56.55-PM-768x1009.jpg" width="243" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The TLDR version of the story is, 16 "experts" got together to determine things your average girl could do to trap a man... and voila... the possibilities are ENDLESS on how these tips can be gender-bent, meme-ified, and immortalized in a series of sensational photos.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">If you think you (or someone you know) would enjoy taking on one of the photos ops listed below, please send me an <a href="mailto:picturelove.ca@gmail.com" target="_blank">email</a> or add me on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/hope.walls.is.awesome.also.unicorns.are.awesome" target="_blank">Facebook</a>, and we will collaborate to develop and shoot the concepts until I have a complete set of 129 images that truly embody the spirit of these 129 ideas, in a 2019 way. You do NOT have to be single, hetero, or sane to participate. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Who's in?</span></div>
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1. Get a dog and walk it.<br />
2. Have your car break down at strategic places.<br />
3. Attend night school – take courses men like.<br />
4. Join a hiking club.<br />
5. Look in the census reports for places with the most single men. Nevada has 125 males for every 100 females.<br />
6. Read the obituaries to find eligible widowers.<br />
7. Take up golf and go to different golf courses.<br />
8. Take several short vacations at different places rather than one long one at one place.<br />
9. Sit on a park bench and feed the pigeons.<br />
10. Take a bicycle trip through Europe.<br />
11. Get a job in a medical, dental or law school.<br />
12. Become a nurse or airline stewardess – they have very high marriage rates.<br />
13. Ask your friends’ husbands who the eligible men are in their offices.<br />
14. Be nice to everybody – they may have an eligible brother or son.<br />
15. Get a government job overseas.<br />
16. Volunteer for jury duty.<br />
17. Be friendly to ugly men – handsome is as handsome does.<br />
18. Tell your friends that you are interested in getting married. Don’t keep it a secret.<br />
19. Get lost at football games.<br />
20. Don’t take a job in a company run largely by women.<br />
21. Get a job demonstrating fishing tackle in a sporting goods store.<br />
22. On a plane, train or bus don’t sit next to a woman – sit next to a man.<br />
23. Go to all reunions of your high school or college class. There may be widowers there.<br />
24. Don’t be afraid to associate with more attractive girls; they may have some leftovers.<br />
25. Go back to your hometown for a visit – the wild kid next door may have become a very eligible bachelor while you were away.<br />
26. Don’t room with a girl who is a sad sack and let her pull you down to her level.<br />
27. Get a part-time job in a convention bureau.<br />
28. Change apartments from time to time.<br />
29. When traveling, stay at small hotels where it is easier to meet strangers.<br />
30. Learn to paint. Set up easel outside engineering school.<br />
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HOW TO LET HIM KNOW YOU’RE THERE<br />
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31. Stumble when you walk into a room that he’s in.<br />
32. Forget discretion every once in a while and call him up.<br />
33. Carry a hatbox.<br />
34. Wear a Band-Aid. People always ask what happened.<br />
35. Make a lot of money.<br />
36. Learn several funny stories and learn to tell them well – but make sure you don’t tell them to him more than once.<br />
37. Walk up to him and tell him you need some advice.<br />
38. Dropping the handkerchief still works.<br />
39. Have your father buy some theater tickets that have to be got rid of.<br />
40. Stand in a corner and cry softly. Chances are good that he’ll come over to find out what’s wrong.<br />
41. Don’t let him fish for your name the next time you meet. None of this “guess who” stuff.<br />
42. If you’re at a resort, have the bell-boy page you.<br />
43. Buy a convertible. Men like to ride in them.<br />
44. Learn how to bake tasty apple pies. Bring one in to the office and let the eligible bachelors taste it.<br />
45. Laugh at his jokes.<br />
46. If there’s a wallflower among the men you know, why not cultivate him? For all you know, he may be a diamond in the rough.<br />
47. “Accidentally” have your purse fly open, scattering its contents all over the street.<br />
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HOW TO LOOK GOOD TO HIM<br />
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48. Men like to think they’re the authorities on perfume. Ask his advice on what kind you should wear.<br />
49. Get better-looking glasses – men still make passes at girls who wear glasses – or try contact lenses.<br />
50. Practice your drinking with your women friends first.<br />
51. If you dye your hair, pick a shade and stick to it.<br />
52. Wear high heels most of the time – they’re sexier!<br />
53. Unless he happens to be shorter than you are!<br />
54. Tell him he’s handsome.<br />
55. Take good care of your health. Men don’t like girls who are ill.<br />
56. If you look good in sweaters, wear one on every third date.<br />
57. Dress differently from the other girls in the office.<br />
58. Get a sunburn.<br />
59. Watch your vocabulary.<br />
60. Go on a diet if you need to.<br />
61. When you are with him, order your steak rare.<br />
62. Don’t tell him about your allergies.<br />
63. European women use their eyes to good advantage. Practice in front of a mirror.<br />
64. Buy a full-length mirror and take a good look before you go to greet him.<br />
65. Change the shade of your stockings and be sure to keep the seams straight!<br />
66. Get that fresh-scrubbed look by scrubbing!<br />
67. If he has bought you any trinket or accessory, wear it.<br />
68. Use the ashtray; don’t crush out cigarettes in coffee cups!<br />
69. Polish up on making introductions; learn to do them gracefully.<br />
70. Don’t be too fussy.<br />
71. Stick to your moral standards.<br />
72. Don’t whine – girls who whine stay on the vine!<br />
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HOW TO LAND HIM<br />
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73. Show him you can have fun on a cheap date – but don’t overdo it!<br />
74. Don’t let your parents treat him like a potential husband.<br />
75. Ask your parents to disappear when you’re entertaining!<br />
76. Double-date with a gay, happily married couple – let him see what it’s like!<br />
77. Tell his friends nice things about him.<br />
78. Send his mother a birthday card.<br />
79. Ask his mother for her recipes.<br />
80. Talk to his father about business and agree that taxes are too high!<br />
81. Buy his sister’s children an occasional present.<br />
82. On the first date tell him you aren’t thinking of getting married!<br />
83. Don’t talk about how many children you want.<br />
84. If he’s a fisherman, learn to scale and clean fish.<br />
85. Don’t tell him everything about yourself at the start. Hold something in reserve.<br />
86. When you’re out strolling with him, don’t insist on stopping at every shop window.<br />
87. Don’t tell him how much your clothes cost.<br />
88. Learn to sew and wear something you have made yourself.<br />
89. Don’t gossip about him.<br />
90. Never let him know he’s the only one, even if you have to stay home one or two nights a week!<br />
91. Don’t be a pushover when he’s trying to make a date.<br />
92. Very early in your dating, why not get a favorite song that you both regard as your own?<br />
93. Find out about the girls he hasn’t married. Don’t repeat the mistakes they made.<br />
94. Don’t discuss your former boyfriends.<br />
95. If you are widowed or divorced, don’t constantly discuss your former husband.<br />
96. Be flexible. If he decides to skip the dance and go rowing on the lake, go – even if you are wearing your best evening gown.<br />
97. Hide your Phi Beta Kappa key if you own one – later on junior can play with it.<br />
98. Turn wolves into husband material by assuming they have honor.<br />
99. Resist the urge to make him over – before marriage, that is!<br />
100. Learn where to draw the line – but do it gracefully.<br />
101. Remain innocent but not ignorant.<br />
102. Make your home comfortable when he calls – large ashtrays, comfortable chairs.<br />
103. Learn to play poker.<br />
104. If he’s rich, tell him you like his money – the honesty will intrigue him!<br />
105. Never let him believe your career is more important to him than marriage.<br />
106. Buy him an amusing or particularly appropriate present everyone once in a while. But don’t make it too expensive.<br />
107. Clip and mail him a funny cartoon that means something to both of you.<br />
108. Don’t tell dirty stories.<br />
109. Stop being a mama’s girl – don’t let him think he’ll have in-law trouble, even if you know he will!<br />
110. Point out to him that the death rate of single men is twice that of married men.<br />
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WILD IDEAS – ANYTHING GOES<br />
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111. Go to Yale.<br />
112. Get a hunting license.<br />
113. If your mother is fat, tell him you take after your father. If he’s fat too, tell him you’re adopted!<br />
114. Stow away on a battleship.<br />
115. Rent a billboard and post your picture and telephone number on it.<br />
116. Paint your name and number on your roof and say, “Give me a buzz, pilots.”<br />
117. Start a whispering campaign on how sought-after you are.<br />
118. Sink at a fashionable beach at high noon!<br />
119. Ride the airport bus back and forth from the airport.<br />
120. Bribe Ferris-wheel operator to get you stuck on the top of a Ferris wheel.<br />
121. Stand on a busy street corner with a lasso.<br />
122. Carry a camera and ask strange, handsome men if they would mind snapping your picture.<br />
123. Ask your mother to take in male borders.<br />
124. Make and sell toupees – bald men are easy catches!<br />
125. Advertise for male co-owner of a boat.<br />
126. If you see a man with a flat, offer to fix it.<br />
127. Carry a tow chain in the trunk of your automobile.<br />
128. Let it be known in your office that you have a button box and will sew on bachelors’ loose buttons.<br />
