Photo Challenge Day 2 (What I Wore) AND A Bit About Camera Settings

Today our weather has returned to a normal Pacific Northwest winter -- cool, wet, gray and stormy.  A perfect day to stay inside!  And it's a good thing, too -- now that I've decided to do a 30 Day Photo Challenge and go through 31 Days to a Better Photo, there's plenty to learn!

Today's photo challenge: a picture of what I wore.  Now I could bore or shock or frighten you by taking a picture of my outfit, but I don't want to do that until I'm sure we're good friends.  You might not want to know that I start every day in sweats and don't change until after I exercise (whenever that may be on a given day), or that on days like today my outfits are really dull, even a bit sloppy, because I'm not planning to go anywhere.  Add to that the fat that I chose to wear a white fleece vest today and Nora, one of our black cats, has decided to add her own magical touches to my wardrobe and you have a runway model's worst nightmare come to life. Of course I can't disregard fashion entirely, and so in an attempt to bring a bit of whimsy to my outfit I've donned a headband with a butterfly (my own creation, thank you), which you will see in some of the following pictures.

If, that is, you choose to read through this entire long and potentially rather boring post.  You see, today's lesson, step two in getting a better photo, was to read through the camera's owner's manual.  Which I did.  Sort of.  I at least read most of the good bits.  And I learned that our camera came with an official owner's manual and two unofficial tips books (the one on flash a bit of a pitch to buy an external flash -- and they almost have me convinced to do it!).

I spent a while reading through the main manual and taking pictures, recording adjustments as I made them.  You are warned -- you'll be faced with a bazillion shots of the same thing if you choose to continue reading.  All of it is from the desk in my craft room because, as I said earlier, it's a dreary winter day today and so we're stuck inside.

The camera has two more "creative" settings that Honey and I are trying to learn: AV (Aperture Priority) and TV (Shutter Priority).  We'll examine both today.  

Picture 1 -- TV with the autofocus adjusted manually to center over the frame instead of in the center of the photograph.

Picture 2 -- TV with the autofocus on automatic (center of the shot)

Picture 3 -- TV with the "picture style" (image effects) set to portrait (as opposed to standard). Portrait is supposed to be good for close-ups to make the skin look better. (Good! I need that!)

Picture 4 -- TV, picture style set to standard, which is supposed to keep everything crisp/vivid.

Picture 5 -- TV with the picture style set to "landscape," which makes blues and greens more vivid.  I am sure this would be more noticeable in an actual landscape -- somehow using the tissue box just isn't the same, even if that box does have leaves on it.  I can't see any difference here, can you?

Picture 6 -- TV with a picture style set to neutral. This setting is supposed to be for those who want more subdued tones in photos so that they can manipulate the image on the computer.  I think it's safe to say I'll be staying clear of this particular setting for a while.

Picture 7 -- TV with a picture style set to "faithful," which I guess creates a dull color scheme, also for manipulating photos on the computer.  Guess I'll stay away from this setting, too, for the time being.

Picture 8 -- TV with a photo style setting of "monochrome."  Black and white!  I may use this!

Okay, enough with the desk.  That's a bit boring, right?  Let's move on to looking at a few more settings on the camera.

I like the TV setting (shutter priority) because I can control the shutter speed myself.  This is very important when trying to take pictures in uncontrolled lighting.  It's amazing the difference shutter speed can make!

Picture 9 -- TV, shutter speed 1/80. Not bad for a fairly dark room!

Picture 10 -- TV, shutter speed 1/325 -- yikes that's dark!  So I guess on really bright days it would be good to increase the shutter speed to let less light into the photo.

I switched to AV (aperture priority) mode to try that.  This allows the photographer to control the f-stop on photos, which is useful when you want to set the depth of your field.  For example, if I was trying to take a picture of Honey on a warf and wanted boats in the background to be blurry, I could do that by increasing the f-stop number.  At least I think that's how it works.  Right now that's not very clear because of the setting I used today.  Guess I'll have to play around with this a bit more.

Photo 11 -- AV, f/20. Yikes that's blurry!  Maybe taking photos using a mirror is confusing the camera?

Photo 12 -- AV, f/20 with a makeshift "tripod" (Dawn of the Dreadfuls book on CD -- a Christmas present I'm looking forward to consuming). That's better!  Maybe we do need a tripod after all?  But who wants to carry such a thing??

