Soul Work

I'm not big on telling the world what sort of charitable and good things I'm up to because I think it's corny and distracts from the real issue, the cause, but I'm going to shout out about this because maybe someone reading this Christonicle will know someone who can benefit from the work of this foundation or has something to give (Benjamins) to keep the foundation going.

So, I'm now a volunteer firefighter, uhm... I mean volunteer photographer for Soulumination www.soulumination.org, which was founded by an amazing photog lady named Lynette Johnson. Soulumination provides professional portraits for families with children afflicted with life-threatening illnesses or ill parents at the end of their life.

I had my first shoot this past week and I was pretty nervous and wondering what I would walk into. Sometimes the shoots can be in hospital rooms but I was lucky, this one was at the people's home.

How did it go? It was great. We all had fun and I felt honored to be able to use my talent to create a lasting snapshot of a family which might be minus one member way too soon.

I can't show you the photos because of privacy issues and because the images are the property of the family and Souluminations. In the near future, I do imagine that this family's bio and their photos will be up on the Soulumination website or on Lynette's blog. Stay tuned.

Why did I do this? Because I can. And really, what's not great about making beautiful portraits of people who really want them? I've preserved something for them, something no doctor or god can, a tangible bit of life that will live as long as the photo paper does. And that my friends, is pretty dang cool.

A Day at the Beach

Dolls and Balls

The Mother and Father agree there are gender differences but the mother would like to keep the gender bias' to a minimum so on a trip to buy new toys for The Boy, The Mother buys him a doll to go with his new ball.

Shockingly, to The Mother at least, The Father's reaction is "no way, my boy is not playing with dolls".

The Mother and the creepy looking doll win.

The discussion that follows:

The Mother: If we had a girl would you object to her playing with trucks?
The Father: I wouldn't encourage it.

The Mother is so shocked because The Father's gender demon had never revealed itself until this day of balls and dolls.

New Digs

Here's a mask/totem pole thingy at a cool park by our new house. Oh wait, I never mentioned......we, uhm.... bought a house.

It's in Judkins Park (the heart of the Central District), about a mile from our current house.

We're remodeling, and ridding the place of green paint, and will be in it sometime at the end of May.

Driver

Bath

Have cold, no insects

Yesterday on NPR's All Things Considered I heard a story that really made me sad. The thought of pretty little song birds starving had me up last night. Apparently migratory birds in the midwest are starving due to the cold snap. I found this guy's blog, which has some photos and interesting info on the topic.

If you have snow now, please put out some food for these little birds!

Mrs. Doubtfire

Mrs. Doubtfire is our new babysitter, or nanny, or surrogate great aunt or something.
She came for two hours today while I raced through two sets of client proofs.

She's 65, wears glasses, drives a van, and has 16 grandchildren.

She says words like Cutey Patootey and knows all the children's books we have almost by heart.

I was never a serious babysitter as a kid, tween or any other age so I was totally unprepared for what a serious babysitter, nanny, surrogate aunt with 16 grandchildren expects from a mother.

She expected things, things I did not provide or even mention. oops.
Through the office vents I could tell she was running out of tricks around minute 30.

Come to learn, the location of food, milk, diapers, wipes, are pretty important things to know. (relax, I had just fed, changed, napped and nursed him).

Mrs. Doubtfire is coming again tomorrow. :)

Happy Easter, Spring, Passover, What-Have-You

Just an impromptu Xander portrait as we raced out the door to Bainbridge Island yesterday. Too bad we left his shoes on and that the backdrop didn't extend out to cover the carpet--I have the cats to thank for that. They peed and pooped on it when someone accidentally left the cat door locked while parking a motorcycle in the garage. At least they went on the paper backdrop instead of the carpet.

Scary Gym

My gym is scary.
It's a super pish posh place and almost everyone working out is employed by The Empire.
That said, it's a good thing I don't go too often because the level of swank-i-tude creeps me out. (Example: They have a monthly magazine that gets mailed out to all members. There are quite possibly 35 advertisements for cosmetic dentistry, 49 for laser treatments, 17 plastic surgery clinics, and a handful of diamond jewelers)
I've made a point to wear 'non-workout' attire when I work out--it's my own form of gym rebellion. Today, I wore maternity gauchos (no, I'm not pregnant) and a t-shirt that says "I'm a Super-Duper Programmer" (Alex refuses to wear it) and grey tennis shoes with bright white socks.

Another random bit: We had to introduce ourselves in the class I'm taking and tell where we worked. After awhile I felt like I was in a twelve step program. After 20 or so "Hi I'm Joe and I work at Microsoft".