129. Don’t marry him if he has too many loose buttons!</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8632340673162795250.post-45053674929781738802018-12-21T19:17:00.000-07:002019-04-13T21:11:38.593-06:00just a little bit nervous...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Just a sweet little session for some sweet little munchkins with Mom's sweet new tattoo...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho3YahMm26d6gtktADb858dZ1Q-NSrN7WEMc_yAZgXwcHmVtoLNkZ-cNz7LL8M5xGWH3mW3RWpJ1IlBRRcWUso0PwM4Om9A0fe91a1tHbh9UH00Nv0pmpiyJpxjkzRcRxuOwhKcV0eKERT/s1600/2019-04-13_0016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1565" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho3YahMm26d6gtktADb858dZ1Q-NSrN7WEMc_yAZgXwcHmVtoLNkZ-cNz7LL8M5xGWH3mW3RWpJ1IlBRRcWUso0PwM4Om9A0fe91a1tHbh9UH00Nv0pmpiyJpxjkzRcRxuOwhKcV0eKERT/s640/2019-04-13_0016.jpg" width="624" /></a></div>
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(and their parents...)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs1ZFFl_Bp-8pDD-EMAvb2yFbA4XhTuhWOvc4VRPmfxT5foCKpplY2VVAAtg_03yWH5PibomKRDDrS5lNTXT_AO86AJn5QKgfWPCEIoxb81Tu2mDperBmE1IKYcnj1dfYbvxVoo31aFanh/s1600/2019-04-13_0017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1327" data-original-width="1600" height="530" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs1ZFFl_Bp-8pDD-EMAvb2yFbA4XhTuhWOvc4VRPmfxT5foCKpplY2VVAAtg_03yWH5PibomKRDDrS5lNTXT_AO86AJn5QKgfWPCEIoxb81Tu2mDperBmE1IKYcnj1dfYbvxVoo31aFanh/s640/2019-04-13_0017.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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PS Beautiful tattoo, momma!!!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8632340673162795250.post-13766334304672982032018-12-21T19:11:00.000-07:002019-04-13T19:14:57.750-06:00jump!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I think D is addicted to family portraits. Which is OK, because she's pretty darn awesome and so are her kids!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigruGL8lM8pAAsqSCeN302da4N4Hcvj4TlNJ5hAKbrOHlUehFEBHCl02SofK_8Qk6wDu32icvJ-WUyqzbrKv7rg2P_1ctBvCrw62DzLx9BypbKz-8sR0LJfdJ2UqRwAwaTUV64Z8jIuWf_/s1600/2019-04-13_0012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1457" data-original-width="1600" height="580" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigruGL8lM8pAAsqSCeN302da4N4Hcvj4TlNJ5hAKbrOHlUehFEBHCl02SofK_8Qk6wDu32icvJ-WUyqzbrKv7rg2P_1ctBvCrw62DzLx9BypbKz-8sR0LJfdJ2UqRwAwaTUV64Z8jIuWf_/s640/2019-04-13_0012.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I've watched these boys grow for well over a decade now and the little one is about *this* close to being taller than me, too.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Rl_9B-X0KH5N53MWLsaUDW8PLy09-tvhWkfFyhSZ_EUCHKUUEuByZ5NGyFS6nJQXYo8b5MfJ1Wt33nX7QvPAE8dLpLaEWDZIg-iGy4bCQYobPvCfW_iCv-uqX1IsSsNLxGIJVapVcU1i/s1600/2019-04-13_0013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1092" data-original-width="1600" height="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Rl_9B-X0KH5N53MWLsaUDW8PLy09-tvhWkfFyhSZ_EUCHKUUEuByZ5NGyFS6nJQXYo8b5MfJ1Wt33nX7QvPAE8dLpLaEWDZIg-iGy4bCQYobPvCfW_iCv-uqX1IsSsNLxGIJVapVcU1i/s640/2019-04-13_0013.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I am pretty sure these young men think their mother is trying to torture them, especially when she asks for things like this über-cheesy but delightfully awkward jump picture.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhnFDYFz_ERtFqRVeQjV62lpHyyYvLL2UmcUPy4nOTXBKhCALdgVaWFdFMt-v8h-oVr1asoQ2CX4TvIuAyimz26DuTFY95q4mnUrB26zFFSPMdWm_1OMOHjt4m1kmP2PZZViXBr6wIz238/s1600/2019-04-13_0014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1197" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhnFDYFz_ERtFqRVeQjV62lpHyyYvLL2UmcUPy4nOTXBKhCALdgVaWFdFMt-v8h-oVr1asoQ2CX4TvIuAyimz26DuTFY95q4mnUrB26zFFSPMdWm_1OMOHjt4m1kmP2PZZViXBr6wIz238/s640/2019-04-13_0014.jpg" width="472" /></a><br />
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Love this lady to bits and pieces...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXjJb4mSFZuZw4OaWCk_S1WKII-mliXCezacM9YVGNUZ_n_TthEc_paOKnQB-TBB5QyGrpkaxDqbG-LlcKCF6_ygJ0RBK3tAITa8Aqsm0h0ES8Z1c1-cD7Pt9vLl321eMX0ulDeoxoIr_a/s1600/2019-04-13_0015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1074" data-original-width="1600" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXjJb4mSFZuZw4OaWCk_S1WKII-mliXCezacM9YVGNUZ_n_TthEc_paOKnQB-TBB5QyGrpkaxDqbG-LlcKCF6_ygJ0RBK3tAITa8Aqsm0h0ES8Z1c1-cD7Pt9vLl321eMX0ulDeoxoIr_a/s640/2019-04-13_0015.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Thanks for the non-fat latte!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8632340673162795250.post-65382158419614385682018-12-15T19:22:00.000-07:002019-04-13T19:22:49.314-06:00ho ho ho! ha ha ha!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
One of my oldest friends (and by oldest I mean that literally) is Dad to these two sweethearts.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtIAlFAiKUVybJsyCjtZjxcSBgTrA4BOHkGV4roPWg7UiQ5hGDDGWsaAjSES2bgU3jdEPR6Pmn-OoxVT7M2nb2cV3FJHjgLBaOvB54pwd-eJDhx9EZ4gfhG7cZmQuveELo1ZNzsgZvjq3u/s1600/2019-04-13_0018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1480" data-original-width="1600" height="590" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtIAlFAiKUVybJsyCjtZjxcSBgTrA4BOHkGV4roPWg7UiQ5hGDDGWsaAjSES2bgU3jdEPR6Pmn-OoxVT7M2nb2cV3FJHjgLBaOvB54pwd-eJDhx9EZ4gfhG7cZmQuveELo1ZNzsgZvjq3u/s640/2019-04-13_0018.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Dad thinks he's pretty funny. (Technically, he is, but we won't tell him or it'll go to his head.)<br />
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What a beautiful little family!<br />
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These guys love each other, I love them...<br />
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And their kids love me, which makes it even more awesome when they come to visit and get me on the front side of the lens.<br />
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Happy holidays, guys!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8632340673162795250.post-1853511887239851992018-12-14T19:26:00.000-07:002019-04-13T19:26:58.647-06:00so much to say<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I could say a lot about these, but the pictures of these two sister-in-laws and the gaggle of cousins kind of speak for themselves, no?</div>
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(I can't believe they actually let me pose them like a bad 70s holiday photo haha!!!)<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8632340673162795250.post-51933691525298388092018-10-21T20:08:00.000-06:002019-04-13T20:13:11.395-06:00Happy Thanksgiving!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I got a VERY last-minute call to come out on Thanksgiving day and do an extended family session for this beautiful crowd. I especially loved Gramma's epic green quilted skirt, which allegedly comes out at Thanksgiving each and every year, and has since it was made in the 70s!</div>
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We managed to snap quick family portraits of each of her children, but clearly the grandchildren stole the spotlight.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi04EKDC1R7f7rcur0IVnflYLOlEJL-StQs7nXSlB_F7egWCAOjint-RFIT1ckZMPsCutWeJoZHI5mr09BUPSV9wvaL0qVY-ym58Nu9HJ2Fc3GFfYo3wn8fUbElz6gaZLrgfyE4MKoHoJGQ/s1600/2019-04-13_0063.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1223" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi04EKDC1R7f7rcur0IVnflYLOlEJL-StQs7nXSlB_F7egWCAOjint-RFIT1ckZMPsCutWeJoZHI5mr09BUPSV9wvaL0qVY-ym58Nu9HJ2Fc3GFfYo3wn8fUbElz6gaZLrgfyE4MKoHoJGQ/s640/2019-04-13_0063.jpg" width="488" /></a></div>
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I am so glad I was able to sneak over while my Turkey was roasting to help these guys out because, well - you know me... I am always up for a good toddler fix!</div>
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Happy Thanksgiving!</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8632340673162795250.post-26668763176125866912018-10-07T19:27:00.000-06:002019-04-30T11:03:55.009-06:00the family ranch<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Welcome to the S Bar Ranch.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihu1ua9Td4PeR_53ZdovQwo1NTKA2zQXSvw3BIOXqX_ZVfWCFjp08hEE92jRk9n4PCCP9bt_-Efn4PrDXgoi7QmRQ28m9atmvFYNvyu3U_bPUBYa5n9rg-QS7bSEFWcPQtT4_qi-EjI7nu/s1600/2019-04-13_0033.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1073" data-original-width="1600" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihu1ua9Td4PeR_53ZdovQwo1NTKA2zQXSvw3BIOXqX_ZVfWCFjp08hEE92jRk9n4PCCP9bt_-Efn4PrDXgoi7QmRQ28m9atmvFYNvyu3U_bPUBYa5n9rg-QS7bSEFWcPQtT4_qi-EjI7nu/s640/2019-04-13_0033.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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It's hard to even know where to begin explaining this family and how much they mean to not just me but my husband and our kids. What began as an internet friendship between myself and this lady in a Mom's group has led to 10+ years of shared memories. We shall call her N.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy-82g14WNSWkEp-vpylbFljlKSR4GMPHCs8ZrBqasTErgkRVa-P0cgSLuwEPQZT_6BFVPHZZoUHEEjL6VCk7YEVXV95yj9vHmGB0U-t280IBmn41GhabYk72Xo-M8yD9cEIt-9QgVm_jr/s1600/2019-04-13_0058.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="744" data-original-width="1600" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy-82g14WNSWkEp-vpylbFljlKSR4GMPHCs8ZrBqasTErgkRVa-P0cgSLuwEPQZT_6BFVPHZZoUHEEjL6VCk7YEVXV95yj9vHmGB0U-t280IBmn41GhabYk72Xo-M8yD9cEIt-9QgVm_jr/s640/2019-04-13_0058.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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This pipsqueak (N's daughter) was a snotty drooling preschooler back then.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhexj5mapYVRcKRkROXvg3zpS0qQlzCsmpXquK1szjPme2fNChO4m_akRhTljzBqbK6sT_qdjHfzjy0GrL93gKwZNpBb1LVKOyWtmoi__tMHjGtr_ErQHMHI8Dpr9ymMhBPRtW-1U_h3cme/s1600/2019-04-13_0041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1305" data-original-width="1600" height="522" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhexj5mapYVRcKRkROXvg3zpS0qQlzCsmpXquK1szjPme2fNChO4m_akRhTljzBqbK6sT_qdjHfzjy0GrL93gKwZNpBb1LVKOyWtmoi__tMHjGtr_ErQHMHI8Dpr9ymMhBPRtW-1U_h3cme/s640/2019-04-13_0041.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfT2Ccg1TABgzMK9uwkgrHEosyEmdw6UcoPTRp6Qsmy9lo50hFGTNLYjCPI1B6e1Ct6wmR9LUeC03ny-N1co5Pbt4UYeTJ6iY0sQCCY6GGICut8-eLuw-Q_65jqxqRL4oC0Rpadr7EGug2/s1600/2019-04-13_0042.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1278" data-original-width="1600" height="510" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfT2Ccg1TABgzMK9uwkgrHEosyEmdw6UcoPTRp6Qsmy9lo50hFGTNLYjCPI1B6e1Ct6wmR9LUeC03ny-N1co5Pbt4UYeTJ6iY0sQCCY6GGICut8-eLuw-Q_65jqxqRL4oC0Rpadr7EGug2/s640/2019-04-13_0042.