Just as I was putting on my coat and preparing to leave my dear friend's annual cookie party, her father says to me, "So, Carrie, would you like a case of grapefruit before you leave? I still have 15 cases in the garage. You know, we've been selling them all these years. They even gave us a plaque at our 25th year." How could I refuse him? His twinkly big eyes and sweet smile. Plus, the guilt. In some twisted way I felt a tiny bit responsible for his grapefruit selling endeavors all this time. I winced a smidge and said, "I would love a case."
Perhaps it was a Friday night. Maybe Saturday. I can't be sure. But I do know I was babysitting. My regular babysitting job. Which was how I spent most of my weekends in high school. (And let me tell you, that's not exactly a bad thing. Kept me out of trouble. For the most part.) One of my dear friends, whom my father to this day continues to call "my little Ice Cube", was with me. I'm not sure if she just stopped by or if I had invited her earlier in the day but there we were. At the Belli's. I had my portable typewriter and white-out in front of me and I was diligently working on my application for an AFS student exchange program. I had been unsuccessful at convincing my mother to let me go for my entire junior year and had finally succumbed to the realization that a summer exchange would be better than nothing.
I don't know if it is because my father was in the Navy, traveling the world and then coming home to share his tales or if it's a genetic tic I was born with, but I have always had the travel bug. And I can't help infecting other people with it especially when I'm in a particularly hyper energetic state in regards to travel. And so it was that in that one seemingly benign evening, I convinced my dear friend to fill out an exchange student application as well. Until she walked in the front door of my babysitting job, she had no intention of leaving home the following summer. And her parents didn't realize that they'd spend the next 25 plus years selling grapefruit.
Isn't it fascinating to look back in your life and pick out those times when your life changed in an instant? Or when you changed somebody else's?
We sent out our applications that fall and spent the next few months being interviewed, hosting other exchange students for a week or two, anxiously awaiting our placements and selling grapefruit at Christmas...the annual AFS fundraiser. Ok, ok, I should probably say that my parents actually sold the grapefruit. For a few years.
The following summer, my dear friend saw me off at the airport as I boarded a plane for Portugal. A few weeks later she would board one for Iceland.
We often talk about how that summer away changed our lives. About how that one evening changed hers. And until a month ago, I hadn't realized how my insistence that she fill out an application had changed her parents lives as well. Keeping up the grapefruit beat and all.
A Refreshing Grapefruit and Greens Salad
Yes, I am certifiably soup crazy. My family has soup at least 4 nights a week. I can't help it. It's easy. There is only one pot to clean. And it keeps me warm on cold winter evenings. (Nevermind that it's been 10 degrees warmer than usual for this time of year for the past month.) Sometimes though, I don't want soup. I want something lighter. More refreshing. And with the lack of fresh produce at this time of year, that request can be challenging. But lucky me, I have an entire case of grapefruit I'm still trying to get through, and so I've been turning to this salad to fulfill my request. And let me just say that each forkful is like a bite of summer here in the depths of winter. And right about now when my Vitamin D levels are at their annual low point, I can use all the summer I can get.
If you've never sectioned a grapefruit before, get ready for some fun. I'm attaching a couple "How To" videos for your viewing pleasure. Click here for the Granny demo or here for the young dude demo.
Ingredients:
a handful or two of salad greens - arugula, red lettuce, baby spinach, etc.
thinly sliced red onion
5 or 6 sections of Ruby Red grapefruit
optional: crumbled goat cheese
1 tbsp red wine vinegar
1 tbsp minced shallot
1 tsp fresh thyme leaves, coarsely chopped
pinch of salt
3-4 tbsp olive oil
Directions:
Combine your vinegar, shallot, thyme leaves and salt in a medium-sized bowl and set aside. This will allow the vinegar to "pickle" the shallot a bit before you stir in the olive oil.
Meanwhile, section your grapefruit. Then, put a handful of greens on a plate. Top with your grapefruit sections, the red onion and your goat cheese.
Go back to your vinaigrette bowl. Slowly pour your olive oil into the vinegar mixture while continually whisking the mixture together. This will allow the oil and vinegar to emulsify or to blend together. How much olive oil you add depends on how "vinegary" you like your dressings. I prefer 4 tablespoons.
Spoon the desired amount of vinaigrette on your salad. Then pick up a fork and enjoy the unexpected sweetness of the grapefruit as contrasted against the tartness of the vinaigrette and all held together by the greens. Ahh...le pamplemousse!
