“Could that be because we no longer have a camera to take pictures with?” his diminutive wife countered.
I win. We now have a new camera of our old camera; I liked the last one so much I found it unnecessary to indulge the Best Buy guy, taking all of ten minutes to procure a new Sony Something-or-other.
So, as I’ve purchased it twice, this camera cost two-times what it should have, and I am now committed to taking pictures of everything. This includes, but is not limited to: Sophie—from every angle possible, faux house plants, family members with and without their hair done, obscure yoga postures, my coworkers, repetitive self-portraits, notably delectable foods, roadside works of art, staff in the offices I call on, the very few friends I’ve retained, and my handsome spouse. Many if not most of these expertly taken mementos of our fascinating life I’ll post on this blog o’ mine. Stay tuned and attentive, for you surely will not be disappointed. Spying on friends and those we don’t know is what we U.S. citizens live for, thus I am well aware that my photos will act as air for you.
As substantiation of my resolve, here are works of the weekend:
On Tuesday last I experienced one of those Bad Hair Days that is only rectified by cutting off the excess and having the color fixed, a need Kitty filled for me on Saturday. Kit is now a bombshell brunette, and I always feel confident in entrusting my coif to her capable imagination.
While I was processing, Kit gave Haley a Healthy Cut. It was superfluous because Haley has the kind of hair that looks luxurious no matter how long it’s been since her last cut and color.
The culmination of Caitlyn’s work. (Is there much you wouldn’t do for green eyes like hers?)
What was once two brunettes and a blonde is now three brunettes. (Despite the effects of wardrobe malfunctions in the photo, neither Caitlyn nor I are pregnant.)
In line with my pledge for more pictures, the night before my hair renovation, we of Peterson attachment and parentage snapped plenty of shots of ourselves and those we love (more of ourselves, that is).
Below: Mom and me. Here’s another set of green eyes to envy . . .
Pretty Mommy and handsome Dadda.
Sophie's Uncle Gus.
Here you have lil’ Sophelia recently home from her stay at the doggie inn. The innkeeper reported that Soph had a fabulous time chasing a full-grown Boxer. The Boxer was in the dog run for small dogs because he was too afraid of the other large dogs to remain in the run he was supposed to be in. Sophie took little time capitalize on the opportunity to terrorize a larger animal and soon had the canine pansy cowering in a corner.
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