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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And although N was the first point of contact with this family, it was actually on a trip to the Dominican Republic with the couple below (we shall call them D & E) that the family adopted my husband and I. (This is the wedding that led to <a href="https://hopewallsphotography.blogspot.com/2018/09/magic-number-10.html" target="_blank">last month's proposal</a>, by the way...)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGdGSbhyphenhyphenkQhZvjxbk7EMhXSg_4euAcBVVib1PSL89WRTL-8je8H0n3ini8daDY3Y7iSmxjN3zJmSQMGuwAu5WWcpxXeF9RvMHHQpcaYUGnES_wVEjlLyZTmjyx0Yd_UIuSIMHPlpJuCzY2/s1600/2019-04-13_0036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1593" data-original-width="1600" height="632" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGdGSbhyphenhyphenkQhZvjxbk7EMhXSg_4euAcBVVib1PSL89WRTL-8je8H0n3ini8daDY3Y7iSmxjN3zJmSQMGuwAu5WWcpxXeF9RvMHHQpcaYUGnES_wVEjlLyZTmjyx0Yd_UIuSIMHPlpJuCzY2/s640/2019-04-13_0036.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Anyhow. N's daughter is now the eldest of 5 cousins.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU4H-5uOfwYr1HbK2KSt-PZMO_DquMfTpPTPh7Lfl1YYFUtu5s5AbWuz50PC0b89GzW3aDQW587sdq-Noy0ENKrf76LVfTXRFnOnpLgDYII53hTrcolcYTCSy5QqrqoJ7hiMMWdj4DMaPN/s1600/2019-04-13_0034.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1014" data-original-width="1600" height="404" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU4H-5uOfwYr1HbK2KSt-PZMO_DquMfTpPTPh7Lfl1YYFUtu5s5AbWuz50PC0b89GzW3aDQW587sdq-Noy0ENKrf76LVfTXRFnOnpLgDYII53hTrcolcYTCSy5QqrqoJ7hiMMWdj4DMaPN/s640/2019-04-13_0034.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu-f9X-KpXL8QMa7guPdMWF-bPTo0FK7kE6_rp2S7Nz4eyPZSmIBSNW_27MLR-wTmGyQVwexQQAfmNaeAk41cKFaWAvcxW5X620OdsGBd3bG0qfyyOV2dqI23hXB6FF97Pxr97hoWmCTLF/s1600/2019-04-13_0035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1494" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu-f9X-KpXL8QMa7guPdMWF-bPTo0FK7kE6_rp2S7Nz4eyPZSmIBSNW_27MLR-wTmGyQVwexQQAfmNaeAk41cKFaWAvcxW5X620OdsGBd3bG0qfyyOV2dqI23hXB6FF97Pxr97hoWmCTLF/s640/2019-04-13_0035.jpg" width="592" /></a></div>
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In addition to the wedding pictures, I have taken maternity and newborn photos for each of these children:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizMXN-uyXhtPdx6EzMLn4bv-icVWN9aBwz71MSIKNy_aUXSYs3uxsn46t9braR5xyz0fT7V7mR_djW6L9oRpeP-WnCazDYSQgn9UqWk1FpETeTWYS0EQR6iEBJ3R1GtXhPQu4IKHlt3fKt/s1600/2019-04-13_0037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1277" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizMXN-uyXhtPdx6EzMLn4bv-icVWN9aBwz71MSIKNy_aUXSYs3uxsn46t9braR5xyz0fT7V7mR_djW6L9oRpeP-WnCazDYSQgn9UqWk1FpETeTWYS0EQR6iEBJ3R1GtXhPQu4IKHlt3fKt/s640/2019-04-13_0037.jpg" width="510" /></a></div>
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Next we have N's brother T and his wife J, who also happened to be in the Dominican with us. They let us store our bus in their driveway while we were getting our yard ready, and they have since moved to California so getting a chance to catch up with these two was really really nice! I feel like J needs to knit me things, though. She's really good at it (note the gorgeous scarf!) but I digress.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl4lgO9Lg3ybNEyB9igV7o_HnCwWinua7UqWxj5HloQ0itIpyt6KYUG38oBJ67bnlbh-cUKiZrlsFoRytqUn_Yc6-0PWjyWzJXKvRFm-YqNJ8uOaLXyEO8lCi7HkQu_LjmGrFQhd75g3In/s1600/2019-04-13_0043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1327" data-original-width="1600" height="530" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl4lgO9Lg3ybNEyB9igV7o_HnCwWinua7UqWxj5HloQ0itIpyt6KYUG38oBJ67bnlbh-cUKiZrlsFoRytqUn_Yc6-0PWjyWzJXKvRFm-YqNJ8uOaLXyEO8lCi7HkQu_LjmGrFQhd75g3In/s640/2019-04-13_0043.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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And of course we have the 'rents, M & R, who have got to be two of the funniest, strongest, kindest, most hardworking and loving human beings I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.<br />
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The Fab Five:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsd16OXPhzxQ7Me1PEOzxuEKMfdY629UX28sKI2WuwNc2pXlpcHqZ_60Xu_X9zLFrv6JT8HYuLpTD17B4eORM9biYmm2m3XtsHRF6zII04Zy82QbBMKpK3bNe-fvoo3mn64lzGCq1SdF1G/s1600/2019-04-13_0045.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1400" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsd16OXPhzxQ7Me1PEOzxuEKMfdY629UX28sKI2WuwNc2pXlpcHqZ_60Xu_X9zLFrv6JT8HYuLpTD17B4eORM9biYmm2m3XtsHRF6zII04Zy82QbBMKpK3bNe-fvoo3mn64lzGCq1SdF1G/s640/2019-04-13_0045.jpg" width="560" /></a></div>
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Once we finished the "official" portrait session, I stood in one spot while this hilarious crew ran themselves through a series of ridiculous photobooth-type poses.<br />
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Now that the kids are all growed up and gone, M & R have dogs to spoil when the grandchildren aren't handy.<br />
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Which of course led to these pictures, inspired by Vieler Photography's hilarious <a href="https://www.vieler-photography.com/portfolio/snapshots/" target="_blank">portrait series of dogs catching treats.</a><br />
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This was the first sign that it was time to put the camera down as it was time to celebrate N's birthday. There was drinking, laughter, pizza, piecaken, and hangovers all around...<br />
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Thank you for adopting us, N. We love you guys!!!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8632340673162795250.post-66930086140325733312018-09-30T21:35:00.000-06:002019-04-13T21:36:20.173-06:00magic number 10<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Meet N. He is about to propose to T, a girl he has shipped off on a scavenger hunt which involves getting her nails done and revisiting all their favourite date spots. N invited me down to Calgary to capture this special moment and I was ecstatic to be asked!</div>
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N and T met in the Dominican while they were both there for other people's weddings. (My husband and I were there shooting one of the weddings, which is how I know the fiancee-to-be...)<br />
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After T hits the last stop on the scavenger hunt, N knows its was go-time. He puts on some pants...<br />
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finishes laying out the petals...<br />
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and lighting the candles....<br />
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Then taking many many deep breaths as T arrives. (You can see by her face that she was not expecting to see me there!)<br />
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To say that T was surprised would be a complete understatement<br />
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I was crying almost as much as T was!<br />
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Now, it's true he initially put the ring on the wrong finger, but at least he put a ring on a finger!!!<br />
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Congratulations to you, N and T - I can hardly wait for the wedding, which may well be another 10 years from now but I'll be ready when you are haha!<br />
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An extra special thank you to my friend Milana who accompanied me to Calgary to assist with this shoot!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8632340673162795250.post-52211998965452862072018-09-30T21:22:00.000-06:002019-04-13T21:22:43.776-06:00four is the new two<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I met D & E about 10 years ago. Their engagement session involved standing in a wide open field and smashing pumpkins with golf clubs, a clear indication that there were my kind of people. </div>
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A wedding and three children later, they've added the fourth and final instalment to their family.<br />
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Say hello to miss R, whose cheeks are every bit as plush and squishy and kissable as they look.<br />
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The last time we went out to their place for dinner, Mom showed me about a picture frame that had 4 openings in it. I guessed that there was a bun in the oven. I should have put some money down.<br />
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Such a bright and alert little face!<br />
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(K liked this pose so much he wanted to try, too!)<br />
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Congratulations, D & E. She is absolutely the perfect way to fill up that picture frame!!! See you at the beach!<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8632340673162795250.post-31846340197305764582018-08-25T20:42:00.000-06:002019-04-13T20:42:43.552-06:00she calls me Hoke<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I've known this sweet little lady's Mom, E, for about 17 years. She wasn't much bigger than this when I met her.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOGheP8Ju4MZacc25Eb-9hdYHLLhHFpsdhUuK8kgBWExnA-owdsSidCkrGDyCxwgEzjNC-mqpSghJJcA9ZK9I2x-vwt9alx76fU0GxjGEYBE3xm39XaWEN933I3A0xT-_-uU5CjNvaPA2b/s1600/2019-04-13_0066.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="744" data-original-width="1600" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOGheP8Ju4MZacc25Eb-9hdYHLLhHFpsdhUuK8kgBWExnA-owdsSidCkrGDyCxwgEzjNC-mqpSghJJcA9ZK9I2x-vwt9alx76fU0GxjGEYBE3xm39XaWEN933I3A0xT-_-uU5CjNvaPA2b/s640/2019-04-13_0066.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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This past summer, my daughter and I made a trek to Colorado to see E, meet her partner K, and finally get to play with Miss S and her brand new baby sister, V. I have mountains of photos of our adventure while we were there to share, but first I want to share these, because they are so very precious!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4WQ902HgkzP23l7rq4hFOw8tsMYvLOfaCMUPna2Fq3J_8aXtWkL47594pY-OVqwQ99owq4S53g1hTVzq9gHEjNv87VdXAVkEPpEE2oe1BUpPkEK93nUfpViLfe4WlFWJnHcciGTstBy7Q/s1600/2019-04-13_0067.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1363" data-original-width="1600" height="544" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4WQ902HgkzP23l7rq4hFOw8tsMYvLOfaCMUPna2Fq3J_8aXtWkL47594pY-OVqwQ99owq4S53g1hTVzq9gHEjNv87VdXAVkEPpEE2oe1BUpPkEK93nUfpViLfe4WlFWJnHcciGTstBy7Q/s640/2019-04-13_0067.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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BATGIRLS!!!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEznr0KJRq_pV0lKVRY9OK8gSkzuxk9A-LeLaPe-pJPiloXWDBdxviVsDJkxAEFuyYCxbPr2Bdjb9TgfGo5BiluP_N2o8MQCj4hozcoSPGh9rEoRR1CjNnO51WGEMcFLF0zcj5w-quVqaX/s1600/2019-04-13_0068.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1068" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEznr0KJRq_pV0lKVRY9OK8gSkzuxk9A-LeLaPe-pJPiloXWDBdxviVsDJkxAEFuyYCxbPr2Bdjb9TgfGo5BiluP_N2o8MQCj4hozcoSPGh9rEoRR1CjNnO51WGEMcFLF0zcj5w-quVqaX/s640/2019-04-13_0068.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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After a BBQ at K's parents' place, we snuck off to the park for some quick snaps before E's big brother M had to go back to his Mom's place. I think M's face sums up how pretty much every eldest sibling feels at some point...<br />
