a bit of fun

A diptych is a combination of two images placed immediately next to each other to make an artistic statement or comparison. The photographs can be identical or they can be different; there are no hard and fast rules – they simply have to be next to each other. They do not even have to be joined together and can be separated by a border.

Alex on Pixel Curse

My first obsession with a diptych was way back in 2013 when I first came across Kirstin Mckee on Mortal Muses. She is an amazing photographer and her diptychs are stunning, AND she did a whole year of them! I have played with doing my own diptychs over the years, mostly by chance, meaning - I don’t often take two photos with the idea of putting them side by side. But sometime around the beginning of summer I got the bug to play around with some intention.

My influences were from all over. Social media of course, but also lovely places like Kim Klassen’s site where she shares amazing diptychs, and other amazing layouts on her blog. A few weeks ago she shared another wonderful diptych project by Michelle Mollinga and suddenly I was hooked.

I am not sure where I am going with this little obsession of mine, other than to just say I am going to keep at it as long as my heart desires and see what happens. They will live on their own page, which you can find in the navigation bar up top under projects, called Side by Side.

in the garden

“Modern US consumers now get to taste less than 1 percent of the vegetable varieties that were grown here a century ago. Those old-timers now lurk only in backyard gardens and on farms that specialize in direct sales--if they survive at all. Many heirlooms have been lost entirely.”

― Barbara Kingsolver, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life

A few years ago I went to a seed exchange. A room full of like-minded gardeners sharing all types of seeds. Many varieties I had never heard of, many of them heirloom, collected and shared, passed down through generations. When planting time came around, I eagerly dug out my tiny packets of seeds and followed the information written on the bag (mostly in longhand) eager to see what would grow.

I scattered a few flowers in tiny pockets throughout the garden, some flourished and still bloom today, while others barely came up. I remember planting a type of cucumber I had never heard of, but of course googled, where I read rave reviews. Of my six seeds only one came up (I suspect the birds took off with the others) but the one plant set some beautiful cukes. This year I actually found what I think was the variety in a catalogue and planted it again, with limited success. Five seeds, one plant.

But these beans . . . I planted one pole of them that year, and they flourished. They were from Italy maybe France, but unfortunately their tiny little packet, with the info on it is long gone. But each year I save some seeds to plant. Their flavor is amazing , almost butter like, not at all like the wax bean you think of when you see a yellow bean. Their colors is lovely and I can make a meal of them. Boiled for a couple of minutes, drained, a generous pat of butter added, and a bit of salt.

Hello August . . .

a way of life

“For me photography is to place head and heart and eye along the same line of sight. It’s a way of life.”

― Henri Cartier–Bresson

When I broke my wrist the doctor asked me what my two favorite hobbies were - gardening and photography, I answered. If she would have asked for three, cooking would have been on the list too. All of these answerers rest on the notion that I don’t consider my grandson Percy, a hobby.

Gardening is seasonal, coming to a halt in the winter months, when I am definitely ready for a break. Cooking also goes in cycles. I might go days without cooking anything exciting and then go on a cooking spree where I try something new and different for a several days in a row.

But photography is something I do almost daily. I have said often in these pages that my camera centers me, slows me down, helps with depression and soothes my soul. But if I am truthful here I must tell you that I have not truly left our home town in 2 1/2 years. Keeping ourselves safe was hight priority, we had a new grandchild, and my husband was having some heart issues. We, along with the world, hunkered down. And just when things started to look like we might start going places again, he gets scheduled for a pacemaker, and I break my wrist . . .

But here we are five weeks later, his pacemaker doing its thing, my cast coming off in a few hours, and him coming out of Covid, where thankfully he was not too sick, and for some crazy reason, I didn’t get.

So what does someone (say an amateur, mature woman, hobbyist photographer) do when she feels she might need to take this hobby up a notch? She calls another woman photographer who she can knock some ideas around with, and she comes away with a project. A project without too many rules or restrictions, a project that doesn’t center around one photography style of genre, but rather focuses more on getting her out of the house, out onto the streets, down to the water, into the woods, and hey, maybe even out of town.

