Snow and Sunday Evening, illustrated –

A picture saves a thousand words.  I wonder what a vid saves, then?  I sent the vid.  Now, I send pictures, just odds and ends from the end of one world and the beginning of another.  Take heart; life rolls on, don’t it?

The face I long to see (one of them, actually). North light, a little clipped.

The pumpkin bread pudding I found in Better Homes and could not resist trying.  In the end, I liked it way more than I like pumpkin pie.  And I really, really like pumpkin pie.  Hurray for me cooking at least once a year.  Next time, it’s Rhode Island spinach pies.

This is what I’m thinking we might do to the house.  Kind of.  Maybe not.  And yeah.  The picture’s crooked.

This is what I look at every morning when I climb the gate to feed the beasts.

Or this.  It is not generally known that snow is actually made of glitter.  You can’t see it well here, but you will later on.

Winter has its moments.  This would be more beautiful if I hadn’t been freezing at the barn as I took it.

Zion, heating himself up.  Horses turn hay into melting snow.  He doesn’t exactly look underfed, eh?

Glitter.  I kept trying to shoot it, but it’s hard, hard – so much I have to learn about setting white points and controlling my camera – no longer the manual jockey, me.  It’s automation,  great when you really understand it.  About the glitter: sometimes those pricks of brilliance are so bright, you have to shade your eyes.  As though you had happened on mounded cream frosted with diamonds.  And sometimes, when the circumstances are just so, all of those points shoot color – then it’s not diamonds, but treasure – sapphire, emerald, ruby, amethyst all colors, shimmering, coruscant, ephemeral.  But still cold, darn it.

Two big dogs out in the snow.  One scraping the car.

One smarter dog, staying inside.

One garage, wishing it were inside, too. (More glitter – tons, just depends on your angle and position to the surface.)

The Loud Family, training its young.

The young, soaking in the lesson.  

We could also be called The Singing Family.

You cannot get the full effect of Scooter’s dance with a flash.  Thus, we are stuck with Tungsten lighting, which I am too stupid to know how to get around.  But here you see the initiatory stages – one hand goin’—

Here we are in full flight.

Doesn’t he look like he should be wearing a yarmulke and sidelocks?

Nephews.  This is my husband’s side of the family (as though mine were any less silly).

This is MY side of the family.  Because I choose her.  Gootchy, gootchy Niece-baby.

The sober Derek.  Grandpa Q must have run out of song.

Ah.  Better now.

GG is the quiet side of the loud family.  She’s the one on the left.  Les is NOT the quiet side.

This one  is also MY side of the fam.  For the same reason.  GG’s wittle girl – growing up nice.

Chaz, with her black prosthetic hand appendage (brain appendage?).  And here is the L, with High Def small video cam in hand (cam and Cam).  Like mother-in-law, like daughter-in-law.  And how cool is that?