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Check out those ponytails, hey?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn-B_U7cdkq_0-iMzWumSKUhae-Qcn5oHv4VsssmR9qhRUGyjg99QIkLyWfvWxveOJUTayOVNq-rPWliGUa1xUL4JsogysHg8r_pf-cn0AVfov5UHF7Yx6DwjEJbqzPmbKj6x8AxYTgggX/s1600/2019-04-13_0071.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="742" data-original-width="1600" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn-B_U7cdkq_0-iMzWumSKUhae-Qcn5oHv4VsssmR9qhRUGyjg99QIkLyWfvWxveOJUTayOVNq-rPWliGUa1xUL4JsogysHg8r_pf-cn0AVfov5UHF7Yx6DwjEJbqzPmbKj6x8AxYTgggX/s640/2019-04-13_0071.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The day ended with sink baths for the girls. I can barely remember when my own babies were small enough to do that - I was in baby and toddler heaven...<br />
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I think no one has ever loved a mispronunciation of their name quite so much as I love that Miss S calls me her Hoke. And I love our Facetime chats, which look EXACTLY like this:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU7L8rtESG9Rslc7pG4caISg0qCWhbYjoYxNA4B5bZ3hKeFkfwbVfjHlFiqmvVBbMp90EmiGqxeOTY3wggBRz7PxZWLiogoaeP6_RgQoFWDSu5Q5cUSRDxFNim6ladHDWIW-lLvjyLn9pE/s1600/Facetiming-Toddler-cartoon-by-jonathan-jui.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU7L8rtESG9Rslc7pG4caISg0qCWhbYjoYxNA4B5bZ3hKeFkfwbVfjHlFiqmvVBbMp90EmiGqxeOTY3wggBRz7PxZWLiogoaeP6_RgQoFWDSu5Q5cUSRDxFNim6ladHDWIW-lLvjyLn9pE/s640/Facetiming-Toddler-cartoon-by-jonathan-jui.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8632340673162795250.post-64915952537655840462018-07-27T19:05:00.000-06:002019-04-13T19:09:05.298-06:00where the wild things are<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Remember <a href="https://hopewallsphotography.blogspot.com/2017/08/when-one-of-your-bffs-gets-married.html" target="_blank">this gorgeous couple</a>? Well, after their honeymoon they decided they needed to expand the famjam!!! Say hello to Mr. A!!!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2rnZ5aBhZRu2W8N7rpeqLpEIRpXFV7-IgawJfRztwWt4pqNs644j90o_m84FxZBFbsvLNHyT0QpMDuWiuUWxzgzqdV5Xi1acEYL0cnPvwmE22jnhwtgYXma0Oe3EXVDdTZ1X2aoOO4Y3k/s1600/2019-04-13_0005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1009" data-original-width="1600" height="402" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2rnZ5aBhZRu2W8N7rpeqLpEIRpXFV7-IgawJfRztwWt4pqNs644j90o_m84FxZBFbsvLNHyT0QpMDuWiuUWxzgzqdV5Xi1acEYL0cnPvwmE22jnhwtgYXma0Oe3EXVDdTZ1X2aoOO4Y3k/s640/2019-04-13_0005.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Such an expressive little face...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEe7ETqc0aw7oX6KRnX4AVwXz2mZY3OLOsKWmkME30qcGXBOSqwagdkof_Hssz8_OO4r89db7F5pNJDKeoYw0JK9IZ1dXHQhBZWEKOfdCj_tt2F18NbRmakmq9wdSDy9MlRM9Srfw-nx-E/s1600/2019-04-13_0006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1419" data-original-width="1600" height="566" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEe7ETqc0aw7oX6KRnX4AVwXz2mZY3OLOsKWmkME30qcGXBOSqwagdkof_Hssz8_OO4r89db7F5pNJDKeoYw0JK9IZ1dXHQhBZWEKOfdCj_tt2F18NbRmakmq9wdSDy9MlRM9Srfw-nx-E/s640/2019-04-13_0006.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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His parents are obviously very much in love with each other...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdoyBeiPJD3dpPOQjiFT90Ao0zjaZnQu4hM-_lPyH9RpCipRxGzVYESE5Hg6GwV92yvs36Dd_8HBWnVwi-o4CgewsCTPFR8Ya5sdIwiOT_5Z0HTpC5LcrQ8oxu2Wf0A8k4nBsY1VxKfTbS/s1600/2019-04-13_0009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1201" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdoyBeiPJD3dpPOQjiFT90Ao0zjaZnQu4hM-_lPyH9RpCipRxGzVYESE5Hg6GwV92yvs36Dd_8HBWnVwi-o4CgewsCTPFR8Ya5sdIwiOT_5Z0HTpC5LcrQ8oxu2Wf0A8k4nBsY1VxKfTbS/s640/2019-04-13_0009.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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And with their newest addition. Congratulations, you guys - he is perfect!</div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8632340673162795250.post-17351932093471184292018-06-24T15:26:00.001-06:002019-04-13T17:36:28.449-06:00chasing light<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This adorable pair rescheduled from a few weeks ago because the sunset shoot we had planned was under threat of serious cloud cover. While it pushed us back a full 2 weeks, I don't think any of us have regrets.</div>
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It was a warm but mosquito-infested night, and while these two look calm and gorgeous, there were lot of outtakes. While slapping. At mosquitoes.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5tEQJCbfLQ-QtOzyvgkZV_ZBPP2iVLAf2qzcVYpKdKB4RXKORD5Cf2pg1cDJwSKlzG59_wCVJM16h9RhLoUKiquML-lDHP-7j8ZKYZrOcRKCS4z5AgPh0jX8Nny9dpfSEoJoFNSvhyjBd/s1600/2018-06-24_0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1419" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5tEQJCbfLQ-QtOzyvgkZV_ZBPP2iVLAf2qzcVYpKdKB4RXKORD5Cf2pg1cDJwSKlzG59_wCVJM16h9RhLoUKiquML-lDHP-7j8ZKYZrOcRKCS4z5AgPh0jX8Nny9dpfSEoJoFNSvhyjBd/s400/2018-06-24_0002.jpg" width="353" /></a></div>
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These two are adorable, by the way. The best part about taking their pictures was that I would put them in a spot and instead of directing them a lot, I'd just leave them to their own devices. They would start talking to each other, and the smiles just came, the way they tend to when couples share a deep affection and familiarity with one another.<br />
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I'm super excited about the location for this wedding - it's in a town close to the village my Dad grew up in and where my Gramma and Grampa lived while I was a kid. Just the thought of making the drive we made so many times when I was a child fills me with nostalgia and I can hardly wait to drink in the landscape, put some fresh flowers down and get some Chinese food at my favourite small-town dive.<br />
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I mentioned mosquitoes, right? Part of dealing with mosquitoes is editing them out in post. They look like pollen fluffs until you zoom in and the fluffy thingies have wings. #summerinalberta<br />
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Thanks for coming out and braving the local wildlife, trespassing on daisy-covered lawns, and chasing the sunset. Looking SO forward to the wedding, and I promise to hold off visiting my Gramma and Grampa and Daddy until after the wedding so I'm not all weepy and sentimental.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8632340673162795250.post-11129324460003265512018-06-23T15:46:00.002-06:002019-04-13T17:36:28.440-06:00one of my kids finally got married!OK, so he's not *actually* my kid - he's a Dutch exchange student who came to Canada 8 or so years ago with one of his classmates and we adopted them. I was fortunate enough to be included on the invitation list for their nuptials in the Netherlands, and even more fortunate that I was able to find the means to go. I have TONNES more pics from the Netherlands, but I really want to share these photos, because they mean so very much to me.<br />
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F & R, first and foremost, CONGRATULATIONS! I have to admit, it was killing me not being up there with a camera, but I loved every minute of the ceremony, even the parts I couldn't understand because my entire Dutch vocabulary (thanks to you) consists of telling people I don't eat pork and saying I am going to throw hot coffee at them. (The bride and her Mom sewed her dress - it was soooo beautiful!!!)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU21bWvrle9lTC4gXjBwhfrbeZ08AI6CvH_1bwH7gNYUcWx7tHTWmU41S1_ynGLTOvDCZIr9q6ytrd7TUjjq0YlQ_TQ5ItarrdRLAtiH9N3oUX7mLgZM-8v4IHK8sMX5hAQ2-RUdVmGfvT/s1600/2018-06-23_0021.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1304" data-original-width="1600" height="325" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU21bWvrle9lTC4gXjBwhfrbeZ08AI6CvH_1bwH7gNYUcWx7tHTWmU41S1_ynGLTOvDCZIr9q6ytrd7TUjjq0YlQ_TQ5ItarrdRLAtiH9N3oUX7mLgZM-8v4IHK8sMX5hAQ2-RUdVmGfvT/s400/2018-06-23_0021.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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According to my sources, Netherbitlandian weddings usually take place on Fridays. While I've heard a few explanations for what the logic is behind it, the most popular answer was so that you got a long weekend to recover from the drinking. This particular wedding took place in Zeeland at the coolest campsite I've ever been in - it was a miniature train station surrounded by a freakin' hedge labyrinth! It's called <a href="https://www.recreatievanlangeraad.nl/" target="_blank">Recreatieboerderij Van Langeraad</a> and I was I love the second I saw potted daisies and a smoker full of fish...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWI_T6iLyUxSrBfj3fhU497ffInnCQk-yRRCQHcOyFZMlsdyEtkZCQrJHRBAA3uqNjpRlgqO0CL9LfVL82avrmqSSLbIBkrlFuyAFsLH5C_MElnlyDwVKfiuR8sHYyoWQ-Kr0CGExQ2E0E/s1600/2018-06-23_0022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1363" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWI_T6iLyUxSrBfj3fhU497ffInnCQk-yRRCQHcOyFZMlsdyEtkZCQrJHRBAA3uqNjpRlgqO0CL9LfVL82avrmqSSLbIBkrlFuyAFsLH5C_MElnlyDwVKfiuR8sHYyoWQ-Kr0CGExQ2E0E/s400/2018-06-23_0022.jpg" width="340" /></a></div>