Picture 13 -- AV, f/3.5 -- the lowest f-stop setting on the camera. It's fairly clear (considering I'm holding the camera in my shaky hands instead of using a tripod) and you can see that I am in focus and the wall (about six feet behind me) is blurry.

Picture 14 -- AV, f/20 with a tripod -- still a bit blurry.

Picture 15 -- AV, f/14, with flash.  This is a result of me thinking "I wonder if a flash would make it more clear because then the camera wouldn't be fighting for light."  As you can see from my first attempt, I was mistaken in my thinking.

Picture 16 -- AV, f/5, with flash.  I discovered that the f-stop's lowest setting when using the flash is f/5 instead of f/3.5.  I wonder why...?

As you can see, I have plenty more to learn.  Good thing it's just the start of the month!

Day 30: Someone I Miss

**This post is long and probably not very interesting, so please do not feel compelled to read it!**

This is the last post in my original Thirty Day Challenge.  Yes, I realize it's over a month late.  It's taken a long time to finish this, probably because every time I thought about the thirtieth day's task I wanted to put it off, I wanted to ignore it.  The task is to find a picture of someone I miss.

Now there are many people that I miss.  I've talked about how I miss my grandparents, and there are a number of friends and family members that have passed away over the years and whom I miss very dearly.  Yet every time I thought about this task, I thought of one person in particular.  We'll call her BetsyLou, which was what my grandfather, Bumpy, used to call her when she and my sister were running and dancing all over the place and generally being adorable little imps.

My family has known BestyLou since she was four or five years old; her family was one of the first that we met when we moved to the Pacific Northwest.  BetsyLou and my sister were best friends.  I considered her a little sister, her family an extension of my own.  I lived with them for a couple months before I was married years ago.  I babysat the youngest in that family when she was a screaming infant and now she is a beautiful college student.  In fact, I babysat BetsyLou and all of her siblings.  Our families had holidays together.  They were supportive when the Crazymaker and the A$$*&^% went through a divorce, their grandmother and my grandmother were friends.  In short, I just assumed that that was the way it would always be.

You know what they say about assumptions.

A couple years ago, BetsyLou and I started getting together and being more friends than siblings.  She had gone through a rough time, including a failed marriage, and she was starting off on a path of discovery.  That was something to which I could relate.  And so we would meet for coffee and chat.  We talked about our vision for the future, for education.  We talked about the writing that we were doing, each of us hoping to one day be a novelist, a writer.  We talked about family and memories and hurt and healing.  I loved our conversations.

As part of the family, BetsyLou was always included when out of town family, like Thin Man and Beard Boy, would visit.  She already hung out with a few other brothers on a pretty regular basis and she seemed to enjoy the time spent.  This picture was from a visit with Thin Man and Beard Boy about a year before Thin Man's deployment.

Don't they look happy?  They were all goofing off and had a great time.  I loved having all of them in my house.

Fast forward a bit.

We had a large family Christmas here in 2009.  BetsyLou spent much of the time with me and my family.  In January and February we met together as was our habit, and in March we saw each other at the beginning of the month for a brother's birthday bash.  Then that was it.  I called once or twice and left a Facebook message but didn't get a response.  I thought "Oh, she must be busy" and since I was hired at a new job, I was busy too.  I let it go.  Some brothers tried to call to get her to hang out with them, but they also didn't get much of a response.  They let it go, too.

In May 2010, Thin Man arrived on his last visit before his deployment with the Marines.  He called repeatedly, sent texts, and even once went to BetsyLou's house to deliver a gift, but she did not pick up the phone.  Eventually, she sent a message saying that she was going to her finance's house for dinner and so couldn't see Thin Man...at all. The whole week he was here.

Wait, back up. Fiance?  Yes, fiance.  She started dating a boy -- yes, I'll say boy because he was much younger, I found out through the grapevine, a former student of hers -- in March, around the time of the birthday bash.  She didn't let any of us know, just ignored us.  By May they were engaged and by August they were married.

I was not invited to the wedding.  Neither were most of my brothers and one sister.  My other sister and mother were invited.  I didn't even really know about the wedding until my sister called and asked to stay with me for that weekend, since she was flying up from California. (Side note: I found out not too long ago that another friend was also inexplicably excluded from the guest list. That made me wonder even more about what is/was going on.)

