Any of my little blog friends on Instagram? If so, let me know so I might find you there. I’m on as nancyaharris. I’m quite fond of the simplicity of it. I like seeing brief images of my friend’s lives without first weeding through all the extra stuff of Facebook. I use my cell phone to take pictures any time I’m feeling lazy or my dslr isn’t convenient. The wide-angle view from my phone isn’t great for many things, but it’s perfect for others – like capturing newborn babies on beds without standing on ladders! Anyway, Instagram has been a fun place for me to share my phone images.
Recent shots with the old phoney-phone-phone:
If you are the skimming kind, you are done with this post. If you are the detail seeker, well, here are a few “I spy”s for you:
-- Daisy’s “special day” to the ceramic-painting place last month was such a hit that Goldie chose it for hers this month.
-- Also . . . I came home one day to discover Goldie had made a vegetable person. I have no idea how my girls know how to do things like this . . .
-- People have a little trouble distinguishing baby gender without loads of hair, I’ve discovered. Pink bows, pink blankets and heart bracelets do little to help. I don’t mind really. I’m probably just as clueless (though I’m clever enough to make plenty of small talk -- “Cute baby! What’s your little ones name?” – while still managing to leave gender totally out of it). Still, I had to laugh when Mike suggested I make it easy by writing “girl” on her forehead. Haha. I love my Summer-girl!
-- A 5:00 pm trip to Wal-Mart . . . which is bad . . . to get ingredients for a family-night treat . . . which is worth it.
-- We’ve had our first Halloween party of the year. Costuming and de-costuming happens on repeat, it seams, for the last week or two of October.
-- Daisy has been giving Penny piano lessons. Kind of cool.
-- Goldie insists on saying goodbye as formally as possible to everyone as they leave in the morning. She stumbles out of bed in the darkness when she hears Abe and Daisy open the door to catch the early bus to Jr. High, and she insists I stop doing her hair mid-ponytail if Mike is leaving because she must wave goodbye as he drives off. Most mornings Penny joins her in the send-off.
-- And . . . on a return from a run, I was yelled at by a bunch of small swing-set hecklers. Typical.