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I was a bit nervous I'd feel like the odd man out, being the third wheel to my other Dutch kid and his girlfriend and having only met a handful of others before the wedding, but I was so openly and warmly welcomed by not only the 007 crew (who had heard all about me!) but by the groom's parents, who called me the "Canadian Mom." Of course, while i wasn't on official duty, the camera came out and I got a few gooders...<br />
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I have to give a huge shout-out to T who kept me company and to R for expanding my foreign swear word collection. I count myself very lucky to include these folks in my amazing circle of acquaintances. Look at all these ridiculously tall beautiful people! I have seriously never felt so short in my life as I did at this wedding...<br />
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The bride and groom returned in the morning to share breakfast and say farewell to all the campers. Of course they were travelling to and from their bridal suite on a bike. OF COURSE!<br />
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I love these two so so much and look forward to watching where the road leads them next (besides Cape Verde where a delayed plane was an excuse to run down the side of an ashy volcano... geologists...!) Thank you SO much for inviting me, and I look forward to visiting the newlyweds in London where I have been told to refuse an invitation to go for a pint with the bride, whose motto is "eating is cheating."<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8632340673162795250.post-78509278166941941072018-06-23T15:02:00.003-06:002018-06-23T15:07:50.283-06:00Occitania AirBnB - Puivert, France<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Normally I wouldn't do an entire post about accommodations, but I am breaking with tradition on this one, because it deserves it's own description.</div>
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Located in the Midi-Pyrenees, area of Southern France, you travel about an hour and a half from the Toulouse airport to the quaint village of <a href="https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Puivert" target="_blank">Puivert</a> through a maze of winding highways nestled amongst stunning vistas and hills dotted with castles, churches, chateaus, and terracotta-roofed houses.</div>
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The village of Puivert is connected by a maze of trails and narrow streets that make you feel like you're in a fairy tale. It sits beneath the <a href="http://www.catharcastles.info/puivert.php" target="_blank">Chateau de Puivert</a>, one of countless sites along the <a href="http://www.cathar.info/" target="_blank">Cathar</a> trail. There are a handful of restaurants and pubs, a museum, and L'Eglise de Puivert. The air is fresh and the sounds of music, clattering pots and pans, and lively conversation echo through the town.<br />
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It's spring, and everything is dripping with blossoms, especially the rose bushes that seem to cling to the side of every home and litter the ground with oceans of brightly coloured petals; the abundance of the local delicacy (escargot) is apparent - you can't walk 10 feet in any direction without seeing the huge crab-apple sized snails everywhere.<br />
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When you arrive at the <a href="https://www.airbnb.ca/rooms/10670511?s=51" target="_blank">Occitania</a>, you are greeted with a lush English-style garden.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWC_6yeLGGjnAUT79kF4L5eSje4_5qCaezRqufO7oNmJLDGBZnp8Ya-DZSCVYRxI8yXYM_TkuJTZpAr1YrsywJbUy27UaqFUDzT1AeqZGdy1IpEG4fvGXE65FS8_GbKqxp39i9T2larKQN/s1600/2018-06-23_0009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1455" data-original-width="1600" height="362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWC_6yeLGGjnAUT79kF4L5eSje4_5qCaezRqufO7oNmJLDGBZnp8Ya-DZSCVYRxI8yXYM_TkuJTZpAr1YrsywJbUy27UaqFUDzT1AeqZGdy1IpEG4fvGXE65FS8_GbKqxp39i9T2larKQN/s400/2018-06-23_0009.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Along with a beautiful deck with chairs and an umbrella, the garden is an oasis - charming little seating areas are tucked into every nook and cranny - whether you want to sit alone and read or visit with a group of friends and some delicious (but cheap!) French wine, there is no shortage of lush places to relax.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCAAwDhOG9uXF66iaf2_SUrxLgBrK4hNHIdECiayivKkI-WY7km1F0ds1PczEOBT9mx3g8VnRykRn7pWOvZAkOJN17SCpI0nUueRrO4FmVo6jFKOc7UBvBwBeab33hQmMTkeHLqQOXPgkm/s1600/2018-06-23_0013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1262" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCAAwDhOG9uXF66iaf2_SUrxLgBrK4hNHIdECiayivKkI-WY7km1F0ds1PczEOBT9mx3g8VnRykRn7pWOvZAkOJN17SCpI0nUueRrO4FmVo6jFKOc7UBvBwBeab33hQmMTkeHLqQOXPgkm/s640/2018-06-23_0013.jpg" width="504" /></a></div>
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The garden itself is a feast for the eyes. </div>
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The owners have collected sacred and beloved items from their travels and every were you look there are hidden treasures.<br />
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There's apparently a neighbourhood joke that says you can predict when it will rain by seeing if hosts Anaiya and Pete have hung out the laundry. (I have lots to say about Anaiya and Pete later - let's finish the tour first...)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4hBz8BA6gZZhWZqgsdiF4gVwxRAo1GhPodVqRGAthA_gkjjftmFrgYfOY1pPopitGSFNbuKckD2cYuyCptaDfP-Y34Fv0mANM2qxdwqCQ86UD874bt-w9GVrED2rTSh5YUHZQj_W66Fp-/s1600/2018-06-23_0015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1188" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4hBz8BA6gZZhWZqgsdiF4gVwxRAo1GhPodVqRGAthA_gkjjftmFrgYfOY1pPopitGSFNbuKckD2cYuyCptaDfP-Y34Fv0mANM2qxdwqCQ86UD874bt-w9GVrED2rTSh5YUHZQj_W66Fp-/s640/2018-06-23_0015.jpg" width="468" /></a></div>
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It's really difficult o describe the way it feels crossing the threshold of this home, except perhaps to say it feels like coming home. You are greeted by the delicious smell of incense as you enter a room featuring soft hues, warm brick and stonework, and the gentle shimmer of pale pearlescent paint. The treasures continue indoors with a virtual museum of the hosts' personal collection of spiritual and mystical trinkets and collectibles.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3rZYqAayrKwt7NComozK26zO2bBY0IViASI3_6uSQd29zRum8w7_Ff35sxC_mKDSbjpRB2zsirxU0talRLrNU0QuRk-Zwvarun2rok582JPF-y5mgZz4CfYr8juUgKVPkYkea_bAtrgRZ/s1600/2018-06-23_0008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1131" data-original-width="1600" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3rZYqAayrKwt7NComozK26zO2bBY0IViASI3_6uSQd29zRum8w7_Ff35sxC_mKDSbjpRB2zsirxU0talRLrNU0QuRk-Zwvarun2rok582JPF-y5mgZz4CfYr8juUgKVPkYkea_bAtrgRZ/s400/2018-06-23_0008.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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I would be remiss if I didn't mention that you will also be greeted by the mistrusting neighbour cat (he likes to watch you...) as well as the resident furbabies, a hyper pup named Tilly, a chill old man named Patty, and a large cat who *may* try and climb onto your shoulders if you are not being an adequately active cat-petter.<br />
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In addition to hosting tourists like me, Anaiya does spiritual and yoga retreats, and has a dedicated room for this purpose. On the second floor, this spacious room displays a generous collection of beautiful stones and crystals, artwork, soft furs, and votives, along with a library full of books (including copies of the ones she herself has written!) in case you forget to bring one of your own.</div>
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Directly across from the meditation room is a cozy, inviting sitting room filled with beautiful light spilling in from the huge window overlooking the garden.</div>
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Up the stairs on the third floor are two of the bedrooms, each featuring a charming skylight and tiny windows peeking out from the slope of the roof. This room with a double bed and an inviting chair is decorated with warm wooden furniture and linens in shades of green and yellow.<br />
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Across from this is the blue room, where a trail of sparrows flies around the perimeter of the three single modern beds.<br />
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Back down the stairs and down the hallway is the fairy room, a double bed swatched in a symphony of crisp white, pastel violet, and cool aqua.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnXXHivNHsso9Lydrnd28biDQtnw0i-ofGCilJpc3RjOfDhS17MC-VIVBCKAaQK7uVDx2E_GbaGvLVwTdaQOm6p1GPIvwv1mYJulZdg1sFIPM8gJw9varThq-_AaeCBcCFzKlQpQP0dRBD/s1600/2018-06-23_0018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1133" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnXXHivNHsso9Lydrnd28biDQtnw0i-ofGCilJpc3RjOfDhS17MC-VIVBCKAaQK7uVDx2E_GbaGvLVwTdaQOm6p1GPIvwv1mYJulZdg1sFIPM8gJw9varThq-_AaeCBcCFzKlQpQP0dRBD/s640/2018-06-23_0018.jpg" width="449" /></a></div>
