Just thought I’d update the dogwood’s blossoming progress. Now that I’ve got this thing started, I guess I’ll have to post a picture everyday. So just click on “dogwood” on the categories at the right to follow this thread. I love watching things over time. Maybe I’ll make a slide show when it’s all done. Hmm, what do you think?

My October Glory red maple tree will soon be shedding the most fun seeds of all seeds — the ones that swirl when the wind blows. I can’t wait!

Bradley’s teachers, bless their hearts, have shown a great deal of patience this year. With Bradley. With me. With our general lack of pushing to get things done, homework-wise. It was a conscious decision on my part. Hands off. No more chin-tapping in the kitchen over every decimal. No more checking the homework assignments to make sure they got done and done right. It’s high time Bradley learned independence, learned to check the assignments himself. Besides, I’m a busy woman. I need a son who will get his work done, then help me with mine!

Three interim reports about missing homework assignments later, and I’m back to chin tapping. Poor Bradley. He not only gets my nose poking into every detail of his school life, he’s also got the guidance counselor and several teachers inspecting his every toenail. The other day when I picked him up from school, he was 15 minutes late getting to the car. “Where were you?” I said.

“That guidance counselor made me WAIT ten minutes while she talked to another teacher,” he shouted. “Can you believe the NERVE?”

“Ten minutes? Are you kidding me? Your teachers have been very patient with you, Bradley, going far above and beyond the call of duty to help you out of your little, shall we say, slump. So here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to write thank you letters to each one. When you’re finished with your regular homework today, I want the first two letters done.”

“MOM!”

(I’m mean when I need to be.)

So, time went by, I forgot about the little letter assignment, distracted by the rest of the after school chaos. But, just as I was leaving for work (night job, you know, on top of the day job and the kids — “Bye Bradley! Love you!”), I suddenly remembered.

“Bradley?”

“Bye mom!” he said cheerily.

“Where are my letters?”

“You weren’t serious. Mom, come on. Letters?”

“Does this face look like it’s kidding?” (I paused while he soaked in my mother’s face. I mean the one my mom used to make at me.) “On the table by the time I get home.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, shoulders nearly hitting the carpet, “I love you too.”

Translation: Yeah, yeah, didn’t you say you were leaving?



ADDENDUM TO THIS POST

As I was writing this, Bradley brought me his latest math test!



Woo hoo!

Still not blossoming yet.

Click here for my main dogwood page.

Know what this is?



How about this one?

I was trying out my 105 macro lens. Awesome!

We’ve been trying to schedule this family shoot for months, but the weather just wasn’t cooperating. I love this shot!



Turned out it was nice that we waited until baseball season started because this family is really into sports! We started our shoot at the field…



…then hung out for street hockey…



…and finally, to the park for football and just being together.



I love this family shot!

And here’s a few more of my faves —



At this point, he didn’t even know who I was.



I LOVE old wood!



He was watching the soccer ball roll down the slide.



I love shots like this.



I have too many favorites from this session! This one says all the things that struck me about this family in one shot — sports, family, love. I really enjoyed meeting you all! What a fun day!

Click here for the slide show! Enjoy!

The Legos came out of hiding when the water started flowing down the window wells and onto the floor. Lego pieces made their way in the basement river downward, toward the water pump, swirling and gathering and clogging the nozzle.

Ugh! I wanted to wake my sons: “Get down here and pick up these Legos right now!”

Probably not the best idea at 3 a.m. So, while the children slept, Mike and I took turns fishing Lego pieces out of the steady stream, throwing them — bam — into the wall.

We were getting a little testy, it being 3 a.m. and all.

That old pump, besides being really slow, screamed and throbbed like a jet plane about to take off. Sitting right next to it all night long, legs knee deep in soaked socks, arms reaching into freezing cold water, my mind began to wander. I couldn’t talk; the pump’s too loud. I couldn’t take a cookie break. I couldn’t change positions. I just kept fishing and praying the rain would stop, daydreaming about, well, swirly oily Lego soup.

After a while, the old pump started to whine and screech and smell bad. We were certain we’d burn out the motor in the old one by the time the northeaster had squeezed its last drop. So at 5:30, Mike went out to join the lines of people at Home Depot waiting for new water pumps. He called me from the store. Nothing. He was going to drive around, see if any other stores might have one.

Lowe’s: nothing.

Sears: closed.

Boro Hardware: nada.

So he came back to the basement (a k a Julie’s photo studio complete with ruined backdrops) and slammed more Legos against the wall. It’s amazing how many stray Lego pieces were pitched, and yet, I never once “saw” something resembling a spaceship or a robot or a frontier cabin.

