I know it’s small and low-resolution, but I thought it would be fun to post my little experiment. I found this website and got addicted to looking at all the toy-like people and cars in the photographs.
How can you not enjoy taking a normal, everyday photograph and making it into something that looks like it is straight from the Island of Sodor or perhaps Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood?
I mean, who doesn’t like to look like a tiny, little, plastic plaything?
Oh, the cynical, hilarious, and downright mean responses that just popped into my mind. Shame on me.
P.S. There are a lot of tutorials on how to achieve this affect on your photographs. I am actually going to go out on a special trip downtown sometime soon to take more photographs that are conducive to this type of editing. The photograph above was taken by my big sis on New Year’s Day right after I limped in from running a 3-mile race. In 5 degree weather. Pathetic, I know. Not the temperature…the fact that I was limping after only 3 miles. Yup, mmmhmmm. I know.
…and sometimes still do.
this image inspiration via remodelista from Taku Shinomoto.
Can’t you just see numerous little ones, all their wiggles on display, seated around this very simple, modern table?
I can. And now this has been added to my dreaming notebook entitled, “Do It Myself Projects For When I Have Time Which Is A Dream In And Of Itself.”
Happy Monday.
Sunday.
Fellowship with family and worship in the a.m.
Rest, more fellowship.
And then, quiet. Just us.
Warming up yesterday’s gluten free garlic-oregano bread, with marinara and mozarella.
Looking through my lens to find…another lens staring back at me.
Fresh apple slices, a drizzle of honey, a sprinkle of cinnamon.
Hot water means tea…
…in my favorite cup that Mom bought me when I was in the throes of PPD after Anna. It has memories. Good ones and bad ones. But it’s my cup. I hope, hope, hope it never breaks. I suppose when it does, it will be time to move onto new attachments and memories. It is a little crazy, isn’t it, what we find comforting?
Anyhow, it is a little bit of a tradition this Sunday evening tea and planning Monday’s home school lesson plans. And listening to music whilst doing so. Today was Imogen Heap. Part of me is in love, the other part, jury still out. Mostly her music makes me glad for the hope I carry with me…otherwise I do believe her music would be too hollow for me to be able to handle. It is hauntingly beautiful in one way…perhaps too much so for my already melancholy personality. Mayhap I shall layer and follow Imogen with some Owl City.
Goodnight. I am going now.
Have a blessed Monday.
P.S.
Budding photographer making sure the warm mozzarella bread gets documented before it disappears altogether.
I am working and I hear a conversation in the hallway:
Josh (age 9): Barrett, sometimes you are just weird.
Bear (age 4): I know I’m weird.
Josh: No, seriously, like, you are totally weird sometimes. The stuff you do…
Bear: I KNOW I’m weird. I LIKE to be weird. So there.
Only Bear has a bit of a speech thing going on so it sounded more like, ” I KNOW I’m weewed. I LIKE to be weewed. So thaew.”
We as mothers and fathers try so hard to make sure our children are self-assured and centered. And then a conversation like this happens and I am flabbergasted.
He is free. He stood up for himself. I am proud.
Now, to sit down and explain to Josh what weird really is.
I’m so distracted today with thoughts of the Haitian devastation. I know that I am not the only one.
I looked at all the images from the quake and I found myself wondering how many people will never find who they are looking for, never know exactly what happened, never really recover.
And then I get mad, confused and ask the fathomless question of “why”?
I am not sure “why” matters, but it always seems to feel like the most expedient question to be answered. As if knowing why would make it all shift into reverse.
The world can’t reverse. But we can go forward.
We can pray. Pray that family members can be reunited, that injuries heal, and that hearts can begin mending. We can pray that a city devastated can be rebuilt and reborn. We can pray for relief workers as they go and join hands with the suffering. And we can pray for ourselves that our hearts would learn to look outward, all around us.
This is a good place to donate.
Also, here is a good list of other charities who can accept donations. Please do your research and make sure your dollars aren’t being funneled into a scam.
Psalm 147:3
He heals the brokenhearted, and binds up their wounds.
I am one of those people. The kind whose mind pops on at 9 p.m. and refuses to shut down until every sundry or earth-shattering item scrolling through the grey matter at breakneck speed is transferred to hardcopy.
I remember my father looking at the clock when I was in grade school and saying, “Ho, ho! Better get that one in bed before the switch flips!” And they would never be in time and there I would be reading, writing, talking, laughing, pacing until all hours. My teachers never minded, though. The best grades I ever got on essays and research papers were achieved with the 10 p.m. to 4 a.m. rule.
My method:
1. compile research.
2. complete basic outline.
3. read all materials and familiarize myself with the subject in the weeks leading up to deadline.
4. watch the clock; at the stroke of 10 begin the mad writing spree fueled by caffeine, chips, and the hot breath of my teacher upon my neck.
It worked. Every. Single. Time. Without fail. So, I consider this tendency of mine to be equal good vs. evil. A perfect mix of darkness and light. That is if you are on the other end of the light part. Unfortunately, that tends to be the part nobody sees.
The dark part comes in the morning and that’s the part everyone sees.
And Tim, love, I know you will be reading this, having gotten a very nice night’s sleep, and you will shake your head and chuckle with puzzlement. Even after ten years I know you don’t get it. What matters is you love me anyway.
There are these times when no matter how sleep deprived I have become (cause we all know motherhood is a cakewalk), I simply must think. And think. And think. Don’t get me wrong, there is plenty of prayer sprinkled and mixed up in there, but I am realizing more and more the value of contemplation merely for it’s own sake.
Why?
I don’t know, yet.
I just know the profound relief of stretching my head muscle beyond it’s normal confines.
And questions like the one below send me well on my way. From the 9 yr.old boy,
Talk about keeping a body awake. I am a home school mother. I should know this.
Blast. Now I’m going to have to Google it. Or ask the engineer husband who says very practically,
“No, It would just disintegrate, and evaporate”
Whhaaaaa….?
I have come into the habit of writing all this randomness down in a notebook, so I can rest like a normal grown up. Someday I will show you a sample…it’s a little crazy. But even with all the crazy, I don’t know if I could do without the thinking. About stuff. Random or important. Simple or complicated. Shallow or deep.
I have been teased that if I were to be a character from the movie, ‘Up’, I would be the dog. (And the former, random sentence that does not tie to anything would be the equivalent of “squirrel!”. So there you go.)
I am not talking worrying here, I am talking meditating, puttin’ on the ole cap.
So, what do you think? Contemplation as a pass time. Good or bad? And, do you take the time to think about stuff, just for the pure enjoyment of thinking? And…what kinds of thoughts do you think?
My younger sister, Nicole, has been working out in the sunny and warm state of Cali following her time at culinary school. She was able to come home to the Midwest for the holidays and I knew her gift to the children would have something to do with the art she herself is perfecting with each new meal she prepares and pastry she bakes.
We weren’t disappointed. She gave each of the kiddos a hearty twill apron and a tube of fabric paint to make it their very own. Along with the aprons, of course, was a promise to have a baking day with the kids. It was so fun to listen to them in the kitchen as she taught them different chef-y type words and such.
Anyway, baking day was a wonderful time had by all and the kids devoured each and every one of the cookies that were formed by their little hands with the help of their lovely aunt.
The only frustration was the recipe. It was a traditional molasses spice cookie and my sister was trying one of her very first conversions from “traditional” to “gluten free”. She is a perfectionist and I know the little mounds of what looked like sand were getting on her nerves. The flavor was great, it was just the texture that was a puzzlement. Like I said above, the children scarfed up every single one and, believe me, adored every bite. But I also know that Chef Nicole would have loved to see a slightly more tender and moist product.
A couple days later I was hankering for one of those cookies, which were now all gone, and realized nothing was stopping me from blazing a bit of a trail for myself and for Nicole. I have never, ever tried to create a gluten free baked anything. Unless it’s the Gluten Free Girl’s peanut butter cookies. Those don’t count. They don’t even have flour in ‘em.
Ok, so I took what I remembered of the recipe I saw on the table when they were working, looked up a couple different recipes on allrecipes.com and took a few pointers from the Gluten Free Girl on weighing flours instead of using traditional measurement techniques. It seems as if she is going to start doing that. And so, I will too.
Josh got out his white board and pen and took dictation as I weighed, measured, combined, and tweeked. We ended up baking three different combinations and this is the one that resonated the most with our tastebuds. Even though we probably just consumed 10,000 calories, it was so much fun watching him watch me and pitching in ideas.
Aunt Nicole, we are going to have to do another baking day!
—————————————————–
Molasses Spice Cookies (adapted from a recipe on ‘all recipes’ and the one my sister brought over, don’t know who by…I will check)
3/4 C. softened, room temperature butter, sliced into chunks
1/2 C. dark brown sugar
1/2 C. granulated sugar
2 eggs
1/2 C. honey
1/4 C. molasses
5 oz. sweet sorghum flour
2 1/2 oz. brown rice flour
2 1/2 oz. white rice flour
1 t. xanthan gum
2 t. baking powder
1/2 t. salt
1 t. ground cinnamon
1/2 t. ground cloves
1/2 t. ground ginger
Combine the butter, sugars, eggs, molasses, and honey in a bowl and lightly beat with mixer. Chunks of butter left in the batter are just fine. Leave them be. They’ll be fine without being creamed to death.
And, yes, I just told you to dump everything in a bowl together. All at once. Shoot me.
Also, yes, it says baking ‘powder’ instead of the more traditional baking ’soda’. I tend to not like the soda-ish bite to the original cookie. Thus, I changed it. ‘Cause I felt like it. Shoot me again.
Ok, moving on.
Weigh your flours into a separate bowl.
I am sincerely sorry if you don’t have a kitchen scale. (If you don’t, you can measure out a mix of flours that, sifted, is approximately 2 C.) Just be careful and reserve a bit back so you have the luxury of fine-tuning the dough later, if needed.
Add the xanthan gum, baking powder, salt, cinnamon, cloves, and ginger to the flour and sift lightly with a whisk, a fork, or your finger. I don’t think it matters, just get it mixed.
Carefully fold dry ingredients into the wet ingredients until just combined.
Cover with parchment paper and chill in refrigerator for about an hour.
Heat the oven to 350 degrees F.
Form 1 inch balls from the chilled dough and, if desired, roll in granulated sugar. Place on ungreased cookie sheet, slightly press them down with the bottom of a glass, and bake for approx. 12 mins.
Let them cool on the cookie sheet for 5 mins. before placing them on a cooling rack.
Yields approx 2 1/2 dozen small cookies.
They are great straight out of the oven, but the next day….???? Holy Captain America! They rock!
If you try this recipe, please let me know what you think. I would love to have some feedback.
If you don’t ever sit and allow yourself to mindlessly gaze out your window, just look what you end up missing.
So, go on. Go grab one of those sofa throws, find a comfy chair, and gaze. It might actually yield pretty nice results.
When the sun hasn’t shown it’s lovely face for days and it feels like the cold has soaked all the way to your spine, there is nothing like that bright dot of red that is so alive.
I wish a cardinal for you today. Or perhaps an equivalent. I really do.
Thanks from the bottom of my heart, Mr. Cardinal. Come again.
The saying, “A picture is worth a thousand words” is never more appropriate than at year’s end when your life has zipped by, full tilt, taking along with it a good portion of memories.
The older I get the more I appreciate a photograph. Mostly because I only realize how much I have forgotten when I go through my photographs and get a reminder of all that has passed. The time, the events, the little moments, the big moments.
This year? It felt like it was here and then…it was gone. Just like that.
Each child is a year older, a size bigger, and a good deal smarter. I wish I could say the same for me. Well, maybe that part about being a size larger. *ahem*
Anyway, I browsed and found some little tokens of my year here in our home, in our lives and on this blog.
Life this year has been sometime challenging, always interesting, never, never, never boring. Thank goodness.
Well, my new year looks like a year of changes. I’m not sure what, yet, but I can feel it in the air. This last year was a year of learning stillness and enjoying the small things. I could even call it a year of survival. Survival in the best sense of the word. We hit some very low points as you know, to those of you who read this blog. But in those low points came the highest points of all. Togetherness, a sharpening of our faith, learning the definition of grace, and getting to know ourselves and each other and God on a deeper level.
I think sometimes we risk too much by avoiding the lows of life. Smooth sailin’ is fun for awhile, but I don’t know anyone who watches a pirate movie to see all the smooth sailing going on. Nah, it’s the thrill of hanging from the yardarm in a raging storm that gets our blood going.
So, this year make some reasonable risks. Go do something. Challenge yourself to a year of personal bests.
It could be as simple as mine have become. To add to the several I wrote in the previous post, here is an addendum.
The Official Addendum to Heather’s New Year’s Rez (it’s my very own slang…I’m a homeschool mom, I need to get street cred from somewhere)
I. Learn what it means to control my tongue. That bugger gets the best of me far too often.
II. Make a point of writing down my thoughts. Sometimes I feel guilty for taking time to journal, as if it’s a luxury instead of a necessity. Less false guilt, more writing.
III. Prioritize ruthlessly, unapologetically, and with purpose.
IV. Make sure all my kids graduate from high school this year. They are 9,7, and 4. It’s about time and I’ve been dragging my feet.
*Note: I. Am. Joking. (about number 4)…..they aren’t due to graduate until next year. With honors, of course.
Quiet.
More particularly, unforced quiet. The kind that comes in the early morning or in the deep of night when the busy legs and hands and minds and mouths are silent.
Sometimes quiet comes after a sharp reprimand, in the middle of the afternoon, soon to be interrupted anyway by little brains operating small bodies completely unable to stay still.
I prefer the quiet that is part of the rhythm, part of the sun-up, the sun-down portion of the day.
It’s appalling, really. How often we waste it, throw it away. Stress drives into us like nails and accumulates until we are ready to shatter, but still we squander, squander, squander. Thinking it’s Time’s fault. There isn’t enough of it. It runs too fast.
Time is what it is. God created it as a static entity, interrupted only at His will. Time doesn’t bear the fault for lacking.
Unfortunately, we do.
In a nutshell that is my Resolution. I actually made it awhile ago, but it seems so appropriate to remind myself now, during a time of pressing needs all around me.
My 2010, Oh, Lord please help me:
1. Love the Lord my God with all my heart, soul, and mind.
2. Relish God-ordained quiet. Deep in my soul and around me, help me to view it as the profound gift that it is.
3. Banish the aimless and sad, sad squandering.
*What are you wanting to see as a new year dawns? I would love to hear.
