Cat-Cloud Lady

I take pictures. Probably too many.

In fact, I'm slightly concerned that if I die in a freak accident, whoever finds me will turn on my phone, hoping to find a contact number, hoping to find some trace of family- next of kin- hoping for some sort of proof that I lived...

and all they will find are pictures of clouds.

And that's weird. 

I don't want to go out like Cat-Ladies do.

You know.

"The cat lady died." "How sad." "Yeah, I heard the only way anyone knew she was dead is that her cats sent out an SOS message." "Well, yeah, she didn't have any friends... all she had was cats."

The poor person who finds me will think the same thing. "Daughter? She had a daughter? Nope. I'm pretty sure all this lady had was a creepy obsession of clouds."

I don't want to be the creepy cloud lady. But I fear I am turning into just such a woman. I told you that my friend and I took a road trip from Santa Fe to Dallas. I probably didn't tell you that I added an entire hour to the trip by asking her to stop so I could take pictures... of seemingly nothing. Empty fields with a single windmill. Sunrays bursting out of a patch of clouds hovering over a dry, dusty oil field. Flowers. Stray, ugly flowers.

Recently, before diving into a study of scripture, she and I were sharing coffee with our girlfriends on a porch near a busy parking lot. Within a matter of minutes the clouds above our heads collided with the setting sun to make a beautiful mural of cotton candy, swirly, rich, sad, majestic strokes of beauty.

"Excuse me," I said while I excitedly fumbled for my phone, "I have to go get pictures of those clouds."

As I walked off, I heard my friend say, "She does that. She takes pictures of clouds. That's kind of her thing."

I'm such a cat lady.

And the thing is- I'm not even a real photographer in the same way that I am not even a real singer.

I'm ashamed to say that I could not read a note of music to save my life.

I don't sight read. I don't have any vibrato in my voice. I don't know what key I sing songs in. I don't even know how many keys there are. I don't have proper breath control and I don't do any of the right things to get ready for shows. I don't warm my voice up. And though the voice doctor told me I needed to forever swear off caffeine, wine, chocolate, whistling and milk... I still find that the best way to get myself ready to go on stage is by drinking a double-tall, extra hot, mocha with extra whip cream. And I will never stop whistling.

I take pictures the same way. On my iPhone. Which usually has a lens that is covered in a film of Annie's goldfish or apple juice. Gruby-finger-osmosis covers the lens for so long I'm unaware it's even there. And I use the word "lens" lightly. It is the only lens I am familiar with. My sister has a fancy shmancy camera. I could sell it and pay rent for two or three months. It's real nice. But I wouldn't know how to use it... to me it looks like a big, black, clunky monster. It gives me the willies.

I just sing. And I just take pictures. And I just write.

I could be a lot better at all of them. If I had discipline and structure and a wee bit more education, perhaps I could even shine. But I'm not terribly interested in being an expert at anything. There are lots of experts. Rightfully so. Someone has to be a "real" singer. A "real" photographer. A "real" author. They are worthy and high artistic callings. And the people who master the ins and outs of their crafts fly to places that perhaps I will never see. And they bring the rest of us with them. I have relinquished the pages of fame and history to them.

But me? I have accepted my plight as a simple person who lacks a bit of discipline or proper know-how and makes up for it with a propensity to live with my eyes open. To live without holding back. To go for it...

even if I don't reach it the proper way

the way someone more qualified than me might.

That's how my pictures get here. I just go for it. I take pictures. I don't stop to think about how silly it is that I think I am taking professional pictures- with the best of them- on my iPhone 3G. I don't think how absurd it is that I'm scurrying out of coffee meetings and pulling over on the side of highways to take pictures with my dinky camera and dinky knowledge of how to properly shoot a picture of a flower or a sunset. I don't think that way.

In fact, most of the times, I don't think.

I do. I act. I capture and bottle it up and let it come back out.

And I do so because...

well,

I like it.

So maybe I will come across like the cat lady. But you know what? She probably really loved those nasty, gangly little cats. All 37 of them. Just the way I love my cloud pictures. All 370 million of them.

So- I hope you enjoy browsing through my pictures. I'm an amateur. But, in my book, that's an ok title to have. Amateur.

Whatever you are an amateur at... 

remember, sometimes you have to

Do it without thinking. Love it. Embrace it.

You don't have to be professionally trained. You just need a little passion. 

To see more of my pictures, visit my flicker site. Click on this link or copy and paste: http://www.flickr.com/photos/34136456@N08/

Pictures

hello friends!

I've missed you! I've been doing the camp thing. One week with Lifeway's FUGE camp in Glorieta, New Mexico. And this past week in the beautiful, but terribly dry, Glen Rose, TX with a bunch of crazy Texas kids!

(Side note: if you are headed to Glen Rose, TX anytime soon I highly recommend pie from Pie Peddlers. I would plan on eating at least three slices. In order: Everyberry. Buttermilk. Chocolate meringue. Pie Peddlers is located on the charming historic square and besides the absolutely to die for pies, the retired school teachers who whip up the creations from scratch and greet each customer at the door will make you delightfully happy. Next, head on over to Storiebook Cafe. Storie is the owner- and she's always there reading a book to children, chatting up the locals, or sliding on the wooden bookshelf ladder. She has basically created her own magical kingdom. I should know. I went there three days in a row! And finally, finish off your gluttonous day right. Hammonds BBQ. Just trust me.)

(side note to the side note: I am officially on a diet. I will not eat ribs and pie on the same day ever again. I promise.)

I've posted new pictures from my trips- you know, mostly of clouds and flowers and windmills and Annie- the normal random Jenny stuff! So if you are bored, feel free to browse and leave comments if you like what you see!

All you have to do is click here.

Or follow this link: http://www.flickr.com/photos/34136456@N08/

I have not forgotten about the music series; camps have just made it a bit hard to get my grown-up work done. So don't worry! I will answer every question that was submitted. Until then, enjoy the new pictures and the update on my homeless friend, Dexter.

Mom Week in Pictures

the art class

the zoo

Annie desperately wants the gorilla to kiss her. She gives the whole lot of them as many kisses as her lips allow. God only knows what kind of germs got into her mouth while she smooched the glass and hoped for contact.

the tent town

the- "my eyes burn" -sunglasses

She wore them every morning while watching Yo Gabba Gabba. She asked for them after she rubbed her eyes, slapped her eyes, pulled her eyelids, and- quite brilliantly- tried putting spit in her eyes. Maybe I should've given her eyedrops or closed the curtains, but it was way too entertaining to watch.  So, after all her other attempts failed- she asked for her sunglasses. Brilliant little bugger.

the mom moments

Well, ok. That moment was just for me. But at the end of a long summer week, every mom needs this kind of moment.

(And husbands, if you can't find one of those for her, I am sure a pedicure, night out, glass of wine, or a "Honey, why don't you go to Barnes and Noble and read for a few hours" would totally suffice.)

What are you doing with your kids this summer?

Rescue Me

Wait...

please don't.

Just let me die here.

Annie and I had an amazing trip to Hawaii visiting my sister Melissa. It was perfect until we had to come home :) We missed Ryan though;  so the eight hour plane ride (seven and a half of which my precious daughter decided not to sleep), five hour time zone change, and Texas heat were well worth the journey home.  I'll be back to writing soon. Until then, enjoy my Hawaii pictures here.

Two Cute Stories Plus Three

Warning: This post talks about "private parts." You have been warned.

She's laying on the couch, no diaper, legs splayed open.

Touching her private parts she says, "Owie mommy. Owie mommy." There is no diaper rash,  no redness, nothing that I can really see. But she insists. "Owie mommy. Owie mommy."

Being the touchy-feely mommy that I am, "owie mommy" always gets the same response and so she says:

"Kiss it mommy. Kiss it mommy."

I start laughing. "I can't kiss it Annie. You're fine sweetie. OH! Look! Yo Gabba is on!"

I try distraction.

"Kiiiiisssss it mommy."

I kind of panic. I am not thinking clearly enough to do what my mom later told me to do- which is kiss my fingers, and then place them on her owie. Nope. I'm just thinking "how do I explain to her why I can't kiss it." And there I am really trying to explain to her why I cannot kiss her private-part-owie.

My own steadfast teaching, that kissing makes everything better, backfires. In a rage she sits up and puts her hands on my cheeks and screams:

"KISS IT MOOOOOOMMMMMYYYYY. KISS IT. KISS IT. PLEASE."

I've never seen her so mad at me. She starts crying. And there I sit, a blubbering idiot, with fearful eyes, my head between her legs- and her hands grabbing my face- telling her things like, "Nobody is allowed to kiss your private parts. Never!" and "One day this story will be really embarrassing, you'll be really glad I didn't do it" and "I'm so sorry you have an owie, that's the kind of owie that only a diaper can kiss better, let the diaper kiss it!"

What? What in the world is wrong with me?

Mom moment failure.

***

I'm cooking dinner and she is in the living room watching Nick Jr. and playing with her dolls. The little guy on TV tells her to name the things that she sees on the beach and I hear her: Sand. And water. And birdies. And fishies. And apple pet.

Apple pet? I stop stirring. She says it again. Apple pet. What in the world is an apple pet?

I walk in the room and there on the center of the screen is a bright red crab scurrying across the sand. She knows lots of animals but we've never talked about a crab. She sees his bright red body and thinks he's an apple... that has grown legs and a mouth... therefore...

he is an apple pet.

Brilliant little child she is.

Every time we see the crab now I say, "OH! apple pet!"

She looks at me impatiently, "No mommy. It's a crab!"

***

I am strapping her into her car seat last week, when she grabs my face in her hands...

"I think you're CUTE mommy!"

***

During her first thunderstorm last week we are explaining that the big booms and bolts of lightning are supposed to happen during a rain storm. That means the sky is making lots of rain to feed the trees and plants and that's a good thing. That means they are doing a good job.

Well, anytime you do a "good job" at our house, I do a victory dance and then I yell "HOORAY for Annie!!!" Most of our days are spent screaming, dancing, painting, and yelling hooray while simultaneously kissing things. So as the thunder went off, she realized it was doing what it was supposed to do, which meant it was doing a good job.

For the better part of an hour she sat in front of her window watching the lighting and thunder, screaming and dancing with her hands above her head, "Hooray thunder! hooray thunder! Hooooooraaaaayyyy thunder!"

***

As I tucked her into bed late last night I told her, "Sleep well doodle bug! In the morning we will have cinnamon toast and yogurt."

She sits straight up, eyes closed because she is mostly asleep, and pulls her pacifier out of her mouth.

"No! Bacon. And Eggs. And Pancakes. And waffles."

She lays back down and I don't hear a peep from her until this morning at 9:00 a.m.

"I awake mommy. I need cimamamon toast and yogurt mommy."

***

I love being her mom.

***

For more Annie pics using my new iphone app, Camera +, check out my flicker link:

jenny's photos