From May through that time in August, I was really hurt.  I tried a couple more times to contact BetsyLou without success.  I finally wrote a letter to her and sent it in August.  Before I mailed the letter I had two people (one a psychologist, one who is just really insightful) whom I trust read it to make sure that I was clear and loving.  Two weeks later I -- and the rest of my family -- received an e-mail response.  Let me say that I did not send the letter to anyone besides BetsyLou.  Honey knew that I was sending a letter, the two readers knew (but were detached from the situation), but that's it.  I figured it was between me and BetsyLou.  But her response was sent to everyone in my family -- including The Teenager for whatever reason -- and it was filled with more vitriol and personal attacks than I've ever received in one place.  The sad thing was that I understood she was angry, I had a feeling that she probably would be, but she left no room to talk and work things out.  I sent a two line response, which basically said that I was sorry that I hurt her and that I would like to talk and work things out if she was open to that, and I let it go.

Needless to say, I have not seen or heard from her again.  She and my sister -- and the rest of the family -- are Facebook friends.  She and my sister talk.  But I am cut off completely.

I spent a long time struggling with the issue of whether or not to post the letter and her response.  Part of me wants to know what other people, those who are not connected, think.  I'm sure that some of that comes from the desire for some vindication, although there is also a small voice that says maybe I really am a bitch and this would unmask that reality.  Another inner voice says that no, this is private, maybe it should just stay that way.  And so for now I won't post the letters.  But maybe one day I'll change my mind.  And maybe one day I'll respond to the hurt.  For now, I'll just say that I am still saddened by the turn of events and I really, really wish that things were different.  I miss the way things were.

Most of all, I am sad about the way that things turned out.  I try to be a very reflective person and I am open to examining my mistakes in the hopes that I'll improve my life and behavior.  If I do something wrong, I want to know about it and then I want to fix it.  When I can't take time to figure out what went wrong, figure out what I need to do to fix it, then I get upset because I feel stuck.  Unfortunately, this situation is one of those -- I am stuck.  And I miss someone who lives so close and yet may as well be a million miles away.  I wish that I knew what happened, but I feel like I only have my side of the story, an incomplete picture, and there's no way to see the other side.  This may be an insolvable puzzle and that is perhaps the saddest bit of all.

Day 29: A picture that makes me smile

I love art in many forms.  Not all forms.  I'm not going to pay hundreds or thousands for White on White on White Canvas or for some piece of "social commentary" that involves bodily fluids.  I will also not have Thomas Kinkade prints hanging in my house (**gag**) and I do try to avoid most mass-produced art (although at one point in my life I used to buy pictures from Target or Ross).  But I love photographs, canvases or paintings that seem a little out of the ordinary, and I love repurposing something into art.  In my kitchen, I have three framed "prints" on the wall -- two are towels from Crate & Barrel that I cut and then framed (keeping the excess material for quilting scraps) and one is an advertisement for Gardenburger.  But it's not just any advertisement!  It was published in a local newspaper the week that Obama was elected.  I picked up a copy of the paper and when I saw the advertisement I knew that I had to keep it.

Isn't it fun?  It makes me smile every day.

Of course I can't just leave this post for the Thirty Day Challenge with just one picture.  There are many things that make me smile -- usually photos of pets do that -- but there is one picture that I love, love, love, love and so I had to share.  It was taken when my brother returned from deployment, so it is of my brother holding my niece (his niece, too -- our sister's youngest).  I could look at this all day.  And so it's hanging in my hallway.

Good art, in my opinion, may make people think, but more often I think it just makes one's heart sigh and feel better about the world.

Day 28: Something to Fear

When FDR said "We have nothing to fear but fear itself" I think he actually forgot about a few things, namely deep water (and everything in it), spiders, crazy family members, rejection, accidentally losing a limb to a chainsaw, failure, and clowns.  Why would I have a picture of these frightening things?  What, you want me to take a picture and have it on hand just so I can post it for today's edition of the Thirty Day Challenge?  Ha!



Of course that is exactly what Honey did last summer.  Well, Honey didn't know I would eventually need a picture of something scary, but that's exactly what I have in the form of a picture of a spider.  Last summer we were in Florida for a few days visiting Bestie #2's family.  We saw plenty of spiders (one managed to keep me awake all night because it was rather large and liked to scurry from baseboard to baseboard in my room but it was so fast I couldn't kill it -- so I ended up staying awake until 4AM until I was so exhausted that I fell asleep sitting up).  The largest was outside on the wall of the house.  Thank GOD it was not inside!  Just looking at this photo makes me nauseous, which is why I have successfully ignored it for months.  But now, here it is:

YUCK!

