Last year one of Hamish's favorite friends moved all the way to Brazil.
This year, one of his new favorite friends is moving to another state a thousand miles away. On Friday. I'm hoping this doesn't turn into a sick and twisted annual tradition. The out-of-state-bound friend, her mom, Alicia Smith is a professional photographer, with gear and talent to show for it. We thought she'd brought along an overnight bag to this afternoon's playdate. (Of course we would have made up the guest room for her if she'd wanted.) A mini suitcase on wheels it looked like, just right for the overhead bin on an airplane. But no. It was her camera.
The lens alone looked like it weighed as much as Stella. Look at that depth of field, those colors, the crisp detail that reminds me to run a brush through my daughter's hair. Can you see the difference between the pics in this post and all the rest, taken with my crappy point-and-shoot, the one Stella dropped on the pavement seventeen times? Okay she dropped it on the kitchen floor. Twice. Can you tell I'm salivating for a new camera suddenly? And I thought I wanted new slippers. Hah.
Hamish's buddy is a wonderful kid, the kind you never want to kick out of your house. A goody, as my mother would say.
And speaking of new friends, there has been an explosion of them in my corner of the world ever since my last post about Jai Yoga. It turns out that yoga is indeed magic, because for sharing my darkest coldest bits I have received so much warmth and light. I went from feeling suicidal on the floor to euphoric and bouncy in a single day, to the point where I said to my therapist last week, "So level with me, am I cyclothymic or what?" And she said no, not that it would matter since the diagnostic criteria would change in a few years anyway, because at this murky mental level, the disorders are more about the insurance companies. Good to know. Although searching for an acceptable cyclothymia link to html just now, I'd totally diagnose myself with it... and get the meds to match. Bryan might too. Because when he witnessed the change in me he slumped in his seat, hung his head and said, "Just wake me when it's over."
But, personality disorder and crumbling husband aside, there is nothing more heartwarming and validating and worth so damn much than being approached by someone and hearing that they related to what I wrote, that they laughed, they cried, they posted it on their facebook page, and thanked me for having a "blog that is a real gift." So without making this too much into my Oscar acceptance speech, thank you for reading and letting me know it mattered to you, by telling me, writing me, friending or following. It made my day and drove my husband to drink. No really. He was already drinking. We've been together a long time.