Mike has come a long way since I gave him his first digital camera soon after Connor was born on May 1, 2005.
Here is an example of some of his experiments with HDR (High Dynamic Range) photography. I find them both artistic and pleasing, worthy to me of being made into a coffee table book with absolutely no fatherly bias having entered into this judgment whatsoever!
I believe that for best effect you should watch the video in full screen mode by clicking the icon of the arrows pointing to the four corners of the screen that appears in the lower right corner of the player once you click the PLAY arrow to start the slideshow. (Escape leaves that mode.)
Mike has his own website called Shape Shifter Images and is available for portrait and other photographic work.
I ain’t washing tomorrow. Oh, I’ll take a shower, but I mean I’m not washing clothes. Nope. I’m getting that done today.
Not that I really believe that old legend commonly thought true (audio version by yours truly) by those adults in my world when I was growing up that if you wash on New Year’s day, it’s bad luck and someone in your family will die during that year. Not that I believe that, but at my age, I’m really hoping that none of my relatives feel an urgent need to start the new year out right by cleaning up all their dirty laundry.
It can wait one more day folks. Give it a rest, please!
And maybe you and I both will celebrate next New Year’s Eve.
The visitors have gone. Recycling to do. Stockings no longer hung. Crumpled wrapping paper in plastic bags everywhere. Managed to enjoy ourselves amidst and despite the stresses of the season wrapped as they were in a whirlwind schedule nobody could control. Ate, drank, sang, laughed, talked together. Exchanged gifts as seen on TV. Played with toys. Wasted almost no time on sleep. Wallowed in the pleasures of having visitors whom I love in my home.
Not unexpectedly, acquired three almost-certain-new clients for my tech support help who were no doubt sent by Life to help me learn even more patience.
Thanks All for giving me the gift of your visit to my home.
Something about the simplicity of this video really appeals to me.
It does a good job of simulating how daughters and sons learn to cook from watching their fathers and mothers. Learning to cook is more about trying things than it is about following a recipe. As I typed the first sentence of this paragraph, I was aware that not just daughters, but also sons, learn not just from their mothers, but also from their fathers, how to cook. It serves to remind me that as time goes on, roles and families evolve.
For instance, my son Mike who lived with me from his 14th birthday forward learned to cook by participating with me in preparing our meals. Today he is the primary chef in his home and he enjoys the role. A funny aside from Morgan the other day was the one in which she asked, “Mom what did we eat before Mike was here?”
He has said he’d like to run a restaurant but I’ve always heard that is a terribly demanding occupation. Maybe Mike is channeling my uncle Pat Ross who ran Pat’s Place there on Main Street in Stone Mountain from my earliest youth until he passed away. Uncle Pat was almost always at the restaurant. I never knew of him going to a baseball game, or to a dance, or to church or going hunting or fishing with my dad; in other words, I don’t think Uncle Pat had a hobby outside of his restaurant. I suppose that is why it had better be a labor of love if one chooses to open a restaurant.
Mike posted this milestone moment on his Flickr photostream, and as a proud grandpa, I almost felt entitled to snap it up and post it here too without asking, but I did the right thing and called Mike and got his permission to post it. I’m sure you’ll find it one of those “Awwww, moments.”
Note: Please leave a comment if for any reason this video does not play for you. It is designated as “Friends and Family only” on Flickr, so I’m unsure whether everyone will be able to play it here on my site. So let me know, please. Thanks.
Looking out my office window, I can’t help drifting off into the memory that Carole and I were married on August 25, 1962, a mere 47 years ago today, at the Decatur (GA) First Christian Church. Dr. Charles Schwab performed the ceremony during which, in a move similar to that of Chief Justice John Roberts who muffed the oath of office to President Obama last January 20th, he asked me “do you Nelson Perry … etc.” But despite that glitch the sun shone brightly on our wedding day.
We left the church in the car that had been “decorated” by our friends but we switched cars a mile or so away from the church before leaving for our honeymoon in Gatlinburg, TN. And there we stayed for a few days at, where else?, the Ogle Cabins.
Our first night together , however, was spent at the Riviera Motel on Peachtree at I-85 in Atlanta. I failed to take note of the room number, I’m now sorry to recall. It’s funny to me that details such as that are interesting this far removed from the event. The remaining details of our first night together were buried with Carole on June 10th and my memory grows dimmer by the moment. Yes, I know, but I ain’t tellin’.
So today I’m going to celebrate the anniversary of my wedding day by painting my ceiling. I’m a Romantic, don’t you think?