You may ask why I haven't just deleted this horrible photo.  I guess the answer, at least today, would be that you never know when you might need a picture of something frightening for a blog post.

Day 27: Me and a Family Member

**Warning: You may not want to read this because I can be a little bit cranky.  Okay, more than a bit.  I get downright bitchy. You've been warned.**

Last week when I was thinking about what to do for this particular post in the Thirty Day Challenge, I thought that I would end up posting a picture of me and my mother at last Friday night's "hooding ceremony" (a part of graduation).  That was before I completely forgot to take a picture with my mother.  Can you believe it?  Yes, I feel a bit guilty.  I have plenty of reasons -- it was the end of a 12-hour work day and I was exhausted, my mind was on other things, I wasn't photogenic at all that evening, I just wanted to be done -- but in reality I think it was a mental slip.  This is one of two photos I have with my mother from that night -- both were taken in the restaurant, not at the actual ceremony, so it looks like any other evening out (except for the fact that we only go "out" about once a year):

My family makes me crazy.  I love them, but certain members in particular make me question my sanity.  Sometimes I think that life would be better if I just ignored all of them, but I love them and so I keep the madness in my life.  But I am trying to set better boundaries, especially since this year is supposed to be one of intentionality, so that means keeping Crazymaker and the Crazies at a distance.

Of course one can't really keep family away during a graduation or a similarly momentous event.  The last time I attended a graduate-level hooding ceremony or graduation I heard so many people thank their family and friends for helping them reach the end of the school-road.  It was a sentiment I could not fully understand.  I am thankful for friends and support -- I have had a lot of encouragement, especially this past year, from friends and colleagues who wanted to see me make it to the end.  But I have not had support from family.  I don't expect it from my siblings, since for most of them I still act as parent (whether they see it that way or not is immaterial -- I still plan family gatherings, make sure everyone is fed, help with college or job or medical forms and applications and schedules, provide transportation...you get the picture).  And from the older generations in my family...well, I have one grandparent left, a few uninvolved aunts and uncles, a Crazymaker, and a Sperm Donor (the real term I use for this person is not BlogLand-appropriate; let's just say we haven't spoken in at least eight years for very good reason).  When I stood at the front of the room last Friday night and was given the chance to speak for a moment, I thanked my friends, colleagues, students, and family, but what I wanted to do was shout from the rooftops "I DID IT!  It was all me! I did this without the support of parents or grandparents or anyone like that and I made it to the end!!"  Of course saying something like that might hurt someone's feelings, so I just share it with Honey (who was supportive, even when wondering why I wanted to pursue this degree, and who knows my family history) and I shout it through BlogLand.  In the interest of full disclosure, my mother did say that evening that I made it this far without family support -- what she meant was financially, but I would say that it should also include non-monetary means.  But then of course she says a lot of things and I know just how much to credit those things.

I sent my grandfather a card a few weeks ago saying I was becoming "doctor."  I have yet to hear from him.  The day after my graduation I found a letter to a brother in the mail, but no note to me.  And so I did what I was supposed to do: printed a few pictures, sent a note about graduation, and left it at that.  I know not to expect anything and so I try not to be disappointed when my lack of expectations prove to be well-founded.  (Perhaps what bothers me most is a family that claims they value family but their actions speak louder than words.)

I love my family.  I really do.  I just don't always like them.  But there is one good thing that comes out of this: I can set an example for my younger siblings, showing them that they can achieve anything with a bit of perseverance and determination.  And now, with The Teenager living in my house, Honey and I can work very hard to give him the support and start in life that I never received.  Sadly, he is a teenager, which means that it's already late in life and he will get to choose whether or not he wants to receive that support.  We'll see what he decides...fingers crossed.

Day 26: Something that means a lot to me

One of the things that I learned growing up was not to become attached to possessions.  That's not to say that I don't love the things that I have, it's just that I know what I have today may be gone tomorrow.  This was demonstrated very clearly last year when we had a burglary; all my jewelry, from my grandmother's ring to the first little silver dragon ring Honey gave me to my one very expensive piece I owned was gone in a moment.  And while I do miss it, I realized right away that I had to accept what had happened.  At least all the furry babies were safe (miraculously).  While this is a drastic example, there are little, every day instances that demonstrate the futility of being too attached to possessions: a favorite glass or vase drops and breaks, books are ruined in a winter flood, a coat is lent and forgotten.  That is why I had to stop and think about today's task in the Thirty Day Challenge.

I could focus on intangibles.  For example, some of the things that I love are cards or drawings from former students.  Even little notes with just a sentence or two are special to me, not because of what they are but because of what they represent.  A teacher friend shared with me her tradition at the end of every school year: she takes a group photo of each class, places it on a piece of cardstock, and has students sign or write messages around it so that she can remember her classes.  As soon as I heard that idea I started it with my own classes and I love the memory books that I now have.

But instead of taking a picture of the memory books, I walked around and started thinking about what I had around me that means a lot to me.  That's when I walked into the hallway and saw my Grama's creation: buttonhook art. 

For decades, my grandmother collected buttonhooks and for a while probably had the largest collection in the country.  Eventually, she started putting the hooks into frames to display them (she had an exhibit at a local museum one year) and then after that she started making buttonhook collections for family members.

 Of course by the time she started making framed buttonhook collections she was going senile, so her attempts to make sure everyone in the family got something were a bit hit-and-miss.  Mine just happened to be a "hit" because at the time she was living in my state and so Honey and I would drive over the mountain and see her one weekend a month. 

Grama also gave me a framed collection to hang on to for my brother Tin Man. 

She said he was not allowed to have it until he had a house of his own.  We'll see if I'm willing to give it up then.  It looks so nice on my wall.

Both of the buttonhook collections happen to have purple, which I believe was my grandmother's favorite color (that and green) because it was everywhere.  Lucky me, it goes nicely with all the oranges in my house.  The buttonhook collections hang in my hallway, which is otherwise devoted to family pictures -- one side for old/military photos and the other side for more current family pictures.

I probably wouldn't care about buttonhooks if I just saw them randomly and had no connection to them.  But now when I see buttonhooks I think of my grandmother.  I wonder if she has that particular hook in her collection and then I remember I can't buy it for her anyway because she's no longer with us.  So I guess that means that buttonhooks -- a tangible possession -- actually represent something intangible: memories with Grama.

Day 25: A Picture of My Day

This is, perhaps, the most boring post of the Thirty Day Challenge, for today I went to work.  My office is in a former janitor's closet.  I share half of my space with the storage from various programs in my department.  Several months ago I finally brought in a few framed photos to make my desk more hospitable, but it does little to change the depressing, windowless atmosphere of my office.  So why would I want a picture of that? 

The few years where I had a classroom of my own I was able to decorate the way that I wanted -- (fake) plants everywhere, lots of lamps, and curtains on the windows that let in plenty of natural light.  Walking into a closet is depressing.  Walking into a messy, ugly classroom is also depressing (and, sadly, I have seen plenty of classrooms like that in various high schools).

I think that people respond to their environments.  If I were to design a school it would look very comfortable, homey, and it would have very large windows everywhere.  If I had my choice of office space, it would have windows.  Lots of windows.  And colorful walls.  Tonight Honey and The Teenager and I were watching "Body of Proof," a new show that Hulu carries.  In one scene tonight it shows the medical examiner in her office and I said "That's it! That's like the office that I want! Except that Lotus would be under the desk by my feet."  Sadly, I couldn't find a picture that even came close.

The nice thing, though, is that it's now spring, and even though it's raining all the time the flowers are finally starting to bloom.  That means that when I pull up into my driveway, I see a beautiful picture.

This is from last year -- not quite an accurate example.

My house and yard have been a lot of work.  Maybe one day I'll post before and after pictures.  It's just that the "after" is still a work in progress in a number of areas.  But at least the front yard is done.  And I love it because spring through fall I arrive home and am greeted by different blooming flowers.  That is a highlight of my day.

Day 24: Something I wish I could change

We all have things about ourselves that we want to change.  At least I'm pretty sure that we do.  I would love to be thinner, have more definition between my chin and neck, and have permanently smooth legs.  But we don't always get what we want, do we?  I think that wanting something else, wanting change of some sort, is just a part of being human.

I've spent a lot of time thinking about change over the years.  My childhood was not the best.  Not the worst, by a long shot, since I didn't grow up as a child soldier or sold into prostitution and I didn't wind up in jail for stealing food to feed my family, but it was certainly no walk in the park.  I wouldn't wish my childhood on anyone, but I also wouldn't change the fact that I went through some pretty icky things, since those experiences made it so that I feel I can handle pretty much anything life throws my way.