All with her camera in tow.

what if. . .

What if today. . . you were inspired and fed by your thoughts instead of being confined by them?


Marjo-Riikka Makela

She suggests instead of saying to my self I should, I should ask instead what if . . . ?

The wording makes a huge difference, and I am suddenly thinking of all kinds of possibilities.

hello 68

Starfish by Eleanor Lerman

This is what life does. It lets you walk up to
the store to buy breakfast and the paper, on a
stiff knee. It lets you choose the way you have
your eggs, your coffee. Then it sits a fisherman
down beside you at the counter who says, Last night,
the channel was full of starfish. And you wonder,
is this a message, finally, or just another day?


Life lets you take the dog for a walk down to the
pond, where whole generations of biological
processes are boiling beneath the mud. Reeds
speak to you of the natural world: they whisper,
they sing. And herons pass by. Are you old
enough to appreciate the moment? Too old?
There is movement beneath the water, but it
may be nothing. There may be nothing going on.


And then life suggests that you remember the
years you ran around, the years you developed
a shocking lifestyle, advocated careless abandon,
owned a chilly heart. Upon reflection, you are
genuinely surprised to find how quiet you have
become. And then life lets you go home to think
about all this. Which you do, for quite a long time.


Later, you wake up beside your old love, the one
who never had any conditions, the one who waited
you out. This is life’s way of letting you know that
you are lucky. (It won’t give you smart or brave,
so you’ll have to settle for lucky.) Because you
were born at a good time. Because you were able
to listen when people spoke to you. Because you
stopped when you should have and started again.


So life lets you have a sandwich, and pie for your
late night dessert. (Pie for the dog, as well.) And
then life sends you back to bed, to dreamland,
while outside, the starfish drift through the channel,
with smiles on their starry faces as they head
out to deep water, to the far and boundless sea.

I wake this morning, on my birthday, and go about my morning chores. I feed the dog, head outside to water the gardens, and take a few photos. I come in a couple hours later to make my latte and hear Today is Your Birthday playing on the smart speaker we have in the kitchen. He is awake and still in bed but sending me birthday wishes from our bedroom. I see I have text messages from the kids, and a missed phone call from a friend. Suddenly love and excitement overwhelm me. . . as I love a fresh start.

taking no chances

“It was approaching dusk. That time between late afternoon and early evening when most of us are adjusting our lights and clothing, appetites and mindsets, to make the transition from the end of the day to the beginning of the night. A time when both sun and moon can share the sky.”

- Marti Healy

One more week of this cast, but who is counting! Instead of complaining I thought I might share those things I can do left-handed now with ease . . .

fix my own latte, make my own breakfast and lunch, dress myself, hook and unhook by bra, change Percy, and lift him up if needed, eat soup, cut my own chicken, cut a bouquet of flowers, thin carrots, trim and blanch green beans for the freezer, weed, cut veggies for a salad, make the bed, take a shower, even squeeze the shampoo out of the bottle, fold laundry, vacuum, load and unload the dishwasher, mop the floors, clean the bathrooms, clean up spills, wipe the table after dinner, clean out the refrigerator, and feed the dog!

But just because I can do these things left-handed doesn’t mean I have to go back to doing them all, once my right hand is back in service.

I am so proud of his learning curve!

“Housework won't kill you, but then again, why take the chance?”

― Phyllis Diller

pom poms

“Pretending doesn't require expensive toys.”

― Fred Rogers, You Are Special: Words of Wisdom for All Ages from a Beloved Neighbor

I read somewhere that a bag of colorful pom-poms could keep a toddler busy for a good hour or so. I am here to tell you it is true. Add a couple of fruit baskets for sorting and a small pair of tongs and you will be set. You can count them, sort them by color or size, see how many you can squish into a cup or float them in water and hand the toddler a small ladle. The list goes on and on. The laughter you share as said toddler rolls around in them will carry you through the day.

This package came with sticky eyes too. . .

Who knew?

“Children need the freedom and time to play. Play is not a luxury. Play is a necessity.”

~ Kay Redfield Jamison