I lost my camera month ago when I took my sister and my niece to The Nutcracker. We had one of those fun, fancy outings where we went to lunch and went to the ballet and participated in the Sugar Plum party afterwards. It was a great day. Except that the camera has not been seen since that day.
I've made phone calls, searched my car and begged and pleaded to find the camera. I feared that I dropped it in the snowbank along my driveway or that I misplaced it in all the hubbub of our big day. I've gone through my car no less than three times searching for it in every corner and crevice.
Then things got really bad: I started dreaming about it. I would wake up from a dream so happy because I found my camera. It was in my hands again and I was taking pictures and uploading them recording the big events and daily minutia that made up my life. Only to realize that my discovery was a dream.
Sunday after church, I was loading five kidkins into the car for our weekly after-church party at my house when I caught a glint of sunshine off something in the cubby of the passenger door. As I reached down and touched it, I nearly hyperventilated and started screaming--an act while not premeditated was NOT a good idea with five children around me. I started babbling incoherently: My camera! My camera! I found my camera! I've been praying about it! I've been praying about it! My prayers were answered. I found my camera!
I felt like I had won the lottery. I knew I loved my camera. I knew that I missed it. But until you nearly burst into tears in front of the preschool crowd because you found your favorite, lost, digital appendage, you have no idea how much you missed said appendage.
So for your delight and mine, I recharged the battery, loaded her up and snapped away the day I found it. It just happened to be Sunday dinner at the parents' house. Okay, with a few shots of my place too.
This was the last photo on the camera taken from the back seat of the car on the way up to the ballet. Look at the wild socks. Any guess who?
My favorite little lamp that sits on the counter and makes me think "cottage" every time I look at it.
I don't think I ever shared the new black linen cupboard that has now been residing at my house for several months. I break into a smile every time I look at it. It expands the shelf space of my bathroom by, oh, let's see, 200%?
Pillows on the couch. I've got to find new pillows--or, gasp! make new pillows--but the pillow effect is a must for the couch.
The kitchen is clean. It's not been so clean the last week with all my cooking adventures, but when it is clean, I like to record it. For posterity, that is. For posterity that doesn't exist yet, but if they ever do, I'm hoping they will like my cooking. Or at least know how to properly admire my kitchen when it is clean.
Miss P. She's one of the reasons cooking has been fun. She hung out with me the other night and we made cookies. She said next we are going to attempt pie. I say attempt is an appropriate verb because pie is not yet something in my repertoire. She assured me she would assist me.
Mr. K. with a rubik's cube. I hated those things as a kid. Never figured mine out. I finally just pulled the whole thing apart and put it back together manually with all the right colors. Then I never touched it again. I'm not much of a puzzler.
Oh, she loves having her picture taken. Yes, she does. She'd much rather be on the other side of the camera but I caught her anyway. She and Cissy were discussing important and crucial things pertaining to Redroko. You visited it lately? You should. Exciting things are happening over there.
Miss Belle. Lovely dress from mama's recent trip to China. Prepping for her role as big sister and working on her ABCs. Smart little cookie, that one.
Uncle Rus in one of his many moments of glory at the Sunday dinner table.
Mattie--I think this is a particularly good shot of him. Great smile. I think we were talking about our trip to the cabin at the time and that always makes everybody smile.
Little Mr. A. He was sick, sick, sick. Seemed to hit him after they showed up. He wasn't his usual rambunctious self and just wanted to sit in mama's lap and cuddle.
Aunt Diana. The yellow paper in her hands was for notes we were writing to her missionary daughter, Lauren. Lauren, we hope you feel our love out there.
So after five weeks and one day, the camera has returned to its rightful place inside my purse. You can bet I'll be even more diligent about its location from here on out. At least I'm not particularly interested in crying in front of the kidkins any time soon. It scared them.