So changing my appearance is out.  Changing my past is out, too.  What is left?  Aha! What about a more serious post for this part of the Thirty Day Challenge?  There are things in the world that I wish I could change.  There are wars, genocides, human trafficking, starvation...so many things I could list that it could be overwhelming.  I do believe that it's important to help change these things.  Some people are born to travel the world and never settle down, born to live like Mother Teresa.  I admire that.  But those people need money and encouragement as support for their missions, and so there are people born like me -- we find a way to send consistent support to the causes that we care about.  I'm not saying that money is a replacement for volunteer work or anything like that, just that both are necessary.  And so here are a few of the organizations that we support.  They do great work.  And I hope that maybe I can encourage others to support them, or similar organizations, as well.

Mercy Corps -- This organization responds to disasters (and many other situations) worldwide.  They make good use of their funds and I just love them.

Southern Poverty Law Center -- As a former social studies teacher, the issue of social justice is very important to me.  SPLC tracks hate groups (among its many responsibilities) and is very informative. In addition, they publish great teaching materials for K-12 education and give it to teachers for free!!  I have a number of videos (on VHS -- now they're offered on DVDs) that were so helpful when I wanted to highlight a particular point.  Their Teaching Tolerance website is amazing.  Seriously.  If you're in education (whether a public/private school teacher or home schooler), check them out.

 Food Banks: When I grew up, I had a lot of "food insecurity."  I didn't know it at the time.  The phrase is something I've heard within the past few years.  It means that we were not starving, but many times we didn't know if or when there would be a next meal and sometimes meals were skipped because there just wasn't any food.  I have a little bit of an obsession with food now, which is revealed by my desire to make sure that everyone has enough to eat all the time.  As an adult, the first home that Honey and I bought was in a county that had a lot of poverty and food issues.  That's when we started supporting Marion-Polk Food Share.  We don't live there any more, but it's important to me to support them, to grow food and give it away, and eventually to make my garden productive enough that I can go to the local food bank and donate fresh produce every week.  I hate thinking that people might go hungry.

Day 23: My Favorite Book

I've had a book in my hands for as long as I can remember.  Wait, strike that: for longer than I can remember.  My memory is not very good.  But I know that I've been reading since age two and it's probably one of my favorite pastimes.  In fact, I know that I am either too depressed or too busy (or both) when I can't find the energy to read.  (This has happened a lot in the past two years, so I've slowed down with reading, but I recently ordered the latest Sarah Vowell book so I know I'll have a good read soon.)  It is why when I got to today's task in the Thirty Day Challenge that I thought (like most other days), how am I supposed to answer this?

I could just point you to my version of the top 100 fiction books to read.  That might give you some indication of the books that I like.  But maybe this post requires more specifics?  What kind of categories should I use?  There are just too many good books!  My years as a humanities major, a language arts teacher, and a social studies teacher did not prepare me to narrow my book choice to one, and so I'll provide a variety.


Favorite children's book: When I was young, one of my favorite books was Possum Magic.  It didn't matter that I was a bit too old for picture books, I loved this story.  I still have a copy.

In my library there are a few shelves devoted to books and literature for children and young adults.  There are few things I love more.  Several years ago I wrote a children's book and sent it away to a few places for publication but was unsuccessful in that attempt.  My family tells me that the story is good, but can you really take the opinions of family?  A friend reminds me that people like Stephen King had numerous books rejected before finding success.  So perhaps I should try, try, try again.  In my mind's eye, the illustrations to my story would be bright and colorful, like in another children's book that I adore: Weslandia.

My mother-in-law first told me about this book because it reminded her of Honey.  Perhaps that's a reason why I love it.  But I think it's adorable and I make sure that it's a part of baby shower gifts because every kid needs this book.

An excellent biography:
When I was in high school I had the biggest crush on a long-dead historical figure: Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain.  He was an intellectual, brilliant, and he ended up rising through the ranks of the military in the Civil War (even though he, like many, would've preferred to stay out of the war altogether). 

Alice Rains Trulock wrote In the Hands of Providence and I read it cover to cover several times while in high school.  When the film Gettysburg came out (1993?), I transferred at least part of my crush to Jeff Daniels, who played Chamberlain.  (Imagine my surprise and disappointment when I learned that this role was far different than Jeff Daniels' usual roles!)

A good piece of literature:
I've read a few (not many) pieces of Russian literature.  Most of it is very hard to slog through, in my opinion, but I loved The Master and Margarita.

