Years ago, as a struggling college student majoring in Mass Communications, I took a photography course. Oh man, it was so much fun. FINALLY a college class that made sense! A short time later I left college and headed for Atlanta to attend The Portfolio Center. It’s basically art school meets real world in that they teach you skills to work in advertising – photography, copy writing, graphic design. You get the idea. My area of interest was photography.

I later worked for professional photo labs, hung out in photography studios, MARRIED a professional photographer, and eventually learned the secret to taking nice photos. It’s really the best advice and works whether you’re shooting your child or a wedding. Want to hear it?

Shoot beautiful people.  It really helps.  You’re welcome.

My brother dropped by the house today. He has been reading my blog posts about how tired I am, so he brought me a bottle of wine and a gift certificate for an hour long massage.

OR he might have said that I’ve been complaining for two days and if I didn’t have anything better to blog about, just don’t bother.

If I wasn’t so dang TIRED, I’d dig up all the goofy pictures I have of him. And there are LOTS.

Instead, I’m posting a few photos of the week, thus far.

That’s it. No whining, no complaining, no pitiful pictures of me looking like death. Just cute pictures of kids doing their thing. But if my brother is expecting any cool souvenirs from Lake Winnie, he can FORGET it.

Before White Water –

After White Water –

Lake Winnie is Thursday. I fully expect to be dead by Friday.

I’m mere minutes away from falling face down into bed where I plan on sleeping, without moving, until I wake up with pillow creases in my face, in a pool of my own drool. Why? What would so SEVERELY  exhaust a fairly fit woman in the prime of her life?

And tomorrow is White Water. Pray for me.

Check out my super, cool, new bike riding shoes. They have clips in the bottom and latch onto my pedals so that when I’m riding, my feet STICK to the pedal, ensuring  I can get more power on not only my bottom stroke, but on my upward stroke as well. They are really going to help me ride faster and stronger and I’ll probably win all my races from this day forward, cause I’m a serious cyclist.

OR I might have a wreck at zero miles per hour because I can’t UNCLIP my feet in time causing me to just fall over onto the pavement. Repeatedly. Whichever.

Can I just say something? I know I joke a lot about having a cocktail, but I’m really not much of a drinker. Mainly because I once read that frozen margarita’s have 750 calories and I’ve been dieting for 22 years. But when my father-in-law is in town, I have to make an exception. Stanley is FAMOUS for his Bloody Mary’s.

He starts with spicy V8. No ice, just the V8.

Then 2 capfuls of vodka. I don’t how much that actually IS, but it’s not too strong. And it’s not too weak.

Next he adds Worsheshire sauce. He didn’t give me an exact measurement, but I saw him give it a good 5 or 6 shakes.

Then a really good squirt of lime juice.

NOW comes the ice. Liberally add salt and pepper. YUMMY! The bridge glass gives it a touch of elegance.

If there was a Hall of Fame for bartenders, Stanley’s picture would be hanging on the wall. Prominently. But he’s already mixed me two, so I might be unduly influenced.