Suddenly, a light bulb flashed in Mike’s head. This revelation rather made up for the gingko incident.

“SWIMMING POOL STORES!” Mike said, and he was off to get our water pump.

Voila! No lines. Water pumps in stock, only minor price gouging. Quiet, too.

Still, the new pump doesn’t have a taste for Lego soup any more than the old pump did.

“Bradley! Gregory!” (grrrrrrr) “WAKE UP!” You’ve got some fishing to do.

I had the privilege of photographing this beautiful arts and crafts home recently. It’s for sale by owner, so if you’re looking for a new home, read on!



It’s a gorgeous home, inside and out, with a large yard and interesting landscaping, including crepe myrtle, magnolia and dogwood trees. (You knew I’d mention the trees!)



What a charming house with many beautiful details! This unique pane of stained glass sits just above the front door, one of many touches of stained glass throughout the home.



I love the light in the dining room! Between the stained glass and the glass door knobs, beautiful wood floors and moldings, everyting ties together to create a stunning home fit for a magazine layout.



The kitchen is bright and modern.



The space flows so nicely, with a large foyer that connects the living room and dining room, which is just off a gorgeous 300-square-foot all-season porch. The current owners use the porch space as a large home office and sitting area.



Upstairs is a another versatile open space with a door leading to the balcony. The wood floors throughout the home are beautiful!



The home is filled with beautiful details, such as the intricate wood work on the front door. Very impressive. There’s also a 2-car garage and full basement.

Click here for a slide show with lots more pictures.

Be sure to turn up the sound! When the show ends, it will automatically jump to the
“for sale by owner” info site,
designed and created by WrittenInLava.com

The owners are good friends of mine, so if you know of someone looking to move to the Central Jersey area, please pass along the Web site for us! Besides being one of the most charming and spacious homes I’ve ever seen, it’s perfectly located within walking distance of the train to New York City. That’s a hint for all my Manhattan friends thinking of moving to up to the ‘burbs!

As cultivator of the Tree Grower’s Diary, it made perfect sense for me to attempt to grow trees from seed. If successful, I could truly call myself a tree grower. A reader, Bruce, sent me seeds — lots of ginkgoes and Kentucky coffeetree seeds. I had to learn how to prep them for planting. I had to care for them, protect them from squirrels and stray flying baseballs. Little did I know I also needed to protect them from my husband, a k a BABY TREE MURDERER. (See mugshot above.)

I went out today to see if the ginkgoes had started sprouting buds yet.



I kicked the leaves. I looked behind the dwarf Alberta spruce. I looked behind the patio table and under the arborvitae. I looked behind the shed. I looked in the garage and over by the gate where the yard junk ends up. They’re gone. Nowhere. Not even a pile of dirt left. Their home outside the back door is empty, flowerpots and all.

I called my husband. “Do you know what happened to the baby trees? The pots are gone.”

“What baby trees?”

“The ones in the flowerpots by the backdoor.”

“Oh, I um, — I threw those away.”

I remained calm and quiet. “You threw them away?”

“I thought they were trash.” He spoke quietly, remorse in his voice.

“Those were my baby ginkgoes, the ones I’ve been writing about for a year now.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“You thought they were trash? How could you think that?”

“I, um, I…”

“Don’t you ever read the blog?”

Complete silence.

Caught.

Click here to find out what happened to the coffeetree seedling.

Me a tree grower?

What a joke.

I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry.

Blog readers: let’s give my husband some ideas for how he might repay me for throwing my baby trees in the trash can. Post your comment below and let’s see if he reads this.

Click here to read the followup story.

I admit it. I’m photo obsessed. Can’t help it. I love taking pictures. I love the whole process. Assessing the lighting, figuring out how best to compose the shot, making sure I have just the right point in focus. I get very intense when I’m trying to capture a certain feeling, and as long as it’s not a child who has grown uncomfortable with me, I’ll keep trying until I get what I was hoping for.

The other day I was in a client’s home, moving my lights around and testing different settings and compositions. The client went to the airport to pick up his son. I was in the foyer at the time. An hour later, he returned and there I was, still in the foyer, head cocked to one side, one hand on my camera with an eyeball at the viewfinder and the other hand pinching my lips. I knew there was a person behind me, watching me, probably arms folded in fascination, but I went on assessing the lighting and thinking deep thoughts about wood grain.

Finally, he broke the silence. “You have a photo disorder,” he said.

Seriously? Seriously.