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Beside this room is an incredible bathroom replete with mosaics and a HUGE clawfoot tub! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnfLJLWXNKiobV-BSdxCINyWOUaCvETJy-wd_hdpMOIW0qJxjkn1s6PoNz9QkX0vt55Gpc46OolYKyU3-Gy1Hkufx9W0JNcDtEp0snWFkwn5VBOv3lrWje9rItP8u7Y8hpCHFcYoQnFSil/s1600/2018-06-23_0004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="744" data-original-width="1600" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnfLJLWXNKiobV-BSdxCINyWOUaCvETJy-wd_hdpMOIW0qJxjkn1s6PoNz9QkX0vt55Gpc46OolYKyU3-Gy1Hkufx9W0JNcDtEp0snWFkwn5VBOv3lrWje9rItP8u7Y8hpCHFcYoQnFSil/s400/2018-06-23_0004.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Adjacent to the fairy room and on the way to the plush potty is the office and another beautiful seating area. This is where creative juices flow, and is the spot where Anaiya and Pete connect with the world through writing, social media, and more.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwWtWBcJXfCobc6OpA2W9WdqfjwEOgRnc-m1I0KK91DqGLw6YNoCjK3eY3kXMeUJotkkRh0aECNWsb86_A0rvxqyI_gt8py2HkSv33L01p3WbbtayVERPpKD9pGCrUOz39H433a3GUGy4p/s1600/2018-06-23_0005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1325" data-original-width="1600" height="330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwWtWBcJXfCobc6OpA2W9WdqfjwEOgRnc-m1I0KK91DqGLw6YNoCjK3eY3kXMeUJotkkRh0aECNWsb86_A0rvxqyI_gt8py2HkSv33L01p3WbbtayVERPpKD9pGCrUOz39H433a3GUGy4p/s400/2018-06-23_0005.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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And upstairs from that, another beautiful room with a comfy chaise, funky old trunks, and a large comfy bed.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaS3S7M6NYOPvEd6YTMpCsJjagPTpQ8q1PXFr_dBzXZl9j9RvQaDFluxw7TfXili-F90nnc1CmUccjiNQcuASoFLNWZ471TUviafOaysrRg41HcotO13Iba0ONOMevx7py1qy8tNFDCN2f/s1600/2018-06-23_0012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1419" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaS3S7M6NYOPvEd6YTMpCsJjagPTpQ8q1PXFr_dBzXZl9j9RvQaDFluxw7TfXili-F90nnc1CmUccjiNQcuASoFLNWZ471TUviafOaysrRg41HcotO13Iba0ONOMevx7py1qy8tNFDCN2f/s400/2018-06-23_0012.jpg" width="353" /></a></div>
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This is the "winter" bedroom where the hosts relocate to when the temperatures drop and their (private) abode on the main floor with wide double doors leading into the garden is too cool.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEZy6riRMS3rpOlzrN6LY7p8dWGDbzXN5EGriBSynBOA_RBn6Nw-_fb4dq_gqHxZ8YN3iT5A4ui9AhswcRkMV22RIxJkZ2pYts_wrrEO-RDgQIMY5Rl2pb8I0KtwS3VvPRp9Z7MU2_vSIc/s1600/2018-06-23_0017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1304" data-original-width="1600" height="325" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEZy6riRMS3rpOlzrN6LY7p8dWGDbzXN5EGriBSynBOA_RBn6Nw-_fb4dq_gqHxZ8YN3iT5A4ui9AhswcRkMV22RIxJkZ2pYts_wrrEO-RDgQIMY5Rl2pb8I0KtwS3VvPRp9Z7MU2_vSIc/s400/2018-06-23_0017.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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It's a bed and breakfast, so of course I need to mention that in addition to the beautiful and generous vegetarian breakfasts of fresh fruit, juice, yogourt, crackers, jams, cheeses, and amazing artisan breads, there is a never-ending supply of hot water in the kettle for tea, any time, day or night.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicbPKIA8B_qh7XLslaTRbxz6y6pwkXQ_7AGgW1uDK1-eN45lzhsX_qVF3HGGql179jpuKO04t4tDXfWE-qc2ex0Na4hMLomuDxLI_c7ZVz-fFcL6SUzis6TGtCLFGDpJODVhduvxjgyqoy/s1600/2018-06-23_0016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1476" data-original-width="1600" height="368" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicbPKIA8B_qh7XLslaTRbxz6y6pwkXQ_7AGgW1uDK1-eN45lzhsX_qVF3HGGql179jpuKO04t4tDXfWE-qc2ex0Na4hMLomuDxLI_c7ZVz-fFcL6SUzis6TGtCLFGDpJODVhduvxjgyqoy/s400/2018-06-23_0016.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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But the MOST amazing part of Occitania isn't the house, the location, or even the never-ending eye-candy. It is the the hosts, Pete and Anaiya, who made me feel not as a guest but as an old friend. From telling me about the history, mystery, and mythology of the area, they shared with me personal stories about their experiences and adventures. Their knowledge and generosity helped me plot the perfect route home to hit sites I might not have considered before heading back to the airport. They are kind, warm, welcoming, loving, and adorable. Just trust me - make a point of asking them how they met and you will ~swoon~</div>
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Thank you, Anaiya and Pete, for welcoming me into your lovely home, sharing of yourselves, letting me take a ridiculous amount of photos, feeding me, keeping my cup of tea full, letting me love on your dogs, encouraging non-judgemental napping, and teaching me about the place you live and love. I feel like a piece of my heart now resides in a small village in the south of France, and I can hardly wait to come back with family and friends. Expect a knock at the door in 2019.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8632340673162795250.post-49217412259172389572018-06-19T12:04:00.001-06:002018-06-19T12:09:31.720-06:00so, I got a new tattooGrief is a funny thing. Not like a haha funny thing but a funny thing in that it manifests itself in the same ways in varying degrees in all of us regardless of what we are grieving - major life changes, loss of a loved one, unfulfilled wishes and dreams - and when we are living in our own heads it may be challenging to see that someone's hurtful words or actions are nothing more than their means of coping with grief. Likewise, we all want and need different kinds of support - some of us will become meek, some of us will be mean, some of us will need to be carried, some of us will build a wall, some of us will retreat, some of us will make ourselves a burden... and the ensuing drama will play itself out as unpredictably as Alberta weather.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLhIeRDTSLYjfCkhmLXIGa1dghwQ6PoCu_vq1sZO4JRmFDpqOe8sCALXWfr0QjvNfRMr9K9FAnQVnaf3dmf77dYBiBcBHdVZKoLHOWWz4DcrjSK09P1G7y3t3py1f8jttYemo6S3Gnuhuo/s1600/master-a-grief-quote.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLhIeRDTSLYjfCkhmLXIGa1dghwQ6PoCu_vq1sZO4JRmFDpqOe8sCALXWfr0QjvNfRMr9K9FAnQVnaf3dmf77dYBiBcBHdVZKoLHOWWz4DcrjSK09P1G7y3t3py1f8jttYemo6S3Gnuhuo/s400/master-a-grief-quote.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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I'm pragmatic by nature - my tendency is to say, let's slow down, weigh our options and examine all the possible outcomes then determine how we feel about them so that when the time comes to act (or react) we aren't caught with our (emotional) pants down. Trying to make major life decisions while in a deep state of shock can be detrimental, and while I don't consider myself <i>the</i> voice of reason, I like to think I am at least a reasonable voice.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjO-2sTrlAAnvuX7PtDlB06ALVI_Dhvx-ljV5QRQmX6pcuj9UxWnl0SQqaQH1QKobCaQMIapVWgGGyoYYHKz8Gwd7OqfjHROK-8TxdpLumsl2bP3LFkvxWGEjyujzpnkRA_JayoyFPE0ve/s1600/quote-it-is-a-characteristic-of-wisdom-not-to-do-desperate-things-henry-david-thoreau-184827.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="850" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjO-2sTrlAAnvuX7PtDlB06ALVI_Dhvx-ljV5QRQmX6pcuj9UxWnl0SQqaQH1QKobCaQMIapVWgGGyoYYHKz8Gwd7OqfjHROK-8TxdpLumsl2bP3LFkvxWGEjyujzpnkRA_JayoyFPE0ve/s320/quote-it-is-a-characteristic-of-wisdom-not-to-do-desperate-things-henry-david-thoreau-184827.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Hot on the heels of some pretty amazing adventures while travelling over the past two weeks, I was hit with two people very close to me caught in massive, life-altering crises, one on either side of the Atlantic, both with very different circumstances but both deeply tied to grief. One I was unable to be physically or emotionally present for and the other I was unable to be physically or emotionally absent for, and neither was interested in pragmatism. I was left not knowing how to support either of these individuals adequately or appropriately.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIJ3K-khrT39EKCpY4ZL8zlzsl9LWz7RNqfInmke6n-K94jv8hqkFLL1jMGySeYhfL7Gw-Sho-cRZ-OgULDSMZNze9wOmLQ2HTD4Iu5iCn3vc6K9XFLJRMcr4-YhsCaXMvr5Fg5Yh1dZh1/s1600/2018-06-19_0011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="365" data-original-width="800" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIJ3K-khrT39EKCpY4ZL8zlzsl9LWz7RNqfInmke6n-K94jv8hqkFLL1jMGySeYhfL7Gw-Sho-cRZ-OgULDSMZNze9wOmLQ2HTD4Iu5iCn3vc6K9XFLJRMcr4-YhsCaXMvr5Fg5Yh1dZh1/s400/2018-06-19_0011.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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None of this hurt me, per se - I understand that people lash out when emotions are high and intend nothing personal. Often we are too deep within our own turmoil to be aware of how actions and words might come across to others. I know, because I have been there, both asking and offering forgiveness for things I have said or done in times of crisis. So while I wasn't hurt by the rejection, this whole Nanny McPhee need-me-but-don't-want-me, want-me-but-don't-need-me conundrum left me feeling awkward and displaced. My solution was to absent myself from one situation and start moving towards being present for the other, because it was the only way I could feel if not effectual then at least productive.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlsfy8hJZZKiOHrevUMjRyvHEDfdq8Yg9fppw-EgKLdMKv3LaYWXPmjE9wRSgR1SyprIGUvqyi96J1NDmQctJwm5a_nFGx02RsiFyRJpuPtz4x3OtUL_23CT7C-Txmn7MAdZbTUcDy4Puq/s1600/2018-06-19_0008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlsfy8hJZZKiOHrevUMjRyvHEDfdq8Yg9fppw-EgKLdMKv3LaYWXPmjE9wRSgR1SyprIGUvqyi96J1NDmQctJwm5a_nFGx02RsiFyRJpuPtz4x3OtUL_23CT7C-Txmn7MAdZbTUcDy4Puq/s320/2018-06-19_0008.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Like Nanny McPhee I fled the scene, and as I was wandering the streets towards the train headed for the airport all I kept thinking was, dammit, I wish I had my bike.<br />
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I got a new tattoo while in Thailand with my husband last month (May 2018.)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAnY0ums4fO5HnwhU35kYKGHp9qt3Ps78TatQZWhZpE4Jkg5311l2F5FPlCkE_7XxHXZrFEOa6fdpYY2ZEzhpjYVkHJw1Gzvxk4PCfsEUu9qRxyw8b5M-MG-FLgKwp1FI-w8h1fqHvfKRy/s1600/2018-06-19_0009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAnY0ums4fO5HnwhU35kYKGHp9qt3Ps78TatQZWhZpE4Jkg5311l2F5FPlCkE_7XxHXZrFEOa6fdpYY2ZEzhpjYVkHJw1Gzvxk4PCfsEUu9qRxyw8b5M-MG-FLgKwp1FI-w8h1fqHvfKRy/s320/2018-06-19_0009.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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It sort of reads like a personal resume. We will start from the bottom and work our way up.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSXy_g9q29OU0tnmwlFmBX_UFdm4zptSbOohy6GEBKIsXAqX7zWxw5s8r6w6gRcGlCh2dUoXd9YF9Db_Brsm4i8hm89ey77TFT9tMOgIOqFgCT350V25aRX-CqnKKFubBu6VsXwZITw4K9/s1600/IMG_1204.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSXy_g9q29OU0tnmwlFmBX_UFdm4zptSbOohy6GEBKIsXAqX7zWxw5s8r6w6gRcGlCh2dUoXd9YF9Db_Brsm4i8hm89ey77TFT9tMOgIOqFgCT350V25aRX-CqnKKFubBu6VsXwZITw4K9/s320/IMG_1204.JPG" width="287" /></a></div>
