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vivid
We went to the Farmer’s Market yesterday. This is nothing new. It’s every Saturday and conveniently on our way to Starbucks (not that we go to Starbucks every Saturday or anything). We don’t go every Saturday. Only when the nap schedule conveniently lines up with the chore schedule and we don’t have anything else going on. It’s a nice little outing and a fun way to meet and greet all our neighbors and their dogs. I love our little town.
This Saturday I had just read Dooce’s Month forty-four Newsletter and I was particularly struck with the one line where she writes, “It is a thrilling, exhausting ride with the most vibrant human being I’ve ever known, and my memories of this time are so colorful, so vivid and full of texture. My only sadness is that your memories of this time will not be as clear…”. It’s not like I want to link Dooce or send her anymore traffic. But she is famous for a good reason. She can write a fine sentence.
That sentence is what I’ve been trying to articulate in my mind for months. Life with Baby Bug is SO vivid. Sometimes little too vivid. And it just makes me sad that these memories that we are making right now are never going to be as vivid as they are now. Especially not for Baby Bug. I want to be able to play them back over and over on days when we are not so happy and full of color but I know we can’t do that. So we just have to treasure them now even if we are blinded by them. Whatever. What Dooce said. I can’t say it like she did. But you know what I mean…
While we were at the Farmer’s Market, I was particularly aware how colorful and pretty everything was. I clicked away with my new doltish mini-van camera and tried to capture some of it. Then later, since I was in photoshop anyway adding my new watermark (that I’m NOT so in love with), I tweaked the color and burnt in the edges to make my boring digital photos seem more like how I remembered them. I don’t know if this is fair, tweaking reality to match the picture in your mind… but maybe it will help me remember just how vivid everything once was.
I don’t want to forget. I never want to forget.
Here’s a little something for the grandmas.
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Pumpkin Time Already!
I don’t mean to be one of those people who pushes a seasonal holiday on you months before you are ready BUT the pumpkins that my Dad planted last May ripened a little early and needed to be picked. They are very special pumpkins.
Way back when the pumpkins were little green balls, my Dad snuck out one morning (when nobody was around) and carved his granddaughter’s initials into them as a surprise. The pumpkins have been plumping up over the months but hiding under leaves and grass. The grown-ups knew about them but none of the little girls really noticed their names stretching and stretching across their funny pumpkins.
So yesterday we had a fun picking-of-the-pumpkins event and of course a mandatory photoshoot.