 A book that I carried with me through many moves:

Honey and I met in high school.  That year, we were both involved in the production of Much Ado About Nothing -- me as Benedict, Honey as Leonato.  (For the record, we were in a small community -- neither one of us has a thespian bone in our body.) 

This is my favorite Shakespeare play, not just because we have fun memories but because it is so funny. 

A great non-fiction book (about a sad topic):
I tend to enjoy nonfiction books written by journalists, probably because they are used to writing in a way that makes people want to read.  They tend to be good storytellers, it's just that the stories happen to be true (most of the time).

Adam Hochschild has written a number of books about different events in history and all of his books are very readable and informative.

An addictive series:
A friend of mine gave me Diana Gabaldon's book Outlander one year so that I would have something to read on the plane.  What an obsession that started! 

Outlander is the first -- and shortest -- book in a series that is set in Scotland & and US in the 18th & 20th centuries.  So good!

A feel-good read:
Anything by Alexander McCall Smith is, in my mind, a feel good read.  I love his writing style and his stories. 

My bookshelves in the library that Honey and I built are filled with books.  And I've given away boxes and boxes of books. 

Still, the bookshelves barely hold everything.  Books are definitely one of my obsessions.

Day 22: I wish I were better at many things

Life has not exactly returned to normal (as you may notice, since I'm still hiding from BlogLand), but it is heading in that direction and so I thought I would return to my Thirty Day Challenge posts.  Day 22 is supposed to be a picture of something I wish I could do better.  For a while I thought "You mean like completing a task on time?" since it's very clear that my Day 22 post is weeks delayed.  Then I thought about all the things I would like to improve or learn in my life.  I'd like to be able to knit without needing a loom to keep everything straight.  I'd like to crochet interesting patterns.  I'd like to be able to paint, sing, weed, listen to others, bake, focus on the task at hand, cook, listen to my intuition, express myself articulately, and handle life parenting a teenager better than I do right now.  I have these skills, to various degrees, but I am not as skillful as I would wish.

Then I started thinking about intangible qualities that I wish to improve.  And that's when I discovered my picture for today:

What is my biggest problem in life?  Saying "Yes!" or "sure" or "okay" or "I can do that, no problem" when in reality it is a problem.  A big problem.  I've said before that I need a least 36 hours to my day and most of that is because I agree to take on my problems, the world's problems, and every little task in between.  I have no idea how to say "no!"  I practiced for a while and then fell out of the habit.  That was a bad idea.  I should've prioritized the skill of saying no until it became an ingrained habit.  (Interestingly enough, this image came from this website that talks about learning to say no.)  Ask Honey and you'll find someone else who agrees -- I take on far too many tasks.  And many of them happen to be very time-consuming.  Just thinking about my list makes me tired.

So why do I do it?  I think that a lot of it has to do with feelings of guilt.  I want to help others and so if I can, I will.  I've put in many long days and nights because of this.  It got worse when I was unemployed for a while.  I felt guilty about not having an income and contributing in that way to the household and so I volunteered for just about every task under the sun.  A friend once commented that she thought I was far busier than she was and she had a full-time job.

Staying busy did not ease my guilt over being unemployed.  When I was finally hired again, I felt great -- and then realized that my salary was far lower than it had been previously (a common occurrence in this recession, from what I hear on NPR).  I was also only hired half-time.  And so I continued to take on additional tasks, fill my time, and stay very, very busy.  Others contributed to this with the "oh, you're just working part-time so you must have the time to do _____________," but really it was my own fault for agreeing -- over and over again -- to add so many to-do items to my list.

Recently, I've come to realize that I can do many things, but when I try to do those many things all at once I can't do anything well. (My Guilt Monster chimes in and says, "Really, Dr. Genius? You just recently figured this out??"  Yes, Guilt Monster.  Even geniuses have blind spots.)  Now that I am done with my degree I have to take some time to sit down and figure out what it is that I do.  I kept thinking that one day I would be all grown up and I would suddenly know what to do with my life, but that day hasn't arrived.  I enjoy many things.  I take on many tasks that I don't enjoy.  One day, if I'm not careful, I worry that I'll wake up and realize that I've not done anything truly great with my life and it's too late.  At least that's my fear.  And so with that in mind I've decided to refocus my efforts on being intentional.  We'll see what happens for the rest of this year.  In the meantime, I think I need to make a "just say no" sign and carry it around with me until the habit becomes ingrained.

Day 21: A Picture of Something I'd Like to Forget

Why does the Thirty Day Challenge have to require a picture of something I'd like to forget?  Isn't the whole point of wanting to forget something the idea that you avoid thinking about it?