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The symbol on my wrist - the one I get asked most about - represents a weather vane. I chose this instead of a compass or map because my love of travel usually takes me wherever the wind blows.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaqJOm1P1OQPCnHixVPycTomnCer7nr_CT9nqA5OT-p91h_mg1JztBVMURMfSrtVMfIDVUCQ5KOfkDXGz5REo3jS9iwhFq1gChd243i5K1OHTmOO6Fks8akstlM-gx7s6j1iNrMI75NX01/s1600/2018-06-19_0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="659" data-original-width="799" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaqJOm1P1OQPCnHixVPycTomnCer7nr_CT9nqA5OT-p91h_mg1JztBVMURMfSrtVMfIDVUCQ5KOfkDXGz5REo3jS9iwhFq1gChd243i5K1OHTmOO6Fks8akstlM-gx7s6j1iNrMI75NX01/s320/2018-06-19_0001.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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If you look closely you can (almost) see my anniversary on the tail (01/01), a pair of dots that represent me being one of three, with the other two dots representing my two sisters and my two BFFs. Each direction is one of the children's initials - W, K, M, and S - and eventually I hope to complete a "bracelet" around my wrist with the names or initials of my niece(s) and nephew(s) and (one day if I am lucky) some grandchildren, too. I got this symbol my wrist because a) it is most easily visible there and b) I can bring it closest to my heart.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8rJ6gkYs86su0hZ4AoGrgZx8dYhWxEM_WhC9ocgXJI5IFiAcP1mktfuf73SGreI-2iRsuQy492OGwGC_N3mlZoMcLilpPxd46b-GG6NRV4mjwXhQir0qEn22OjhP5KCV499yWVq-EiQuX/s1600/22254848_10159424611700430_3539876129182438151_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8rJ6gkYs86su0hZ4AoGrgZx8dYhWxEM_WhC9ocgXJI5IFiAcP1mktfuf73SGreI-2iRsuQy492OGwGC_N3mlZoMcLilpPxd46b-GG6NRV4mjwXhQir0qEn22OjhP5KCV499yWVq-EiQuX/s400/22254848_10159424611700430_3539876129182438151_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photocred http://www.entwined-weddings.com/</td></tr>
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Figure 4 is a sewing machine. (Have I ever mentioned how much I love vintage patterns?)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Ll8rsWj33fJMbaFkQGs9jCfaxT86RitdQMAnPJiQpggXFao2oQzvCzRQ0IN_FAKvodvruRfOZyKVn-7MGCkQ6F2MZ4dtF-Q8CMWwsRmFkIpO7jBiS6QZtr0SNhPAljVKT7hR7cxfuhQ6/s1600/2018-06-19_0010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Ll8rsWj33fJMbaFkQGs9jCfaxT86RitdQMAnPJiQpggXFao2oQzvCzRQ0IN_FAKvodvruRfOZyKVn-7MGCkQ6F2MZ4dtF-Q8CMWwsRmFkIpO7jBiS6QZtr0SNhPAljVKT7hR7cxfuhQ6/s320/2018-06-19_0010.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I started sewing when I was very young - by the age of 8 or 9 I had begun to sew entire wardrobes for my Barbies and babies out of old sheets and rags. When I was 10, my stepmom helped me sew my own Cabbage Patch Kid doll, which I would later gift to a little girl in the hospital who had been accidentally shot in the eye with a pellet gun by her brother. No one had come to visit her on Christmas Day, and since I had gotten a real Cabbage Patch I felt like she should have the one I made. Ironically, I was in the hospital after getting a sewing needle surgically removed from under my kneecap.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdBr4sKd2i_ElFBOYGVpzQgtTe8wVsatT32DCQi8w1FGrQyHeaMYSHO6r3-qwnE2my3PXm-IEOI2pwkkWJAxoD-yAmsxwk2bHkvoIlarIE2phCKbqI7GSiccmpHZcGgGvZo9sxYOYPYLdY/s1600/2018-06-19_0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="891" data-original-width="799" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdBr4sKd2i_ElFBOYGVpzQgtTe8wVsatT32DCQi8w1FGrQyHeaMYSHO6r3-qwnE2my3PXm-IEOI2pwkkWJAxoD-yAmsxwk2bHkvoIlarIE2phCKbqI7GSiccmpHZcGgGvZo9sxYOYPYLdY/s320/2018-06-19_0002.jpg" width="286" /></a></div>
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Over the years I continued to sew - I moved from doll clothing to modifying my own clothing, to following patterns, and from there to designing and pattern-making for myself. At one time, I fancied I might go to school to be a fashion designer, but I just wanted to create not compete. My projects evolved from grad gowns to wedding gowns, then to crib sets and quilts and baby clothes, then dog clothes and (of course!) a rather epic run of Halloween costumes, if I do say so myself. This was the 20s-inspired dress I sewed for my vow renewal in 2015.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeBmUXSwpoN0WT1xjPJXzeIpA4kuxdsKWwq6LqCOG3cHH2tGAb-omDFbgOjOmxzNEABBPPOyVl1tUjmoEraSSwqJDsTlteKpVL50pIkReODkzzZ-iuEpAWTS2wkhjvSDYPVoDio7lymp0Q/s1600/2018-06-19_0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1060" data-original-width="801" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeBmUXSwpoN0WT1xjPJXzeIpA4kuxdsKWwq6LqCOG3cHH2tGAb-omDFbgOjOmxzNEABBPPOyVl1tUjmoEraSSwqJDsTlteKpVL50pIkReODkzzZ-iuEpAWTS2wkhjvSDYPVoDio7lymp0Q/s320/2018-06-19_0003.jpg" width="241" /></a></div>
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Recently, my youngest daughter has started letting me design and sew a few pieces for her. This pleases me greatly. I doubt I am done sewing anytime soon.<br />
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Figure 3 is a typewriter. I happen to own 2 manual typewriters. The first one is a post-WWII antique Continental gifted to me by a beloved friend who purchased it in Germany. I was told that it was manufactured at a time when orthography reform was affecting keyboard layouts in typewriter design, and the placement of the <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">ß</span> was undetermined.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifxNVkx9XH36wj793KmlLZ861LzwYk00R1pLeBoxY-m8uyBzWNMuD4nCnHi6_ILa8U7LdEldje4qkq_Xm23NkJpO7jcH2-nrBkCkq_iuFZe06PCrZvms9388PmDeiuqCIHAB9DZT3wFY19/s1600/unnamed-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifxNVkx9XH36wj793KmlLZ861LzwYk00R1pLeBoxY-m8uyBzWNMuD4nCnHi6_ILa8U7LdEldje4qkq_Xm23NkJpO7jcH2-nrBkCkq_iuFZe06PCrZvms9388PmDeiuqCIHAB9DZT3wFY19/s400/unnamed-3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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The other is a French-English typewriter, gifted to me by a friend of my son's last Christmas. While I do most of my writing on a keyboard with a computer screen, the typewriter was not only more aesthetically pleasing by more indicative of when I first fell in love with writing, which was right around the time we were asked to write 5- and 10-page instead of 1 page stories and reports.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv0-NcjsRYMRqL628xj6ws8tHB82ReFOvgWcWdj7fRF5GOVJxxPsamnsoYAmHZ6cr2Bsh9sfVeafFzpelNkmQutWdMyuojQNSSPsKjv8eIidSYdoW9XGNrvUT_VdoEkSi2K69_OZj7w0wk/s1600/2018-06-19_0006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="605" data-original-width="800" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv0-NcjsRYMRqL628xj6ws8tHB82ReFOvgWcWdj7fRF5GOVJxxPsamnsoYAmHZ6cr2Bsh9sfVeafFzpelNkmQutWdMyuojQNSSPsKjv8eIidSYdoW9XGNrvUT_VdoEkSi2K69_OZj7w0wk/s400/2018-06-19_0006.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Most of my published writing at this time is personal, political or professional. There's my blogging - my own, as well as a guest- and ghost-writing for other blogs. I've had a handful of poems, letters, and essays published in various school anthologies and several letters to the editor published in local papers over the years. I get excited to do research papers and have been asked to submit some of them for publication before, but I always manage to miss the deadlines. I journal on pretty much a daily basis. I also play grotesque amounts of Scrabble and collect dictionaries and thesauruses. In the next 2 years or so I hope to add authoring one fiction and one non-fiction book thematically linked to the degree I have been working on to my list of writing accomplishments.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht4p8yT1xNpL9IVrop0y9NxQXPxnOI7CSaf8YbC1Q2BYVdDOdrJVd3YTUGJD_-skoJh2LBiPK00n5JI0zq3jPnm7YWwIrGbIVR64I_mNr4-CszjLtSRX0A5UCu620fwDHJZakgAvc0m627/s1600/Keep-Calm-and-Write-On-e1480037186709.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="535" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht4p8yT1xNpL9IVrop0y9NxQXPxnOI7CSaf8YbC1Q2BYVdDOdrJVd3YTUGJD_-skoJh2LBiPK00n5JI0zq3jPnm7YWwIrGbIVR64I_mNr4-CszjLtSRX0A5UCu620fwDHJZakgAvc0m627/s320/Keep-Calm-and-Write-On-e1480037186709.jpg" width="267" /></a></div>
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Figure 2, the camera, isn't a depiction of my very first camera. My very first was actually a Kodak Instamatic X-15, a gift I received from my father 4 days after my 8th birthday.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBn7kFcf1J5nGCRcW9gL7dMk18_M41yySrAxO9ZADZHbAwhx8-5NCXOtRre-WPxCqj4E_QXvF_qNbE24ciCBNgXmViKsNqxx9HhJkdu4LLdgRJAUKWONPQo1__GRsBS8YCbP8ZfXKE2QNa/s1600/832c880d4c249aa06abd1b41bedfa3b8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="944" data-original-width="960" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBn7kFcf1J5nGCRcW9gL7dMk18_M41yySrAxO9ZADZHbAwhx8-5NCXOtRre-WPxCqj4E_QXvF_qNbE24ciCBNgXmViKsNqxx9HhJkdu4LLdgRJAUKWONPQo1__GRsBS8YCbP8ZfXKE2QNa/s320/832c880d4c249aa06abd1b41bedfa3b8.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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No, this tattoo is of my first SLR - a Pentax K1000 wearing a 50mm f1.4. This kit was used by pretty much every student required to learn how to operate a manual film camera from 1976 to the end of the 1990s because it was a) cheap and b) practically indestructible - you could use a 1981 K1000 in 1997 and see no meaningful difference in design or functionality.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTyPz0485exVpAldE2qUl4hgmI4Ntxvq_V_lVg_0tOqgoQh2x_T7MT-W1z6DacEX_VuMfSXqOXqt8sBhb1xKzdaXvQkK8PEv1yXfLxKvsJ_aTcAl1qZmnP0XEofVQgmcTo1EVkcMiTL5JT/s1600/IMG_0390.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="514" data-original-width="800" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTyPz0485exVpAldE2qUl4hgmI4Ntxvq_V_lVg_0tOqgoQh2x_T7MT-W1z6DacEX_VuMfSXqOXqt8sBhb1xKzdaXvQkK8PEv1yXfLxKvsJ_aTcAl1qZmnP0XEofVQgmcTo1EVkcMiTL5JT/s320/IMG_0390.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">someone else drew this sweet ass K1000</td></tr>
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While I had always enjoyed photography and owned some kind of camera, acquiring the Pentax K1000 allowed me to start mastering the craft and eventually lead me to my current career. I think the significance of its inclusion is obvious enough that I need not waste a tonne of words waxing poetic about my love of photography.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVm9QONJBXcRVswB2-z3YC-95r62537CQr_N2w4cuUkUOTAtiObJb7YsNYrMQUPtZJx8LX5wMRVZOwKQ2Pc2xWZ0lkn-F89PxvqDxBveLVt4i16ylVNMNhp1aQw4WP-ZkR45Ig_Y_BOalx/s1600/IMG_0393.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="181" data-original-width="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVm9QONJBXcRVswB2-z3YC-95r62537CQr_N2w4cuUkUOTAtiObJb7YsNYrMQUPtZJx8LX5wMRVZOwKQ2Pc2xWZ0lkn-F89PxvqDxBveLVt4i16ylVNMNhp1aQw4WP-ZkR45Ig_Y_BOalx/s1600/IMG_0393.jpg" /></a></div>
