The Perfect Photo (or two)

It was a beautiful day. The blossoms were in full bloom. Tourists in great moods thronged to the tidal basin. Everyone smiled. I managed to hop the metro with no problems, stroll around D.C. like a pro, and even have an unexpected lunch with my husband.

But mostly it was just me and my camera.

So here are just a few of my favorites from the day.

Happy spring!

Chasing the perfect photo

It's that magical time in Washington D.C. The cherry blossoms are in bloom. For only a few days, gorgeous pink and white blossoms on trees a hundred years old color the city. In a breath, they are gone.

Tomorrow, I am forsaking everything else of importance: my writing, an impending birthday party, Easter preparations, house cleaning, a laundry basket full of clean clothes that need folding. Tomorrow I am hopping on the metro at the rise of the sun and spending the day chasing the perfect photo.

If I get it, I'll post it tomorrow. If not, I'll be weeping in my computer. Either way, I'll be back tomorrow, sore feet and all.

A Bonus Friday Post!

well, it's not all books and reading and writing and weather around here. I actually have a family, too, with very busy and important lives of their own, which I am sometimes invited to join in on. Especially if it involves school.

My son has been working on a science fair project for almost four months now. My part was relegated to growing and keeping the plants alive until the project began (no small feat, let me tell you), making sure the computer didn't implode with all his data on it (and to retrieve lost data when said computer suddenly decided to randomly shut down), and to make sure he wasn't gluing information onto the display board until all of it was laid out.

So this week it was due, and yesterday the judges came through all Meet-The-Robinsons-like and when we were finally allowed in, there it was:

The big blue ribbon.




We are so proud of him. And awfully glad it over!!

On another note, while the science fair was going on, we got to go visit the rest of the kids' classrooms, where my youngest showed us what she is doing in kindergarten. This week they made a list of what their parents do for a job.

It may be hard to see the list, but there are the typical jobs here: doctor, soldier, helicopter pilot, construction worker, airport worker, teacher, hair cutter, nurse....

What did my youngest say her dad does? He's a paper signer!

Oh my! We laughed so hard we almost peed our pants!




Reminds me of the story about me when I was two and telling everyone my dad worked with animals for a living. Apparently he came home from work everyday saying the office was a zoo.

Have a great weekend!

It's Friday; It's a Good Thing

I took a break from the rush of life today to sit and read a completely fun book. I haven't seen the movie, so it was all fresh to me. I expected to read it as I ate lunch, since you bloggers out there were pretty quiet today. I ended up reading the whole thing.

There was part at the end that reminded me both of my recent blogging about emotions and also about what the good things are in life.

Here is a section from Ann Brashares' Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants:

"Maybe happiness didn't have to be about the big, sweeping circumstances, about having everything in your life in place. Maybe it was about stringing together a bunch of small pleasures. Wearing slippers and watching the Miss Universe contest. Eating a brownie with vanilla ice cream.... Maybe happiness was just a matter of the little upticks - the traffic signal that said 'walk' the second you got there - and downticks - the itchy tag at the back of your collar - that happened to every person in the course of a day. Maybe everybody had the same allotted measure of happiness within each day."

Maybe the little happinesses in a day equal one big sweeping happiness.

So today, in the spirit of It's a Good Thing, I'm counting the little happinesses, and waiting for that big sweeping one that is sure to come along at some point in time. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but someday. Maybe not in the way I hope it is coming, but something grand all the same.

A few from just today:

1. Time tonight to finally relax a little with a glass of wine

2. Kids that I absolutely adore. I am more in love with them every day.

3. A school event that made us all smile. Friends we run into and talk so long with that we don't get to every room we should.

4. Ice cream out on a school night. Celebrating just life.

5. Getting through the Tracy Anderson exercise without once dropping my arms or legs.

6. Daffodils.

7. Another few good pages on the new manuscript. The feeling like it still might work.

8. A roaring fire and cold rain outside. Perfect for writing. And curling up on the couch with a good book.

9. A writing group I adore. I so, so adore. Even on days like today when we hardly write back and forth, just knowing they are there sometimes - like today - is all that keeps me going.

