Candy everyone wants

The day before we left our mountain vacation, we drove along a winding mountain road to the very top of a smooth peak on the border of North Carolina and South Carolina. We were there to find and cut our Christmas tree.

As we milled about the tree farm, a golden retriever sidled up to Reilly and nuzzled her arm. Reilly laughed and gave her a pet. After choosing our tree the dog was still following us around, so I asked the owner of the tree farm who he belonged to. The man said that he didn't know, that he had seen the dog running around and that it had probably been dumped. The dog had no collar or identification, and though it was relatively clean, the dog was thin and I could feel his ribs when I bent down to pet him.

I told Shawn that we should take him home. She sort of did a double-take, knowing that impulsiveness is not my forte', but when she saw that I was serious, said, "Yes! Let's take him home!"

She asked Reilly what we would name him, and Reilly said, "Candy." This is actually a pretty high compliment from Reilly, considering that candy is her favorite thing.

We put the christmas tree on top of the truck, and Candy inside the truck, and told the tree farm man that we were going to take him with us. He said that it was a great idea, but that we might want to drive up the mountain a bit and check to see if anyone had lost him.

So, we drove up the mountain, past countless multi-million dollar estates, and finally came to a house that had a car out front. I got out and knocked on the door to the cabin, and a crazy old bat lady came out and said, "That's what's-his-name's dog. Barry. He does some of the electric and plumbing work around here. I'll call him. Hopefully he hasn't had too many beers yet and he can drive up and get Gomer--that's the dog's name. His other dog just got shot the other day from wandering around someone else's property. He'd just be sick if you took him."

She got ahold of the man and said he would meet us at the Christmas tree farm. When I got back in the truck, I said, "Well, the bad news is that this dog already has a name. It's Gomer." And when I said his name, the dog wagged his tail and looked up at me.

We drove down to the tree farm, and up pulled a beat-up pickup truck. In it was a scraggly man wearing a Gators hat. I let the dog out of the truck and the dog walked over with his tail between his legs. Gomer refused to get in the truck, and cowered when Barry drew near.

Reilly began to cry hysterically for Candy.

My dad summed up the situation best when he said, "We had a choice between doing the right thing, and doing the right thing."

Good luck, Candy. We'll miss you.

Five minutes after sunset:

Texas

Here are some photos from my trip to Texas for grandma's funeral. I can't tell you how glad I was to make the trip. To view, Click Here.

My, how far we've come

While we lived in The City, there was a time that I watched Reilly two days a week as a Mr. Mom type fellow, and on those days, when I needed to take a shower, I would load Reilly up in her Exersaucer, put on some Barney, and head to the head.

Reilly loved that Exersaucer, and so did I, so it was of no surprise when she asked to be put in her little friend Lila's Exersaucer while we were over visiting her this past weekend.

From the picture above, one would think that Reilly is still a little tot, that she is merely a sprite, a small child who still endearingly fits into the small plastic business centers designed for toddlers and parents alike--but then you would be mistaken, for the shot above is only from the waist up, whereas the photo below tells the true story:

Photo Assignment #15

This week's assignment from Minna's blog was to simply post your favorite photo. Tough assignment. I've decided to post two photos, both of which would have satisfied the earlier assignments of "self-portrait" and "backlighting."

Without further ado:
An oldie:

A goodie:

Photo Assignment #13

This week's assignment was to do a self-portrait. Self-portraits are an aspect of photography that I have never taken seriously, and yet, when I went back into the archives to look for samples, I had plenty. Below, I'll post two self-portraits, one serious, one obnoxious, and I like to juxtapose them because it shows two opposing sides of my personality.

I think that the key to a good self-portrait is finding a way to define yourself in one shot, one frame of your likeness that sums up the whole person. I'm hoping to take some photos through Saturday in an attempt to find that person, but I know it's a long trip uphill to do so.

In the meantime, here is "pre-black tie dinner Brian," and The Inspector:

Photo Assignment #12

This week's assignment on Miriam's blog was "eyes." I had a few ideas about other interpretations of the word "eye" that I could photograph, but alas, the moment never presented itself, and so here is an oldie-but-goodie of Reilly from the archives.

Tough to focus on anything but her eyes in this photo...

Photo Assignment #10

The photo assignment from Miriam's blog this week was "hands."

I wish I had time to do some focused shots of the pairs of hands around me, but alas, work was very busy and now I'm about 24 hours away from being in Oregon for a week, so you'll have to settle for a photo from the archives, albeit one of my favorites:

Photo Assignment #9

This week's assignment from Miriam was to submit a photo that used reflection as a technique. I composed this shot just a few weeks ago while I was walking into work. It is one of my favorites.

Buddha Lover

Reilly has had a crush on this Buddha statue ever since Shawn brought him home.

This weekend, she invited him into the pool. Below, is how she romanced him, in three frames:

Photo Assignment #8

This week's assignment over at Minna's webiste was to capture motion. I have a lot of motion shots of Reilly--few of which are intentional--due to the fact that our daughter never ceases to move. (No, not even in her sleep.) However, I wanted to actually go in search of motion, and so I carried my camera a lot this week.