Organizing Project:
Jan 17-23: Cleaned out dreaded toy/game/puzzle shelves.
Jan 24-30: Pull everything out of dreaded under-stairs closet including the Bat Cave at the far end. (Do you see how I'm giving myself baby steps? I'm not saying organize the whole darned thing. Let's just start by pulling everything out. I'm frightened.)
All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2010
There I was in organizing bliss. Well, actually, scratch that. I was hyperventilating and covered in perspiration as I surveyed the boxes of games and puzzles with missing pieces and cried out in desperation, "Someone get me an Old Fashioned!" even though I don't drink Old Fashioneds but my Granny always used to ask for them and so I thought I would too. However, regardless of all that, I was actually organizing. And I wanted to continue organizing. Mother Nature had cancelled our plans for skiing and a commitment-free 3-day weekend lay before me. Since I had announced publicly on this here blog that I would be organizing weekly, I was feeling the pressure. People would be asking me how it was going. I had to have something to report back.
Deep in concentration assembling a Madeline puzzle, (I can't in good conscience donate a puzzle with missing parts, now can I?) my daughter flits by and says, "So, I'm having two people spend the night Sunday and we're making cookies for Ronald McDonald house for our community service project." To which I respond, "Yes, that's what we agreed on." "Okay," she says back and then adds on, "Oh, and some of us are talking about going to a movie. I don't know, like, tomorrow or something." "Oh, okay," I say non-chalantly to her while silently cursing this puzzle with its odd shaped pieces.
A few hours later, I am beside myself with frustration. "Where is the humongous fungus?! Nobody in their right mind will want to play Shrek Operation with a missing body part." Coming through a bin of random toy parts, I search for the humongous fungus. Seemingly out of nowhere, I detect my daughter's legs just outside the bin. She speaks to me saying, "Okay, so the 1:50 pm movie on Sunday works best but we might change it to Monday. We thought cookies from 4-6p on Sunday would be good but if the movie happens we'll do cookies on Monday. (pause) Oh, and Betty is coming too." To this last bit I pop my head up, "Wait a minute. I said two people. That's it." "But, Mom, Betty needs her community service too and we were already talking about it at school and I forgot." Overwhelmed with the amount of details coming at me and around me, I sigh and say, "Fine...but that's it. And who's taking you to the movies?" "Probably one of the other Moms."
Still perspiring but making progress, I had different piles going. One labeled, "Ready to Donate." Another labeled, "Missing pieces." And a final one, "Too far gone." Isn't it interesting how not one child has touched these items in years, but the minute I pull them out and spruce them up, it's like Christmas all over again? Out of the corner of my eye, I see the 5-year old taking apart the car carrier with all of its car pieces I had diligently located and before I could begin to address that situation, my daughter appears again saying something like, "Okay, Mom. So here's the plan. Betty, Barbara, Missy and Cindy are going to the movies with me. Dad is dropping us off. You can pick us up after you pick-up my dear brother from the party. Then, Cindy, Barbara and Betty will be arriving at 6pm for the sleepover. Linda will be coming at 8pm. We'll make cookies in the morning. Oh, but Betty has to leave early so you can just take me, Cindy, Barbara and Linda to drop off the cookies later that afternoon." I sat there...stunned. All I could manage to do was look at her and say, "Wait...what?" Somehow I knew I was being scammed but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.
Mid-weekend, I moved my unfinished organizing project to a corner of the room, knowing that the floor space would need to be available later that evening for sleeping teenage girls. At least, I hoped they would be sleeping. I called my daughter down to the room and asked her to sit down. "Now, here's the deal. I said two people. Somehow it's now four people which is fine...but here are the rules. I'm not okay with 5 in the morning bedtime. Look in my eyes. Right here." "I'm looking." "All lights and screens must be off by 1am which means if you want to watch a movie by what time do you need to start it?" "I know Mom." "No tell me, what is the latest time you can start the movie?" "11pm" "Right. And no kitchen raids after midnight. Say it, no kitchen raids after...?" "Midnight." "Lights and screens off by....?" "I know, Mom." "Tell me." With a giant exhale, she says, "1am." "I'm trusting you to be in charge of your friends." "I know." And with that I start up the stairs. "Uh...Mom?" my daughter calls up to me. "What?" "Well, I'm just asking you because they were asking me and I told them I would ask you but would it be okay if Louisa came too?" "No."