10. New CDs. I have four new CDs - a treat for me. Every day is a new favorite song. Today's? David Cook's Permanence.

What are some of your small happinesses?

It's a Roller Coaster - You Getting On and Riding?

"The only test we should use to allow a particular emotion to run its course in our lives is to examine what the final outcome of that emotion will be. Think it through to its logical conclusion, and if the outcome is something that God would condemn, put a stop to it immediately But if it is an emotion that has been kindled by the Spirit of God and you don't allow it to have its way in your life, it will cause a reaction on a lower level than God intended." Oswald Chambers

Doubt Depression Frustration Despair

I've been getting these a lot lately. I'm pretty sure nothing good comes of those, so why do I let them take hold of me sometimes?

Lately, though, I've started feeling little bits of hope here and there, too. When I get a new request for my manuscript. When I get great praise for my writing. When I drop another query and 50 pages in the mailbox. When I hear a song that reminds me of what I felt last summer as I was bringing this book to a close.

And then I crush that feeling. I don't want to feel it, because feeling hope and excitement makes the fall so much harder.

A friend gave this quote to me today. It's made me really think about what I do with emotions, and why I let the bad ones simmer, and the good ones I kill off. Really, what use is that?

The depression and doubt lead to nothing good. Ever.

Hope will eventually lead to something good. Even if it takes a while.

I'm not quite there yet. But I'm working on it.

Stupidity or Bravery? I'm not making that call.

Agent Jessica Faust wrote a post today about how she began making her dreams come true. It's got me thinking about bravery, and taking chances, and what kind of person am I.

I'd like to think I am that kind of person. The kind who takes chances and risks and sets out on adventures. I'm not sure if I actually am that person, but I want to be that kind of person. It's the reason I chose to go to an out of state university when there were plenty of in-state universities and private colleges I could have gone to - but were crowded with people I knew.

It was the reason that, when I was 21 and graduating college and looking for a teaching job, I thought to myself, "This is the chance to break out and go somewhere completely different." I wanted badly to go overseas, but the schools overseas required two years of experience, so I resigned myself to getting those two years under my belt in the most un-east-coast-like place I could find.

In January of 1992 I packed my Toyota Tercel to the hilt with everything in the world I owned and drove from Virginia to Texas to take a job in a state I didn't hardly know a soul. As it turned out, I didn't really know the food or culture or language either. Or the music. Or the fashion.

It only took a few weeks to begin to feel like I had made a huge mistake. I hated teaching - especially since I stepped in to take over another teacher's class who clearly had spent half a year not teaching. I hated my lonely apartment. I felt trapped by my less than livable wage salary ($812 a month, $503 of which went to the rent). To call it homesickness wouldn't even come close. But I'd made a commitment, and I determined to stick with it at least until summer.

By summer, I'd made a few friends, including the man I would later marry. I'd bought a pair of Justin Ropers, fallen in love with Tex Mex food, and could say y'all casually as well as the next guy. I was vastly afraid of looking like a failure, so I signed up for another year, determined to really give it a go before quitting.

And it turned out that having a class from the beginning was a far different cry than taking over someone else's. And I loved it. And slowly, that place became home.

My parents love to tell the story of how I packed everything in my car and drove across country to a place I didn't know. They think I'm brave. In truth, maybe I was more stupid than brave. But I look at that now and think, is that going to be the main act of courage in my life?

When I decided to write and pursue publishing, that felt brave. Even braver - telling people that I was doing it. But I won't lie. Sometimes I wonder if I am more stupid than brave. Is it only bravery when it actually works out? I wonder if I am wasting my time pursuing a dream that may not be meant to be. How much persistence is important, and how much is just plain desperation going nowhere?