I believe that each person has about a gazillion things she would like to forget, ranging from daily minutiae to big dark secrets that will never see the light of day.  And while the blog is very personal and yet protective, since I just have to tell my secrets to a computer screen without looking at the face of another individual, I don't think it's quite enough to get me to share everything...at least not all at once.  And so I will focus on smaller things that I will find important and nevertheless wish that I could forget.

Things like people who abuse animals -- I wish I could forget about that.  I wish that I could close my eyes and it would all go away.  I don't understand how people could do something like that.  And I certainly don't want to post a picture because every time I see it I run to my own furry babies and hug them and wish that somehow that hug will protect them from all the evil in the world.  If this sounds like you, too, you might want to check out Patrick's Law, a website that is trying to get harsher penalties for people who abuse and torture animals.

Along those lines (in a way), I wish that I could forget that my Hero, my darling cat, died in October 2009.  I do, actually, sometimes forget...and then when I remember again I am crushed.  Hero was the perfect cat and everyone, even dog-lovers, loved her.  She was a cute little 8lb Manx and had been my baby since she was small enough to fit in my palm.  She was named after a character in Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing, my favorite play.

My mother had her as an indoor-outdoor cat for the first two years, but when I got married and was no longer moving every few months, I brought Hero to live with us. Honey was never really a pet person, but he fell in love with Hero (and we eventually wound up with a house full of furry babies).

Hero liked being outside, but we kept her on a leash or within our sight in the backyard.

 When she was diagnosed with kidney failure at age 10, I was devastated.  We gave her kitty dialysis for months here at home and I took her in to the vet on a regular basis.  We gave her herbs and supplements.  Still, she became weaker and weaker until she was so tiny, only five pounds, and she wanted to sleep all the time.

Lotus and Hero used to sleep next to each other.

Thankfully, Lotus, too, liked to sleep, and we would find them together on a regular basis.  Hero had not liked the addition of Canvas, another cat, to the house years ago (it took her a long time to get used to the idea), but she was fine with Lotus.

I knew that once the vet told me she was in a lot of pain that I would have to give her up -- I loved my baby so much that I didn't want to see her suffer (a reason why I support my state's Death with Dignity law).  Thankfully I did not have to make that choice.  One night at 3AM I heard the most horrific meow.  I do truly wish that I could forget it.  I jumped up and ran to find Hero, who was so weak she could not stand, but she looked up at me and I knew it was time.  I picked her up, set her in the soft, new cat bed I just purchased the day before for her, and carried her to the couch where we curled up together.  We sat that way for three hours, when I finally woke Honey.  It seemed that with that last contact, Hero said it was time and that was that.  My furry soul mate was gone.

I still can't believe it.  I had her cremated and put in something that doesn't look so creepy-urn-like:

and then I bought some "Black Hero" tulips and planted them in the yard:

I cannot begin to express how devastated I was, but those of you who have pets who are like family will understand, I am sure.  Hero's passing did allow us to expand our family...a lot.  I was already planning on adopting two manx kittens (from a litter that a former student & his wife had, a surprise from adopting a stray summer of 2009), and then I saw a beautiful tabby who looked a lot like Hero (except this cat had a tail) for adoption at the local shelter.  We ended up with all three within about two weeks of Hero's leaving.

I love my fur babies.  I can't imagine life without them.  And I am so thankful for the additions.  But I still miss my Hero.  And I wish that I could forget her meow and that last awful night.  My mother says that even though the evening was devastating, it showed my connection with Hero, because she wanted to wake me up (and she waited for Honey to get up), rather than hiding as cats are wont to do when the end is near.  Perhaps that is true.  It is comforting to think that it is, and so I'll run with that idea.

There are many, many more things in life that I wish I could forget: corporate greed, wars, plagues, pestilence, famine, genocide, and people who are cruel and inconsiderate just because they can be. Just because they are selfish.  The world is filled with awful things that would be really depressing if one just focused on that side and didn't see any of the good.  We could look at people helping after natural disasters, or people helping others just because, and realize that life is not all bad.  There are certainly plenty of glimmers of hope and beauty all throughout the world.

Perhaps because all of these things play into who I am, who we are, what the world is, maybe it's best to remember the slogan of Holocaust survivors: Never Forget.  After all, if ever there was a group of people who should be allowed to forget horrors, it's that group, and they remind us every day of the importance of remembrance.