The evening progressed like any teenage slumber party would. They were polite at dinner. Ate their chili. Said please and thank you. Cleared their dishes. But once my sweetie and I had retired to our bedroom, they raided the kitchen after midnight. Ran around the house whispering and giggling until 2am. At 4am, my sweetie finally went downstairs to remind them that five hours of cookie baking lay ahead of them and it would be best if they got some sleep.
Bleary-eyed the next morning (or should I say a few hours later?) they reluctantly started mixing up cookie dough. "How many cookies do we need? Four dozen cooked plus dough for the freezer. Why do they need dough for the freezer? I don't know. Just do it." They mixed. They rolled. They baked. They asked if they could take a break and walk down to Starbucks. I said no but pointed to the pile of dishes they could do and continued chatting with my neighbor who had kindly come over for moral support. They sighed. They washed. They dried. They decorated. They sprinkled. They packaged. And finally, they loaded up and we headed to the Ronald McDonald house. Driving there, exhausted, I thought to myself, "Never again."
The house was quiet but warm. The girls presented their goods to the manager on site. She asked them if they knew what purpose the Ronald Mcdonald house served. They nodded yes. She gave them statistics about how many families lived there at one time. What kind of patients they usually had there. The girls listened to her attentively. She explained to them that the house was quiet now because the children were out getting their chemo treatments. It was in that moment that I saw a softening of their faces. She took them to a bulletin board with photos of all the families currently living there. Names and faces made these unknown patients become real for them. Finally, she said to them, "I bet you're wondering why we asked for the unbaked cookie dough?" Again, they nodded yes. "Because within an hour of arriving at the hospital they take on the smell of the hospital. It's in their hair. Their clothes. Their skin. The smell of baking cookies helps mask that smell and makes this place feel more like...a home for them. And then, of course, the cookies themselves are a nice treat." I looked over at the girls. All of the "teenageresque" attitude had disappeared and they stood there with genuine interest and concern at what they were being told. Perhaps realizing that what had seemed like a chore for them, meant so much to someone else.
"They just want to smell cookies baking," I kept thinking to myself as I dropped each girl off at her home. All of the anxiety about organizing and teenage slumber parties and the chore of baking cookies suddenly seemed so trivial when compared to simply wanting the smell of freshly baked cookies to mask the smell of sickness. And it was in that moment that I knew I should never have said never because I would absolutely do it all again just to fulfill that one simple request.
Tying up a few loose ends from my last post....
And the winner of the Seattle's Best Coffee Curiosity Pack, as chosen by the 5-year old, is:
I know where to find you. I will hand deliver it to you. Enjoy.....
I've had a few of you stop me in my tracks to let me know you made the White Bean and Kale Soup Peppered with Pancetta and you couldn't believe it, your family loved it, "green stuff and all." For a live version of how to make that soup, here's a video of yours truly whipping it up with Helen on AM Northwest.
If a video screen does not appear above this line, click here to be taken directly to the site.
Lighten Up Chili
This is a chili recipe that I go back to time and time again. Everyone loves it. It's easy to make. And with snow rain and Super Bowl season upon us, it's a good one to have on hand. I usually make this with 2 pounds of ground beef but because our family isn't eating as much beef as we used to, I decided to lighten it up with half ground turkey, half ground beef and you know....I liked it even better. I will give those of you with a delicate system sensitive to the ways of beans fair warning to perhaps discreetly take a beano or two before consuming this Chili....not that I would have any personal experience with that or anything. And, of course, this dish is always a hit with the teenager bunch. You can see that I had to scrape the pot just to have a couple tablespoons to photograph for you sweet people.
Ingredients:
2 tbsp olive oil
1 lb lean ground beef
1 lb ground turkey
salt and pepper
1 medium yellow onion, diced
1 c celery, diced, about 2-3 stalks
1 red pepper, seeded and diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 15 oz can diced or whole tomatoes with juice
1 15 oz can tomato sauce
1 6 oz can tomato paste
2 tsp cumin
3 tsp chili powder
1-2 tsp red pepper flakes, depending on how spicy you like it
optional: 1 tsp of granulated sugar
1 15 oz can kidney beans, drained
1 15 oz can black beans, drained
Toppings: grated cheddar cheese and chopped green onions
Directions:
In a heavy-bottomed soup pot, heat your olive oil. Brown your ground beef and turkey over medium heat. Drain grease if necessary but remember that a little bit of grease can add a lot of flavor.
Add your onion, celery and red pepper to the pot with the meat and saute 5 minutes of so. Add your garlic and saute another minute or two.
Add your tomatoes, tomato sauce, tomato paste, cumin, chili powder and red pepper flakes. Stir to combine. Taste. Depending on the canned tomatoes you used, you may find you need to add a teaspoon of granulated sugar to sweeten it up just a bit.
Bring to a boil, then reduce your heat and simmer for 1 hour.
Add your beans and simmer 30 more minutes. Taste and add salt and pepper if necessary. Ladle into bowls and serve with grated cheese and green onions. Enjoy.
(For the teenager set, I also put out a bowl of Cowboy Caviar, homemade guacamole, tortillas chips and a plate of sliced apples. They devoured it all.)
Yield: One big pot full.
Organizing Project:
Jan 10-16: Only made it halfway through dreaded toy/game closet before I had to step out for oxygen.
Jan 17-23: Finish dreaded toy/game closet.
How are you all doing with your organizing? I've heard from more than a few of you who originally said you weren't joining me in the insanity and now..... while I'm still trying to get through one closet, you've sorted through multiple rooms, entire wardrobes and even laid down beautiful new contact paper in kitchen cupboards. "Sigh..." I'm so proud of you. (Or, do I detect a little competition going on here? Game on!)
All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2010
"I feel like a...like a...sh@$ shoveler. I can't help it and I know I'm like a broken record whining and moaning about this every year at this time. But I do. Every year there's this grand celebration about gifts and giving but once it's over and everyone has moved on to the next "big thing" who has to take care of the clean-up? Go through the old stuff to make room for the new stuff? Figure out what to do with the old stuff? Dump? Goodwill? Craig's List? Me, the sh@$ shoveler, that's who. Where's the giving in that?? I should have known that this would be part of my destiny. All those years of my parents handing me a bucket and a shovel and pointing to the dog pen while my father called out, 'There she goes, our little Super Duper Pooper Scooper!'"
And on and on I went, lamenting to one of my dearest, dearest friends about the aftermath of the holidays. Same old song and dance. But I can't help it. It's how I feel every year. The prospect of a pile of new stuff coming into our house just doesn't thrill me the way it might for other people. I tend to be cranky about it. I've been called Scrooge. I've even been told by my sweetie that I can be downright "scary" about the whole thing. And I know that any family member of mine who might be reading this right now is probably rolling his or her eyes....."Here she goes again."
But here's the thing....nothing thrills me more than a small handful of freshly sharpened pencils. A medicine cabinet that is organized and labeled. Lego pieces that have been separated into individual bins - Small, Medium, Large, People...as opposed to dumped into one big bin or "Horrors!" strewn across the floor making it difficult for people to walk down the hallway without knocking over a prized creation. A toy closet with up-to-date toys as opposed to one filled with toddler toys no longer used or wanted. A bookshelf with just a few loved possessions on it. Less is more. Less is more. Bring more stuff in the house and now "we" (ie: me) have to find a new place for it. In closets that are already full.
As the years have gone by and time has become scarce due to the magnitude of responsibilities required for raising a family, I haven't been able to indulge my OCD tendencies like I used to. Organizing and purging take a lot of time. But, opening a closet, a cupboard or just walking in our garage has become a hazard. And every passing day, I become grumpier and grumpier about the situation.
And then, the funniest thing happened. I hung up the phone after my "vent session" and paragraph one, above, kept replaying in my mind. Over and over and over. And what I heard was that I am, in fact, the "Super Duper Pooper Scooper." So let's get going. Less talking...more walking. Just like the dishes....can't think about it. Just do it. And so, right at that very moment, I grabbed my labeler, wrote garbage on one bag and donate on another and ran up the stairs. I hauled everything out of my medicine cabinet and my toiletries drawer and dumped it on the floor. I wiped down the shelves. Dug out from another closet the organizing bin I'd purchased years ago for my drawer. Fired up the labeler. Categorized. Organized. Pitched. Purged. And not but an hour or two later, I stood back and admired my new sparkly clean and organized bathroom. I felt refreshed. I could breathe.
Right then and there, in that moment of blissful deep breathing, I decided that this had to continue. I had to make this a goal for 2011 - Clean out all closets, and dare I say it, the garage!! Lighten the load. And so, my dear friends, I have blocked out a regular time each week that I will be purging based on my prioritized list. Whatever gets done during that time is what gets done. I have been trying to talk my dear friend and neighbor into doing this with me. It could be like a race. As soon as the last ones are on the bus, we announce what we are organizing that day and then,...."On your mark get set go." We would meet back up at lunch time to discuss our progress. A little competition is always good for getting things done.
Want to join me...us? Choose your day, afternoon, evening. Perhaps tell me what is first on your list to organize. A little accountability is always good. I will be posting at the bottom of my weekly posts, what I will be organizing that week and whether or not I finished the project from the week before. That's my way of being accountable. Once winter is over....the spring cleaning may already be done.
In the meantime, as a way to lessen what actually comes into our home, I will continue to preach my time-honored mantras to my tribe:
Less is more. Use up what you already have. Don't just buy to buy. Take a moment to actually consider your purchases. Purge what is no longer needed. (This does not mean throw it in the garage or an already full closet.) Time is a gift.
Hopefully one day, on the way from one ear to another, what I'm staying will get stuck there in the middle.
And speaking of gifts, here is one for one of you.....
Seattle's Best Coffee Curiosity Pack
The kind people at Seattle's Best Coffee have sent me a Curiosity Pack - 5 blends, 1 box - to give to one of you. I think the idea is quite ingenious. It's a way to try out a variety of blends, without having to purchase large quantities, in order to determine which type of coffee you like best. Mild, light, crisp...to bold, dark, intense. Should you be interested in receiving this little gift, leave me your name and email address in a comment below by the end of the day Friday, January 14th. I will draw a name from a hat and email the lucky person.
And while you're leaving comments....does anyone have any tips for organizing my nemesis....LEGOS!!
White Bean and Kale Soup Peppered with Pancetta
Since I was so busy with my organizing frenzy, no plans were made for dinner that evening. No inspiration was to be found. However, preaching my own mantras to myself, especially, "Use up what you already have.", I went to the cupboard and discovered I still had the ingredients for a soup I had planned to make the week before but never did. My family loves this soup and it incorporates one of those nutrient filled winter greens...kale. I'm sure if you wanted a vegetarian version, you could omit the pancetta and substitute vegetable stock for the chicken stock. Wouldn't be quite as richly flavored but would still be good, I'm sure. If you don't have cannellini beans, you could substitute any other white bean that you like. Make sure you read through the recipe below before starting. Dried beans are added at a different time than canned beans.
Ingredients:
1 lb dried cannellini beans OR 3 15-oz cans cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
2 tbsp olive oil
4 oz pancetta, diced
1 large yellow onion, peeled and diced
4 large carrots, peeled and diced
4 large celery sticks, diced
5 garlic cloves, minced
1 tsp salt
1 tsp dried oregano
pinch of red pepper flakes
freshly ground black pepper
10 cups chicken stock
6 c loosely packed kale, chopped (I prefer lacinato kale.)
grated, parmesan cheese
Directions:
If using dried beans, rinse and pick over the dried beans, removing any possible pebbles. Put them in a heat-proof bowl. Cover beans with 8 cups of boiling water and let them soak for 1 hour. When they are finished, drain them in a colander. Meanwhile, start the rest of your soup.
In a large soup pot, heat your olive oil. Add pancetta and brown, about 5 minutes. Add onions, carrots and celery. Saute until soft about 8 minutes. Add garlic and saute 1 minute more. At this point you can remove from heat until your beans are ready.
Once dried beans have finished soaking, add them to the pot with your vegetables. Stir in the oregano, red pepper flakes, salt, a few cracks of black pepper and your chicken broth.
Bring the soup to a boil, then lower heat and simmer for 45 minutes. (30 minutes if you're using canned beans.) Test for seasoning. Adding a bit more salt and pepper or red pepper flakes if needed.
Add your kale to the pot and if using canned beans, add them at this point as well. Simmer another 30 minutes until beans are soft.
Ladle into soup bowls. Top with grated parmesan cheese and enjoy.
Yield: One big pot full.
Super Duper Pooper Scooper Goal:
Jan 3-9 - medicine cabinet/toiletries drawer - done.
Jan 10-16 - dreaded shelves in game/toy closet
All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2010
"Can you believe it? I'm almost done," I exclaimed to my off-spring a few days ago. "Done with what?" asked the 11-year old. "My Project 365. You know...where I've been taking a photo and posting it everyday this entire year? I only have two days left."
"What do you get for that when you're done? A prize?" inquired the 11-year old.
"No, nothing," I replied back.
"Nothing???" he said in astonishment.
"I guess...just knowing that I did it...is the prize."
Knowing that I set a goal and followed through. That I took a photo almost everyday this entire year...even on the days when I didn't feel like it. When I was uninspired. When I was too tired. When I thought, "Why in the heck am I doing this? This self-imposed goal. This is ridiculous." And yet, I did it.
And hopefully, during the process, I learned a lot about photography and a lot about myself. About how I see the world. What catches my eye.
After the sensory overload of the holidays, I dragged (literally) my family to the Oregon Coast. Nothing clears my mind more than the Pacific Ocean. I needed to breathe in the crisp salt air. I needed to recharge. I needed to lie around in bed reading a book til all hours of the morning without feeling the urgency to be somewhere or do something.
When it was apparent that my eldest two were suffering from a bit of cabin fever...judging by their hyper-activity and inability to stop poking, prodding or punching each other...I instructed them, "Time to go outside. Get your coats on." I grabbed my camera, bundled myself up in boots, a down coat, a knitted hat, which I pulled down over my ears, and wool gloves. And then, after telling my dear children they needed to walk to the end of the beach and find a starfish before they could head home (to which they replied, "Really, Mom?" in that "teen speak" way of talking), I set out to take that last photo. Number 365. The final shot. A bit of pressure settled down over me to catch that celebratory shot. The pinnacle. The consummation.
At the top of the dune, as the first bite of ocean wind hit us, my 11-year old cried out, "What???! You're coming out here in this cold just to take a picture!! Oh my gosh, Mom!!"
Clearly, he was still struggling with the fact that there was no prize. No payment. No trophy.
I bravely headed down to the edge of the ocean, lowering my head against the wind. My children begrudgingly followed behind me. Once there, I looked up and I was immediately struck by the winter light. Almost like a watercolor. Pale, soft tones. So lovely. I let the shutter fly, trying to use all I had learned in the past year, to capture that light.
I tried to capture the pattern the light made as it bounced off the sand.
The reason why I had brought my children outside.
A seagull I'd been following as it took flight.
My 11-year old, behind me. Still following me. Still puzzled.
The way the light from behind can take an ordinary picture and make it a bit magical.
And then, this white feather caught my eye. The way that it laid there. So simply with just a bit of light bouncing off of it. Bouncing off the sand. It seemed to be a visual metaphor for 2011. To keep things uncluttered. Simple. Yet focused. There was my final picture.
My daughter had long since made it to the end of the beach, claimed her starfish and high-tailed it home. At 4:30 pm, the sun was already setting. I was taking fewer and fewer photos. I had seen my 11-year old, a red speck at that point, disappear over the dune and had assumed he went in as well.
Deep in thought about the photos I had just taken, I left the beach. Hopeful that at least one of them had turned out. One of them would be worthy of marking the end of a year's worth of dedication. Just ahead of me on the trail home, I spied my 11-year old. Waiting for me....but pretending not to.
Perhaps pondering about what it means to do something, something that took a lot of time, a lot of devotion, a lot of learning...without receiving or expecting anything in return. (Or perhaps he was just listening to his latest iTunes download while passing time.) And while I never expected anything in return when I set out to do this project, I received more that I could ever imagine. Encouragement. Inspiration. A new skill. Camaraderie with fellow photographers.
However, I am most grateful to this project for teaching me how to really notice the world around me. The tiny details. The light. The patterns. The colors of the passing seasons. The true depth of eyes. And, my, what a beautiful world it is.
"The camera is an instrument that teaches people to see without a camera." Dorothea Lange
A year ago, I published a post about the hows and whys for taking on this project. Click here if you're curious to read those musings. Below is a link to my entire collection of photos from 2010 if you'd like to see it. My favorite part of scrolling through the pages is noticing the way that the colors and the light change throughout the year. http://www.flickr.com/photos/carrieminns/sets/72157622999828181/
A huge thanks to my sweetie for being my number one fan. For being genuinely enthusiastic to see my daily posts. For encouraging me to keep going. For proudly displaying my photos on his "desktop".
A big thanks to my kiddos for patiently allowing me to photograph them througout the year. And for taking a genuine interest in what I was doing. Puzzling as it may have been.
To all of my friends, family and Flickr pals who took the time to comment, call, email, encourage, advise....all of which helped me to keep going...thank you.
A special thank you to my father who has always been my "first" photographer. I've never known him without a camera around his neck. His tripod close at hand. He patiently answered my questions, over and over again, all year long.
And, of course, a novice photographer like me couldn't improve without inspiration from those with more talent and skill. Those with a better-trained eye or sense of composition. Those who can interpret the light better. Those who know their equipment more fluently.
These are the photographers that I return to, time and time again, for inspiration. Simply click on a name below to be taken to their lovely, individually unique artwork.