One opportunity arose when I visited the Book Arts Studio at my work. Every Tuesday morning, a professor, his colleagues, and other book-minded people gather to make printed works using old printing presses. This week, he was using a Vandercook press to print some invitations for an upcoming event.

It took me awhile to get the photograph I've posted below, and to be honest, it really doesn't capture the horizonal movement of the press, but you can only take so many photos before wearing out your welcome.

Here is about 25% of the press, with the rollers and gears:

Here is a shot of just the rollers:

Photo Assignment #7

Here are my entries for Photo Assignment #7: "Creative Backlighting" over at Minna's blog, both from the archives:

Photo Assignment #5

Below is my submission for this week's photo assignment over at Miriam's blog. The task at hand for this week was to take a photo with repetition at its core. I pulled my homework this week from my archive of photos from our trip last summer to North Carolina. This was a series of steps that lead to one of the many waterfalls of the region.

Photo Assignment #4

This week's assignment over at Miriam's blog was to consider point of view. I decided to skip the archives on this one and spend an afternoon shooting my favorite subject--Reilly--to see what I might come up with.

The photo I ended up with was a bit of an accident. I was shooting Reilly as she was playing on a slide at the local softball field. On one of the shots the flash didn't fire, and I ended up with this:

Though I don't normally do anything to my photos post-production, I did crop the left side of this photo to center my subject and remove a rather inelegant telephone pole.

Photo Assignment #3

Each week, Miriam Dyer posts a photography assignment over at her blog.

This is my entry for the "color" assignment. She asked that we submit a photo that is interesting because of its color. The litmus test for this assignment was to convert the photo into black and white and ask if the photo makes the same statement with the color removed.

This photo was taken somewhere in Greenwich Village about two years ago. I believe the house is on West 11th Street because that was where our pediatrician was, and I recall taking this photo after one of Reilly's doctor visits.

Anyway, I took the shot because one can't help wondering whether the shutters were painted because of the Vespa, or if the Vespa was chosen because of the shutters.

Or if it was all just a random moment caught on film.

Unsupervised

This is what happens when you hand Reilly a Mr. Potato Head and then turn your back:

In her den

Our house has a few anomolies left over from its creation in the 1930s. One of them is a little firewood closet to the right of the fireplace, in the living room. I imagine that the firewood closet can hold about a cord of wood.

It also fits a two-and-a-half-year-old quite nicely.

Inspector Mustache bids you adieu

A Mr. Potato Head representation of me, after shaving this morning:

The Band-Aid was Reilly's addition.

The Inspector, Part 2

Yesterday, I returned home to find a sink full of dishes. Being “Husband of the Year” for two years running now, I rolled up my sleeves and got started. However, after washing the silverware and a few cups, I noted a scene that gave me pause.

Reilly’s large pink cereal bowl was partially full of leftover Peanut Butter Bumpers. However, there was also a second bowl, a smaller purple one that contained a few soggy Cinnamon Life squares. Being the world-class inspector that I am, I was able to deduce several things. Allow me to recreate Shawn and Reilly’s morning.

Shawn asks Reilly if she would like Peanut Butter Bumpers for breakfast. Reilly says yes. Shawn fills a bowl of Peanut Butter Bumpers for Reilly and lets her begin her breakfast. Then, Shawn returns to the kitchen to make her own bowl of cereal. Since Shawn does not like Peanut Butter Bumpers, she instead selects for herself Cinnamon Life. She takes the bowl into the dining room, sits down, but upon her first bite, hears a voice of protest from across the table. Reilly, being the conformist that she is, sees Shawn’s cereal and demands that she too be given a bowl of Cinnamon Life. Shawn, having had this argument before, silently thinks I should have seen that coming and goes to get Reilly a second, smaller bowl of the aforementioned cereal. However, Reilly, having eaten most of her Peanut Butter Bumpers already, is too full to finish her new—albeit smaller—bowl of cereal. Hence the scene from the kitchen sink.

Elementary, my dear Internets.

The Inspector, Part I

Every year, over winter break, I grow a beard. The tradition started in The City, where the cold winters discouraged any unnecessary shaving. Why expose my face to the sub-freezing weather when there were no workplace faces to be seen?

This year, after some discussion with a coworker, a pact was made to grow out our mustaches over winter break, and then surprise our colleagues on our first day back at work. That day was today.

In the past I have had every manner of facial hair, from soul patches to goatees to full beards. Never before have I had a mustache. The reason was two-fold: One, my dad has a mustache. Two, I’ve always thought mustaches look either silly or sleazy on younger men.

Despite these two reasons, I kept to my pact and shaved my winter break beard into a stylish mustache. Too chicken to go the full monty, I left a little flavor saver under my bottom lip. The result was hilarious. I laughed so hard when I saw the final product in the bathroom mirror that Shawn came in to see what was the matter. When I showed her my ‘stache, she was amused in the “husbands will be husbands” kind-of-way.

At work, I received a variety of reactions, most of which placed me into some ethnic group. I was told I looked like a Colombian coffee farmer, a Frenchman, Clark Gable, Borat, and an British Inspector. I grasped on to this last one as my alter ego for the life of my mustache.

Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to introduce Inspector Overcast, of Scotland Yard: