by Sarah | Sep 11, 2011 | Photography, Scavenger Hunt Sunday, Weekly Winners
All taken w/ Canon Rebel XS.
Just like last week I’m doing multiple pictures for each Scavenger Hunt item. I struggled to get them all this week and ideas I had for them fell through. I was a little distracted by other endeavors…in the end, I was happy with my results, though.
1. Flying High
Joy is not in things, it is in us. ~Richard Wagner
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The American flag is the most recognized symbol of freedom and democracy in the world. ~Virginia Foxx
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Be like that bird that, pausing in her flight awhile on boughs too slight, feels them give way beneath her, and yet sings, knowing that she hath wings. ~Victor Hugo
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2. Process of Elimination
For this we had to do what it took to make the picture framed right. Due to location I had to use the cropping technique. The second image is exactly what I had in mind for it.
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3. Statues
This statue is in a local park. It is in honor of the children lost to us too young. She is called the Angel of Hope. (There is one more picture in the final group of images today, of the inscription carved into the marble stand)
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4. Bokeh
The bud may have a bitter taste, but sweet will be the flower. ~William Cowper
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I saw the love of God in the firemen and policemen who gave their lives that others might live on September 11th. ~Paul Keenan
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5. Remember
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We must never forget those towers falling and all those innocent people who were working there, especially the police and firemen who sacrificed their lives trying to help them. ~Don Reed
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You can find more pictures over at my flickr account.
Weekly Winners is the brainchild of the ever fabulous and gorgeous Lotus. Head on over to her place to see more fabulous winners.
Scavenger Hunt Sunday is run by the beautiful Ashley. Head on over to see more Hunters.
by Sarah | Sep 10, 2011 | All About Family
I posted this last year and the year before at this time. I’m re-posting it. I will always repost it every year at this time…
I know what tomorrow is. I know what it means to our country. I remember every detail of 2001 in vivid detail…but since before 2001, this date has been difficult for me, for my family…in 1996 my family’s core was lost, the heart of us…my grandfather…so my post on 9/11 is for him. Oh, and at surface glance I hate this picture of me, but then I see the pure joy on my face dancing with my grandfather and aesthetics be damned, it’s my favorite picture.
It was his birthday. I was young and such a very short kid…and he was TALL. I remember watching him put our coats in the closet and staring up, up, up at him and asking, “How tall are you?” With his sparkling eyes and laugh he informed me that he was over 6′. My eyes grew wide, and all I could say was, “But you’re so close to the ceiling! If you have ANY more birthdays you’ll go right through!”
His chair sat by the front door and the minute he sat the race was on – who would get the privilege of sitting on his lap, carrying on as deep a conversation as a child was capable of. Who would get to play with his round pot belly, and listen to his laughter.
He worked for GM and he was proud of it, and so were we.
When I close my eyes I can still smell his pipe and see the pipe carousel on his dresser. I can smell the cigarettes that he and grandma smoked.
I remember that after he retired he would watch soap operas during lunch.
And I remember the weddings – when my cousin and I would trade off and share him for the dance. “Grampa” by the Judds.
I remember his smile.
I remember his belly.
I remember the strength that he always carried in his soul and body.
I remember the pain that shot through my heart at the word…”cancer”. Once it was uttered it was less than a year. 10 months.
I remember the first time I saw him in the hospital-and how I had to run from the room because it made me physically ill to see my big strong grandfather lying in a bed weak and hooked up to tubes.
I remember his fight.
I remember when it was acknowledged in our hearts that the time to fight was over.
I remember how he held on – hours past when we thought we would lose him – because he would not let go until he’d gotten to hear the good-bye of all of his grandchildren, and my brother had been in surgery for his shattered wrist. Half an hour after the final phone call, he was gone.
I remember the sound of the tennis balls scattering across the hallway when my professor’s assistant walked up asking if she knew where I was…and all I could do was run to my car to get home as soon as I could.
From there it’s a blur…a long car ride from NC to NY. The arrangements. The funeral home. The droves of people I didn’t know, but who all knew him, overflowing the room.
The pain has lessened, resorted to a memory. For the most part I remember the love, the good things, the joy. But on this day every year the pain comes back to the forefront.
This year the pain seems so much stronger – now that Grandma has gone to join him. Refreshed and renewed. Now they are together forever, but they will always be here in our hearts.
We love you still, and will always love you, Grampa.
by Sarah | Sep 8, 2011 | All About Molly, Autism, Special Needs
[flickr id=”5800817094″ thumbnail=”small” overlay=”true” size=”small” group=”” align=”left”]Tomorrow we meet with the school.
One year later and I still can’t muster any enthusiasm for the special services department.
Yes. Riley did improve last year. She did learn a lot.
Still it seems as if it’s always a secondary thought. Like she’s lost in the sea of students. Like her needs are not as important as some other students.
We’ll see how the IEP goes.
If we find progress and hope.
All fingers are crossed.
But we’ll see.
by Sarah | Sep 8, 2011 | Challenge
This week my prompt came from femmefauxpas. My prompt was “Not everyone deserves a second chance.”
Several ideas came to light – but what the muse settled on is a teeny short that sort of sets up one of my novels.
*~*~*~*
“Clara.”
Her back stiffened, her fingers curling in until her nails dug into her palms. Why couldn’t he have stood by and let her lead this one? Her future depended on it. Well, more accurately her sons did.
Everything depended on the devil’s trust for her to handle this, but he never would. Somehow she had to succeed. To save her son. To make sure he survived when she was sure she wouldn’t.
She didn’t need to.
It was too late for her. Far too many sins had been made thanks to her stupidity. Now was the time to try to make it right.
“Don’t make any stupid mistakes.”
His breath brushed her ear, lifting a tendril of hair that fluttered down to tickle her ear lobe. The lump that had started to form in her throat was forced aside by her heavy swallow. “Don’t trust your own training?”
“No. It’s you I don’t trust.”
“Fitting. I don’t trust you. Since you taught me to be like this, I guess you shouldn’t trust me. But what can I do? Any move I make will end in my death.”
“Just do what you’re supposed to.” His body bumped into hers as a long off whistle sounded alerting the crowded platform of the approaching train. It would be a through train, theirs wasn’t due for ten minutes. “I have much revenge to reap.”
“That’s what I’m worried about,” Clara muttered under her breath.
“Here comes your husband. I’m watching. This is your only chance.”
The smile she plastered on was forced and as fake as the life she was wearing, but it would have to do. Knowing the devil was watching your every move made life so uneasy a genuine emotion like happiness was tough to come by.
“Here you go,Constance.” Jake handed her the ticket for her luggage, “For safe keeping my dear.”
Somehow he kissed her on the cheek without grimacing. She knew he was pretending she wasConstance. Denying the truth she’d spilled to him the day before. It wouldn’t last, but she could pretend for him. She had to with the glimmering set of chocolate brown eyes watching her every move. “Thank you.”
Once the ticket had been slipped into her purse his arm looped with hers and he led her closer to the edge of the platform. “Is he watching now, Clara?”
“Not now, Jake.” Clara used every bit of effort to keep her stance relaxed. If he moved even the slightest bit closer he’d hear everything. “There won’t be any safety until we are inGeorgia.”
“So then he is. Which one is he?” There was no way to stop him before he started to look. Jake was no good at pretending, and soon it would be all over.
Panic struck her before she could stop it and she gripped his arm, “Stop. Do not look for him or we are both dead.”
“I think you underestimate the power of money, Clara.”
“She never underestimates the power of money,” the devil’s cool voice interrupted any reply she might have mustered.
This was it. The end.
As his cool eyes fixed on hers, the evil light held a hint of giddy joy. His frown dipped low, “And here I thought you deserved a second chance, Clara. My mistake.”
And then her fractured world shattered into a million pieces. The scream of the through train’s whistle signaling the chaotic descent into a deeper hell than she’d already been through.
*~*~*~*~*
by Sarah | Sep 6, 2011 | All About Me, All of Us, Crap
[flickr id=”6110555951″ thumbnail=”small” overlay=”true” size=”small” group=”” align=”left”] One day will they look back and think of their childhood with a smile like I do?
Or will they remember the screaming Mommy monster.
Will they feel they were robbed of delights and joys because our money is so tight?
Or will they think we gave them everything they truly needed?
Hindsight is 20/20 and there are days I have such regrets. I feel like such a failure.
Then I turn around and see them thriving in their own areas and ways. And I again think I’m not as bad a parent as I fear.
Right now I’m in the abstract. There are more tomorrows than there are yesterdays…then again for Brandon there are more yesterdays than tomorrows in his time under our care.
I struggle. I worry. I fight for the happy memories and try to look past what might not be so good.
I hate the abstract…
But I am working to enjoy every moment of it that I can. It’s the only way we can hope to give them happy hindsight.
