My husband is a gentle man.  He’s kind, he’s patient, and he has an ability to head off an awkward situation with a good laugh.  Kids love him because he plays hard and fair and as an equal.  Every kid I know likes him, wants to hang out with him, wants to make him happy.

Then, suddenly, he became a teacher.  And there’s a roomful of kids who, no matter how much they like him, don’t always care what he thinks.  I mean, let’s face it.  They’re middle schoolers and high schoolers and suddenly he’s not a babysitter or a friend or a big brother, he’s an authority figure to be pushed, to be tested.  No matter how great of kids they are, there are those inevitable, frequent moments in which they must test the boundaries.

And the fact is, Andy wouldn’t hurt a fly.  Well, I shouldn’t say that.  He does an awfully good job on the spiders I find on my carpet.  But anyways.

So we’re practicing the “Authority Look.”

“But honey!!!  I don’t know how!!!”

Bore your eyes into their souls, Andy.

“That sounds dangerous.  And creepy.”

Just do it, hon.

“Ummm, okay.”

No!  Way too nice.

“You’re kind of funny when you’re mean.”

Just do it!  Keep those crazy teenaged hormones firmly in check!  Show them you mean what you say!  Be the alpha male!

“Grrrr…”

Whoa.  That gave me chills.  That was scary.  That’s the one.

“What?  What did I do?”

I had so much fun getting to know Philadelphia that I decided it was high time to at least do SOMETHING in our new city.

When my sisters were visiting this past weekend, we decided to do something a little bit boring and head down to walk around University of Cincinnati campus, which we’d heard was beautiful.  It was.  My sister M shot away on her gorgeous new 50mm Canon lens.  I was not very inspired by my pathetic 3.5 f-stop after I gave hers a mini test drive, so I didn’t shoot much.  When I flipped through my camera at the end of the day, the only photos I liked were the little ones that could have been taken anywhere.

And I was reminded that it’s the details of things that I love.  I’m not very good at the big picture.  I get overwhelmed easily by too much – too many colors, too many textures, too many things.  When I’m running up a staircase, instead of looking at the view, I am usually watching my feet.

That’s what I remember from their visit… sharing about the details of our lives.  The things we never talk about; the things that everyone else would find boring.  It’s those sketches that form the foundation for the beautiful finished picture of our lives.

Okay, let’s be frank.  I’m not perfect (ha).  I often am inspired in what I write and what I photograph by what the other awesome people in the blogosphere are doing.  I read, and it makes me a better writer.  I look, and it makes me a better photographer.  I let those better than me teach me.

Well, Pioneer Woman is doing a new photo assignment where we are supposed to upload our all-time favorite photos.

Just because I thought you might like to see them all in one place (you may have seen them before, if you’ve been around here long enough) I’m going to show you my favorites.

But you have to let me know which are your favorites!

 I’m writing to you, once again, from Western Pennsylvania.  Home.

In Cincinnati, it’s hot.  It’s so hot, in fact, that I still wear sandals and shorts and tank tops every day, and hopping into the pool is not an uncommon occurrence.  The grass is dry and brown, there are heat hazes above the asphalt, and I get a headache just doing my afternoon shopping.  I still wince at the thought of going outside.

But here, it’s fall.  I can nestle onto the front porch loveseat with a cup of cocoa and an oversized cardigan in the mornings.  And when it gets warm in the sunny afternoons, it’s still a jeans and boat shoes type of warm.  The leaves are falling, there are pumpkins on the front steps and I am about to head out to the apple orchard to pick up some cider, pumpkin muffins and fresh apples.  This evening, there will be an apple pie in the oven, graciously provided by B and myself.

I like it.

My college roommate’s younger sister, a sweet, dear, wonderful girl, made these for me when I got married.  They’re just one more thing that makes home home.

And while I was a little rushed and hurried and harried and trying to juggle fifty things in the kitchen at once, it was nice to take a second to enjoy my pretty fresh muffins and my pretty fresh linens.  Maybe I’m a dork.