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Figure 1 is obviously a bike, and I've had a few questions why this and not my camera sits in the top spot. I got my first bike when I was about 7. I remember it well - it was an orange bike with long, tall "chopper" handlebars, black grips and a black banana seat that comfortably fit two. Coaster brakes, no gears. It was a gift from a family friend who worked for the city's trash collection - he had pulled it out of the dump, cleaned it up, given it a good oiling, and from the moment I could ride, it felt like freedom.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYQufLizumUimIoHKHUjMMqewC5BUaqzTM3HINHUYMqo0EiFrsy3M5KoDI2liNQAFu6btt-6X3y57hqEWhT5mgwFzKvt8sXZAIQyvFvtJeCfSshEo_NgDyl8SB1dkWdXvC-47kwja4xrnI/s1600/IMG_1479.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYQufLizumUimIoHKHUjMMqewC5BUaqzTM3HINHUYMqo0EiFrsy3M5KoDI2liNQAFu6btt-6X3y57hqEWhT5mgwFzKvt8sXZAIQyvFvtJeCfSshEo_NgDyl8SB1dkWdXvC-47kwja4xrnI/s320/IMG_1479.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I have countless memories of travelling somewhere in the saddle of a bike - they whir and click through a projector wheel in my mind, bringing me both great pleasure and great pain. Repeatedly wearing the toes out of my brown Mary Jane shoes by dragging my toes on the asphalt instead of backpedaling. Riding down the hill at the playground. Racing to the store to buy Pepsi for the two young wheelchair-stricken men with muscular dystrophy that my mother was a employed as caregiver to back then. I couldn't possibly have known their days were numbered - I guess I imagined their eyeglasses would always have bubbles of sticky syrup needing to be cleaned from the lenses, and urine bottles - dangerously full - needing to be taken to the toilet.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwxv-YaHNh-qg8-YvSz2T8-msoRKwXT2xjC3UV8fDFY9Qc0y_WLAUlfwT7cMKj1bx0jqP89xtgO4fHxoeYqdHtzIzp0BtgTCGCuPb1Tbp4Rmy39LkOmeZLf5Aglo_QKnK7W4sjuXeB905l/s1600/41CURVxn1NL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwxv-YaHNh-qg8-YvSz2T8-msoRKwXT2xjC3UV8fDFY9Qc0y_WLAUlfwT7cMKj1bx0jqP89xtgO4fHxoeYqdHtzIzp0BtgTCGCuPb1Tbp4Rmy39LkOmeZLf5Aglo_QKnK7W4sjuXeB905l/s320/41CURVxn1NL.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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As I grew older, the bike became more and more functional. It was my primary source of transportation to and from school and eventually to and from work, starting as far back as my first babysitting gigs. Later, when I couldn't afford to buy a bus pass or put gas in the car, the bike became a reliable fall-back. One of my first purchases upon learning I was pregnant with my first child was a bike seat and infant helmet, which sat in a closet waiting long before he was born. As the years moved on, I carted all of the kids around with any number of baby seats, tag-alongs and trailers. I even bought an adult trailer so I could share the sheer joy of bike transportation with my handicapped sister.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnEkO34LZ_2DCAq201uZUd8Lr8zOXZc0FEbE6MGCRqVuvfafFpu9S0Pjpr0gf_zqoAVlR3fnlaGghBVvYK4jLO2HjCPzmrLxVdAVJ9shizwiZoBxGC7W4BpsT_TQeyYXvVTAIspaGYM8kQ/s1600/HX_photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnEkO34LZ_2DCAq201uZUd8Lr8zOXZc0FEbE6MGCRqVuvfafFpu9S0Pjpr0gf_zqoAVlR3fnlaGghBVvYK4jLO2HjCPzmrLxVdAVJ9shizwiZoBxGC7W4BpsT_TQeyYXvVTAIspaGYM8kQ/s320/HX_photo.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">https://www.wicycle.com/</td></tr>
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I remember, too, some sad and scary times - two of my bikes being stolen, riding home after a bad date and wishing I could erase it, being yelled at to get off the road, being forced into the gravel or snowbank, and having things thrown at me by angry truck drivers who I would pass a block later because they were stuck in traffic and I was not. I remember knowing that if I did not get on my bike and go to work, I would be sleeping in the street because rent was not going to pay itself. I remember the feeling of going over my handlebars or having the tires go out from under me and being winded, scraped, bruised, and scarred, and knowing I had to get back up and keep going because kids needed to be picked up from daycare, fed, put to bed.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4KofIgyq30qy9jDYiimA1KoF_Yu8RfWeBDnRkXIYUUEdN0m6cedTSoblEFr3gA9ckT_KLB9MiLEKuM8h0Drblz79sIxlbSeo4o-_gJKW-K8hCQkXGjcHo03uOgOvPqCAr6FeuowAU6J4c/s1600/2018-06-19_0004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="536" data-original-width="800" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4KofIgyq30qy9jDYiimA1KoF_Yu8RfWeBDnRkXIYUUEdN0m6cedTSoblEFr3gA9ckT_KLB9MiLEKuM8h0Drblz79sIxlbSeo4o-_gJKW-K8hCQkXGjcHo03uOgOvPqCAr6FeuowAU6J4c/s320/2018-06-19_0004.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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For 12 years now I have worked at the University, and my primary source of transportation, year round, is my bike. Come rain, shine, snow or sleet, I am out there pedalling my ass to work. My initial snarky reply to why I ride a bike instead of driving is because I refuse to pay for parking (which indeed factors in) and there are obvious health benefits, but the truth is I ride because I love it. I need it. It is meditation, where pedalling churns my anxiety and frustration into sprints of clarity and joy. Riding my bike is a metaphor for my need to keep moving in order to stay balanced.<br />
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While I was unsure if my decision to leave early would be misinterpreted as rash, I did know that creating space for all of us - physical and emotional - felt right. I felt guilty to stay, guilty to leave, torn between self-preservation and self-respect, feeling both cornered and stranded. Knowing that it would not have mattered which side of the ocean I was on how utterly useless I would remain, I felt like the only way I could find equilibrium amidst the turmoil was to be in motion. It makes perfect sense to me that right then, every fibre in me just wanted to be on a &#$&^#$% bike.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq0XY1oCM_cJrucnK_hY2SkRV4hHE1Znj7pmGKvRgiHmWs-y3FKDyur5trwuYrZdEKQYUqfp0JcMQ0hnJ6v5XVrKVXnFHUF1citRgUQv_UyQ-QWlfBhOI012bIs-Tx9k6oxdmpOlf5IhZ7/s1600/insp0221_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="450" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq0XY1oCM_cJrucnK_hY2SkRV4hHE1Znj7pmGKvRgiHmWs-y3FKDyur5trwuYrZdEKQYUqfp0JcMQ0hnJ6v5XVrKVXnFHUF1citRgUQv_UyQ-QWlfBhOI012bIs-Tx9k6oxdmpOlf5IhZ7/s320/insp0221_01.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I expect it will be several weeks (or perhaps months) before grief will finish taking its toll on either individual, and I imagine once the dust settles I will need to ask forgiveness of one while granting it to the other. In the meantime, you will find me keeping it all in balance from the saddle of my bike.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8632340673162795250.post-72700541931146120852018-06-01T15:53:00.000-06:002019-04-13T17:41:57.589-06:00babies and blossoms and buggies v2.0<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
There's just something about a fresh spring day with fresh spring flowers and a fresh spring baby. Little A has certainly put some meat on her bones since <a href="https://hopewallsphotography.blogspot.com/2018/01/sparkly-baby-in-new-home-studio.html" target="_blank">this shoot in January</a>, and she'd mastered the art of smiles!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIcTABepEIAUttTSbHVg9dPS5xvl8uXfAa7VOxNT0WBm4pgcBtrgeNE-uOd8jSHGnKdbM4S-o_7suXVrqYxh3D4zjThXXb_77x-XY4qwwX4z298yFJtjlWWlZ4YIWUq0MGA73yGIw1PlWk/s1600/2018-06-07_0326.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1419" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIcTABepEIAUttTSbHVg9dPS5xvl8uXfAa7VOxNT0WBm4pgcBtrgeNE-uOd8jSHGnKdbM4S-o_7suXVrqYxh3D4zjThXXb_77x-XY4qwwX4z298yFJtjlWWlZ4YIWUq0MGA73yGIw1PlWk/s400/2018-06-07_0326.jpg" width="353" /></a></div>
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Put some siblings, delicious sunlight, and a pram in the mix and it's basically heaven.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMvr5OhMqjqRn3azuIHk3YteYXhjLS_Zkn1DL_BhEUPFokAweZ7zL3QagLJKybItwRJpgB0_l-6VP1om6e11pSSQkwoqbPlceOFLVDv6w1fWf_5tq2onDOJnRJ0rfiqzD8YAMYo022RQkS/s1600/2018-06-07_0327.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1335" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMvr5OhMqjqRn3azuIHk3YteYXhjLS_Zkn1DL_BhEUPFokAweZ7zL3QagLJKybItwRJpgB0_l-6VP1om6e11pSSQkwoqbPlceOFLVDv6w1fWf_5tq2onDOJnRJ0rfiqzD8YAMYo022RQkS/s400/2018-06-07_0327.jpg" width="331" /></a></div>
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Siblings feel an need to take care of one another, even if from time to time they squabble.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitgM-gDBU63gCfSMuWLgSRH8_SjJexNAAGLzFH0l_IlKRk4xJ5NLif2BayzFEAV4FO8STkEBcDfmxixPXig4afvY139uEbvIFQdLhZIw-y-UE_NuNRMmkoJU40tP7P_6HMizdkH_qPRZ8J/s1600/2018-06-07_0328.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1598" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitgM-gDBU63gCfSMuWLgSRH8_SjJexNAAGLzFH0l_IlKRk4xJ5NLif2BayzFEAV4FO8STkEBcDfmxixPXig4afvY139uEbvIFQdLhZIw-y-UE_NuNRMmkoJU40tP7P_6HMizdkH_qPRZ8J/s400/2018-06-07_0328.jpg" width="396" /></a></div>
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This baby has two amazing siblings who basically live to see her happy.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU5H1rImoXv0tmpCowGY86OTvb2yIv67wNxQCgALFpu5PgGfRrt_Ocji08J25OYeKYfjlgaBLpUdxbrkVwpt08u_NtiRDMz351TtfNXNtF-jiKyCXr2OXr32YQeF_AHIIPx4yWRaTP-zNu/s1600/2018-06-07_0329.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1133" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU5H1rImoXv0tmpCowGY86OTvb2yIv67wNxQCgALFpu5PgGfRrt_Ocji08J25OYeKYfjlgaBLpUdxbrkVwpt08u_NtiRDMz351TtfNXNtF-jiKyCXr2OXr32YQeF_AHIIPx4yWRaTP-zNu/s640/2018-06-07_0329.jpg" width="450" /></a></div>
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Lucky baby, no?</div>
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Thank you again Mom and Dad for answering my call. Next up: beach pics, right?!</div>
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